Post by Josh Kennedy on Sept 2, 2017 9:58:23 GMT -5
(OOC: This piece was written alongside Cass Baumer's handler in the run-up to a supershow. This section was the only one I felt could stand entirely on its own and thought it was important for another storyline it sets up in the process. For the full context of the story this segment is a part of, please refer to the following link: The Seven Stages)
9th July 2017
Off-Camera
“If something is catching in my throat, just at the edges of these moments; it must be this, and not whatever I tell myself it is” – Have A Nice Life (“Sisyphus”)
Josh’s eyes are locked on the television screen as he intently watches the match he has lined up. His notebook rests at his side, pen in hand, scrawling down notes as he observes. Rewinding and going over each moment in fine, obsessive detail. His notes are equally disorganized, and unnecessarily detailed. He’s written down potential counters to Artemis’ moves, the weapons she tends to gravitate towards and the kinds of swings she appears to favor, and attempted to look for details even Artemis herself may not have noticed about her in-ring work, the small subconscious choices she makes. Really, even Josh doesn’t fully understand why he does this to this level of incredibly particular, obsessive detail. There’s a point at which research stops being helpful, and the twelve pages of notes he was attempting to expand upon even further were probably well past that limit. But Josh is obsessed with doing as best he could, he always had been, and this strange, unhealthy ritual helps him ease the many anxieties he had about performing. He continues flicking his eyes across his notes and the screen, attempting to catch something, anything new, pen poised just over the page.
Just then, Josh’s phone rings, interrupting his concentration.
“For fuck’s…” He begins with an exasperated sigh, before looking at the screen, his frustration melting away in an instant as he sees who it is.
“Yo.” He answers.
“Asshole,” Cass Baumer begins the call nonchalantly, kidding around. “You busy right now? I’m not interrupting anything important?”
Josh looks at the TV again for a moment. He’d been looking over footage all day, and there was only so far his obsessive research could get him without driving him insane. He grabs the remote and turns it off. He could do with the break, that much was for certain.
“Nah, not anymore.” He answers.
“I just wanted to say thanks for the other night,” Cass begins, as sincerely as she can.
“I was really on edge with everything going on with Gabe and all them but you just popped into my DMs to see what was wrong. It was nice, y’know? Not everyone would’ve done that.”
“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t seem yourself, something was bothering you. That’s what friends are there for, ain’t it? Help each other out and all that sentimental shit?”
“Probably. I mostly just end up accidently burning those bridges down so I wouldn’t know,” she jokes, poking fun at herself.
“I’m too stubborn to let you get rid of me that easily.” Josh chuckles.
“Hah. I’ll hold you to that,” she teased. “Did you wanna hang out or something tonight? Maybe head to the local bar?”
“Gonna try and put my patience to the test, huh? Yeah, sure. Actually, me and my buddies have just acquired a bar of our own, wanna check it out?”
“Should I bring money?”
“Free bar for as long as nobody catches us.” He jokes.
“We’ll be like drunk ninjas!”
“You already tried that on the 4th, remember?”
Cass bursts out in laughter.
“No, seriously. Should I pay? I’m not exactly rolling in dough right now sooo…”
“Nah, you’re good, cheapskate.” he ribs, “Really, I don’t think anybody’s gonna be there, so it’s a free bar.”
“That’s my favorite kind of bar, you know that?”
“I think that’s everyone’s, so I ain’t surprised.”
“So you want me to pick you up or did you wanna meet up at the bar?” Cass responded after another laugh.
“Hey, as long as you ain’t expecting a limo or a fancy car I can give you a ride.”
“You drive a tricycle, don’t you?”
“Unicycle, actually. C’mon, I thought your anonymous sources would get that right.”
“I guess I must’ve missed that submission! Damn,” Cass chuckled again. “Nah but it’s fine. Whatever you’re driving is cool by me. I’m not really the superficial type… So I can expect to see you on your unicycle in how long?”
“Let’s say an hour, yeah? Traffic in the unicycle lanes can get pretty crazy.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” Cass smirked. “You hear about that 50 unicycle pile up the other day? Must have made it so much harder for you!”
Josh laughs loudly.
“Oh, god, you can’t even imagine.”
“I’ll see you in an hour, dude. Drive safe.”
One Hour Later:
“What? No unicycle?! You disappoint me,” Cass greeted loudly as she approached the small, humble Volkswagen from the front door, eyeing Josh the whole way down the lawn.
“It’s in the shop, needed a tune-up.” Josh retorts.
He opens the door for her, and beckons her into the passenger seat.
“Your chariot awaits, madam.” He says, in a terrible approximation of an English accent.
As Cass shoots Josh a look and raises her eyebrows, Josh shrugs it off.
“I mean, I know you said you weren’t the superficial type and all…”
“So you think I’m into chariots?” she laughs, getting into the passenger seat with a shrug.
“Nah, just figured I could throw in a little flourish. You laughed, I think that means I win.”
“Fine. You win, okay! I admit it,” she shut the passenger door as soon as Josh moved out of the way. “Just don’t get used to it.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’ll make sure to send you the Smartass Championship in the mail.”
“I’ve been after two belts at once for a while, hasn’t happened yet, I’ll take that as a victory.”
With a smirk, Cass buckled her seatbelt and made sure the door was locked.
“Hey, ain’t nobody wanting to steal this rustbucket.”
“I don’t know how you drive! I don’t wanna die today, alright? You never know.”
“Usually I use the pedals and the steering wheel, I dunno about you…” He said, slowly starting to pull the car away.
With a straight face, Cass responded. “I really hate you right now.”
“Shame you locked the door then, ‘cause we’re moving. Guess that means you’re stuck with me.”
“I could open the window and shout ‘I’m being kidnapped! Help!’”
“Never been part of a police chase before, go ahead.” He teases, calling her bluff.
Cass couldn’t help but laugh again.
“How do you manage to always make me laugh though? Hypnotism? Sorcery? What’s your secret?”
“Ever heard the phrase ‘a magician never reveals his secrets’? Let’s go with that.”
“Alright, Harry Potter... Let’s go get drunk as fuck!”
“I think I can handle that.”
“So what have you been up to, anyway? Bet you live the busy life, huh?” Cass asks after some time of driving.
“Training my ass off. Two title matches and a supershow all in the space of a month means I’ve got a lot goin’ on. I’m happy though, it’s good. I love doing this.” Josh deflects, his answer coming across a little defensive, as though he’s trying to convince himself almost as much as he is Cass.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Cass tilted her head, hearing some doubt in the way Josh spoke. As an ex-journalist, Cassandra’s observation skills were better than most.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s fine.” He lies.
“People don’t usually repeat the same thing twice when they’re telling the truth, Josh.” Josh knows he’s being totally transparent, but doesn’t really care all that much.
“What’s there to say?” “I don’t know. Just because I can notice details other people might miss doesn’t mean I’m a mind reader. You’re gonna have to tell me.”
“Nah, not really. I don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll figure it out.” He insists, once again attempting to push the subject away.
“You know on Friday when something was bothering me and you helped me out? You said I could go to you whenever something was bothering me, yeah? It works both ways. So if something’s on your mind, you might as well spill it, right? Might make you feel better.”
“Look, I don’t wanna talk about it, alright? Let’s just hit the bar and get drunk off our asses. I just wanna have a good time right now, that’s it. Can we please just put a pin in it, at least for now?”
“Fine. Okay. Just remember I’ve got your back, okay?” Cass spoke genuinely before continuing in a snarky tone. “No matter what the rumors say.”
“Appreciate it.”
The second part catches Josh’s attention, and he raises an eyebrow.
“What rumors?”
“You don’t wanna know…”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll report ‘em soon enough, guess I’ll just wait to find out.”
“Until then… Is it booze o’clock yet?”
Josh looks down the road and indicates towards the bar just a little further down.
“More or less.” He says, as he slows down to pull up outside.
‘Shut Up and Drink’, as the painted sign outside so clearly labelled the bar wasn’t exactly a whole lot to look at. Not that it needed to be, the classic dive bar exterior consisted primarily of a worn, dark oak. Despite its rough appearance, it looked fairly inviting, the warm glow of the internal lights beaming across the street, the walls on the inside chaotically plastered with cuttings of artwork, photographs and graffiti. Through the windows a few small wooden tables with accompanying chairs could be seen, as well as the two pool tables. Although not yet open for the general public, Josh produced a small silver-colored key from his pocket and used it to open the door.
“The perks of having friends in low places, huh?” He grins as he swings the door open and waits for his guest to enter ahead of him.
“You’ve got your own bar? How’d you pull this one off?” Cass explored the interior with her eyes, running her fingers along the top of the long bar as she looked at the artwork on the wall.
“My buddy Johnny bought it, technically, got it for the group. A HQ, of sorts, place to unwind after Slaughterhouse shows. Think this is gonna be a new haunt of ours.”
“So it’s a Filth Parade thing,” she nodded, standing in front of the wall covered in photographs, looking at the images with an observant eye.
“Sure is. Got our names all over it. Literally.” He says, pointing to the part of the wall where all five of the group had scrawled their names. Rebel Manson, Silas Subhuman, Johnny Vachon, and Eddy Poe. It was clear to see that two gaps had been left for some names that had yet to grace the bar with their presence, too.
“So if this is Filth Parade territory... What does that make me then?” Cass asked inquisitively with a smirk.
“I guess that’s up to you. We tend to call our friends ‘Filth by Association’.”
Cass just rolled her eyes.
“Of cooourse you do,” she laughed, glancing at the giant ‘Shut Up and Drink’ logo mounted on the back wall.
“You know, with the right marketing, this place could end up giving you guys a whole lotta money in your pockets. Wouldn’t be too hard either. You can practically advertise anything on social media and get a profit.”
“Never said it was anythin’ earth-shatterin’, what’s the harm in a cheesy pun?”
Josh nods at Cass’ observations.
“We might consider it. Might not. I kinda wanna see if I can get in on this as a part owner, got some ideas, but ultimately it’s Johnny’s place, and I gotta respect that. We’ve not really discussed it yet, new venture and all.”
“I gotcha. It’s totally understandable. Just keep it in mind, yeah? That’s all I’m saying,” she nodded, eyeing a nearby pool table.
“No doubt, we ain’t gonna turn away a few extra bucks if we can do it with dignity.” Josh agrees, heading behind the bar.
“What’s your poison?”
“Got any whiskey?” Cass asked casually.
“Duh.” Josh responds, pulling out several bottles and inspecting them.
“Any preferences?” He adds.
She points to the Jack Daniel’s. Josh nods and promptly begins pouring into two glasses, sliding one further down the surface of the bar for Cass to receive.
“Hey. Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?” Cass asked after taking a swig.
“You still seem pretty tense to me. And you were acting awfully defensive in the car.”
“I’m always tense, that’s just how I am, ain’t nothing botherin’ me right now.” He answers, taking a sip of the whiskey, “Gettin’ to have a few drinks in my new bar with a good friend? I couldn’t ask for more.”
Again, deflection.
“We’re gonna end up getting hammered again just like the 4th of July, aren’t we?” Cass chuckled.
“That’s gotta be a rhetorical question, yeah?”
“I figured the answer was a resounding ‘fuck yeah’ but…”
“There’s a reason we got a logo that says ‘shut up and drink’, Cass.”
“It was the cheapest sign they had?”
Josh laughs.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“See? You’re already sounding a lot better! Enjoy yourself,” she nodded, taking another sip of her whiskey.
“Easier said than done some days. Not gonna take long before I’m all straightened out at this rate though, don’t worry about that.”
“So I suppose you’re a bartender tonight, huh? So I should talk to you about all my problems?”
“I mean, I’m not gonna say you can’t.”
“So, this morning… I stubbed my toe on the kitchen table. Hurt like hell.”
“Hey, as long as you’re still walking, that ain’t my problem. I’m not a doctor. Want me to check your reflexes too?”
“I’ve got the reflexes of a cat… a blind cat with awful reflexes,” she told him, exaggerating and poking fun at herself.
“Oh yeah, heard that helps a lot with this whole wrestling thing we do.”
“I’ve just sorta been punching blindly until something good happens,” she lies, continuing to suggest she was an awful wrestler.
“Don’t let the public know that. Gotta pretend you know what you’re doing.” Josh teased.
“Oh, they’ll never know,” Cass chuckles. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Maybe we oughta switch places and I should be the bartender now? Then you can tell me all your problems.”
“I think you need some kinda degree before you start tryna pick at my brain.”
“I got a journalism degree. That’s pretty much all about picking people’s brains for information! Shouldn’t that count?”
“Not quite the type I had in mind, but I can tell you ain’t gonna let this go.”
“You know me too well,” she smirks, taking another swig. “Just a little reminder: What’s said between you and me doesn’t read the public - no matter what. So feel free to spill those beans.”
“Look, it ain’t that I don’t trust you. Believe me, I do. I just wanna have a good time, and right now, digging through all this shit ain’t my idea of a good time, so just, please let it go, yeah?”
“Alright. Okay. I’m sorry. I was just trying to help but I’ll ease back. The last thing I wanna do is overstep my boundaries with you,” Cass responded sincerely, looking down at the legs of the stool beneath her.
“Thank you. I appreciate that. Maybe we can talk about this all again later, but right now, I’m just not ready to dredge all of that up.”
“Fair enough,” Cass nodded. “Hey, you remember those fireworks back on the 4th?”
“Not as well as I should, probably…”
“Hah. Maybe we should do it again sometime. Preferably when we’re both sober so we can remember, yeah? Could be nice.”
“Hmm, guess I don’t see a reason not to. Still got a few left over from last time and all, we can figure something out.” Josh agrees with a smile.
“Just make sure you don’t come close to losing your hand this time, okay? I’m not really how wrestling would work like that.”
“Did that happen last time? I don’t even remember.” Josh says with a shocked laugh.
“Yeah! I tried to warn you but your dumbass decided it’d be a good idea to stay two feet away when the fireworks went off.”
“Well, I’m alive. And mostly unburned, so I guess that’s all ok.”
“Mostly unburned?” Cass’ eyebrows raised. She was mostly just kidding but that caught her off guard.
“Well, yeah…” Josh says, upturning his arm, revealing a small, circular patch of irregularly colored skin just at the center of the wrist. An obvious cigarette burn. During one of his matches on the independent circuit, some opponent had walked out with a lit cigarette and decided to put it out on the most tender part of Josh’s arm.
“Yeah, you don’t get through all these deathmatches without a few burns, y’know. Hell, Johnny just branded my chest; it’s pretty awesome. Wanna see?”
Cass just looks at Josh like he was crazy.
“... Did he mistake you for a cow?”
“Something tells me you haven’t really watched much of Slaughterhouse, we’re all fuckin’ nuts over there. Again, this is one of my closest friends we’re talkin’ about here. His name’s right on that wall.”
She glanced to see that Josh was telling the truth. Scribbled right under Josh’s name was Johnny’s signature.
“Are you sure you guys aren’t literally batshit insane?” She said it jokingly, smirking at him.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure we are. Hey, at least we’re self-aware.”
Cass laughed.
“Just… Don’t hurt yourself too bad, alright? I don’t want you to come back here as just a skeleton one day. Well, more of a skeleton,” she smiled, gently poking fun at how thin Josh was.
“I’ll try. No promises.” He chuckles at the subtle dig.
“You develop bad habits when you can’t afford to eat most days.”
“You know I can loan you a little bit of money if that’s the issue, yeah?”
“That ain’t been the issue for years, thanks for the offer, but that’s the last thing you gotta worry about with me right now. Bad habits die hard, as they say. Food and I got a… weird relationship now.”
Cass nods.
“Let’s just hope you don’t die with ‘em, alright?”
“Well, that sure ain’t the plan.”
Smiling, she dragged her hand along the bar and moved back to her whiskey, taking a big swig of the warm alcohol.
“I know you said you didn’t wanna talk about it but…” Her eyes looked down at her drink and then flickered towards Josh again. “You gonna be alright against Artemis? You don’t plan on dying there either, yeah?”
Josh sighs and takes a huge gulp of his whiskey, almost draining most of what was left in the glass.
“I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about it, alright?!” He snaps.
“You’re gonna do great, dude. There’s no reason to be defensive. Just because this Artemis used marketing and shit to advertise herself as this unbeatable monster doesn’t mean it’s true, yeah? You’re overreacting. You’re—”
Josh interrupts her.
“Nah, that ain’t marketing, that ain’t a front. That’s really her, Cass. You got no fuckin’ idea if that’s what you think. My biggest fans don’t believe in me. Hell, most of my friends don’t think I stand a chance. That’s for real, and the only reason for it is because they know what she’s capable of.”
“You wanna believe that bullshit? Fine. You’re gonna have to face the facts eventually and see you’re gonna be alright. All this stressing? That’s what’s really going to be the death of you.”
Josh sighs. She was right, and some small part of him knew it.
“I wouldn’t be stressin’ at all if we could just have a nice time like I came out here for. I told you I didn’t wanna dredge this shit up right now. Look, I’m sorry if I’m bein’ an asshole, but this really ain’t what I wanna do.” He confesses.
“Okay… Okay, it’s fine. I overstepped my boundaries. I was trying to help and I went too far,” Cass admitted softly, taking the final sip of her whiskey.
“I know you mean well, I know you’re just concerned, and I appreciate that, really, I do. But this is my own battle to fight, y’know? It’s all internal. No matter how much you try, I gotta deal with this on my own. You get that, right?”
“Yeah, I get that. I completely understand,” she nodded, thinking for a moment. “How about we have a toast instead? To not getting our limbs blown off on the 4th of July!”
Cass raised her glass. Josh smiles, goofy as it was, it had broken the tension that was there just moments ago.
“Ain’t no harm in that I suppose. And to hopefully keeping all my limbs after the show in August.” He replies, clicking his glass with her own.
“Cheers!” Cass laughs, sitting back down at the barstool.
Josh goes back behind the bar, the last sip from the toast having drained the last of his drink.
“How about another?” He suggests, grinning.
“Hit me!”
9th July 2017
Off-Camera
“If something is catching in my throat, just at the edges of these moments; it must be this, and not whatever I tell myself it is” – Have A Nice Life (“Sisyphus”)
Josh’s eyes are locked on the television screen as he intently watches the match he has lined up. His notebook rests at his side, pen in hand, scrawling down notes as he observes. Rewinding and going over each moment in fine, obsessive detail. His notes are equally disorganized, and unnecessarily detailed. He’s written down potential counters to Artemis’ moves, the weapons she tends to gravitate towards and the kinds of swings she appears to favor, and attempted to look for details even Artemis herself may not have noticed about her in-ring work, the small subconscious choices she makes. Really, even Josh doesn’t fully understand why he does this to this level of incredibly particular, obsessive detail. There’s a point at which research stops being helpful, and the twelve pages of notes he was attempting to expand upon even further were probably well past that limit. But Josh is obsessed with doing as best he could, he always had been, and this strange, unhealthy ritual helps him ease the many anxieties he had about performing. He continues flicking his eyes across his notes and the screen, attempting to catch something, anything new, pen poised just over the page.
Just then, Josh’s phone rings, interrupting his concentration.
“For fuck’s…” He begins with an exasperated sigh, before looking at the screen, his frustration melting away in an instant as he sees who it is.
“Yo.” He answers.
“Asshole,” Cass Baumer begins the call nonchalantly, kidding around. “You busy right now? I’m not interrupting anything important?”
Josh looks at the TV again for a moment. He’d been looking over footage all day, and there was only so far his obsessive research could get him without driving him insane. He grabs the remote and turns it off. He could do with the break, that much was for certain.
“Nah, not anymore.” He answers.
“I just wanted to say thanks for the other night,” Cass begins, as sincerely as she can.
“I was really on edge with everything going on with Gabe and all them but you just popped into my DMs to see what was wrong. It was nice, y’know? Not everyone would’ve done that.”
“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t seem yourself, something was bothering you. That’s what friends are there for, ain’t it? Help each other out and all that sentimental shit?”
“Probably. I mostly just end up accidently burning those bridges down so I wouldn’t know,” she jokes, poking fun at herself.
“I’m too stubborn to let you get rid of me that easily.” Josh chuckles.
“Hah. I’ll hold you to that,” she teased. “Did you wanna hang out or something tonight? Maybe head to the local bar?”
“Gonna try and put my patience to the test, huh? Yeah, sure. Actually, me and my buddies have just acquired a bar of our own, wanna check it out?”
“Should I bring money?”
“Free bar for as long as nobody catches us.” He jokes.
“We’ll be like drunk ninjas!”
“You already tried that on the 4th, remember?”
Cass bursts out in laughter.
“No, seriously. Should I pay? I’m not exactly rolling in dough right now sooo…”
“Nah, you’re good, cheapskate.” he ribs, “Really, I don’t think anybody’s gonna be there, so it’s a free bar.”
“That’s my favorite kind of bar, you know that?”
“I think that’s everyone’s, so I ain’t surprised.”
“So you want me to pick you up or did you wanna meet up at the bar?” Cass responded after another laugh.
“Hey, as long as you ain’t expecting a limo or a fancy car I can give you a ride.”
“You drive a tricycle, don’t you?”
“Unicycle, actually. C’mon, I thought your anonymous sources would get that right.”
“I guess I must’ve missed that submission! Damn,” Cass chuckled again. “Nah but it’s fine. Whatever you’re driving is cool by me. I’m not really the superficial type… So I can expect to see you on your unicycle in how long?”
“Let’s say an hour, yeah? Traffic in the unicycle lanes can get pretty crazy.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” Cass smirked. “You hear about that 50 unicycle pile up the other day? Must have made it so much harder for you!”
Josh laughs loudly.
“Oh, god, you can’t even imagine.”
“I’ll see you in an hour, dude. Drive safe.”
One Hour Later:
“What? No unicycle?! You disappoint me,” Cass greeted loudly as she approached the small, humble Volkswagen from the front door, eyeing Josh the whole way down the lawn.
“It’s in the shop, needed a tune-up.” Josh retorts.
He opens the door for her, and beckons her into the passenger seat.
“Your chariot awaits, madam.” He says, in a terrible approximation of an English accent.
As Cass shoots Josh a look and raises her eyebrows, Josh shrugs it off.
“I mean, I know you said you weren’t the superficial type and all…”
“So you think I’m into chariots?” she laughs, getting into the passenger seat with a shrug.
“Nah, just figured I could throw in a little flourish. You laughed, I think that means I win.”
“Fine. You win, okay! I admit it,” she shut the passenger door as soon as Josh moved out of the way. “Just don’t get used to it.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’ll make sure to send you the Smartass Championship in the mail.”
“I’ve been after two belts at once for a while, hasn’t happened yet, I’ll take that as a victory.”
With a smirk, Cass buckled her seatbelt and made sure the door was locked.
“Hey, ain’t nobody wanting to steal this rustbucket.”
“I don’t know how you drive! I don’t wanna die today, alright? You never know.”
“Usually I use the pedals and the steering wheel, I dunno about you…” He said, slowly starting to pull the car away.
With a straight face, Cass responded. “I really hate you right now.”
“Shame you locked the door then, ‘cause we’re moving. Guess that means you’re stuck with me.”
“I could open the window and shout ‘I’m being kidnapped! Help!’”
“Never been part of a police chase before, go ahead.” He teases, calling her bluff.
Cass couldn’t help but laugh again.
“How do you manage to always make me laugh though? Hypnotism? Sorcery? What’s your secret?”
“Ever heard the phrase ‘a magician never reveals his secrets’? Let’s go with that.”
“Alright, Harry Potter... Let’s go get drunk as fuck!”
“I think I can handle that.”
“So what have you been up to, anyway? Bet you live the busy life, huh?” Cass asks after some time of driving.
“Training my ass off. Two title matches and a supershow all in the space of a month means I’ve got a lot goin’ on. I’m happy though, it’s good. I love doing this.” Josh deflects, his answer coming across a little defensive, as though he’s trying to convince himself almost as much as he is Cass.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Cass tilted her head, hearing some doubt in the way Josh spoke. As an ex-journalist, Cassandra’s observation skills were better than most.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s fine.” He lies.
“People don’t usually repeat the same thing twice when they’re telling the truth, Josh.” Josh knows he’s being totally transparent, but doesn’t really care all that much.
“What’s there to say?” “I don’t know. Just because I can notice details other people might miss doesn’t mean I’m a mind reader. You’re gonna have to tell me.”
“Nah, not really. I don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll figure it out.” He insists, once again attempting to push the subject away.
“You know on Friday when something was bothering me and you helped me out? You said I could go to you whenever something was bothering me, yeah? It works both ways. So if something’s on your mind, you might as well spill it, right? Might make you feel better.”
“Look, I don’t wanna talk about it, alright? Let’s just hit the bar and get drunk off our asses. I just wanna have a good time right now, that’s it. Can we please just put a pin in it, at least for now?”
“Fine. Okay. Just remember I’ve got your back, okay?” Cass spoke genuinely before continuing in a snarky tone. “No matter what the rumors say.”
“Appreciate it.”
The second part catches Josh’s attention, and he raises an eyebrow.
“What rumors?”
“You don’t wanna know…”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll report ‘em soon enough, guess I’ll just wait to find out.”
“Until then… Is it booze o’clock yet?”
Josh looks down the road and indicates towards the bar just a little further down.
“More or less.” He says, as he slows down to pull up outside.
‘Shut Up and Drink’, as the painted sign outside so clearly labelled the bar wasn’t exactly a whole lot to look at. Not that it needed to be, the classic dive bar exterior consisted primarily of a worn, dark oak. Despite its rough appearance, it looked fairly inviting, the warm glow of the internal lights beaming across the street, the walls on the inside chaotically plastered with cuttings of artwork, photographs and graffiti. Through the windows a few small wooden tables with accompanying chairs could be seen, as well as the two pool tables. Although not yet open for the general public, Josh produced a small silver-colored key from his pocket and used it to open the door.
“The perks of having friends in low places, huh?” He grins as he swings the door open and waits for his guest to enter ahead of him.
“You’ve got your own bar? How’d you pull this one off?” Cass explored the interior with her eyes, running her fingers along the top of the long bar as she looked at the artwork on the wall.
“My buddy Johnny bought it, technically, got it for the group. A HQ, of sorts, place to unwind after Slaughterhouse shows. Think this is gonna be a new haunt of ours.”
“So it’s a Filth Parade thing,” she nodded, standing in front of the wall covered in photographs, looking at the images with an observant eye.
“Sure is. Got our names all over it. Literally.” He says, pointing to the part of the wall where all five of the group had scrawled their names. Rebel Manson, Silas Subhuman, Johnny Vachon, and Eddy Poe. It was clear to see that two gaps had been left for some names that had yet to grace the bar with their presence, too.
“So if this is Filth Parade territory... What does that make me then?” Cass asked inquisitively with a smirk.
“I guess that’s up to you. We tend to call our friends ‘Filth by Association’.”
Cass just rolled her eyes.
“Of cooourse you do,” she laughed, glancing at the giant ‘Shut Up and Drink’ logo mounted on the back wall.
“You know, with the right marketing, this place could end up giving you guys a whole lotta money in your pockets. Wouldn’t be too hard either. You can practically advertise anything on social media and get a profit.”
“Never said it was anythin’ earth-shatterin’, what’s the harm in a cheesy pun?”
Josh nods at Cass’ observations.
“We might consider it. Might not. I kinda wanna see if I can get in on this as a part owner, got some ideas, but ultimately it’s Johnny’s place, and I gotta respect that. We’ve not really discussed it yet, new venture and all.”
“I gotcha. It’s totally understandable. Just keep it in mind, yeah? That’s all I’m saying,” she nodded, eyeing a nearby pool table.
“No doubt, we ain’t gonna turn away a few extra bucks if we can do it with dignity.” Josh agrees, heading behind the bar.
“What’s your poison?”
“Got any whiskey?” Cass asked casually.
“Duh.” Josh responds, pulling out several bottles and inspecting them.
“Any preferences?” He adds.
She points to the Jack Daniel’s. Josh nods and promptly begins pouring into two glasses, sliding one further down the surface of the bar for Cass to receive.
“Hey. Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?” Cass asked after taking a swig.
“You still seem pretty tense to me. And you were acting awfully defensive in the car.”
“I’m always tense, that’s just how I am, ain’t nothing botherin’ me right now.” He answers, taking a sip of the whiskey, “Gettin’ to have a few drinks in my new bar with a good friend? I couldn’t ask for more.”
Again, deflection.
“We’re gonna end up getting hammered again just like the 4th of July, aren’t we?” Cass chuckled.
“That’s gotta be a rhetorical question, yeah?”
“I figured the answer was a resounding ‘fuck yeah’ but…”
“There’s a reason we got a logo that says ‘shut up and drink’, Cass.”
“It was the cheapest sign they had?”
Josh laughs.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“See? You’re already sounding a lot better! Enjoy yourself,” she nodded, taking another sip of her whiskey.
“Easier said than done some days. Not gonna take long before I’m all straightened out at this rate though, don’t worry about that.”
“So I suppose you’re a bartender tonight, huh? So I should talk to you about all my problems?”
“I mean, I’m not gonna say you can’t.”
“So, this morning… I stubbed my toe on the kitchen table. Hurt like hell.”
“Hey, as long as you’re still walking, that ain’t my problem. I’m not a doctor. Want me to check your reflexes too?”
“I’ve got the reflexes of a cat… a blind cat with awful reflexes,” she told him, exaggerating and poking fun at herself.
“Oh yeah, heard that helps a lot with this whole wrestling thing we do.”
“I’ve just sorta been punching blindly until something good happens,” she lies, continuing to suggest she was an awful wrestler.
“Don’t let the public know that. Gotta pretend you know what you’re doing.” Josh teased.
“Oh, they’ll never know,” Cass chuckles. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Maybe we oughta switch places and I should be the bartender now? Then you can tell me all your problems.”
“I think you need some kinda degree before you start tryna pick at my brain.”
“I got a journalism degree. That’s pretty much all about picking people’s brains for information! Shouldn’t that count?”
“Not quite the type I had in mind, but I can tell you ain’t gonna let this go.”
“You know me too well,” she smirks, taking another swig. “Just a little reminder: What’s said between you and me doesn’t read the public - no matter what. So feel free to spill those beans.”
“Look, it ain’t that I don’t trust you. Believe me, I do. I just wanna have a good time, and right now, digging through all this shit ain’t my idea of a good time, so just, please let it go, yeah?”
“Alright. Okay. I’m sorry. I was just trying to help but I’ll ease back. The last thing I wanna do is overstep my boundaries with you,” Cass responded sincerely, looking down at the legs of the stool beneath her.
“Thank you. I appreciate that. Maybe we can talk about this all again later, but right now, I’m just not ready to dredge all of that up.”
“Fair enough,” Cass nodded. “Hey, you remember those fireworks back on the 4th?”
“Not as well as I should, probably…”
“Hah. Maybe we should do it again sometime. Preferably when we’re both sober so we can remember, yeah? Could be nice.”
“Hmm, guess I don’t see a reason not to. Still got a few left over from last time and all, we can figure something out.” Josh agrees with a smile.
“Just make sure you don’t come close to losing your hand this time, okay? I’m not really how wrestling would work like that.”
“Did that happen last time? I don’t even remember.” Josh says with a shocked laugh.
“Yeah! I tried to warn you but your dumbass decided it’d be a good idea to stay two feet away when the fireworks went off.”
“Well, I’m alive. And mostly unburned, so I guess that’s all ok.”
“Mostly unburned?” Cass’ eyebrows raised. She was mostly just kidding but that caught her off guard.
“Well, yeah…” Josh says, upturning his arm, revealing a small, circular patch of irregularly colored skin just at the center of the wrist. An obvious cigarette burn. During one of his matches on the independent circuit, some opponent had walked out with a lit cigarette and decided to put it out on the most tender part of Josh’s arm.
“Yeah, you don’t get through all these deathmatches without a few burns, y’know. Hell, Johnny just branded my chest; it’s pretty awesome. Wanna see?”
Cass just looks at Josh like he was crazy.
“... Did he mistake you for a cow?”
“Something tells me you haven’t really watched much of Slaughterhouse, we’re all fuckin’ nuts over there. Again, this is one of my closest friends we’re talkin’ about here. His name’s right on that wall.”
She glanced to see that Josh was telling the truth. Scribbled right under Josh’s name was Johnny’s signature.
“Are you sure you guys aren’t literally batshit insane?” She said it jokingly, smirking at him.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure we are. Hey, at least we’re self-aware.”
Cass laughed.
“Just… Don’t hurt yourself too bad, alright? I don’t want you to come back here as just a skeleton one day. Well, more of a skeleton,” she smiled, gently poking fun at how thin Josh was.
“I’ll try. No promises.” He chuckles at the subtle dig.
“You develop bad habits when you can’t afford to eat most days.”
“You know I can loan you a little bit of money if that’s the issue, yeah?”
“That ain’t been the issue for years, thanks for the offer, but that’s the last thing you gotta worry about with me right now. Bad habits die hard, as they say. Food and I got a… weird relationship now.”
Cass nods.
“Let’s just hope you don’t die with ‘em, alright?”
“Well, that sure ain’t the plan.”
Smiling, she dragged her hand along the bar and moved back to her whiskey, taking a big swig of the warm alcohol.
“I know you said you didn’t wanna talk about it but…” Her eyes looked down at her drink and then flickered towards Josh again. “You gonna be alright against Artemis? You don’t plan on dying there either, yeah?”
Josh sighs and takes a huge gulp of his whiskey, almost draining most of what was left in the glass.
“I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about it, alright?!” He snaps.
“You’re gonna do great, dude. There’s no reason to be defensive. Just because this Artemis used marketing and shit to advertise herself as this unbeatable monster doesn’t mean it’s true, yeah? You’re overreacting. You’re—”
Josh interrupts her.
“Nah, that ain’t marketing, that ain’t a front. That’s really her, Cass. You got no fuckin’ idea if that’s what you think. My biggest fans don’t believe in me. Hell, most of my friends don’t think I stand a chance. That’s for real, and the only reason for it is because they know what she’s capable of.”
“You wanna believe that bullshit? Fine. You’re gonna have to face the facts eventually and see you’re gonna be alright. All this stressing? That’s what’s really going to be the death of you.”
Josh sighs. She was right, and some small part of him knew it.
“I wouldn’t be stressin’ at all if we could just have a nice time like I came out here for. I told you I didn’t wanna dredge this shit up right now. Look, I’m sorry if I’m bein’ an asshole, but this really ain’t what I wanna do.” He confesses.
“Okay… Okay, it’s fine. I overstepped my boundaries. I was trying to help and I went too far,” Cass admitted softly, taking the final sip of her whiskey.
“I know you mean well, I know you’re just concerned, and I appreciate that, really, I do. But this is my own battle to fight, y’know? It’s all internal. No matter how much you try, I gotta deal with this on my own. You get that, right?”
“Yeah, I get that. I completely understand,” she nodded, thinking for a moment. “How about we have a toast instead? To not getting our limbs blown off on the 4th of July!”
Cass raised her glass. Josh smiles, goofy as it was, it had broken the tension that was there just moments ago.
“Ain’t no harm in that I suppose. And to hopefully keeping all my limbs after the show in August.” He replies, clicking his glass with her own.
“Cheers!” Cass laughs, sitting back down at the barstool.
Josh goes back behind the bar, the last sip from the toast having drained the last of his drink.
“How about another?” He suggests, grinning.
“Hit me!”
