Better or worse

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“ That’s the thing about acid. Some of it doesn’t burn the way one might think. Hydrochloric, for instance. Eats away at items, things, but not people. It can burn the clothes off your body, the rings off your hands, but leave your skin as fresh as it was found. ”
_______________________

“ So, how did it go? ”

“ …unexpectedly well, actually. ”

There’s always a level of difficulty in any family gathering. But mine are particularly difficult. I don’t want to get into all of the problems, as I wouldn’t know where to start. But suffice to say, getting everyone you know to travel to the middle of nowhere and stay in a trailer park, that’ll add levels of difficulty to say the least. Especially when your entire family is so used to having everything that they can’t imagine having less, even for a few days. But I convinced them using traditional methods.

Vincent Black
“ I told Jack I’d go to every single rally he had, I told Kal I’d tell his wife where he really got that bruise that time, I told Candace I’d cover the expenses for the Rabbit’s upgrade, and the rest of them I either bribed or threatened. ”

Dr. Abigail Tenor
“ Those are traditional methods. ”

“ We’re a very traditional family. ”

The highlights of the night include when I told my son his step-sister was going to be moving to the compound, and he’d get to see her more often. He loves his other sisters, but they don’t have a lot in common. Ripley is more like her mother. Tough, fun, and creative. They have a blast together. He doesn’t make friends easily. Something we have in common. But the absolute highlight of the night was telling them all I was moving out of NYC on a permanent basis, and back to the compound. My kids miss me. I see it in their eyes every time they look at me. Maybe half as much as I miss them. And I’m tired of it. It’s been eating away at me slowly and painfully, and I’m over it. I wanted to marry my wife, not leave my kids behind. That’s what I’ve done. Now I’m going to undo it. Well. I can’t undo it. I can make it better, or I can make it worse. I am going to make it better.

I am going to make it all better. Or at least die trying.

“ Speaking of making things better, Any luck locating your sister? ”

“ Does bad luck count? ”

I’ve spent a good amount of money and time trying to locate her, but she knows my tactics. She knows the level of resources I have is unlimited and she knows how I’d use them. She’s stayed under the radar. I’d be impressed if it wasn’t annoying. But like most things, it’s worth doing despite how long it takes. Even if it makes me go to places I swore I’d never go back to.

Like High School.

Susan E. Wagner high school was where we went as kids. Walking in there as an adult was probably one of the most surreal moments of my life. I was as tall in my time there as I am now, I think? So it wasn’t physical perception that got to me. It was more of a mental one. But things seemed bigger than. Larger. More impending and visually threatening. Even a security guard that I recognized the second he recognized me. He was older, of course, but he seemed far bigger then than he does now, and he hasn’t even changed that much. His hair style was the same and his mustache was as bushy as it ever was. He sauntered, and yes I mean sauntered, over to me with this grimace expression. As if he expected the same violent child that he dealt with instead of a grown man.

I mean, he’s not wrong.

It took some convincing and a pointless pat down but I was able to get permission to enter. And they were nice enough to escort me the entire way to the 4th floor. Which is honestly not even a floor. It’s half a floor. There was a room at the top of this one particular staircase and they decided to make it into a chemistry lab. I assume it was because when some miscreant set the room on fire it wouldn’t threaten the lives of anyone above. Or maybe it was because the chem teacher, Mr. Cignaraolo’s breath was so bad they wanted it as far from others as possible.

Unlike the security guard, he had changed. He was frail, and tired. His back was arched and his hair which had once been thick and luxurious, was now thin and dry looking. As I walked in, he took one look at me, opened his desk drawer, and popped in a breath mint. It was nice to see he still remembered me, too.

He sat down at his desk, and rather than stand by him, I took my old seat in the middle of the room. It, too, was surreal. Sitting there where I once sat with a girl named Bianca, who had the hairiest arms and biggest nose I’d ever seen. But she was kind to me, which a lot of people weren’t. At that moment I thought of her for the first time in decades, and almost missed her.

He was helpful. Granted not very, but enough. He remembered more about the fights I started, the fire I helped put out, granted I also started it, but still helpful. And then he gave me the info I was looking for, an old boyfriend of my sisters whose family she was close to. And then he asked me something I wasn’t expecting. He asked if I ever got away from my dad.

“ How did that make you feel? ”

“ Angry. He knew what I was going through and did nothing. But also, what was he supposed to do? What could he do even if it was his place? I let it go. I had to. Also he seemed happy I was ok. So that helped. ”

And being in his classroom, made me think of the lessons he taught and subsequently my opponent, Beth. Mr. C was big on demonstrations. He didn’t just tell us things like the history teacher or social studies teacher had to. He had the ability to show us.

He poured a bunch of Hydrochloric acid into a glass container, and dropped several items into it. Paper clips, rubber bands, etc. And we watched as it ate through them like it was nothing. And then he stuck his entire arm into it. The gasp that came from most of the women, and the laughs that came from most of the guys are burned into my memory, but only because of the confidence that Mr. C had that whatever happened, he’d be ok. He knew the acid couldn’t hurt him.

And I feel the same way about Beth. Not to say that she doesn’t have a chance at winning, or that she isn’t capable of dealing physical damage to me. She can cause me pain. But she can’t hurt me. Not in any way that counts. Not because of what she is made of. But because of what I am made of.

“ And what are you made of? ”

Vincent Black
“ I’d like to say I was made of the coldest shit ever. Because most acids can be neutralized by cold water, or ice. But the truth is…I’m made of weaknesses and broken bits fused together by intent. Intent to overlook them and to succeed despite them. I like to pretend I’m the strongest guy in the room. But that strength is no more than a callous that's formed over all of the parts that should hurt and would hurt, if they could feel anything at all anymore. And I don’t know how to shake that off and I doubt I could even if I did. ”

“ I gather a lot of people in your business feel this way, or something close to it. ”

“ They all feel something. ”

“ …what do you mean? ”

“ I don’t know. It seems like, when I started in this business, being a man of my size and stature was enough. Now the fans need to feel connected to us? And all of a sudden, just…everyone has fucking feelings. When I came up, we buried that. You did your job, and you did it again and you only spoke when speaking about the next job. NOW ALL OF A FUCKING SUDDEN WE ALL HAVE FEELINGS!? I HAVE TO GIVE A FUCK HOW EVERYONE ELSE FEELS!? I can barely handle my own. Those that I care for. Now I have to give a fuck about everyone elses, too? I wasn’t made for this. ”

“ Well, honestly you were made for the opposite. You said it yourself that you could see the emotions in your children's eyes. How they missed you. This isn’t something that someone as far down the spectrum as you claim to be is capable of. It’s not something one can learn, or fake, as you claim you can. You are fully capable of seeing the emotional state of others, Vincent. You’ve been trained to look past it. By your father, and then, by yourself. ”

“ So how come I can’t stop? ”

“ Have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome? ”

“ You think I have it? That I love my father for doing this to me? ”

“ No. And it isn’t love per se. It's an attachment. Justification of their actions. You have formed an attachment, not with him, but the version of you that he created. This violent monster that he shaped you into. It’s so much a part of you that you can’t fathom being any other way. In fact, you bought into it so hard that the only time you feel at peace within yourself, is when you sit in a chair and watch as someone makes your outside look like your inside. ”

“ Now wait a second.. ”

“ Vincent, you can sit in a chair and be still for six hours anywhere. But in that chair, you are turned into what you consider yourself to be. You did not wake up one day and suddenly see yourself this way. You were conditioned. Tell me, Was what he did to you a good thing? ”

“ No. ”

Dr. Abigail Tenor
“ Did he do it to help you? Or to hurt you? Was it the worst thing he could have done to you? Do you think you’d be this way if it wasn’t for him? Would you ever do what he did to you, to your son? ”

“ …no. ”

“ Vincent. I know the physical beatings he gave you were terrible. But you have to come to terms with how he dealt with you mentally. Those bruises aren’t ever going to fade until you do. ”

I stood to leave and she stopped me. We were well over our time, but she had to ask me a question. She told me not to answer until our next session.

Vhodka Black
“ What’d she ask? ”

I look at my wife, this gorgeous creature of pure chaos and light and I want to cry. I’ve been this lost before and I feel it creeping again and suddenly Acid Beth isn’t my biggest problem. My biggest problem is how absolutely fucked I am at seperating all of the things I have to be for others and the things I need to be for myself. I want to tell her, I want to scream it, but I can’t. Because I don’t know how.

Vincent Black
“ Doesn’t matter. Help me with this post I’m going to put out on Acid Beth. Listen, give notes, but wait until the end. Ok? ”

“ ‘f course. Go for it. But take off your pants. ”

“ Focus. ”

“ Fine. ”

“ Beth, there are things that I recall from earlier parts of my life that beyond my understanding, have stuck with me. These memories are not ones that are sat in the front of my brain, constantly waiting to be accessed. They are dormant and they resurface when the need arises. And you, my half faced friend, have brought up quite a few. Perhaps it was the fact that I was literally in the classroom where this lesson took place, but I honestly do not think I would have flashbacked so far had it not been for you. I remember watching as my teacher demonstrated how quickly acid could eat through something normally seen as tough, such as leather, or a nutshell, but would be rendered ineffective once introduced to a large amount of water, preferably cold. And I have to tell you, Beth. There is fucking nothing as cold as me. ”

“ Ok wait. ”

“ At the end, please. ”

“ Can’t. ”

“ Why? ”

“ One, has to have been done before. B, wrong type of acid. ”

“ ….You’re right. She’s the drug one. ”

“ She’s the drug one. ”

“ Unfortunate. I could have done an entire bit about how if she wanted to see disturbing things, all she’d have to do is come find me.”

“ Otherwise it was really…well it was terrible actually, but I think you should take your pants off. That could make it better. ”

“ This is exactly what I try to avoid. It’s why I do my homework. ”

“ You’ve been distracted, don’t be so hard on yourself. Be hard on me. And you need to talk to me, and not about the lucha-whore. What’s going on? ”

“ I feel myself tearing apart. I have all these parts of me. Your husband, the fighter, their father, their brother, and the friend, and I don’t know how to reconcile their wants and needs because they have never been more different. And the last time I felt this way, I made a mistake so huge that It didn’t just hurt me, but it hurt everyone, and I can’t seem to find my way out of it. ”

“ When I was a kid, I perceived things to be one way, not because I saw them that way, but because I wanted them to be that way. Like Beth. Beth is going to look at me, at my size, and she’s going to think ‘the bigger they are’ shit. But my size does not dictate that I am nothing more than a human turtle, incapable of rising to his feet once tossed onto it’s back. I’ve pulled off moves that smaller men have hurt themselves more than others in attempting. I’m far more agile than this Wynona Rider Little Woman is fragile, and that is saying something. ”

“ Again though, that’s perception. My mental perception of her is this tiny thing, but if she was as frail as I believe, she’d not be here. She’d have never made it this far. She’d be crippled, or worse. She’s not an idiot. In fact, she’s probably one of the smarter people I’ve dealt with here. Look at her matches against Ruby and Saphire. Look at the effort she put forth. The drive she had in those matches were respectable. But as per last week. The effort she put against La, that was serious. Drug references be damned, she knew she wanted the win and she came to get it. Now why did my brain, fucked as it is, allow me to think that just because she’s a lucha no bigger than my thumb, when it actuality, she’s tough as tanned leather and has been through hll to prove it? ”

“ You’ve been hanging out with my dad too much. ”

“ I agree. But don’t make me digress. Beth is small, but she’s deadly. She’s got the kind of talent people would sell their soul to the devil.. ”

“ You. ”

“ ...for rather than being rich or some sexy thing.. ”

“ Also you and you. ”

“ See, I can be all of those things, but which one matters most? Beth knows who she wants to be. She has this confidence about her that I couldn’t fake if I was drunk. She’s…personable. You know who she is? She’s the spanish female Murphy. He has that same connection to people. How they sing along to her theme song, which is fantastic. And they call out her moves, and it makes them feel like they’re a part of something. Meanwhile, I was asked for an autograph the other day and it took me 3 minutes before I realized what was happening. I started asking questions about the book in their hand. I can’t make that connection. My theme sucks. My moves are named for shit. And you know why? Because I don’t understand people. I don’t get what they want or why they’d want it from me. I’d trade my height, right here and now if I could make a fraction of the connection to this business that she has. ”

“ But don’t because of that one position we like. ”

“ The fact that she’s as small as she is, reminds me of something. Something not from chemistry. Something that has actual meaning to the situation. The flap of a butterflies wings. That is all some believe can change the outcome of the world. Should a butterfly not flap it’s wings at any given moment, perhaps a wave does not form, a school of fish does not follow, a fisherman does not eat, and his family moves on without him. One small thing can set many things in motion. And anyone that believes Beth isn’t one of those things is greatly mistaken. And I, in all of my unearned respect in this business, Couldn’t even be bothered to make a proper comparison. ”

“ It’s really not that big of a deal, Vee. It’s actually kind of creative, if you like low hanging fruit. Or cheap heat. ”

“ Yeah, But unlike most of my mistakes, I can fix this. I can make it better. Or...I can make it worse. ”

“ …you’re going to make it worse. ”

“ I am going to make it so much worse. Because that’s the job. It’s going out there and doing your best to destroy the other as fast as possible with little regard for their safety, or your own. It doesn’t change because you like the person, or at the very least respect them. So I have to be that guy. The one who claims he’s going to send her back to Puerto Rico, where she never should have been allowed to leave. The guy who says he’s going to make it so the next time she wants half her face to look dead, she won’t need the makeup. ”

“ No, say it like..’You want a skull face? I’ll make it so instead of putting makeup on, you’ll take makeup off. Because the skull would be underneath it, or whatever. ”

“ That’s good. I also want to tell her that while I’ve been in this business far longer, I don’t expect this fight to be easy. Tenure does not a professor make. I can tell her all the things I know and how I’ve learned them but by the end of the lecture the truth would be obvious; Some of my lessons are not worth knowing. It isn’t the point that would be lost on her. It’s because they no longer apply. I am a relic of a time long since passed. Things weren’t just done differently, but for different reasons entirely. And while I can’t do what she does so well; speak about how that makes me feel, or stand in front of a room full of people, and joke and laugh about this business while also impressing upon them that I am a serious competitor, or explain my actions or my wants, or even begin tell you how happy i am when someone's throat is in my hands, and there is nothing stopping me. I can’t explain any of that. But I can show it. ”

“ What’s wrong? ”

I almost ask her why she thinks something is wrong. And then I remember. She does not think. She knows.

“ My last days prior to you coming back, I was on the verge of giving up. Because I didn’t know how to be the way I used to be. I had things now. Things I loved. Things that overshadowed what I wanted from this business. I could be Dad. Dad was easy. But I couldn’t be…me. And then I saw you. And it reminded me of who I was, or who I once was. Who I used to be. And it pushed me. Not a lot. But far enough. And then Xavier had to go and buy it all up and now I was working for my brother. And instead of being this unknown and possibly dominant force, like Beth is here in PWE, I had to be the owner’s brother. And any success I had would be because of who I knew, and not because of what I do. So I gave up then as well. I tried to challenge myself without proving myself. Getting myself as close to victory as I could, without going over. It moved me from my spot, but not very far. And then you recommended coming here. And now I find myself fighting with people I don’t know, in the hopes it will move me from where I was, to where I want to be. ”

“ I can’t say for sure that I’m going to be able to neutralize Beth like I planned, or if I’ll even be able to get over the amount of fanfare she seems to have on her side. But I’m trying. I’m trying like I have tried before, but not in a long while. I want this business, these fans, all of these people to remember who I am. I want to change this world, not by telling them what I did, but for showing them what I continue to do. And I intend to make it a good amount more violent than the flap of a butterfly’s wing. ”

“ Good. That’s perfect. Put that out. Now for the bad news. ”

“ What bad news? ”

“ ..I didn't tell you I had good news and bad news? ”

“ No. What’s the good news? ”

“ Good news is we get to see Ripley sooner than we thought. Bad news is, she’s getting expelled for fighting. ”

“ …expelled? For fighting? That’s idiotic. Did she tear an eye out? ”

In that moment we looked at each other and realized that because of who this child was, the offspring of her and I, the chance that she did this was in fact greater than the chance that she did not. I let out a sigh as I grabbed her jacket and my own, and prepared for the trek to her school, which I may end up owning by the end of the day.

“ It’s a public school, so don’t think you can buy it. ”

“ I bought a town, Fran. I can buy this school with my pocket change.”

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The pocket change she dropped onto the table jittered about and rolled around a bit before settling. Had she stopped there, she would have been ok about it. But right behind it came some crumpled 5’s and even a 10. Had you told her a year earlier that she’d be this ecstatic to have $20.77 to her name, she’d had laughed at you. No. She’d have cackled. But now. Now it felt like success.

The woman at the store, had no only done her a kindess by giving her a job, but also a place to live. Granted it was a small two room apartment which the entrance lead out into a backyard, but it was hers. And while it wasn’t the nicest place she’s ever lived, it was nicer than any place she ever thought she’d live again.

She sat at the end of the bed, took a deep breath, folded her legs and cried. She cried until she was out of breath, and out of tears. But thankful, as these were tears of joy, for once.