May 23rd, 1987.
San Diego, California.
On this warm spring afternoon, a baby girl was born.
Annabelle Dixon smiled and cradled her newborn daughter in her arms.
Arthur Dixon was overjoyed by the newest addition to their family.
Their third daughter.
Gwendolyn was two.
Maximilian was three.
Nathaniel was just shy of six.
Caleigh was two months from turning fifteen.
Their baby sister was healthy.
A little expressive too.
She breathed, she sniffled, she cried, and she breathed again.
Held in their father’s arms, Gwen was too little to understand.
“Ba-ba?”
She just wanted her bottle.
Max was a little more reserved, hiding behind his big brother.
“It’s… a baby…”
Nate was in awe of their baby sister.
“She’s pretty. What’s her name?”
Cal walked over and gently picked up Max in her arms.
“Mum hasn’t given her a name yet.”
Max was a little shy when Cal brought him closer to their mother and baby sister.
Everywhere Cal went, Nate was right beside her and still in awe.
“She will have a beautiful name, one that suits her.”
Arthur was astute, even as he bottle-fed Gwen.
Annabelle smiled at her husband before her attention returned to their baby girl.
“Nathaniel, Caleigh, what do you think we should name her?”
As the oldest of the siblings, Cal took a moment to think about it.
As the second oldest, Nate was eager to answer.
“Big sister, your name ends with ‘leigh’. What fits with that?”
Caleigh blinked and tilted her head towards Nathaniel.
A soft smile crossed her face.
“...Ryleigh.”
The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
I'm only gettin' started…
I won't blackout!
This time, I've got nothing to waste.
Let's go a little harder.
I'm o-o-on fire!
I won't blackout!
I'm on my way.
I am pretty fucking hot. ♥
Even if I wasn’t a model, the result would be the same. It’s the truth! Pure and simple. Thirty-four years old and I still look like I’m in my early twenties.
No, I’m not sharing where the fountain of youth is.
Yes, I’m a model for Trenton Modeling Industries. I know that’s a little strange considering Ami’s stepfather is Emile Trenton. Some might assume bias and favoritism. To be fair, it wasn’t until May 2018 that I found out he was the one who adopted my oldest niece. That’s what happens when you’re kept out of the bloody loop.
Nate told me he knew who Ami was from the moment he saw her perform at a street fair in San Francisco. She was the dancing violinist. She was Cal and Henri’s daughter, alright.
We needed to keep her safe. That’s why…
I shake my head a little. If it’s not one thing that’s distracting me, it’s another. My brother invited me over, and while I have a spare key to his apartment, he wasn’t home to let me in. Rude! Sure, the text message he sent let me know he was running a little errand and that he would be back soon, but even then… how dare he keep his baby sister waiting!
So here I am, still a little angry at certain things on my Twitter timeline. You’d think the answer to “why?” would be obvious. I know, I’m a playgirl. I’m single, living it up, and honestly, it’s better this way. Relationships are a pain in the arse. You get close to someone, give them your heart, and then BAM! Neglect. Abuse. An untimely move. Infidelity. Need I say more?
Fuck off, James.
I hope you’re still burning in Hell, Lucas.
I’m sorry, Mary…
Choke on those dicks you loved so much, Dahlia.
The tea kettle’s whistle brings my attention to the electric stove. I move from the island of the kitchen to set the boiling water on another part of the stove before turning switching it off. I check the tea cabinet -- yes, there’s one specifically for tea -- and look through the options. I remove the box of hibiscus green tea and the box of Earl Grey. I place one bag of hibiscus green tea in one empty pink mug and place two bags of Earl Grey in one empty red mug. After that, I pour the water into each mug, set the tea kettle aside, and steep both hot beverages. Naturally, I add a small pour of organic honey and a light squeeze of lemon to the pink mug.
“You know I’m supposed to do that, baby sister.”
“Well, I’m not a boring traditionalist.”
Sass.
I turn towards the open door of the apartment and raise an eyebrow. Nate’s holding a small box in his hands. He uses his right foot to softly close the door behind him and makes his way over to the island, setting the box on top of it. His eyes move elsewhere, and soon I realize where he’s looking. I try to run over, but he swiftly takes my LG Velvet before I can grab it.
“Oi!”
“You won’t be needing your phone for now. Besides, you’ll want to enjoy these.”
“This doesn’t count as the dining table,” I fold my arms and watch him pocket my phone. “If I want to dance with the Devil, you can’t stop me.”
He gives me a sharp glare. I don’t flinch.
…Okay, maybe I did a little.
“No, I can’t.” He shakes his head slowly. “You’re an adult. What you do with whomever behind closed doors is none of my business. I certainly don’t want to know about your adventures.”
“And I don’t want to know about yours, either.” I stick my tongue out.
His hands move over to carefully open the box. I peer inside and my eyes brighten up. “Cupcakes!” I couldn’t help but squeal (like a little girl).
“You’ve always loved cupcakes more than scones.” He chuckles softly. “Sweet Mandy B’s right here in Streeterville. This was my little errand.”
“Worth it.” I grin and reach in to grab the one with mini chocolate chips.
He smirks a little. “You’re welcome.”
I take a big bite into the cupcake, the blend of chocolate and vanilla buttercream, the yellow cake, and it’s baked over a chocolate chip cookie. “Mmm…” This is probably the best cupcake I’ve ever had. When I look up, he smiles and laughs. “Mff?”
“Not very ladylike, I see. Gwendolyn would be peeved.”
Bah! Gwen. Mrs. Prim-and-Proper, even when she’s a nurse. I roll my eyes and enjoy this cupcake. He walks over to the mugs of tea I was steeping and nods. “Two bags of Earl Grey. No milk, no sugar, and no lemon. Good memory.”
Of course, I know Nate’s tea preference. I swear he has at least two cups a day. With thorough chewing and a swallow, I speak up. “You’re welcome.”
“Quite. So… you seemed to be annoyed by Lady Robi flirting with Mr. Callaway.”
Before I can take another bite of my cupcake, I stare quizzically at him. “Uh, no. Why would I--”
“Don’t try to deny it, Ryleigh.”
Ugh, he’s calling me by my first name. I hate that.
“I have the incredible power of observation. Your mood suddenly soured when she was making such flirtatious advances on the Collision General Manager. A little unprofessional since she’s on the same roster that he manages… but I digress.”
He grabs ahold of his tea and enjoys a slow sip, his eyes on me.
Damnit, Nate.
“That bloody harlot’s married and yet she has the audacity to try and seduce Mr. Callaway.”
“You know there are such things as open marriages.”
“That’s beside the point! He’s still her boss. It’s like you said: unprofessional.” I quickly take another bite of my cupcake.
“Do you like him?”
So I choke a little. What? I didn’t expect that question! Instead of going for my hot beverage, I turn and cough into my sleeve. His little chuckle that follows irritates me.
“He did save Ami from Mr. Morgan’s wrath… Such honor and bravery are to be respected.” He takes another sip of his tea before he walks over and picks out a carrot cupcake. “Then, of course, there’s his fine service. United States Marine Corps. Retired veteran with several medals and a purple heart. Do you remember what that means?”
My eyes widen slightly. My hold on this cupcake shakes a little before I force myself to look away. “Of course I do… The Purple Heart medal is presented to service members who have been wounded or killed as a result of enemy action while serving in the U.S. military. Jack has one.”
Gwen’s husband -- our brother-in-law -- was in the Army. Even now after retirement, he still continues to serve the family. So Mr. Callaway was…
I look over and watch my brother take a small yet savoring bite of his cupcake. He chews and swallows before he speaks again. “Mm, perfect with Earl Grey. Not too sweet…” He walks over to the calendar on the wall and observes the dates. “Last Friday, January 7th, Zion Wrestling: Fusion in Rochester, New York. Yesterday, Unified Global Wrestling Coalition: Synergy here in Chicago. This Monday, January 17th, Pro Wrestling Excellence: Victory VIII in Denver, Colorado. Saturday, January 22nd, New Frontier Wrestling: Trauma back in Chicago…”
“Someone’s busy,” I snipe. “That’s not even including your DCE schedule.”
“Please. The company is running itself at this point. That’s how efficient my work ethic is. I only need to come in when it’s of the utmost importance.” He takes another bite of his cupcake.
Well, he’s not wrong. Father doesn’t like to admit it out loud, but Nate has made the business three times more successful than when he ran it. It’s probably because he’s frustrated by my brother’s decision to completely pursue his wrestling career. Nate makes his way back to the counter, chews a little more, and picks up his mug for a drink. Seeing this, I move over and collect my mug, taking a couple of sips. A sweetened tea for a sweet cupcake. Perfect.
“I don’t know how you’re not diabetic,” he scoffs.
“Shut the fuck up,” I shoot a glare at him.
He just laughs and lightly taps my mug with his own. I grumble a little and take another sip. “You know, I thought Mr. Deimos was going to be my toughest challenge to date. Former three-time World Champion. When I soundly defeated him, I was… a little disappointed.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s right. Your first match on Synergy. You’ve got three points in the Global Challenge.”
“Yes. I’m not scheduled for the next Synergy. Every participant gets one show off. This one happens to be mine. But moving forward, I am relieved. This way I can focus on my upcoming bout with… Ugh, five other wrestlers.” He shakes his head. “Matches with multiple competitors are the worst.”
“Eyes on the back of your head.” I chime in. “Pick and choose your moves. See what’s open. Process of elimination.”
“Except it’s not an elimination match.” He sighs. “It’s a six-way main event. One fall.” He takes a drink from his mug.
“A six-way, huh? I’ve been in one of those. Pretty hot--”
Immediately, he turns away and spits the mouthful of hot tea into the kitchen sink. “Bloody Hell, Ryleigh! I don’t need to know your God damned sex life!”
I can’t help but grin. I like annoying Nate. “Call me Ryleigh again. See what happens.”
He takes a moment to compose himself and use a paper towel to lightly dab his lips. “Alright then. Bitch.”
“Wow!” I’m astounded. I’m laughing! I would be angry, but I didn’t think he had it in him. “Don’t let Father hear you call me that.”
“Oh please…” He smirks and looks away before taking another sip of his tea. “There’s nothing else the old man can do to me that I can’t handle.”
At this, I raise an eyebrow. He’s talking about the lectures and the business training, right? I open my mouth to ask, but--
“Never mind.” He stops me before I can start. “You’re leaving for Miami tomorrow morning, yes? Let’s go see a movie tonight. You’ve been excited for The 355, I believe.”
I blink. “Yeah, but that’s in theaters.”
“AMC River East 21. Pick the showtime and our seats. Use my Chase Sapphire debit card.”
He… he actually wants to go to a public movie theater? I can’t stop the look of awe and the smile on my face. “Well then, I need my phone back to access the AMC app.”
Even now, my brother finds a way to surprise me.
Chapter III: Her Brother, Her Protector
So hot,
Out the box,
Can we pick up the pace?
Turn it up,
Heat it up,
I need to be entertained!
Push the limit,
Are you with it?
Baby, don't be afraid…
“Ladies and gentlemen… Your Lord of Charisma is here.”
Within the Cadillac Palace Theater, the curtains are drawn to the sides and Nathaniel Dixon stands center stage in a Noir-styled tuxedo. The spotlight shines on him as he takes a bow. Like the Geva Theater Center, this theater is empty -- save for the camera and the professional behind it. They’re positioned in the audience, capturing a perfect view of the spectacle.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment. It’s a lovely Friday night in Chicago and I thought to myself… How shall I go about this? A simple promotion in my humble abode?
No. A slightly dynamic shoot in a theater that reveals a particular location for ominous purposes?
No. I wanted something new and different. So I decided… on this.”
He snaps his fingers and the lights go out. When they come back on, a small man of tremendous geek culture and thick-framed glasses stands on the stage. He’s a timid little thing. Nathaniel saunters over and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Ah, here you are. The Nerd. Please tell us your name.”
“Um… h-hi. I’m…
Spencer. Ernie Spencer.” The actor’s attempt at James Bond is acknowledged.
Nathaniel shakes his head. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“Yes sir.”
“Come now, Mr. Spencer.” Nathaniel pats his shoulder twice. “You’re the Hero of our little play! You’ve been searching for your princess, but she’s always in another castle. Isn’t that right?”
“O-oh, yes! My beautiful Princess Peach…” He tries to fantasize.
“Ah-ah, PG-13.” Nathaniel tsks softly. “You’re a free agent, yes? A guest wrestler among Pro Wrestling Excellence. Some people would immediately discredit you, but you defeated Alice on the last Victory. That is no easy feat! You should be proud of yourself. Bravo!” He claps.
Ernie claps along. Then he’s cut off by a “shhh” from Nathaniel.
“No one expected that.” He presses on. “Some say a nerd such as yourself doesn’t belong in the wrestling industry, but that’s been proven wrong time and time again. The Eternal Paladin herself, Mrs. Jessica Matthews, is a former two-time World Champion. Ms. Cali-Kate and Ms. Samantha Belmont are accomplished, nerdy wrestlers. Although he’s yet to leave his mark, Signore Marcello Vitale is an up-and-coming wrestler who’s also a professional cosplayer. There’s also that one Garrett sister, but nobody cares about that useless c*nt.”
There is a blatantly obvious edit of a Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World themed censor over Nathaniel’s mouth when he tries to curse.
Ernie’s eyes widen at what he’s just heard.
“Oh… that’s fun. F*cking bully.”
It happens again. Nathaniel’s amused. Before he can continue, a new challenger arrives -- and he resembles a ghost. A literal ghost.
“S~p~o~o~k~y…”
Wraith even makes himself sound like a ghost.
“AHHH!”
Ernie jumps and quickly hides behind Nathaniel.
The Intellectual Evolution facepalms. “Mr. Spencer, you’re the hero. Show a little courage.”
“No way! This isn’t Ghouls n’ Ghosts!”
Ernie’s panicking.
Wraith stalks a little closer to the two. “O~h~h~h~h~h…”
“Oh please, he’s but a child. I have twenty years over him.” Nathaniel scoffs. Magically, or perhaps it’s edited in, a black cane appears in his hands, and he lightly pokes the ghastly youth with it.
“H~a, h~a, h~a, t~h~a~t t~i~c~k~l~e~s~!”
Wraith squirms and laughs at the poking and prodding of his ribs. Apparently, ghosts are ticklish.
Nathaniel twirls the cane and taps it on the stage. “Dear child, what are you doing here? According to
the Champion of Violence, you don’t belong in the main event.”
“O~h…” The poor ghost frowns.
Leaning forward on the cane, Nathaniel pats the boy on the head. Somehow, his hand doesn’t phase through him. “Worry not. I believe you earned your spot. You and…”
From the right side of the stage, a rotund yet handsome man steps forward. He brings with him a big smiley face graphic tee, hot dogs, and, for some reason, a toilet.
“I am the funny fat fuck who can fly!”
Allen Chaney bellows.
Oh, there’s also a kitty plushie that resembles Bill on his right shoulder.
Ernie shrieks and continues to hide behind Nathaniel.
Wraith glowers at
Allen. The Lord of Charisma sighs and shakes his head.
“Yes… Mr. Chaney. The Comedian, or at least that’s what you claim to be.”
“Look, I’ve dealt with that sh*t,”
Allen glares. Even he’s been censored Scott Pilgrim style. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m not funny. Tell me I’m fat. Tell me I’m ugly.”
“Um…”
Ernie pokes his head out from behind Nathaniel. “You’re… uh…”
“I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED!”
Allen suddenly bursts out.
“GAH!”
Ernie goes back to hiding.
“B~o~o~o~o~o…”
Wraith does not hide his feelings.
Nathaniel massages his temples with one hand. “I swear this is a bloody circus…”
“Did y’all say…”From the left side of the stage, a woman with Best Hair by Denzel Porter emerges! In her right hand is a half-empty bottle of Rain vodka. In her left hand is a comically giant mallet.
“...circus?!”
Vhodka Black shakes the bottle with a grin.
Ernie, Wraith, and Allen are terrified.
Nathaniel audibly groans. “We’re losing focus, people. This is supposed to be a promotional video to showcase the main event of Victory VIII.”
“There’s NOTHING professional about this, puddin’.”
Vhodka grins.
“...No. I am not your
Mistah J. Consult with your husband about that one.” Nathaniel taps his cane on the stage twice. “F*ck it. Where’s the bloody script?”
Suddenly, the lights go out, leaving the five in the dark for a moment.
There’s no script, baby!”When the lights come back on, for some reason, the curtains are closed. The five are standing at the forefront on the stage. Nathaniel turns towards the closed curtains. Right on cue, another man with golden locks like a lion emerges through them, posing in a sparkly jumpsuit.
“There’s only me, myself. . . and I!” Naturally,
Chris Page makes his appearance.
Nathaniel is clearly not impressed. “Right. Now, all we need is the champion, himself…”
The camera slightly zooms out to reveal
Damian Ayla sitting in the front row in all of his gloomy, pretentious glory.
Wait, when did he get there?“All of you suck.”
Damian groans.
Nathaniel’s opponents all turn towards him and they LEAP OFF THE STAGE AFTER HIM. The Eldest Dixon blankly stares at them and sighs.
“Bloody Hell… Cut, cut!”
Chapter III: End
