"Icarus Laughed" // Chapter X

"Icarus Laughed."
Chapter X

Here is what they don’t tell you:

Icarus laughed as he fell.
Threw his head back and yelled into the winds,
arms spread wide, teeth bared to the world.

There is a bitter triumph in C
                                              R
                                                A
                                                  S
                                                   H
                                                      I
                                                       N
                                                         G

when you should be                S   O    A    R    I    N     G.

The wax scorched his skin, ran blazing trails down his back, his thighs, his ankles, his feet.
Feathers floated like prayers past his fingers, close enough to snatch back.
Death breathed burning kisses against his shoulders, where the wings joined the harness.
The sun painted everything in shades of gold.

There is a certain beauty in setting the world on fire and watching from the center of the flames.

—Fiona

The last month or so had been nothing short of a large blur.

People, places, things. He knew they happened, he knew that time had passed, but Issak Otto wouldn't be able to tell you he he'd been since Magnificence. The holidays came and went as fast as a blink of your eyes, and while the new year usually brought hope and light, Issak couldn't help but feel disheartened.

There were no calls coming in, nobody that came to visit him in his new place, and more than ever he felt alone. There had been an idea that if he made it in PWE, then that feeling would go away. That his friends come back, that the company he worked for would finally be willing to go all in with him, that he wouldn't be left out in the cold. Despite being one of the driving forces during a time when the old guard was gone, he was still given the kick as soon as the referee counted the three. The eyes of the fans had already moved on, because he never had them to begin with. So there he was, alone again.

But not from Bobby, at least he still had Bobby. Bobby would never abandon him, Bobby would never throw him out like a used paper towel. Bobby was his best friend.

Issak would always remember the night that he met Bobby.

He sat on the barstool, looking at the dark liquid in front of him. He found the barstool a little wet, the music a bit loud, and he couldn't see himself getting along with any of the people here. All the same, here he was, staring at this dark liquid in front of him. Most of his life people had told him that drinking it would give him courage, and he agreed that courage was something he needed a lot of if he wanted to move forward. Though, he was perplexed on how this dark liquid was supposed to make him feel better about himself, like some sort of potion.

Issak picked up the small glance, sniffing the mystery liquid inside. It smelled like absolute death. His eyes shifted around, hopping that nobody saw him, and at the time it looked like he got away with it. He placed the small glass in front of him again, and continued staring. Well, at least this battle with the liquid was somewhat taking his mind off of Magnificence.

“You alright, man?”

Maybe he had been caught, actually. Issak looked up to see a middle-aged man standing on the other side of the bar table. At first, Issak wasn't sure what he was being asked and blankly gazed back. He shook his head, realizing that the guy was looking down at the glass. Clearly, he'd seen Issak inspecting the mystery liquid.

“Oh! Uhhh thanks, I'm fine. I've just...I've never really drank alcohol before. I don't really know what I'm doing."

The guy on the other side of the bar table, also known as the bartender, picked up the shot glass and took a look inside. He placed it back in front of Issak, though his eyes were now wide.

“Wow, and you're starting with Hennessy?! Brave man."

Arching an eyebrow towards the bartender, "Is that not a good starter alcohol? I listen to a lot of rap music..."

At first, all the man did was stare back at him with no words. However, anyone not named Issak Otto could see that he was holding back a laugh. You get a load of interesting characters that walk into bars, but overall Issak was harmless. The bartender chose the higher road of helping out the young chap.

"How about you give it a try, and if you don't like it then I can get you something else."

Issak took a few seconds to think it over, but ultimately knew it was a pretty good offer. This man was offering to be his spirit guide. Not like his inner spirit, but like liquors and spirits. His Spirit guide, get it? Otto nodded to the man, and the turned back to the dark liquid in front of him. He took the glass, and slowly brought it to his lips. Big mistake. While some of the Hennessy made it's way into his mouth and down his throat, anyone who has taken a shot could tell you that Issak had done it much too slow. He could easily taste the alcohol, began choking and spit it all over the bar.

Gasping for air, he choked. The next thing he knew, the man from the bar was suddenly by his side, heavily pounding on his back with one hand and whipping up the liquor with a rag in the other hand.

"Alright, alright. Maybe a chaser or something next time for you, yeah?"

He chuckled, giving Issak a couple more smacks on his back until Otto stopped coughing. Issak cleared his throat, whipping the tears away from his eyes as he took a few deep breaths. The barkeep acted like it was a common occurence, whipping up the rest of the liquid and returning to the other side of the bar.

"That is not what I was expecting..."

The barkeep chuckled again, shaking his head. He looked down at the common stash the bartenders keep close to them. His eyes quickly ran over the bottles again, before turning back to Otto.

"What do you think, kid? Try something else, this time with a chaser, or you callin' it quits?"

Issak had already decided before walking through the doors, that he would turn over a new leaf. The old Issak would've called it a day and gone home. The new Issak yearned for new and exciting experiences, he wanted to do things that people didn't expect from him. He wasn't about to quit now.

"Do I do the chasing or am I the one being chased? Either way, I'm ready when you are!"

If he didn't know before, the barkeep probably had a clue as to how naive young Issak really is. He looked at Issak in disbelief for a moment, before shaking his head and moving on. The barkeep grabbed a bottle of Grey Goose, pouring a shot of it. Next, he grabbed a short glass and squirted a healthy amount of soda inside. He slid them both over to Issak.

Issak's first instinct was to pick it up and smell it, given how the last one didn't smell the greatest and ended up tasting worse. This one wasn't any better, his face contorting in a similiar way as before.

"Rubbing alcohol!"

"You're not supposed to smell it, man! You take that back and immediately drink the soda. It helps with the after taste, but you gotta be quick with it - and DON'T smell it!"

Issak took one in each hand, and as he did, the bar keep pretended he was doing the same. As he motioned like he was taking the invisible shot with the chaser, Issak mimmicked him in the same way. He got the shot down this time, but he still coughed after and made the same horrible facial expression. This time complete with exaggerated frown.

"It TASTES like rubbing alcohol too!"

Issak closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, trying his best to get the rest of the taste out of his mouth. The bar keep had held back laughter the entire time, but this time he couldn't manage. He was busting up and Issak threw a small fit. When he stopped laughing so hard, he poured a shot of Patron, cutting a lime as quick as can be. A moment later and he was snagging a saltshaker to complete the set. He pushed them all towards Issak.

"Alright. Salt, Shot, Lime. You ready?"

"Wait wait, what now?"

Otto frantically grabbed the shot and the lime, but in realizing there was also the salt shaker, he set the lime down and grabbed the salt. This only leads to him setting the shot down with his other hand and grabing the lime again, before stopping altogether and looking to the barkeep with an arched eyebrow. After another short chuckle, he motioned to Issak again.

"Watch me, do as I do..."

Once again, Issak mimmicked the bar keep, this time on how to take a proper tequila shot. He licked the salt off his hand, took the shot down and then shoved the lime in his mouth. Issak sucked hard on the lime as the bartender cheered for him, taking all the empty items from him before taking the lime last.

"Eh? Eh? How'd ya like that one?"

He had noticed that while Otto sucked on the lime for a bit longer than normal, Issak's facial expression wasn't anywhere near as horrible. The bartender tilted his head towards Issak, waiting to here his response. It took Issak a few seconds, sitting with what he was tasting and how he felt. Then, he turned towards the bartender and a smile grew on his face. Issak nodded his head, and his joy grew by the second as he realized that maybe not all alcohol tasted terrible.

"Hey...that wasn't that bad!"

"See, I knew there had to be something you'd like. Everyone has their favorite. Apparently you're a tequila guy, dangerous. You could keep taking shots like that, or switch to something like a margarita, tequila sunrise, Mexican mule, paloma...any of those pique your interest?"

The bartender grabs the bottle of Patron, at least know the kind of liquor Issak was going to have. Otto brought a hand to his chin, looking as if he was thinking over the drink that he wanted. In truth, maybe he didn't know how to repeat back the different drinks that had been described to him. Either way, the bartender didn't expect the response he got.

"Well...uh...I'll have it all."

"Have it...all?"

He dipped his head towards Issak, almost as if to tell him to be serious. Only thing, is that Issak is serious!

"Yeah! I want to make sure I try it all!"

Issak places one knee on his barstool, lifting himself up slightly and placing a fist in the air like it's the ending scene of The Breakfast Club. It's here that the bartender realizes Issak is already a couple shots in now, and is one hundred percent a lightweight seeing as how he'd never drank much prior. The barkeep decides in that moment to play along a bit.

"Alright alright, kid. How about I start with one and then I can make the others as you finish your drinks. Otherwise your ice is gonna melt and you don't want a watered down drink, do ya?"

Issak brought himself back down, his hand popping back to his chin again as if he was in deep thought.

"Oh yeah, you're right. That's a good idea, hadn't thought about that."

"That's why I'm the bartender, kid."

He decided on making him the margarita first, though he definitely included half the amount of tequila in the drink. Didn't want this kid passing out in him and puking all over the place in the middle of the day. By the time he returned with the drink, Issak had already started to turn his attitude around. He was bopping around to the music and wagging his finger in the air, bumping into people that were walking by. The bartender waved him back to his stool.

"What's your name by the way, so I can stop calling you 'kid'"

Issak wrapped his hand around the margarita glass, first taking a small sip before thrusting it in the air for a cheers.

"Oh right, I'm Issak! What's yours?"

The bartender hadn't been drinking this whole time, nor did he drink on the job. Issak, of course, wasn't aware of this. So he decided to play along like he had before, quickly squirting some water into a glass and raising it to meet Issak's. The glasses clink together.

"I'm Bobby. Nice to meet you, Issak."

Magnificence should've been my night to make it all happen.

Every time I've been on the card this season, I have shown out. I've been at every show, and I've walked away with mostly wins. Even when I didn't win, I made sure you know what PWE wrestling looks like. I put it all on the line each week, because I believed in PWE. I knew what it could be, so I dug my claws in deep and I worked hard to push myself and to push PWE. Magnificence should've been that culmination. I thought that I was supposed to be Excellence Champion.

But the truth is, I was never supposed to win.

PWE wanted their precious Damian Ayla back, and Chaney was all but checking the names on tickets to hoping he'd be there. That’s only further been solidified by what Ayla had to say that night, as well as Alan's words following our match. Don't think I haven't heard your comments, Alan. Falling to Damian's feet because there's someone else to ‘Shoulder the weight’ as you say. Then you give us this weak Miss America answer of saying nobody compares, but there's totally so many people here that you want to see succeed.

You look down on the people that have gotten this season where it is. You look down on the people that have put in the work. You look down on me. PWE looks down on me.

You can see that clear as day, the way this entire show - Victory XIX: We Can't Return This - is entirely focused on the competitors of yesteryear. Despite the fact that they've been gone, they take up the top half of the card minus Allen and Jason. All for what? Simply because they qualify as old guard. Meanwhile, I'm treading water in the third match of the night, against two debutants, as if I wasn't JUST challenging for the Excellence Championship. As if I wasn't JUST main eventing Magnificence.

I get it. I shouldn’t care what others think, I shouldn’t care what others say. I'm working on that, don't you worry. But until that time, it's not something I can simply turn off.

It's a hard pill to swallow, to know that the very company you've been giving yourself to doesn't want you to succeed. PWE doesn't want to see me succeed, well I'm just going to do what I do best, and I'm going to prove you wrong. You never wanted Issak Otto, I was just the contender that worked hard, proved you wrong, and earned my shot the old fashioned way. Now you think you can cast me aside and bring in your favorite toys to play with, but that's not going to happen.

Somewhere along the line, in the months I've spent here with this crowd, this place became my home. So I'm not bowing down to these members of the old guard, and I'm definitely not bowing out of PWE, no matter if I'm not in your little club!

PWE has made it painfully aware that I'm not the most popular pick to lead this place into something greater. I'm sure if you did some kind of survey, the public at large wouldn't even think I was the most popular pick to win this triple threat at Victory XIX. Both of my competitors seem to be popular on social media, and well known around the world. I don't know about any of that superficial stuff, the only thing I know about is wrestling. But of you may be more liked before stepping into the ring, but I can tell you, being liked doesn't win you championships.

Donatella Martinelli is even some sort of decorated social media personality. I believe it, I have such an old soul and feel so different from the young person of today. She understands marketing, and she understands how to get her name out there. But I know she's inexperienced, and she's looking to get those big matches under her belt. Her technical ability is lacking to put it nicely, and she's going to have a hard time keeping up with me in that department.

Beyond that, because she's so involved with social media, Donatella comes across as distracted. Maybe I've got her pegged all wrong, but wrestling seems to be a side gig for her. For me, it's not. Wrestling is my life.

The way I see it now, I don't get much different vibes overall from Kim Jaewoo. Sure, he came to this point in life using a very different path. His family is well known in South Korea, and that's mostly how he's made his name. As someone who has had to work hard everyday of his life to get to the point I am now, I feel a certain kind of way towards nepotism. Like Donatella, you've also made your debut last year in 2022, meaning it's most likely been less than a year that you've been in the ring.

Triple threats are tricky. All it really takes to win is making sure the third person is distracted for three small seconds, and you can steal a win. A lot of times, people don't even look at triple threat wins as a definitive win. But I'm going to make this a definitive win. You're going to know that Issak Otto deserved this win! Just like I deserve the Excellence Championship!

I'm done being walked over, we're playing our own game now. It's a new era of The Class Act.

Slowly, his eyelids would begin to move. The light coming in through the blinds had woken him, and a few seconds later his eyes were darting open. His head was pounding, the feeling felt similar to when he had been smashed in the back of the head with a sledgehammer. The light hurt his eyes, and he was unable to make anything out.

For a split second, he wondered where he was. How could he have wandered off so far, and how had he gotten here. He held a hand up to the light, blocking it out of his eyes to see a figure standing in the doorway. He looked around again, and he began to make out familiar items. His nightstand, his dresser, etc. They were just in his new room.

"Look who is finally awake."

Although Otto couldn't quite make him out just yet, he would know that voice anywhere.

"Carson! When did you get here?"

His voice was raspy, to the point that he barely recognized what he heard escape his mouth. Carson Campbell stood up and gave him a cup of water, that Issak took down happily. He surveyed his surroundings again, this time with better understanding, to see he'd been given a bowel and more blankets for comfort. Carson made sure he was in the best position possible.

"Imagine getting a call at 6pm from your good buddy Issak, only it's not your good buddy Issak, it's the bartender. Seems you passed out at the bar, what the hell were you thinking, man? And since when are you a drinker??"

Campbell raises his voice a smidge on the last couple words, which makes Issak wince with pain due to his volume. He was still nauseous beyond compare, and his bed sounded like the best place in the world.

"Ughhhh I'm dyingggggg"

Carson chuckled a bit, but rolled his eyes in the end. It reminded him of his college days, which were days he'd care not to relive. Especially the day after, spent in bed the way that Issak was now.

"What's going on, bud? Is everything alright?"

Like a big child, Issak through the blanket over his head and groaned. He just wanted to be left alone right now and couldn't feel any gratitude towards Carson for picking his drunk as up from the bar. Carson had been there many times before, so he understood. He grabbed Issak's water glass and headed for the door.

"I'll be back with more water and some Gatorade to get some electrolytes back in you. You'll be fine."

Carson exited as Issak rolled over and closed his eyes. He had never known the feeling of wanting to die until this very moment.

It was his first hangover.