Post by Justin Kaard on Jan 15, 2016 22:35:46 GMT -5
The brothers sat in relative silence in the diner. The day was dwindling down and the dinner rush had just passed. Besides the booth Eric and Justin currently occupied only two other tables had patrons. Justin was used to being mobbed by crowds. Well not mobbed, that made him sound a lot more famous than he really was. But he was used to being recognized when he went out. Sitting in a relatively quiet restaurant was a nice change.
"Do you ever stop and think about your legacy?"
"Do you always blurt out random existential questions when I'm trying to eat?" Eric asked, annoyed.
Justin shrugged and grinned in spite of himself. It had been a wild couple of months with matches that Justin had been lucky to survive. He'd even managed to win a hand full of them. Well okay, he'd won one or two and then lost the rest.
"I'm serious," Justin said between bites, "What does legacy mean? Who defines it? Is it something tangible that we can affect or is it something that others decide after we're gone?
Eric sighed and dropped his burger to his plate, "If you're going to get philosophical after every concussion I'm moving back to Seattle. But okay, I'll humor you this time because I like watching you try to sound out the big words."
"Dick."
"Ass butt."
Justin sighed, "It's been five years since PCW came back. For five years the people here have been battling through blood, sweat, and other clichés, During that time thirteen different men and women have held the world title, some of them more than once. And some of them representing it better than others," he trailed off.
"There's the self pity. I was waiting for that," Eric prodded.
"It's not self pity, Eric," Justin defended, "at least I don't mean for it to be. But that's my legacy isn't it? I win something and I leave, I can't ever live up to what I've won. It happened with Nacho and the Tag Team Titles and then again with when I won the World Championship. I get to the top and then I choke and disappear."
"Do you think that's why you lost to Mentis?"
Justin stopped to consider, "I honestly don't know. Maybe it is, maybe I was afraid that I'd win another belt and something would happen and yet again that's the last from Justin Kaard. So yeah, maybe subconsciously I beat myself."
"So change your legacy. If you don't want to be remembered as the guy who flamed out every time he started to get something going then do something about it. Change it."
"Just like that, huh?" Justin grinned.
Eric shrugged and took another bite, "Yeah, just like that. You want to change your stars, little brother, you've gotta be the one to do it. And it starts by actually winning matches, you can start with your next one."
Justin groaned, "Don't remind me. Jesus, you want to talk about a legacy. I don't think you can even legally mention the words Legacy, Pure, Wrestling, and Class in the same sentence without talking about Tyrone Smith. He's been here since before the rebranding. Not as long as some of the guys like Grimm or Rhodes, but almost as long."
"You'd rather they stuck you in the ring with the likes of 2guys?" Eric mocked.
"Holy ancient shout out, Batman."
"What," Eric shrugged, "They were the best tag team ever."
Justin laughed despite himself, "They were something all right, but I don't know about best ever."
"Hater."
"I'm serious about Smith though, guys a legend. He's got I don't know how many titles and awards and he's still going."
Eric pushed a french fry around his plate, "Justin, repeat after me. He's just a man."
"He's just a man?" Justin asked, confused.
"Yeah, little brother. The more you talk about Crazy Boy the more I think I need to give you a moment alone. You got a bad case of hero worship going on, so I'll say it again, he's just a man."
"He's just a man," Justin agreed, "But you've got it wrong, Eric. He's not a hero and I don't idolize him. But I respect him. He may not be the biggest or the best but he's consistent. And really that's more than most people say about me. More than one person has gone into a match with Smith without respecting him and they've gotten a good look at the ceiling for their troubles."
"He's just a man," Eric insisted.
"The other one isn't."
"The other one what now?" Eric asked confused.
"Alexa Black. She's not a man."
Eric rolled his eyes, "Don't be a smart ass, it's not one of your endearing qualities."
Justin grinned again and gave a mock shudder. At least it was supposed to be a mock shudder. But after considering the path of destruction that Alexa had left in her wake his grin faded and the mock shudder soon turned into a real one.
"She's bigger than me," he said sullenly.
Eric laughed. It was a long great guffaw that got the attention of everyone left in the diner, "Everyone is bigger than you, Justin. I think the only person in PCW history you've ever had would have had a height and weight advantage on would have been Gem but even then I'm not sure. Unless they start hiring more midgets you're doomed to be the littlest wrassler."
"She's a seriously scary chick though, her and Eira both."
"What can I say, I look forward to watching you get women-handled in the least sexy way possible."
"Well you're probably going to get your incredibly creepy wish, cause I've got no doubt the she-beast of she-beastyness can and more than likely will throw me around like a ragdoll.
Eric finished the last few bites of his dinner and nodded happily, "That she will, but if you're going to let that stop you then you might as well ask them to shred that contract they gave you because you clearly don't deserve it," he rose to leave, "Dinner is on me. Consider it a final meal. Unless of course you manage to win, then you can pay me back."
Justin snorted and rolled his eyes as his brother tossed a few bills onto the table. As Justin was walking towards the door another of the diner's patrons, the last one besides the Kaard brothers also left to leave and nearly bowled Justin over as he did. He gave a half hearted apology over his shoulder as he walked out ahead of the two. Jerk.
Justin stepped into the crisp Carolina night and tossed his keys to Eric, "I'm going to walk, maybe try and clear my head a little bit. I'll see you at home."
Eric stepped into the car, "Just don't do anything stupid, I'd rather not pick you up from jail or the hospital."
"Yes, Mother," Justin rolled his eyes as he waved back at Eric.
It was overcast with a slight breeze, just cold and damp enough to make the Seattle native feel at home. As Justin meandered home he thought about what Eric had said, specifically about changing his legacy. Could it be done? Was it really that simple?
"Can I really do it?" Justin said to no one in particular.
He could. He would. He had to. He was in the middle of a particularly inspiring internal monologue, the kind that came with its own instrumental soundtrack and everything, when he was interrupted by a phone ringing in his jacket pocket. But not his phone.
Justin fished the old fashioned flip phone out of his pocket and stared at it as though it were....something strange and confusing...metaphors are hard.
He opened it, "Hello?"
"You've been kind of disappointing lately, Justin."
He didn't immediately recognize the voice, "Who is this?"
"Right, I never actually gave you my name. Well that still doesn't matter, what does is that despite my stringent objections our mutual benefactor is still interested in you, though he still doesn't think you're ready. Don't screw this up, kid."
"Screw what up, I don't even know who you are," Justin all but screamed into the phone.
"And if you continue to fail like you have been you never will."
The line went dead.
"Do you ever stop and think about your legacy?"
"Do you always blurt out random existential questions when I'm trying to eat?" Eric asked, annoyed.
Justin shrugged and grinned in spite of himself. It had been a wild couple of months with matches that Justin had been lucky to survive. He'd even managed to win a hand full of them. Well okay, he'd won one or two and then lost the rest.
"I'm serious," Justin said between bites, "What does legacy mean? Who defines it? Is it something tangible that we can affect or is it something that others decide after we're gone?
Eric sighed and dropped his burger to his plate, "If you're going to get philosophical after every concussion I'm moving back to Seattle. But okay, I'll humor you this time because I like watching you try to sound out the big words."
"Dick."
"Ass butt."
Justin sighed, "It's been five years since PCW came back. For five years the people here have been battling through blood, sweat, and other clichés, During that time thirteen different men and women have held the world title, some of them more than once. And some of them representing it better than others," he trailed off.
"There's the self pity. I was waiting for that," Eric prodded.
"It's not self pity, Eric," Justin defended, "at least I don't mean for it to be. But that's my legacy isn't it? I win something and I leave, I can't ever live up to what I've won. It happened with Nacho and the Tag Team Titles and then again with when I won the World Championship. I get to the top and then I choke and disappear."
"Do you think that's why you lost to Mentis?"
Justin stopped to consider, "I honestly don't know. Maybe it is, maybe I was afraid that I'd win another belt and something would happen and yet again that's the last from Justin Kaard. So yeah, maybe subconsciously I beat myself."
"So change your legacy. If you don't want to be remembered as the guy who flamed out every time he started to get something going then do something about it. Change it."
"Just like that, huh?" Justin grinned.
Eric shrugged and took another bite, "Yeah, just like that. You want to change your stars, little brother, you've gotta be the one to do it. And it starts by actually winning matches, you can start with your next one."
Justin groaned, "Don't remind me. Jesus, you want to talk about a legacy. I don't think you can even legally mention the words Legacy, Pure, Wrestling, and Class in the same sentence without talking about Tyrone Smith. He's been here since before the rebranding. Not as long as some of the guys like Grimm or Rhodes, but almost as long."
"You'd rather they stuck you in the ring with the likes of 2guys?" Eric mocked.
"Holy ancient shout out, Batman."
"What," Eric shrugged, "They were the best tag team ever."
Justin laughed despite himself, "They were something all right, but I don't know about best ever."
"Hater."
"I'm serious about Smith though, guys a legend. He's got I don't know how many titles and awards and he's still going."
Eric pushed a french fry around his plate, "Justin, repeat after me. He's just a man."
"He's just a man?" Justin asked, confused.
"Yeah, little brother. The more you talk about Crazy Boy the more I think I need to give you a moment alone. You got a bad case of hero worship going on, so I'll say it again, he's just a man."
"He's just a man," Justin agreed, "But you've got it wrong, Eric. He's not a hero and I don't idolize him. But I respect him. He may not be the biggest or the best but he's consistent. And really that's more than most people say about me. More than one person has gone into a match with Smith without respecting him and they've gotten a good look at the ceiling for their troubles."
"He's just a man," Eric insisted.
"The other one isn't."
"The other one what now?" Eric asked confused.
"Alexa Black. She's not a man."
Eric rolled his eyes, "Don't be a smart ass, it's not one of your endearing qualities."
Justin grinned again and gave a mock shudder. At least it was supposed to be a mock shudder. But after considering the path of destruction that Alexa had left in her wake his grin faded and the mock shudder soon turned into a real one.
"She's bigger than me," he said sullenly.
Eric laughed. It was a long great guffaw that got the attention of everyone left in the diner, "Everyone is bigger than you, Justin. I think the only person in PCW history you've ever had would have had a height and weight advantage on would have been Gem but even then I'm not sure. Unless they start hiring more midgets you're doomed to be the littlest wrassler."
"She's a seriously scary chick though, her and Eira both."
"What can I say, I look forward to watching you get women-handled in the least sexy way possible."
"Well you're probably going to get your incredibly creepy wish, cause I've got no doubt the she-beast of she-beastyness can and more than likely will throw me around like a ragdoll.
Eric finished the last few bites of his dinner and nodded happily, "That she will, but if you're going to let that stop you then you might as well ask them to shred that contract they gave you because you clearly don't deserve it," he rose to leave, "Dinner is on me. Consider it a final meal. Unless of course you manage to win, then you can pay me back."
Justin snorted and rolled his eyes as his brother tossed a few bills onto the table. As Justin was walking towards the door another of the diner's patrons, the last one besides the Kaard brothers also left to leave and nearly bowled Justin over as he did. He gave a half hearted apology over his shoulder as he walked out ahead of the two. Jerk.
Justin stepped into the crisp Carolina night and tossed his keys to Eric, "I'm going to walk, maybe try and clear my head a little bit. I'll see you at home."
Eric stepped into the car, "Just don't do anything stupid, I'd rather not pick you up from jail or the hospital."
"Yes, Mother," Justin rolled his eyes as he waved back at Eric.
It was overcast with a slight breeze, just cold and damp enough to make the Seattle native feel at home. As Justin meandered home he thought about what Eric had said, specifically about changing his legacy. Could it be done? Was it really that simple?
"Can I really do it?" Justin said to no one in particular.
He could. He would. He had to. He was in the middle of a particularly inspiring internal monologue, the kind that came with its own instrumental soundtrack and everything, when he was interrupted by a phone ringing in his jacket pocket. But not his phone.
Justin fished the old fashioned flip phone out of his pocket and stared at it as though it were....something strange and confusing...metaphors are hard.
He opened it, "Hello?"
"You've been kind of disappointing lately, Justin."
He didn't immediately recognize the voice, "Who is this?"
"Right, I never actually gave you my name. Well that still doesn't matter, what does is that despite my stringent objections our mutual benefactor is still interested in you, though he still doesn't think you're ready. Don't screw this up, kid."
"Screw what up, I don't even know who you are," Justin all but screamed into the phone.
"And if you continue to fail like you have been you never will."
The line went dead.
