Post by The Ace on Jan 4, 2013 19:06:39 GMT -6
Jake Conway drove away from Sunrise in his silver Porsche Carerra GT, with his wife Kathy in the passenger seat, in her lap was their youngest daughter, Domino and as they hit the highway. Jake clenched his jaw as his hands gripped the steering wheel tight as his foot pushed down on the accelator pedal, almost as if he was trying to outrun the tragedy that had struck down his youngest brother, Jason.
Kathy: Honey, slow down!
Jake wasn't listening, his heart thundered and the car roared as suddenly a bright white light from a car coming in the oppposite direction blinded him, he swerved to try and avoid it, but fate had other ideas. The car he had tried so desperately to avoid, struck the passenger side of the car and he heard Domino cry out as she flew into his lap, flung from her mother's lap by the force of the impact. He failed to catch her and Domino's head struck the driver side door, and she was limp, and bleeding.
Jake: Oh God no...please...God no...NOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Jake then looks over at Kathy, who lay slumped to the side...dead. Jake tried frantically to shake her, he unfastened his seat belt and grabbed her by the shoulders.
Jake: Kat...Kat...KAT! Please...wake up! WAKE UP! PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME! Don't....
The Ace choked the words out of Jake's throat, and stifled the sound of his tears as the streams of grief rolled down his face, silent, yet unrelenting. Jake Conway wanted to cry out. He wanted to scream out to the Heavens that nothing could take her from him...but it was all so futile. The Ace felt nothing. Jake Conway felt nothing and he doubted he would ever feel anything again. In that moment, the divide became blurred and threatened to fuse his two halves together into one wholly uncaring bastard. She was already gone. And as Jake Conway cradled the deadweight of his wife and the mother of his children in his arms, his senses still toyed with him.
He closed his eyes and he still saw the blinding light. He still heard his daughter's cries ringing in his ears, he felt his wife grow limp and ever colder in his arms, her eyes still looked at him, the love in them frozen, staring back at him with cold indifference, so unlike her, yet so like The Ace. There was a sardonic punch to the cruel fact that the Ace of Spades would finally have to bury his wife.
Jake Conway buried his face into her hair, and whilst Jake sniffed only the sweet scent of roses, The Ace smelt only blood, every bit as fresh and damp as his grief...
Jake: KAT! KAT! I'm so sorry...God forgive me, I'm......so...sorry...Kathy....Kathy...Kathy...
Jake Conway's eyes shot open as Adele brought him back to his senses. He was in still in the hospital, in the room, at his brother's bed side and it was morning.
Jake: Kathy...
He fumbled as he reached into his pocket, still disoriented from his nightmare, it seemed so very real, as he sat up in the chair and worked the crick out of his neck. He pulled out his cellphone and blinked, rubbing his eyes as he checked the screen.
Emma Calling...
He immediately clicked ignore and shoved the phone back into his pocket, as he felt his heart still racing, driven by the harrowing images of a very bad dream. Jake got up from his seat and was about to leave, about to go check on Kathy who must have popped out to get a coffee or something, until a weak voice called out to him from his brother's bed.
Jason: Jake...
Jake Conway turned away from the door and ran over qquckly to his youngest brother's bedside.
Jake: Jase! You're awake! Thank God, you okay?
Jason: It hurts like hell, but I'll live, bro...
Jason smiled and Jake returned the smile in kind.
Jason: What about Laura? Is she alright?
That question brought an abrupt halt to the smiles, and not even the practiced poker face of a seasoned gambler could hide the tragedy of the truth from Jason Conway.
Jason shook his head violently in denial as he wept openly and loudly.
Jason: NO! NO! NO! PLEASE GOD! NO! SHE CAN'T BE DEAD! She can't be....it's all like a dream, a very bad dream....
His grief stole any further words from him as he cried. Jake leant down and held his brother as he weapt, Jake kept his own tears silent, held in check by the divide that was his armour in these situations, but the nightmarish words still rang in his head as he was reminded of his dream.
Jake: I'm sorry Jason, I'm so sorry...
I thought I knew what real tragedy was. I thought I had seen it all. I thought I understood everything it was to be a stubborn little asshat, so smugly convinced he was right and the rest of the world was wrong, then I heard Andrew Jacobsen's little tirade and now I'm not sure what to believe anymore. Even after everything that's happened these last few days, I still believe that I've seen no greater tragedy than Andrew's ignorance and absolutely stubborn refusal to believe that my intentions towards his baby sister and best friend are good, pure, wholesome.
Values I thought the Boy Scout stood for. Values I thought you could get behind, appreciate and understand. Values my daughter is learning from watching you compete every week, values she believes in as she hoots and hollers at the television every time she sees you pick up a win. Oh how her little eyes light up, twinkling like stars....
"Yay Andy wins! Andy wins! Andy wins! Daddy did you see that?"
I have to grit my teeth and encourage her enthusiasm. I have to answer "Yes, Pumpkin, daddy did see...". Against every fibre of my being as The Ace, I have to believe in you Andy, for my daughter's sake. I've been lining your pockets by shelling out for your latest merchandise, the t-shirts, the caps, even the damn beach towels for the last couple of years. You wouldn't believe the amount of stuff she insisted I buy after you won the World Championship.
She's tried to make me a fan of yours Jacobsen, I've tried, I've tried to like you and even respect you for everything you've done and continue to do, I've tried to see you through her eyes Andy, the eyes of a child, the eyes of innocence...but so help me God, I can't see it. I just can't see it. Maybe because even though it shouldn't, it feels so surreal to see my daughter have another hero in her life, another man to look up to. When I won the World Heavyweight Championship, Solitaire was a little too young to appreciate it so I never got the chance for half her adulation that you did when you won it, and I doubt I ever will. She was happy when I won the National Championship, sure but it just wasn't the same.
Am I jealous? No. Am I resentful? No. I know this is a business, I know kids have their heroes and I know that as long as I'm paid and paid rather well to go out there and bust heads open and spill the blood of every moronic piddly ass with more guts than brains, I know I can never truly be her hero. I have to be the villain, I have to be the bad guy and you have to be the good guy. Together we will act out a play in the theatre of tragedy and the field of dreams the age old story of good versus evil, all to see the plump little face of my precious little cherub light up and make every damn day feel like Christmas day.
Of course the real tragedy in all of this is that while you are a surrogate for her cheers and affections, she does not know you as I know you Andrew. She does not know the sad, lonely, bitter and twisted cynic that you've become lately, and she does not know because she is much too young to understand. You hide it well from a six year old, but from this thirty-nine year old, not so much.
How sad it will be when I have to force my daughter to grow up way before her time and show her that the man she idolizes is nothing but a cynical old fool stuck in his own beliefs that bad people cannot do good things without a heinous plot involved....just like daddy? You insist on knowing me so well, you tell me that you only have one gear proudly almost as if your name was Charlie Sheen, you think I can't be completely honest because I choose to keep my private and my public life separate? What would you have me do Jacobsen? Fling open my doors to all of the reporters who are just looking for a story and to turn my family's tragedy into some kind of media circus so that they can twist the facts into a headline grabbing story?
The Curse of the National Championship Strikes Again.
As lame as it might sound to you or I, the reporters would have a field day associating my family's tragedy with the death of Cari Cross in 2010, both occured leading up to defining matches for the Championship and that's the only link an unscrupulous little bint like Monica Fuentes needs to turn me into the biggest laughing stock since dear old Andrea Jacobsen was given a senior citizen pass to ride on the Steve Awesome express train to ecstacy.
If I allowed that to happen, I'd only be a couple of sensationalised statements away from being painted as the victim of karma, getting my just desserts for making a mockery out of the death of Cari Cross a few months ago. Try as you might to escape the truth, but eventually it will catch up with you, and right now Andrew, God's honest truth is looking straight at you, hunting you, begging you, pleading with you not to make me do it. Don't make me do it Andy, don't let your belief of who I am leave me with no choice but to steal away my daughter's belief in who you are. This match is not worth it. This title is not worth it.
Please Andrew, please let my daughter continue to believe in the purity of her hero, if only for a few more years. Let her still believe in Santa Claus. Let her still believe in the Tooth Fairy. Let her still believe in Andrew Jacobsen. Let her still believe you are the man who fulfills dreams and not the man who begrudges others for having them.
Don't begrudge your little sister Callie because I helped her realise her dream and gave her a job. Don't begrudge your best friend Emma because I helped her get back on the road to fulfilling her dreams of being accepted and even longed for as a damned attractive and very sexy woman. Don't begrudge me for giving the two most important women in your life the confidence to live their dreams.
That's not who you are. Is it? You're not that petty. Are you? How can you still doubt me and my intentions after all I have done for you and your family. I am the bringer of dreams. I have fulfilled the dreams of your little sister Callie, I have fulfilled the dreams of your best friend Emma and now I stand on the brink of fulfilling your triple crown dream Andrew, and together we can fulfill my baby's dream of seeing her two favourite wrestlers compete one on one for a Championship in a good, clean fight. But we both know that come Sunday night, of all the dreams we have, only a handful will actually come true.
So often it is a sad fact of life that for every dream realised, another is shattered. I don't want to destroy my daughter's dreams, I want her to be able to see the whole match and to see it live without having her Auntie Tiffany on standby to cover her eyes every time daddy is poised to deliver an owwie...it is the least I can do to lift her spirits in these dark times of tragedy. Solitaire needs a reason to cheer, and she will cheer regardless of who wins, but she will cheer even louder if she sees that we can still shake hands after the match whatever happens.
Most people who face me will tell you that such a finish is a pipe dream against a man like me, that my ego is much too big, but Andrew you know I have always done things for the right price, and I'll tell you now a couple of things you think I've always been above admitting as both The Ace and Jake Conway...but right here, right now, the veil is dropped as we both admit...
Firstly, there is not a price in the world I wouldn't pay to see my daughters happy. Secondly there is not a woman on this earth that I love more than Kathleen Conway.
The Ace clears his throat and the veil is restored.
Why am I willing to shake your hand even if you beat me on Sunday? The answer is simple my friend, I have spent enough time already agonizing, mourning and grieving over a devastating loss this week. Suddenly the prospect of being potentially fifteen pounds lighter after Sunday seems all so inconsequential and all so damn trivial. It doesn't even compare...
Some wars are worth waging.
For others, life is too short.[/b]
Jake Conway emerges from the hospital room, just as a delivery of flowers arrives for the Conways, Jake doesn't even bother to question the delivery man and side steps him with a simple smile as he enters Jason's room.
Jake spots his wife coming down the corridor carrying two cups of coffee towards him, but he cuts her off as she arrives, he takes both cups and hands them to a passing nurse who is rather confused as she stands there with the cups watching Jake scoop up Kathy into his arms and lift her off her feet as he twirls her a full three-sixty, arms locked around her waist as she squeals and then giggles and the two lock lips and share a lengthy and passionate kiss.
As he breaks both of them laugh rather breathlessly, but Jake still has his arms around her waist and she notices a deliberate insistence not to let her go. Rather than resist it, she puts her arms around his neck and melts into his embrace.
Kathy: Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?
Jake: Not that I need a reason, but I just realised what a nightmare my life would be without you...
Even the bystanding nurse felt her heart flutter at those words.
Kathy: Awwww, babe, I feel the same about you. As morbid as it is to think about, I want you to promise me that if anything ever happens to me, you will be brave enough to pull the plug. I don't want to live like a vegetable...
Jake: Neither do I. Nobody wants to live like Alex Jones, deep down not even Alex Jones...
Kathy: I'm serious.
Jake: So am I. I know how these things can all get us thinking about our own mortality...but how about we change the subject?
Kathy nods, stepping only briefly away from his embrace as she take the cups off the nurse with a nod and passes one along to her husband..
Kathy: How's Jason?
Jake: He's awake, he just requested some time alone...
Kathy: So you told him.
Jake solemnly nods as he sips his coffee.
Kathy: How about we call home, let them know Jason is okay and that they can stop by?
Jake reaches for his phone and as he does so Kathy's rings in his other jean pocket, without looking at the caller ID he passes it along to Kathy who answers it.
Kathy: Hello. Emma?
Jake raises an eyebrow at this, but shrugs it off as he answers his own phone.
Jake: Hi Mom. Great news. Jason's awake. You should come see him. Bring the kids too, I miss them....
Kathy: Honey, slow down!
Jake wasn't listening, his heart thundered and the car roared as suddenly a bright white light from a car coming in the oppposite direction blinded him, he swerved to try and avoid it, but fate had other ideas. The car he had tried so desperately to avoid, struck the passenger side of the car and he heard Domino cry out as she flew into his lap, flung from her mother's lap by the force of the impact. He failed to catch her and Domino's head struck the driver side door, and she was limp, and bleeding.
Jake: Oh God no...please...God no...NOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Jake then looks over at Kathy, who lay slumped to the side...dead. Jake tried frantically to shake her, he unfastened his seat belt and grabbed her by the shoulders.
Jake: Kat...Kat...KAT! Please...wake up! WAKE UP! PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME! Don't....
The Ace choked the words out of Jake's throat, and stifled the sound of his tears as the streams of grief rolled down his face, silent, yet unrelenting. Jake Conway wanted to cry out. He wanted to scream out to the Heavens that nothing could take her from him...but it was all so futile. The Ace felt nothing. Jake Conway felt nothing and he doubted he would ever feel anything again. In that moment, the divide became blurred and threatened to fuse his two halves together into one wholly uncaring bastard. She was already gone. And as Jake Conway cradled the deadweight of his wife and the mother of his children in his arms, his senses still toyed with him.
He closed his eyes and he still saw the blinding light. He still heard his daughter's cries ringing in his ears, he felt his wife grow limp and ever colder in his arms, her eyes still looked at him, the love in them frozen, staring back at him with cold indifference, so unlike her, yet so like The Ace. There was a sardonic punch to the cruel fact that the Ace of Spades would finally have to bury his wife.
Jake Conway buried his face into her hair, and whilst Jake sniffed only the sweet scent of roses, The Ace smelt only blood, every bit as fresh and damp as his grief...
Jake: KAT! KAT! I'm so sorry...God forgive me, I'm......so...sorry...Kathy....Kathy...Kathy...
Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together...
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together...
Jake Conway's eyes shot open as Adele brought him back to his senses. He was in still in the hospital, in the room, at his brother's bed side and it was morning.
Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center
Las Vegas, Nevada
January 3rd, 2013
8:16 AM
Las Vegas, Nevada
January 3rd, 2013
8:16 AM
Jake: Kathy...
He fumbled as he reached into his pocket, still disoriented from his nightmare, it seemed so very real, as he sat up in the chair and worked the crick out of his neck. He pulled out his cellphone and blinked, rubbing his eyes as he checked the screen.
Emma Calling...
He immediately clicked ignore and shoved the phone back into his pocket, as he felt his heart still racing, driven by the harrowing images of a very bad dream. Jake got up from his seat and was about to leave, about to go check on Kathy who must have popped out to get a coffee or something, until a weak voice called out to him from his brother's bed.
Jason: Jake...
Jake Conway turned away from the door and ran over qquckly to his youngest brother's bedside.
Jake: Jase! You're awake! Thank God, you okay?
Jason: It hurts like hell, but I'll live, bro...
Jason smiled and Jake returned the smile in kind.
Jason: What about Laura? Is she alright?
That question brought an abrupt halt to the smiles, and not even the practiced poker face of a seasoned gambler could hide the tragedy of the truth from Jason Conway.
Jason shook his head violently in denial as he wept openly and loudly.
Jason: NO! NO! NO! PLEASE GOD! NO! SHE CAN'T BE DEAD! She can't be....it's all like a dream, a very bad dream....
His grief stole any further words from him as he cried. Jake leant down and held his brother as he weapt, Jake kept his own tears silent, held in check by the divide that was his armour in these situations, but the nightmarish words still rang in his head as he was reminded of his dream.
Jake: I'm sorry Jason, I'm so sorry...
I thought I knew what real tragedy was. I thought I had seen it all. I thought I understood everything it was to be a stubborn little asshat, so smugly convinced he was right and the rest of the world was wrong, then I heard Andrew Jacobsen's little tirade and now I'm not sure what to believe anymore. Even after everything that's happened these last few days, I still believe that I've seen no greater tragedy than Andrew's ignorance and absolutely stubborn refusal to believe that my intentions towards his baby sister and best friend are good, pure, wholesome.
Values I thought the Boy Scout stood for. Values I thought you could get behind, appreciate and understand. Values my daughter is learning from watching you compete every week, values she believes in as she hoots and hollers at the television every time she sees you pick up a win. Oh how her little eyes light up, twinkling like stars....
"Yay Andy wins! Andy wins! Andy wins! Daddy did you see that?"
I have to grit my teeth and encourage her enthusiasm. I have to answer "Yes, Pumpkin, daddy did see...". Against every fibre of my being as The Ace, I have to believe in you Andy, for my daughter's sake. I've been lining your pockets by shelling out for your latest merchandise, the t-shirts, the caps, even the damn beach towels for the last couple of years. You wouldn't believe the amount of stuff she insisted I buy after you won the World Championship.
She's tried to make me a fan of yours Jacobsen, I've tried, I've tried to like you and even respect you for everything you've done and continue to do, I've tried to see you through her eyes Andy, the eyes of a child, the eyes of innocence...but so help me God, I can't see it. I just can't see it. Maybe because even though it shouldn't, it feels so surreal to see my daughter have another hero in her life, another man to look up to. When I won the World Heavyweight Championship, Solitaire was a little too young to appreciate it so I never got the chance for half her adulation that you did when you won it, and I doubt I ever will. She was happy when I won the National Championship, sure but it just wasn't the same.
Am I jealous? No. Am I resentful? No. I know this is a business, I know kids have their heroes and I know that as long as I'm paid and paid rather well to go out there and bust heads open and spill the blood of every moronic piddly ass with more guts than brains, I know I can never truly be her hero. I have to be the villain, I have to be the bad guy and you have to be the good guy. Together we will act out a play in the theatre of tragedy and the field of dreams the age old story of good versus evil, all to see the plump little face of my precious little cherub light up and make every damn day feel like Christmas day.
Of course the real tragedy in all of this is that while you are a surrogate for her cheers and affections, she does not know you as I know you Andrew. She does not know the sad, lonely, bitter and twisted cynic that you've become lately, and she does not know because she is much too young to understand. You hide it well from a six year old, but from this thirty-nine year old, not so much.
How sad it will be when I have to force my daughter to grow up way before her time and show her that the man she idolizes is nothing but a cynical old fool stuck in his own beliefs that bad people cannot do good things without a heinous plot involved....just like daddy? You insist on knowing me so well, you tell me that you only have one gear proudly almost as if your name was Charlie Sheen, you think I can't be completely honest because I choose to keep my private and my public life separate? What would you have me do Jacobsen? Fling open my doors to all of the reporters who are just looking for a story and to turn my family's tragedy into some kind of media circus so that they can twist the facts into a headline grabbing story?
The Curse of the National Championship Strikes Again.
As lame as it might sound to you or I, the reporters would have a field day associating my family's tragedy with the death of Cari Cross in 2010, both occured leading up to defining matches for the Championship and that's the only link an unscrupulous little bint like Monica Fuentes needs to turn me into the biggest laughing stock since dear old Andrea Jacobsen was given a senior citizen pass to ride on the Steve Awesome express train to ecstacy.
If I allowed that to happen, I'd only be a couple of sensationalised statements away from being painted as the victim of karma, getting my just desserts for making a mockery out of the death of Cari Cross a few months ago. Try as you might to escape the truth, but eventually it will catch up with you, and right now Andrew, God's honest truth is looking straight at you, hunting you, begging you, pleading with you not to make me do it. Don't make me do it Andy, don't let your belief of who I am leave me with no choice but to steal away my daughter's belief in who you are. This match is not worth it. This title is not worth it.
Please Andrew, please let my daughter continue to believe in the purity of her hero, if only for a few more years. Let her still believe in Santa Claus. Let her still believe in the Tooth Fairy. Let her still believe in Andrew Jacobsen. Let her still believe you are the man who fulfills dreams and not the man who begrudges others for having them.
Don't begrudge your little sister Callie because I helped her realise her dream and gave her a job. Don't begrudge your best friend Emma because I helped her get back on the road to fulfilling her dreams of being accepted and even longed for as a damned attractive and very sexy woman. Don't begrudge me for giving the two most important women in your life the confidence to live their dreams.
That's not who you are. Is it? You're not that petty. Are you? How can you still doubt me and my intentions after all I have done for you and your family. I am the bringer of dreams. I have fulfilled the dreams of your little sister Callie, I have fulfilled the dreams of your best friend Emma and now I stand on the brink of fulfilling your triple crown dream Andrew, and together we can fulfill my baby's dream of seeing her two favourite wrestlers compete one on one for a Championship in a good, clean fight. But we both know that come Sunday night, of all the dreams we have, only a handful will actually come true.
So often it is a sad fact of life that for every dream realised, another is shattered. I don't want to destroy my daughter's dreams, I want her to be able to see the whole match and to see it live without having her Auntie Tiffany on standby to cover her eyes every time daddy is poised to deliver an owwie...it is the least I can do to lift her spirits in these dark times of tragedy. Solitaire needs a reason to cheer, and she will cheer regardless of who wins, but she will cheer even louder if she sees that we can still shake hands after the match whatever happens.
Most people who face me will tell you that such a finish is a pipe dream against a man like me, that my ego is much too big, but Andrew you know I have always done things for the right price, and I'll tell you now a couple of things you think I've always been above admitting as both The Ace and Jake Conway...but right here, right now, the veil is dropped as we both admit...
Firstly, there is not a price in the world I wouldn't pay to see my daughters happy. Secondly there is not a woman on this earth that I love more than Kathleen Conway.
The Ace clears his throat and the veil is restored.
Why am I willing to shake your hand even if you beat me on Sunday? The answer is simple my friend, I have spent enough time already agonizing, mourning and grieving over a devastating loss this week. Suddenly the prospect of being potentially fifteen pounds lighter after Sunday seems all so inconsequential and all so damn trivial. It doesn't even compare...
Some wars are worth waging.
For others, life is too short.[/b]
Jake Conway emerges from the hospital room, just as a delivery of flowers arrives for the Conways, Jake doesn't even bother to question the delivery man and side steps him with a simple smile as he enters Jason's room.
Jake spots his wife coming down the corridor carrying two cups of coffee towards him, but he cuts her off as she arrives, he takes both cups and hands them to a passing nurse who is rather confused as she stands there with the cups watching Jake scoop up Kathy into his arms and lift her off her feet as he twirls her a full three-sixty, arms locked around her waist as she squeals and then giggles and the two lock lips and share a lengthy and passionate kiss.
As he breaks both of them laugh rather breathlessly, but Jake still has his arms around her waist and she notices a deliberate insistence not to let her go. Rather than resist it, she puts her arms around his neck and melts into his embrace.
Kathy: Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?
Jake: Not that I need a reason, but I just realised what a nightmare my life would be without you...
Even the bystanding nurse felt her heart flutter at those words.
Kathy: Awwww, babe, I feel the same about you. As morbid as it is to think about, I want you to promise me that if anything ever happens to me, you will be brave enough to pull the plug. I don't want to live like a vegetable...
Jake: Neither do I. Nobody wants to live like Alex Jones, deep down not even Alex Jones...
Kathy: I'm serious.
Jake: So am I. I know how these things can all get us thinking about our own mortality...but how about we change the subject?
Kathy nods, stepping only briefly away from his embrace as she take the cups off the nurse with a nod and passes one along to her husband..
Kathy: How's Jason?
Jake: He's awake, he just requested some time alone...
Kathy: So you told him.
Jake solemnly nods as he sips his coffee.
Kathy: How about we call home, let them know Jason is okay and that they can stop by?
Jake reaches for his phone and as he does so Kathy's rings in his other jean pocket, without looking at the caller ID he passes it along to Kathy who answers it.
Kathy: Hello. Emma?
Jake raises an eyebrow at this, but shrugs it off as he answers his own phone.
Jake: Hi Mom. Great news. Jason's awake. You should come see him. Bring the kids too, I miss them....
In Loving Memory of Laura Smith
March 29th 1987-January 1st 2013
March 29th 1987-January 1st 2013
