Deception 01 -- Equal Fuckin' Ground, Bitches
Aug 20, 2016 16:32:51 GMT
RSW Wrestling, Jace O'Brien, and 2 more like this
Post by Deleted on Aug 20, 2016 16:32:51 GMT
“Ummmmm are you like crying?”
The voice of Maisi Alexander was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard for Aiden Van’t Hoff. And for the record, the Hurley, Mississippi native was NOT crying. The movie “My All American” had absolutely NO emotional effect on him whatsoever. In fact, the very notion that someone such as Aiden would be crying over a movie where the superstar of the Texas Longhorns got fucking leg cancer and died was completely preposterous.
“My contact ripped okay,” Aiden muttered and got up off the couch. Maisi’s high-pitched, demonesque laughter followed the future RSW Absolute Champion all the way to master bedroom of the spacious, luxury condo the two had moved into a few days ago. Aiden shut himself in the adjoining bathroom and turned on the tap.
Okay.
So he had been crying. The movie was fucking sad as shit. He splashed cold water on his face and used one of the soft, initialed towels to wipe off the excess. The stupid towels had been Maisi’s idea. The one labeled “AVH” belonged to him. “MVH” belonged to her. And they were pink.
It was ridiculous.
“You don't even wear contacts!” Maisi hollered as she banged into the bedroom. She was a heartless cunt and hated by everyone other than Aiden’s parents. Of course a movie would not affect her. “You are such a puss.” She sauntered her perfect body into the bathroom and framed herself in the doorway. “Like how can I ever take you seriously as a strong and mighty professional wrestler? How will anyone in RSW see you as championship material?”
Of course, Maisi’s opinion about wrestling didn’t count. Her opinion actually didn’t count for anything, but it especially didn’t count in terms of wrestling. Aiden had triple crown dreams and whichever DeLise sibling had booked his match for Deception clearly had a similar vision for him as well. “Well Mais, I don't give a fuck what a bunch of inferior idiots think of me. My first fucking match is for the Absolute Championship so clearly someone knows my worth. Granted, the Absolute Championship isn't exactly the most prestigious title - it's the equivalent of a stupid bronze medal - but it's a start.”
It was definitely a start.
Aiden grinned at the bodacious blond bombshell who wore his ring and motioned for her to move so he could exit the bathroom. With the most dramatic and unnecessary sigh ever, Maisi finally moved out of the way. Aiden felt her wicked witch green eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as he snatched his authentic leather jacket from the back of a chair.
No vegan bullshit here.
“Uhhhhhh where you going?”
There it was. The overly demanding possessive girlfriend voice.
“Out.”
Unable to help himself, Aiden winked at Maisi as he headed out of the bedroom and down the hallway. Obviously Maisi was hot on his heels and following him. Obviously.
“I'm coming with you.”
Aiden tossed his head back and laughed. He was a bit of an asshole at times. Maisi huffed as the Van’t Hoff heir scooped his keys up from the coffee table and shoved them in the pocket of his CK slacks. “Nope.”
Another huff and this time Maisi tossed in a super evil glare. “Nope? Why can't I go? I'm your wife, FYI.”
“Ha. We are NOT married. We are engaged. Huge fucking difference, stupid.” That was one of Aiden’s pet names for Maisi. “And you can't go because bitches aren't welcome.”
Maisi pursed her perfect red lips and clenched her fists at her sides. Her blood was boiling now. “Then why does nasty Hailey always seem to show up?”
Hailey Banks. Boy was she ever the bane of Maisi Alexander’s existence. Aiden’s fault to be fair. Once upon a time he had propositioned Hailey for sex right in front of Maisi. Definitely the beer’s fault.
Not.
“Because Hailey is the exact opposite of you.”
Maisi started screaming like a psychopath. It was nothing Aiden hadn’t heard or dealt with before. “YOU WILL NEVER MAKE IT AS A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER! YOU’LL BE THE FIRST PERSON THROWN OUT OF THE RING DURING THAT TITLE MATCH!”
“Blah… blah… blah. My opponents with the exception of Hails are a group of nothings and nobodies. Pretty sure I am fucking golden as of next Thursday.”
Aiden did his best not to laugh as he walked out the door. Something hit the door and broke, but thankfully Aiden and all of his perfection were already out of harm’s way.
The destination for the night was Monarch nightclub and Aiden planned to get lit. He also planned to find a redhead or set of twins to go home with, but that was neither here nor there. Both were on his bucket list of fuckery but believe it or not, he was picky with who slept with. Unwanted pregnancies and general threats to his future fortune weren’t welcome.
Been there. Done that.
Aiden also planned to get his buddy Lord Blake to lighten up a bit. The dude was obsessed with hurting and torturing Archer this upcoming week. Aiden couldn’t relate because he didn’t give a damn about what happened to Maisi, as long as there was enough of her left to marry whenever the time to came. But as he waited for the Uber to arrive, Aiden summoned his inner hypocrite and did exactly what Lord wasn’t supposed to do tonight. He decided to talk about his match.
“You see, the thing with battle royal type matches is that it puts everyone on an equal playing field. Stats, ability, and experience don’t mean a fucking thing. It’s a cluster-fuck of people trying to beat the shit out of one another and toss each other over the top rope. Toss in a damn championship and you have an absolute recipe for disaster. It’s perfect.”
Aiden’s million dollar smirk crossed his handsome face.
“Elimination matches are about fucking surviving. It doesn’t matter if you’ve trained for ten years and are finally getting a chance to achieve your dream. Amateur experience and technical ability don’t play a factor. Submission specialists can’t depend on their bag of tricks to get them through because grounding an opponent don’t mean shit. Speed and aerial agility could help, but those who are used to doing the fancy bullshit are the ones most likely to fuck up this type of chance. Experienced wrestlers and brawlers don’t have an advantage either. Who you are, where you've been, what you've done in the past... completely irrelevant. This match at Deception is going to put everyone on equal ground.”
There wasn’t a single doubt in Aiden’s mind that he wasn’t going to walk out of The Arena a victor next Thursday.
“Equal fucking ground, bitches."
The Uber pulled up at that moment, ready to take Aiden to Lord's place. It was just the beginning for the arrogant newcomer and no doubt he would have more to say as Deception got closer.
The voice of Maisi Alexander was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard for Aiden Van’t Hoff. And for the record, the Hurley, Mississippi native was NOT crying. The movie “My All American” had absolutely NO emotional effect on him whatsoever. In fact, the very notion that someone such as Aiden would be crying over a movie where the superstar of the Texas Longhorns got fucking leg cancer and died was completely preposterous.
“My contact ripped okay,” Aiden muttered and got up off the couch. Maisi’s high-pitched, demonesque laughter followed the future RSW Absolute Champion all the way to master bedroom of the spacious, luxury condo the two had moved into a few days ago. Aiden shut himself in the adjoining bathroom and turned on the tap.
Okay.
So he had been crying. The movie was fucking sad as shit. He splashed cold water on his face and used one of the soft, initialed towels to wipe off the excess. The stupid towels had been Maisi’s idea. The one labeled “AVH” belonged to him. “MVH” belonged to her. And they were pink.
It was ridiculous.
“You don't even wear contacts!” Maisi hollered as she banged into the bedroom. She was a heartless cunt and hated by everyone other than Aiden’s parents. Of course a movie would not affect her. “You are such a puss.” She sauntered her perfect body into the bathroom and framed herself in the doorway. “Like how can I ever take you seriously as a strong and mighty professional wrestler? How will anyone in RSW see you as championship material?”
Of course, Maisi’s opinion about wrestling didn’t count. Her opinion actually didn’t count for anything, but it especially didn’t count in terms of wrestling. Aiden had triple crown dreams and whichever DeLise sibling had booked his match for Deception clearly had a similar vision for him as well. “Well Mais, I don't give a fuck what a bunch of inferior idiots think of me. My first fucking match is for the Absolute Championship so clearly someone knows my worth. Granted, the Absolute Championship isn't exactly the most prestigious title - it's the equivalent of a stupid bronze medal - but it's a start.”
It was definitely a start.
Aiden grinned at the bodacious blond bombshell who wore his ring and motioned for her to move so he could exit the bathroom. With the most dramatic and unnecessary sigh ever, Maisi finally moved out of the way. Aiden felt her wicked witch green eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as he snatched his authentic leather jacket from the back of a chair.
No vegan bullshit here.
“Uhhhhhh where you going?”
There it was. The overly demanding possessive girlfriend voice.
“Out.”
Unable to help himself, Aiden winked at Maisi as he headed out of the bedroom and down the hallway. Obviously Maisi was hot on his heels and following him. Obviously.
“I'm coming with you.”
Aiden tossed his head back and laughed. He was a bit of an asshole at times. Maisi huffed as the Van’t Hoff heir scooped his keys up from the coffee table and shoved them in the pocket of his CK slacks. “Nope.”
Another huff and this time Maisi tossed in a super evil glare. “Nope? Why can't I go? I'm your wife, FYI.”
“Ha. We are NOT married. We are engaged. Huge fucking difference, stupid.” That was one of Aiden’s pet names for Maisi. “And you can't go because bitches aren't welcome.”
Maisi pursed her perfect red lips and clenched her fists at her sides. Her blood was boiling now. “Then why does nasty Hailey always seem to show up?”
Hailey Banks. Boy was she ever the bane of Maisi Alexander’s existence. Aiden’s fault to be fair. Once upon a time he had propositioned Hailey for sex right in front of Maisi. Definitely the beer’s fault.
Not.
“Because Hailey is the exact opposite of you.”
Maisi started screaming like a psychopath. It was nothing Aiden hadn’t heard or dealt with before. “YOU WILL NEVER MAKE IT AS A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER! YOU’LL BE THE FIRST PERSON THROWN OUT OF THE RING DURING THAT TITLE MATCH!”
“Blah… blah… blah. My opponents with the exception of Hails are a group of nothings and nobodies. Pretty sure I am fucking golden as of next Thursday.”
Aiden did his best not to laugh as he walked out the door. Something hit the door and broke, but thankfully Aiden and all of his perfection were already out of harm’s way.
---
The destination for the night was Monarch nightclub and Aiden planned to get lit. He also planned to find a redhead or set of twins to go home with, but that was neither here nor there. Both were on his bucket list of fuckery but believe it or not, he was picky with who slept with. Unwanted pregnancies and general threats to his future fortune weren’t welcome.
Been there. Done that.
Aiden also planned to get his buddy Lord Blake to lighten up a bit. The dude was obsessed with hurting and torturing Archer this upcoming week. Aiden couldn’t relate because he didn’t give a damn about what happened to Maisi, as long as there was enough of her left to marry whenever the time to came. But as he waited for the Uber to arrive, Aiden summoned his inner hypocrite and did exactly what Lord wasn’t supposed to do tonight. He decided to talk about his match.
“You see, the thing with battle royal type matches is that it puts everyone on an equal playing field. Stats, ability, and experience don’t mean a fucking thing. It’s a cluster-fuck of people trying to beat the shit out of one another and toss each other over the top rope. Toss in a damn championship and you have an absolute recipe for disaster. It’s perfect.”
Aiden’s million dollar smirk crossed his handsome face.
“Elimination matches are about fucking surviving. It doesn’t matter if you’ve trained for ten years and are finally getting a chance to achieve your dream. Amateur experience and technical ability don’t play a factor. Submission specialists can’t depend on their bag of tricks to get them through because grounding an opponent don’t mean shit. Speed and aerial agility could help, but those who are used to doing the fancy bullshit are the ones most likely to fuck up this type of chance. Experienced wrestlers and brawlers don’t have an advantage either. Who you are, where you've been, what you've done in the past... completely irrelevant. This match at Deception is going to put everyone on equal ground.”
There wasn’t a single doubt in Aiden’s mind that he wasn’t going to walk out of The Arena a victor next Thursday.
“Equal fucking ground, bitches."
The Uber pulled up at that moment, ready to take Aiden to Lord's place. It was just the beginning for the arrogant newcomer and no doubt he would have more to say as Deception got closer.
