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I know this isn’t just a social call. Marie isn’t like that. Time is money to the venue owner and why not? Wrestling is a hot commodity, but you have to keep on top of the wave. I wait, but I sense I’m breathing shallowly.
I look down at my watch. “Will Marie be up here soon, do you think? This little tete-a-tete is eating into my sleep time. I have a weight training session at the crack of dawn.”
It’s an excuse, of course. I hate those dawn sessions. If I was at home, I’d still be up gawking at the TV or reading some trashy novel. I only want out of this office. I don’t want to be grilled by Marie and Camie more than I already have about the Archimedes issue.
In between crunches, Ronan replies. “The doorman said Marie and Camie are dealing with an unruly drinker in the pub. Something about he’s on his twelfth vodka and the barman wants to cut him off. I doubt they’ll be long.”
I sigh. It must be a headache owning a large multipurpose venue like this.
Just then, Marie’s door swings open. “Hey, girlfriend, glad you could make it.” Camie runs to meet us and gives me a big hug.
I smile and hug her back, but not with the same enthusiasm. “Yeah, you said it was important, so I thought I better drop by before heading home.”
Marie gives me a hug, and mother and daughter take their seats. In this meeting, Marie sits in her executive office chair behind her massive desk, avoiding taking a seat in the more informal furniture grouping. That tells me this impromptu chat is strictly business.
Marie leans forward and clasps her tiny hoof hands. “I’m sure you know by now I’ve heard about McAllister’s interview invite. I wanted us all here to talk it out.”
“Figures,” Ronan mumbles under his breath.
“Look, Ronan, I get your viewpoint and, of course, Chey’s predicament. But I think you two are making the wrong decision. This kind of exclusive could put Hillbilly Cyborg and Disastra on the map, meaning years of dates and millions made. It’s my considered opinion that Chey does not need Raucous in her life anymore. And while I’m soapboxing, you’re doing Joseph a disservice, too. He’d be thrilled to help you out. Chey, just say the word, and the world is your oyster.”
I keep my head down. I can’t think clearly, looking into Marie’s beady eyes.
I know my issue with Raucous is letting everyone down. Why should Camie take a P.R. hit for Hillbilly all because of me? Her star is rising, too. She’s as driven about her career as I am with mine. The whole situation is one big mess, and I don’t have a clue how to broach it.
And that doesn’t even cover how much my dad adores Ronan. He’d probably give his right arm to represent him under the Fool’s Gold label. I’m swimming in an impossible slough.
“I appreciate your thoughts, Marie. And don’t think for a moment I haven’t considered Ronan’s and Camie’s careers in all this.” Those are all the words I can muster.
Silence rains down. I clear my throat, turn to Ronan, and try again. Somehow, I have to make people see the reality.
“Take everything my dad says with several truckloads of salt. Sure, he’d kill to represent you. But he knows he can’t afford to buy out your contract as Lawless. And that’s assuming Raucous would ever let you go, which they’ll never do.”
I bite my tongue. I fear I’ve said too much already. But Ronan needs to know. There is fantasy and then there’s reality. No use swimming in the former.
“So, you’re assuming all is a no-go by assuming I want to stay with Raucous?”
“Well, you’d be an idiot to crawl out from all those millions, right? Regardless of the rumors, HQ is unhappy with your current ticket takes.”
“Well, you’re right there. They pulled my last few shows in favor of backing some 6-part showdown with B-list tag teams. And I’ve heard through the grapevine Marty isn’t exactly singing my praises. Most probably ‘cause he’s afraid I’d up my fee at contract renewal, the weasel.”
I know Ronan is ecstatic about my dad potentially wanting to buy out his contract. I see the sparkle in his eyes. He’s not thinking big-picture. He’s thinking of freedom and a chance to play a character he wants, and I don’t have the heart to tell him my dad only seems interested in the villian role for Lawless, the very role Ronan’s trying to leave Raucous to escape. I decide to not rain on his fantasy parade anymore than I have.
No matter how much he wants to revamp Lawless’s image, no one around him seems to want to see anything change. Not my dad, not Marty, not Raucous. But I don’t want to tell him he’s stuck and crush his dreams. I don’t have the stomach for it.
Marie puts the conversation back on track. “Listen all, you girls are really making a buzz in the amateur circuit. We all expected some talk, but you're flying higher than any amateur act out there.”
“It’s true, Chey. We’re the talk of the town, media interviews or not,” Camie says with a big smile.
“Yes, and that’s swell. It really is. But you and I had our eyes wide open on this partnership. It was supposed to be a practice deal, right? Not a brand-new career. We finish our commitments and you’ll be free to go off on your own and make a permanent thing. And I can cement my Disastra moves into the Archimedes character like I always planned.”
I ball up my fists but hide them by my side. I feel I’m so close to getting Archimedes back on top. All this stuff as Disastra is just to sharpen my game and bring what I learn back to Archimedes so I can do the revamps I need. I’m only even using the character because I could get sued into the next century for working as Archimedes out of contract.
This method is a perfect temporary solution, Ticket sales fly, and I don’t betray my mother’s wish for me. Everyone ends up happy. Including me.
I inhale and go in for the last point. “And about the McAllister interview. I can’t risk showing up without my makeup and mask and face Chad. He’ll blow the lid off my cover and there goes my contract.”
I fake concern and look at my watch.
