The Cameron In The Rye
Jul 3, 2016 14:29:08 GMT -6
Spencer Adams, The Polar Phantasm, and 1 more like this
Post by Kyle Cameron on Jul 3, 2016 14:29:08 GMT -6
PROMO #5 - The Cameron In The Rye
If you really want to hear about it, then I should go back a few years. If you find any of what I'm about to talk about "weak" or "cheesy as fuck" then you can just go fuck yourselves.
So I guess I'll start from the top. I was born and raised in Laffy to two upstanding citizens. Miranda Cameron and Kyle Cameron Sr. That's right, I'm a junior, and with a dad like my pops proud to be one. My dad was an oilfield worker, and wasn't around Mom and I as either of us would like. He'd do his best to make up for it whenever he was around, taking us out to all sorts of different things. Movies, circus's at the Cajundome, family vacations, all that sorta jazz. It was great, Mom loved it, Dad got to spend time with us and be happy, everything was just...really really nice, I guess.
I remember one year my dad got all three of us this perfect spot during one of the many Mardi Gras parades around the city. He got his brother to join us, and we Barbequed, caught as many beads as we could put on our necks, and had a fun time laughing at all the drunk people passing us by. I must've been like four or so years old, but that whole day is one of the clearest memories I have of that time period. It's also probably the happiest.
Then right around the time I started kindergarten I began to notice his coughing. It was slow, but noticeable. But as the days passed they became more and more frequent, until one day when he straight up passed out on the job, they had to airlift him off the rig and take him to the hospital, where they took care of him and found out the tough news. When you're a kid like me you just couldn't comprehend just what the words "inoperable lung cancer" meant. They were just big words to you with no meaning. Both my parents tried to simplify it to terms they thought I would understand, but they just ended up confusing me even more. Watching my dad slowly just wither away and not understand why? That shit was scary, yo.
It all came to a head one day, when Mom and I were visiting him in the hospital. Mom had gone off to use thee bathroom, so it was just dad and I, alone. He looked about as weak as a man could be, if he had tried to get up and walk he would have probably fallen down and hurt himself, and he was bald as an egg. He knew he didn't have much longer left, but I don't think I did myself.
If you really want to hear about it, then I should go back a few years. If you find any of what I'm about to talk about "weak" or "cheesy as fuck" then you can just go fuck yourselves.
So I guess I'll start from the top. I was born and raised in Laffy to two upstanding citizens. Miranda Cameron and Kyle Cameron Sr. That's right, I'm a junior, and with a dad like my pops proud to be one. My dad was an oilfield worker, and wasn't around Mom and I as either of us would like. He'd do his best to make up for it whenever he was around, taking us out to all sorts of different things. Movies, circus's at the Cajundome, family vacations, all that sorta jazz. It was great, Mom loved it, Dad got to spend time with us and be happy, everything was just...really really nice, I guess.
I remember one year my dad got all three of us this perfect spot during one of the many Mardi Gras parades around the city. He got his brother to join us, and we Barbequed, caught as many beads as we could put on our necks, and had a fun time laughing at all the drunk people passing us by. I must've been like four or so years old, but that whole day is one of the clearest memories I have of that time period. It's also probably the happiest.
Then right around the time I started kindergarten I began to notice his coughing. It was slow, but noticeable. But as the days passed they became more and more frequent, until one day when he straight up passed out on the job, they had to airlift him off the rig and take him to the hospital, where they took care of him and found out the tough news. When you're a kid like me you just couldn't comprehend just what the words "inoperable lung cancer" meant. They were just big words to you with no meaning. Both my parents tried to simplify it to terms they thought I would understand, but they just ended up confusing me even more. Watching my dad slowly just wither away and not understand why? That shit was scary, yo.
It all came to a head one day, when Mom and I were visiting him in the hospital. Mom had gone off to use thee bathroom, so it was just dad and I, alone. He looked about as weak as a man could be, if he had tried to get up and walk he would have probably fallen down and hurt himself, and he was bald as an egg. He knew he didn't have much longer left, but I don't think I did myself.
Dad: You know I won't be around much longer, right?
Young Kyle: Why? Are you leaving for work again?
He laughed a little.
Dad: No Kyle, I'm not going back to work. Even if I wanted to. No, once I'm gone I'll be gone for good.
Young Kyle: You'll come back though, right?
Dad: No son...I'm afraid I won't be.
Young Kyle: But, but...but what about mom?
Dad: Your mom is a strong woman Kyle, the best damn woman I've ever met, she'll do everything she can for you. You have to be strong for her too, do you understand.
I didn't, but I didn't want to disappoint him, so I nodded my head.
Dad: Good. You're gonna be the big man at home now, and I know you'll be just fine. You just gotta be strong, you hear me?
My mom then opened the door and stepped into the room. Her eyes were a little red, but she tried her best to stay calm.
Mom: It's time to go, Kyle. Say goodbye to Dad now.
We both said our goodbyes, and as we left, I heard the final thing my father would say to me.
Dad: Make me proud, kiddo.
Then...well, I guess you can already figure out what happened after that.
Let's get back to the present. I'm at Girard Park near the ULL campus in the early morning. It's a bit "litter"-y as far as parks go, but in this area, it's still a pretty good place to chill, nevermind the fact that you could get stabbed at night or kidnapped or any of that shit if you're not careful. I'm sitting at one of the many tables placed around the park, a half finished cigarette between my fingers. Sitting beside me was one Frank Patrick Venable, here on business to get my interview for UCI.com. However, he seemed more focused on the sexy college student jogging on the trail that encircled the whole park.
FPV: God, what a piece of art she is. You ever thought of getting you a girl to go steady with or whatever you kids do these days?
I took a nice, long drag of my cig before answering.
Kyle Cameron: I don't have time for that shit, man. If I wanted to fuck I'd go looking around for chicks sure, but do the whole "boyfriend/girlfriend" routine? Not for me.
FPV: Ehh, it's probably smart for you anyways. Girlfriends and wrestling just don't mix, man. They have a sadly high chance of getting kidnapped. Just ask my boy Polar about that.
Kyle Cameron: Look man, are you gonna start asking me questions or what? I ain't got all day, there's some business I gotta take care of later today.
FPV: Right, right. I'll get right to it then.
He pulled out his phone and starting recording a new audio file.
FPV: So Kyle...dude, you got a match again Crow McMorris, our WORLD champion. Would you consider this your biggest match yet?
Kyle Cameron: If anything, this is a stepping stone for me. I knew I was destined for better shit then the TV Title. Dustin beat me, sure I'll give him that. But who's in the main event of Overload this week? ME. KYLE. CHAMPION. CAMERON. THE MAIN ATTRACTION. Dustin can have all his little Beavlievers, but I'm moving up in the world while he stays beneath me, where he belongs. Plain and simple.
FPV: Why exactly do you think you've been given this match this week Kyle? Cause I'll be honest, reading the card this match feels a little out of the blue.
Kyle Cameron: I'm sure it has something to do with Jay Price as our new GM. Dude always had an eye for talent, unlike those Spencer and Benjamin losers we had before. This a match that quite frankly should've been booked a long time ago, and it took Price's genius to see it finally happen. Plain and simple.
FPV: Now Kyle, do you think you have what it takes to best our World Champion this week?
Kyle Cameron: What the fuck do you mean "think?" I KNOW I'll beat Crow this week, I mean shit, how hard can it be to beat up what basically amountss to a homeless guy?
FPV: Uhhh....have you seen any of the guy's matches? Dude's a friggin machine.
Kyle Cameron: And you're saying Kyle Champion Cameron isn't?
FPV: Dude, you've lost EVERY match since your second week here, let's be realistic.
Kyle Cameron: What the fuck are you trying to say? You trying to say I'm not good?
FPV: Not to step on your toes or anything, but I mean...yeah.
Kyle Cameron: Wow. You got a lot of fucking nerve saying that shit. But that's alright, I'll let it slide for now. Cause once I have my hand raised in victory at Overload I'mma prove you and all those fuckin losers WRONG. ESPECIALLY THE KING OF LOSERS, CROW MCMORRIS. I bet he thinks he's the hottest shit since he's the current World Champ, and he's basically undefeated. Just imagine though. Just fuckin imagine how WILD it's gonna be when his firsst ever loss in the UCI comes at MY HANDS. MINE. People are gonna be mad, oh they'll be HELLA mad. But quite frankly I don't give a shit how mad they get, my time in this company is coming, and you can quote me on that. Crow is only the start, after I'm done with his trashbag ass I'm movin on to the rest of the roster. This little interview can serve all of them notice. Kyle Cameron's time in the sun is coming very soon, so prepare yourselves.
I felt a little vibration from my phone in my pocket. No need to look at what it was, I already had a good guess. I turned around and saw a black car parked on the road across from where we were sitting.
Kyle Cameron: Now Frank, I'd love to stick around and chat, but my Uber is here, so I gotta split and take care of that business I was talking about earlier.
FPV: But we're not done here-
Kyle Cameron: Oh trust me, we're done.
If he said anything else I didn't pay enough attention to here it, I tuned him out as I got in the car. Of course there wasn't any Uber tag anywhere to mark it, I just said that to Frank so I wouldn't have to explain to him who was driving.
Her name was Sarah Fritz, and quite frankly she's one of the few friends that I actually bother caring about from high school. She wasn't the most popular, but neither was I, and when you put two unpopular kids like us together, that makes it really easy to connect. Been friends since we met in middle school, then when we moved to high school we actually tried dating for a while. The break up was...messy, lots of hurt feelings. I told myself at the time "fuck this bitch, I hope she never speaks to me again." Now obviously when you're both in high school that makes not talking to each other al ittle impossible, and our friendship, albeit awkward, is slowly piecing back together, and as bitchy as she can be to me sometimes I still do care for her, which is MUCH more then I can say for my classmates.
Her giant sunglasses hiding her eyes, she started the car up soon as I got in, turning to see the perplexed Frank as she started driving.
Sarah Fritz: So that's the world famous FPV, eh?
Kyle Cameron: Yup, sure is.
Sarah Fritz: Has he told you look like a fucking mess lately?
Kyle Cameron: Has anyone told you you look like an off the job hooker today?
Sarah Fritz: Touche. So you're really gonna do this? Officially, I mean.
Kyle Cameron: Yup, I've already made up my mind. With being in the UCI, I just don't see how I'd manage school in the meantime. I'd rather drop out now and focus on getting my G.E.D or some shit like that.
Sarah Fritz: C'mon dude, that's not your only reason, is it? I know you too well.
She was right, it wasn't the only reason. She probably already knew in her head I was sick and tired of how everyone else treated me at that place. Students, teachers, everyone. I was never gonna say it out loud though. I didn't want to straight up admit I was that weak to her. But she was absolutely correct when she said she knew me too well, so I just stayed silent and let her figure it out.
Sarah Fritz: Have you told your mom yet?
Kyle Cameron: I'm...workin on it.
Sarah Fritz: You haven't even told her about UCI yet, haven't you?
Kyle Cameron: If you have any ideas on how to tell your mom you're now a pro wrestler I'd sure love to hear it.
Sarah Fritz: She'll find out sooner or later. It would do you a world of good to tell her now, y'know.
Kyle Cameron: I will. Trust me, I will.
A short pause followed. She checked the time on her dashboard.
Sarah Fritz: It's still a little early to be heading to school, wanna grab lunch or something?
Not too long after we're sitting at King Wok, a Chinese place in Carencro, not too far from CHS. It wasn't nearly as busy at it would probably get later towards lunch time, so we mostly had the place to ourselves. She sat across from me, eating her orange chicken, while I just kinda twirled my chopsticks around my noodles, occasionally getting some in my mouth, but mostly just playing around with them. I guess she must've noticed something was up, I was doing a terrible job of hiding my mood.
Sarah Fritz: You okay dude? You look annoyed about something.
Kyle Cameron: I am, if you must know. Some UCI shit.
Sarah Fritz: C'mon dude, I know that face. You're thinking about something deeper then that.
I didn't answer, instead I just ate more noodles.
Sarah Fritz: Something involving your dad, isn't it?
Kyle Cameron: I don't wanna talk about it. It'll sound stupid
Sarah Fritz: There's no one here except me, and you know I don't give a shit how stupid you sound.
I let out a small groan before finally opening up to someone about the shit I had been thinking about since my match was announced.
Kyle Cameron: You know about the guy I'm facing this week?
Sarah Fritz: The Crow dude? Yeah, what about him.
Kyle Cameron: Well...ever since they put the card up, and I started doing my homework on the day, everything about him just reminds me of my dad.
Sarah Fritz: How does a wrestling hobo remind you of your dad exactly?
Kyle Cameron: Well, I looked up the stuff he was doing back before UCI, his promos and whatnot. He just reminded me way too much of myself, y'know? He didn't who his dad was, everyone told him his parents were dead and all that jazz, and it bothered him, or at least I think it did.
Sarah Fritz: So you started to relate to him?
Kyle Cameron: Yeah, I did. Until it turned out his dad was there the whole time as a co-worker. Then I just started to resent him. Like...he spent his adult wondering why his parents aren't there, then he finds his dad who turns out to be the worst son of a bitch I've probably ever seen, and all of a sudden everything's hunky dory? That's a load of fuckin bullshit to me.
Sarah Fritz: Wasn't he also dead at some point?
Kyle Cameron: Yeah, he was. People like to think it was all part of some eleborate storyline or staging, and he was just hiding. I can't believe people are still so gullible about wrestling. That kayfabe nonsense has been dead for years, yet people still have that "fake mindset." No, Crow was legit dead. But through some sort of magic that probably makes sense only to ZMac they brought him back from the dead. That's why I'm so annoyed. You of all people should know why.
Sarah Fritz: I can hazard a guess.
Kyle Cameron: You remember that time we were at your place and you asked me if I could have anything in the world, regardless of whether or not it was possible? I know that was a long time ago, but do you remember what I said?
Sarah Fritz: Of course. You said you wanted your dad back.
It took me a few moments to think about what exactly I wanted to say. I wanted to find the right words to express just how I felt.
Kyle Cameron: To see this man just defy the laws of nature like that, knowing I can never bring my pops back...it hurts, you know. Watching this guy come out, the announcer billing him as "back from the dead" like it's nothing...that's a huge slap to the face in my eyes. Nevermind the fact that he's so nonchalant about it, too. Every time he mentions the fact that he died on twitter I wanna just strangle him. Trust me, if I could bring my dad back, I don't care what it would take, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But I can't. I've known that for years. Crow's entire existence just fuckin...upsets me, y'know. Crow McMorris doesn't DESERVE to be alive today.
Sarah Fritz: So what? Beating him is gonna magically make all of that better?
I had to giggle at this a little bit.
Kyle Cameron: I'm not an idiot Sarah. I know the moment I step in that ring with him he's probably gonna be the victor. I won't say it in public, I'll say I'll beat him and all that, but I know it won't be easy. That's why my goal this week isn't to beat him.
Sarah Fritz: So what's your goal then?
Kyle Cameron: Try my best to remind him what it was like to be dead.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Not a word was spoken in the whole restaurant.
Kyle Cameron: I knew it.
Sarah Fritz: Knew what?
Kyle Cameron: I knew you'd think this was stupid. I would too if I was the one hearing all of this. I shouldn't have even bothered telling you.
Sarah Fritz: No dude, I totally get it. Trust me...I understand.
She smiled at me for a moment. It was a rare thing for her to do, most of the time she just had a look of indifference, if not just outright annoyance. The only times she smiled was when she was trying to cheer me up about something. And it usually worked.
Sarah Fritz: We should probably start finishing our food and get a move on.
The halls of CHS always did look better without any students. It was probably because I hated them so much. I learned a few years ago that the best way to deal with them was to just not pay any attention to them. That got me labeled pretty quickly as antisocial, and I never did anything to change that. I had tried being friends with kids my age a long time ago, and all that did was make me realize how much kids my age suck. Seeing these halls without them was a preety great sight.
I caught glimpses of a few of my teachers as I made my way to the guidance counselor's office, none of them bothered to say hi to me at all. After knocking the door to the office, I was greeted by Mr. Mouton's face.
I caught glimpses of a few of my teachers as I made my way to the guidance counselor's office, none of them bothered to say hi to me at all. After knocking the door to the office, I was greeted by Mr. Mouton's face.
Mr. Mouton: Oh, Kyle. I wasn't expecting to see you here, shouldn't you be out enjoying your summer?
Kyle Cameron: I am. I just wanted to talk with you, if you've got the time.
Mr. Mouton: Sure, I'm a little busy but I can make time if you need me. Come in.
I stepped inside and took a seat in the chair across from his desk. He sat behind the desk, which was littered with all sorts of paperwork.
Mr. Mouton: If I'm being completely honest Kyle, I think I already know why you're here, and I hope you take a moment to reconsider.
Kyle Cameron: Sir, if I can be frank I've been reconsidering the entire past school year, and my mind's been made up for months. Nothing can change that at this point.
Mr. Mouton: I see. Well if you're as decided as you say you are, let me get the paperwork.
He pulled open his filing cabinet and looked around before finding a small stack of papers and handing them to me to look over.
Mr. Mouton: You're 17, so that means you won't be needing your parent's consent to do this. Just fill all these papers out and you'll be done.
Time passed slowly as I made my way through the stacks and stacks of paperwork. It was mind-numbing at best, but I soldiered through while Mouton continued working at his computer. Until finally he spoke up again as I was halfway done.
Mr. Mouton: Kyle, do you really think a career in pro wrestling will be a good substitute for a diploma?
Kyle Cameron: I had no idea you followed the UCI, sir.
Mr. Mouton: I don't. I just heard your name associated with it and dug around on my off hours. I've been watching the stuff you're doing up in Chicago, and quite frankly I'm not impressed.
Kyle Cameron: I'm a rookie, I'll get better the more I do it.
Mr. Mouton: I'm not talking about your in-ring talent, Kyle. I'm talking about your attitude. Every time I see you get interviewed and every time I see you screaming at people during a match. It's not a healthy thing to be doing all this, Kyle. You can go be a wrestler all you want, sure, but at least be sportsmanlike about it, please.
I stopped my writing dead in it's tracks and looked Mouton right in the eyes.
Kyle Cameron: Sportsmanlike? You think being sportsmanlike is what I should be focusing on? You know what being the good guy gets you in that industry? No respect from your peers and a steel chair to the back few weeks. It's a cutthroat business, probably the most cutthroat in the world. I can't afford to be soft.
Mr. Mouton: If respect is what you're after I can tell you right now no one has any for you. Just a brief google search and I see hundreds of forum posts talking about how much Kyle Cameron sucks.
Kyle Cameron: That's their opinion, they can keep it to themselves because I really do not give a shit what they say.
I continued filling out the paperwork, finishing up the last page and handing it to Mouton.
Mr. Mouton: This is a bad idea Kyle. Last chance to change your mind.
I didn't say a word, just handed him the papers.
Mr. Mouton: Well then, I think we're done here. I'm disappointed, I'll admit, but if you think this is the right path to take, then so be it. It's been a pleasure, Kyle.
Kyle Cameron: Thank you sir, I wish I could say the same.
I got up from my chair and made my way out the office, taking the pen I had been writing with with me. Now that that's been taken care of, my mind went right back to Crow. I started imagining just how cocky he would be when he stepped to the ring. The thought of Zmac whispering in his ear "Kill 'em Crow, it's only Kyle Cameron" just made me even angrier. Phil Brooks, that insufferable crybaby Phil Brooks ringing the bell and starting the match. I just imagined myself charging towards Crow and hitting him with a stiif clothesline, shocking the world and throwing Crow off his game, before taking to the ground and laying PUNCH after PUNCH after FUCKING PUNCH to Crow's undead fucking face. Each punch punctuated with not just my name, but my father's name.
KYLE.
CAMERON.
KYLE.
CAMERON.
KYLE.
CAMERON.
KYLE.
FUCKING.
CAMERON.
I imagined blood started to drip from Crow's face, like the night he took the plunge that should've ended his life permanently, and Phil Brooks calling for aa stop to the match due to KO. And I would look to the camera, look dead ahead into it, and say "How's that for sportsmanlike?"
Before I finally stepped outside of CHS's doors for the last time, I made a quick stop to use the restroom. There, inside the stall, I saw the usual kind of graffiti you'd find there. But the one that stood out the most to me was just a simple "fuck you" written all by it's lonesome, away from the other derogatory words and insults on the stall wall. I don't fully understand why, but in my state of mind at the moment, that one simple little "fuck you" pissed me off more then anything else. So I took out my pen and scribbled underneath it.
"Fuck you too, buddy."
KYLE.
CAMERON.
KYLE.
CAMERON.
KYLE.
CAMERON.
KYLE.
FUCKING.
CAMERON.
I imagined blood started to drip from Crow's face, like the night he took the plunge that should've ended his life permanently, and Phil Brooks calling for aa stop to the match due to KO. And I would look to the camera, look dead ahead into it, and say "How's that for sportsmanlike?"
Before I finally stepped outside of CHS's doors for the last time, I made a quick stop to use the restroom. There, inside the stall, I saw the usual kind of graffiti you'd find there. But the one that stood out the most to me was just a simple "fuck you" written all by it's lonesome, away from the other derogatory words and insults on the stall wall. I don't fully understand why, but in my state of mind at the moment, that one simple little "fuck you" pissed me off more then anything else. So I took out my pen and scribbled underneath it.
"Fuck you too, buddy."
