Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2016 0:16:44 GMT -5
::Off Camera::
Seeing his number on the screen, I take a deep breath. I knew if I didn't answer he would fly out here. Maybe I could convince him everything was fine and I could dismiss him quickly. That, of course, is called wishful thinking.
“G’day LJ.”
He chuckles. Even in two years, there was no change in the deep baritone in his voice. It was like It hadn't been years. Yesterday's texts messages he had sent had warned me of Dorian’s empty threat to be at my show.
“Haven't lost the heritage, I'm glad.”
It's my turn to laugh and admittedly it felt good to do it. It wasn't even me losing the title. Losing is a part of life on any aspect. Lose a match, lose your keys, loose a loved one...
My laughter stops. The last time LJ and I spoke was when I had left the Daughterty estate. 5 days after my mother had lost her battle with breast cancer. 3 days after LJ had told me that I needed to grow up.
“I refuse to be assimilated by the American Dream.”
More shared chuckles and for a moment, it's as though nothing had transpired between us and then the awkward silence and the start of the lecture I had been anticipating.
“Emmie, what's going on with you? Please just talk to me and let me in. Don't you think two years of silence is enough punishment?”
I'm taken aback. His voice wavers, even if it was just for a moment. It was in that moment that I truly knew he regretted the words that had driven me away, but in the same respect it had been those words that had forced me to change. Provided me with the perspective to see how far I had fallen and it suddenly dawned on me why he was so adamant about speaking to me. He was afraid Dark Emma was just as bad as Mean Girl Emma.
My big dark secret. The one I was ashamed to make public. I was, what I was currently fighting in IPW. When I stood across from Kaylee Kassie in that ring, I was seeing myself from two years ago. The life I had run away from and had attempted to bury.
2 years ago...
My phone was my lifeline. To my friends, to my ‘fans’ to the world outside and all the latest gossip. If I didn't have it in my hands or at least in close reach then a panic would set in that was akin to a mother losing her child. And even with the death of my mother, it was glued to my hand as I brushed away my tears. People would come up, offer condolences but I would barely acknowledge them, much to the anger of my brother. And it at this moment he snatched my phone from my fingers and pocketed it.
“Damnit Emmaline, show some goddamn respect!” His voice is a harsh whisper in my ear, the edge I knew to be scared of, but low enough that no one would think it other than a big brother consoling his little sister. Instead of my usual fear, though, it ignited in me a fire I never had before. I push away from him, glaring before storming off. Finding my way to the ladies room and sitting down on the toilet. My first thought is that I needed to tweet. I needed to get on my blog to complain and ridicule my brother. To be the spoiled self-entitled brat I had been since birth.
How is that for a swerve huh?
The things I hated the most now, were the things I was back in Australia.
The loss of my outlet felt like I had lost one of my senses. Or a limb. Burying my face in my hands, I begin to sob. The realization finally hitting me that I no longer had my mother. Suddenly the stall door bangs open and standing there, livid as hell is Levi.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?!”
His voice is low and mean.
“I really want to know because these last few years I have watched my beautiful, intelligent baby sister become nothing but a spiteful, ignorant child. I honestly didn't think someone could regress back into middle school mentality but yet here you are, more concerned with tweeting your ‘friends’ then the fact that we put our mother in the ground. I'm disgusted with you. Our mother was disgusted at your behaviour. Don't you think she read your little blog? Where you would tear down others for the most insignificant little details. You think because we have money because we happen to be in a better situation that it makes us better than those people? That you have any right to judge them? No Emmie, you don't and I don't even know who you are anymore.”
I'm too shell shocked to say anything and he slowly shakes his head.
“What is it going to take for you to grow up?”
And at that moment, I was foolish enough to say, “Give me my phone back.”
In a fit of anger, I had never seen before he take my phone from his pocket and proceeds to whip it at the wall above my head. I shriek as pieces of iPhone rain down on me. He then gets this look in his eye, taking a step forward, his mouth opening as if to ask me if I was hurt before that angry glare ignites in his blue eyes and he turns, slamming the outer door in the process.
It was in the next few moments it fully sunk in that he said my mother was disgusted with me. That she had died with disappointment in her baby girl. It was enough that in that moment I decided to change.
Present Day
“...I want to put the past behind us, we both did things we weren't proud of but please don't push me away again. I need you LJ.”
I hear his sigh on the other end, one that sounded like he had been holding it.
“Of course Emmie. I came here to help you. I saw you starting to spiral down that same path. You’ve let these women corrupt you. You're doing exactly what they want you to do. Don't let them dictate how you do things. Don't let them have the control.”
When I came to the States I was a different person. I changed. I tried to redeem myself while battling the stereotypes of being a tall strong woman. I fought too damn hard, Suffered too much emotional bullshit to let a bunch of Regina & Gretchen's dictate how I run my career.
I still don't believe I’m a hero. I don't believe that IPW needs a hero or a saviour. What it does need is someone to stand up and say I will not be oppressed. I will not allow these women to act like they have power.
They only have power, if I give it to them.
I have all the power now.
And I will be goddamned If I don't go down without taking someone with me.
Let the game truly begin.
Seeing his number on the screen, I take a deep breath. I knew if I didn't answer he would fly out here. Maybe I could convince him everything was fine and I could dismiss him quickly. That, of course, is called wishful thinking.
“G’day LJ.”
He chuckles. Even in two years, there was no change in the deep baritone in his voice. It was like It hadn't been years. Yesterday's texts messages he had sent had warned me of Dorian’s empty threat to be at my show.
“Haven't lost the heritage, I'm glad.”
It's my turn to laugh and admittedly it felt good to do it. It wasn't even me losing the title. Losing is a part of life on any aspect. Lose a match, lose your keys, loose a loved one...
My laughter stops. The last time LJ and I spoke was when I had left the Daughterty estate. 5 days after my mother had lost her battle with breast cancer. 3 days after LJ had told me that I needed to grow up.
“I refuse to be assimilated by the American Dream.”
More shared chuckles and for a moment, it's as though nothing had transpired between us and then the awkward silence and the start of the lecture I had been anticipating.
“Emmie, what's going on with you? Please just talk to me and let me in. Don't you think two years of silence is enough punishment?”
I'm taken aback. His voice wavers, even if it was just for a moment. It was in that moment that I truly knew he regretted the words that had driven me away, but in the same respect it had been those words that had forced me to change. Provided me with the perspective to see how far I had fallen and it suddenly dawned on me why he was so adamant about speaking to me. He was afraid Dark Emma was just as bad as Mean Girl Emma.
My big dark secret. The one I was ashamed to make public. I was, what I was currently fighting in IPW. When I stood across from Kaylee Kassie in that ring, I was seeing myself from two years ago. The life I had run away from and had attempted to bury.
2 years ago...
My phone was my lifeline. To my friends, to my ‘fans’ to the world outside and all the latest gossip. If I didn't have it in my hands or at least in close reach then a panic would set in that was akin to a mother losing her child. And even with the death of my mother, it was glued to my hand as I brushed away my tears. People would come up, offer condolences but I would barely acknowledge them, much to the anger of my brother. And it at this moment he snatched my phone from my fingers and pocketed it.
“Damnit Emmaline, show some goddamn respect!” His voice is a harsh whisper in my ear, the edge I knew to be scared of, but low enough that no one would think it other than a big brother consoling his little sister. Instead of my usual fear, though, it ignited in me a fire I never had before. I push away from him, glaring before storming off. Finding my way to the ladies room and sitting down on the toilet. My first thought is that I needed to tweet. I needed to get on my blog to complain and ridicule my brother. To be the spoiled self-entitled brat I had been since birth.
How is that for a swerve huh?
The things I hated the most now, were the things I was back in Australia.
The loss of my outlet felt like I had lost one of my senses. Or a limb. Burying my face in my hands, I begin to sob. The realization finally hitting me that I no longer had my mother. Suddenly the stall door bangs open and standing there, livid as hell is Levi.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?!”
His voice is low and mean.
“I really want to know because these last few years I have watched my beautiful, intelligent baby sister become nothing but a spiteful, ignorant child. I honestly didn't think someone could regress back into middle school mentality but yet here you are, more concerned with tweeting your ‘friends’ then the fact that we put our mother in the ground. I'm disgusted with you. Our mother was disgusted at your behaviour. Don't you think she read your little blog? Where you would tear down others for the most insignificant little details. You think because we have money because we happen to be in a better situation that it makes us better than those people? That you have any right to judge them? No Emmie, you don't and I don't even know who you are anymore.”
I'm too shell shocked to say anything and he slowly shakes his head.
“What is it going to take for you to grow up?”
And at that moment, I was foolish enough to say, “Give me my phone back.”
In a fit of anger, I had never seen before he take my phone from his pocket and proceeds to whip it at the wall above my head. I shriek as pieces of iPhone rain down on me. He then gets this look in his eye, taking a step forward, his mouth opening as if to ask me if I was hurt before that angry glare ignites in his blue eyes and he turns, slamming the outer door in the process.
It was in the next few moments it fully sunk in that he said my mother was disgusted with me. That she had died with disappointment in her baby girl. It was enough that in that moment I decided to change.
Present Day
“...I want to put the past behind us, we both did things we weren't proud of but please don't push me away again. I need you LJ.”
I hear his sigh on the other end, one that sounded like he had been holding it.
“Of course Emmie. I came here to help you. I saw you starting to spiral down that same path. You’ve let these women corrupt you. You're doing exactly what they want you to do. Don't let them dictate how you do things. Don't let them have the control.”
When I came to the States I was a different person. I changed. I tried to redeem myself while battling the stereotypes of being a tall strong woman. I fought too damn hard, Suffered too much emotional bullshit to let a bunch of Regina & Gretchen's dictate how I run my career.
I still don't believe I’m a hero. I don't believe that IPW needs a hero or a saviour. What it does need is someone to stand up and say I will not be oppressed. I will not allow these women to act like they have power.
They only have power, if I give it to them.
I have all the power now.
And I will be goddamned If I don't go down without taking someone with me.
Let the game truly begin.