Post by Deleted on Oct 17, 2021 22:59:44 GMT -5
- Prologue -
When someone says "New York" most people think of the big city.
They usually don't think about farming.
Years ago a young lady by the name of Amber Caldwell grew up on a farm in Upstate New York. It was her parents' farm; not spectacular by any means just a few hundred acres and plenty of privacy to go around.
The Caldwells were simple people of simple means. They had no desire to expand their business. Their only goal in life was to keep the farm running well enough so that the family could sustain themselves. After all, the land that their small, ranch-style home sat on was first purchased by Amber's great grandfather, sometime back in the late 1700's as far as they could decipher from centuries-old records.
Despite their best efforts, the Caldwells could only muster having a single child. But Amber's father was still proud, if not for the very least, that he could have one, potentially last generation to pass the family farm down to.
Keeping in tradition to keep to themselves, Amber didn't leave the property much with the exception of going to school. During the summers her Father would try to teach her the ins and outs of running the farm but it was never something his daughter showed much interest in. She learned enough, but basically in the sense that she could help out whenever she was needed. In her downtime, which typically was quite considerable, she liked to draw.
From a young age Amber showed a certain proclivity towards artistic expression. In no time at all the drab walls of the farmhouse had become decorated with hand drawn portraits and landscapes. While her father would have loved to see Amber be more excited for tending fields and caring for livestock, he still supported her "doodling" the best he could whenever he could.
As the years went by Amber's parents grew older and slightly less able when she had reached her teenage years. By the time she had graduated high school, Amber's Father was hiring on a few family friends as help. But it became clear that even the cheapest labor was too much of a financial burden on the farm. Amber wanted to go to college, more specifically an art school, but the family savings had been completely depleted in the span of a single season.
"Dad, I want to ask you something."
Her Father, a man of few words, sat in his chair with his focus on the television screen. "Ok."
Amber gathered up all of the courage she could muster. "Dad... I want to go down to the city. I think I might've found a place to work there."
Without missing a beat, the bald-headed man never once batted a single eyelash at his daughter. He simply responded with: "Ok."
"But if it's legit and I do get the job... I'm going to have to... you know... move out."
"Ok."
Amber sighed. She knew better than to approach him while Star Trek was on.
"Dad, It's a big deal and I-"
"Oh, your Father knows it's a big deal, honey."
Amber's Mom entered from the kitchen. She had a fully fixed plate of a home cooked meal she made from scratch just to serve him. "You wouldn't ask if it wasn't something you wanted, right?"
Am nodded her head. A lot of thought went into this decision. She was pretty sure that she wasn't taking anything lightly.
"Mom, it could be my big break. You know how I was saying that nobody would hire an artist on their portfolio alone?"
"Yeah?"
"Well I found someone," Am said rather excitedly, "Or like, a friend of my friend is the sister of a girl who works there."
"Oh really?" Her mother replied as she placed the plate down in front of Am's father. "What kind of work is it? Painting? Design?"
"Tattooing, Mom." Am replied with a smile on her face. "There's a shop down in the Bronx that just opened up not too long ago. My friend says her friend's sister got a job there by showing her some of her drawings."
"Oh now, honey... that sounds lovely." Am's Mom didn't bat an eyelash either. "You truly are one of the most gifted artists I have ever seen. I'm sure if you go down there and show them your work that they'll have no choice but to hire you."
"I know, right?" Am smiled as she looked over at her Father again, who was stuffing mashed potatoes into his face. "If it's true what they say... then I'll finally have my first real job."
"Now honey," Am's Mom said as she pulled her into a hug. "Working on the farm is a real job. But I understand that you've never much cared for it. I just want you to know that your Father and I support you in whatever you choose to do."
"Oh, I know Mom."
The two hugged.
"So, did your friend tell you anything else about this place? Do you even know where you're going to be going when you go for the job interview?"
"Oh Mom, I don't have an interview," Am replied. "Well, not yet anyway. But I figured I'd pack up some of my best pieces and head on down there... and see what happens I guess."
"Do you even know where it is?"
"Not really, no." Am shrugged. "But I do know the name of the place. It's called 'The Paper Street Tattoo Company'... I could probably just type it in my phone to get the address."
"Oh, okay dear." Am's Mom replied. "Well, why don't you fix yourself a plate and we can sit and talk about it some more?"
"I will, Mom," she said with a smile. But before she left for the kitchen, she turned to her Father once more. "Speaking of, do you mind if I borrow the car? I promise I'll be careful with it."
Her father swallowed the bite of food he had in his mouth. He simply replied "Ok," as he turned up the volume on the television set.
::: 6/10 Studios Presents :::
MML.2021.020 - What Else is New?
The house hadn't changed much since her parents died.
It had grown cold, and quiet. The silence was deafening.
There weren't any animals to tend to anymore. No farmland waiting to be plowed. The Upstate lake-effect breeze would simply roll over the tall grass making a faint whistling sound as it pushed into the side of the house.
Amber tossed her keys down on the end table set up in the entryway. She tossed the bills down, too, but was more careful that they landed on-top of the stack of bills that had already been there for some time. The collection was growing faster than she could ever make it disappear.
If things kept going this way, she'd have no choice but to sell the house. It was no good to live somewhere without heat or electricity. If the power was to be shut off, she'd have no running water as well.
Plus there were medical bills that were still being ignored from her parent's final days. The cost of the hospitalizations made her wonder if she'd break even if she decided to sell the property anyway. There were no guarantees that she'd ever make it out of debt for the rest of her life.
But this was only the things on the back of her mind right now. As hard as she tried to reason with her old boss, it seemed as if she was going to lose her, too. This time, however, it wasn't going to be from old age and poor health. It would simply be because Magdalena Lockheart was too stubborn to see the truth in what she was doing.
Maggie was on top of the professional wrestling world right now.
But she was killing herself.
Amber sighed as she plotted her way towards the kitchen. It was the same old refrigerator that her mother used to keep the ingredients for all of the meals she made from scratch. Now it barely had a few bottles of water and out-of-date condiments.
She plopped down in her father's chair and placed her head in her hands. There was no use anymore, she thought. It was time to let the past be the past. She had regretted ever leaving her parents house in the first place. She wondered how different things would have been if she would have learned how to run the farm instead of simply sitting on it.
Of course, with Maggie's injury, and the pandemic, Paper Street was out of business indefinitely. Nadette Fischer took the first flight she could back to Germany and... no one's heard a word from her since she left.
No other tattoo parlors in the entire New York area were willing to take on new artists for all of last year, and for the first half of this one as well. Even when something did open up, the position already had a line of artists who had already applied for it. Many times Amber saw her former coworkers desperately interviewing for the same job that she was.
Maggie was her last hope. Perhaps she could convince her to come back to New York. Maybe she didn't realize how important Paper Street was to the people who worked there. Even if their personal relationship was dead and gone, at least there were others out there who didn't need to suffer like she has any longer if Maggie would just decide to come home.
But Maggie didn't.
There was no use anymore. Amber had finally made up her mind. There were better things in the world out there waiting for her. But she'd have to sell the house and give up on the family legacy. She hated the idea of disappointing her late Dad but deep down in her heart she knew that he'd understand.
"Dad, I'm gonna have to sell the house," she muttered into the nothingness, following it up with a "Ok" in her deepest voice.
At least thinking about him still made her smile.
"I'm sorry."
But even this caused her to shed a tear.
Since it was time to move on... since the intervention, her last great hope, was now as hopeless as ever. It was time to pick up her roots and go somewhere else. Maybe West Virginia where it's cheaper. Maybe Arizona where at least it stays warm.
Am reached out for the TV remote when suddenly, her phone rang. At first she didn't recognize the number. To be honest she wasn't in the mood.
She was going to turn up the volume, just like her father did, and ignore it. But something in her gut told her to answer it anyway. In fact, she ended up being glad that she did.
"Hello?"
"Uhh, Hi, is this Miss Caldwell?"
"Speaking. Who is this?"
"Oh, this is the brain surgeon... you know... the one that you blackmailed." The man's voice said from the other end of the line. "Just in case that doesn't narrow it down enough for you, it's Theodore."
"Doctor Gordon?" Amber was shocked.
"No. Theodore," He responded in a huff. "If you're going to drag me all over God's creation, we might as well be on a first name basis."
"Hey - don't blame me for that, alright?" She said right back to him in a strong tone. "Tell your receptionist to be a little more quiet next time... and maybe I wouldn't have to force you to do your job."
"My job?" He clapped back, "May I remind you that just because Maggie is my patient doesn't mean that I'm a psychiatrist... nor do I own-slash-operate a psych ward."
"Yeah yeah, so I guess that oath you took when you first signed up means jack shit, huh?"
"The hippocratic oath, you mean?"
"Yeah, that's the one," she replied. "Didn't know it was a license to be a hypocrite."
"Hysterical." His response was as dry as a bone. "Listen, do you want to hear what I have to say or are you going to insult me until I hang up this phone?"
"Depends on what it is you have to say to me, Theodore."
For a brief moment, there was silence, finally broken with the Doctor's reassuring voice.
"I figured it out."
"Yeah?"
"I figured it out."
"Figured what out?"
"I finally figured out what Maggie's problem is."
"Pfft. A little late for that now, wouldn't you say... Theodore?"
"Look. We can still help her. But I can't do it alone."
"I wish I could count on one hand the amount of times the Developer booked me in matches with my opponents the show before a Pay-Per-View... but I know whatever the real number is I'm beginning to run out of fingers."
Maggie was in a hotel room again... once again using her phone to record herself 'shooting a promo'.
"Regardless, this one's a little special. I've teamed with Eli before. And even though Eli somehow managed to make his way into the main event of TriForce Heroes, we're going to be stuck working together to fend off The Faction regardless of how we feel."
"The truth is, there's nothing to gain for me in this multiplayer match... but there is everything for me to lose. Eli knows this. James Wilcox knows this. But Wilcox gets to send his two goons out there while he sips mimosas on the sidelines. It's Eli and I that have to put our bodies on the line. And judging by ISAAC and Drake Wilcox's track record as followers, I'm sure James has told them to go all kamikaze on the both of us... wear Eli and I down as much as they can."
"So Eli and I are facing two monsters among men who have nothing to lose, either, cause they already know they're not winning this match. While that would be, pardon the pun, big for their careers as a tag team and as a faction... it's simply not their goal. Their goal is to see James walk out of Triforce Heroes as the Final Boss champion. Any damage they can do to Eli and I is better for their cause."
"But I say fuck their cause. I don't think that it's fair, per se, but this is the professional wrestling game. Plus, life itself ain't fair. It never is. So while I'm not happy to feel like Eli Goode and I are backed into a corner on this one... what else is new? For once, Eli and I are the ones who actually have something to lose, and because of the circumstances I feel like that makes us the more desperate team in this match. We need a quick and decisive victory so that the three of us that matter can settle it out at Heroes. Eli is a good enough man to want to beat me at my best. The same can't be said for Wilcox."
"But in case the message isn't clear enough... I'm at my best when the chips are down anyway. I'm at my best late in the game when all the pain is setting in."
"So send your goons out to hurt me. But if I send them back broken, beaten, on a stretcher... I won't have myself to blame."
"Nothing in life is fair so... look at what you just made me do."
