Post by Leese on Oct 5, 2020 22:25:44 GMT
September 29th
Long Beach, California
Circa 5:30 PM
After Kameron had broken the news of Chelsea contacting him at training, Mark had watched him leave without putting up a fight and then turned his attention to the students. He put Chelsea to the back of his mind for those few hours but as soon as he got home, that changed. He greeted Kate and the kids and then made an excuse of having to call some label rep and disappeared upstairs.
Locking himself in his bedroom, he tried to mentally prepare himself for the conversation that was about to happen. This wasn't a situation he'd expected to find himself in and he knew he wasn't in control of it. He had to find out what was going on, though. He scrolled to the name 'Maria' in his phone and hit the call button. It rang and it rang... and it rang. Then it went to voicemail. He hung up and repeated the process three more times without getting a response. Frustrated, he typed out a text message of 'Answer the fucking phone. We need to talk.'
Within a matter of seconds his phone rang. The caller ID displayed the name 'Maria' and he answered straight away.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he barked.
"Hello to you too," said Chelsea, calmly, on the other end of the line. He wasn't stupid enough to save her number under her actual name in his phone, for obvious reasons, so he'd replaced one he didn't use anymore.
"What fucking game are you playing?" he demanded. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.
"No game. I'm just taking matters into my own hands since you're obviously dragging your feet," she said.
"You're just making things harder."
"No, I'm not," she said as if she hadn't thrown a huge wrench into the works. "I figured maybe if I contacted him myself it would remind you that you owe me."
"How could I forget?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and then he asked, "how did you even get his number?"
"Got it from your phone forever ago," she answered nonchalantly. "I figured I may need it some day. It's not like I'm asking you to end world hunger, Mark, for fuck's sake. I just want a relationship with my brother."
He made a mental note to set up biometrics on his phone instead of having an obvious passcode in the future. "So you're in Irvine now?"
"No. I'm not that dumb."
"He said you used a 949 number."
"I used a fake number app, relax," she said with a slight chuckle.
"I'm glad you find this funny, because I don't," he snapped. "I had to stand there and pretend I was shocked you still existed."
"Funny? You know what isn't funny, Mark? Being lied to."
"I haven't lied," he said adamantly. "You just gotta trust me and let me work on it."
"Maybe you need a reminder." Her voice was sharper now; impatient. "Who made sure you got home safely to your mom that night and didn't freeze to death in the street? Who took care of your wife and kids while you were inside, Mark? Who made sure you had the best attorneys and worked their ass off to get those charges lessened? Who made sure none of that got leaked to the press so you could protect your reputation among those adoring teenage fans of yours? Who got no credit for any of that whatsoever?"
Mark sighed. "I know, and I'm thank—"
"Save it," she interrupted. "You were right back then, Mark. I did have an agenda. Now I'm calling in one of those favors you owe me."
"I told you to give me time, Chelsea," he told her again. "This isn't an easy thing to fix."
"And cleaning up after you was easy?" She scoffed. "You've had plenty of time, Mark. I got tired of waiting."
Before he could question what that meant or what she planned to do next, she'd hung up the phone. He immediately tried to call her back, but after a couple of rings it went to voicemail. He had no idea what she was going to do, or where she even was. As much as she'd helped him out, and even saved his life, he didn't trust her. There was every chance that she was in Irvine—or somewhere close— and was planning on making things even messier.
Part of him wanted to call Kameron and come clean about everything. If he explained the situation he'd been in back then and why he'd disappeared for so long— from wrestling, from music, from social media—maybe he'd understand. How would he even start that conversation, though?
"Hey, Kam, I know you're freaked out about your crazy half-sister being back on the scene, but I've been in contact with her for the past three years and I'm the one who she got your contact details from. It was an accident, though. She wasn't supposed to have any direct contact with you until I'd tried to smooth things out and explained to you that she's actually a life-saver and pulled me out of the shit, got me clean and then blackmailed me into trying to work things out between you."
Right. Like that was gonna wash.
Maybe it would be better than him finding out another way, but he couldn't think of any possible scenario that wouldn't be disastrous. If he told Kameron himself, he would flip. If he found out from Chelsea, he'd flip and think that Mark had betrayed him. In a way he had, but he had no idea that Chelsea was going to get in touch with him. He'd thought he'd had time to maybe break it to him gradually, or not at all. He'd hoped that Chelsea was just going to forget about it or give up on it the longer it took for Mark to make good on his word.
But this was Chelsea. She never forgot a debt.
Long Beach, California
Circa 5:30 PM
After Kameron had broken the news of Chelsea contacting him at training, Mark had watched him leave without putting up a fight and then turned his attention to the students. He put Chelsea to the back of his mind for those few hours but as soon as he got home, that changed. He greeted Kate and the kids and then made an excuse of having to call some label rep and disappeared upstairs.
Locking himself in his bedroom, he tried to mentally prepare himself for the conversation that was about to happen. This wasn't a situation he'd expected to find himself in and he knew he wasn't in control of it. He had to find out what was going on, though. He scrolled to the name 'Maria' in his phone and hit the call button. It rang and it rang... and it rang. Then it went to voicemail. He hung up and repeated the process three more times without getting a response. Frustrated, he typed out a text message of 'Answer the fucking phone. We need to talk.'
Within a matter of seconds his phone rang. The caller ID displayed the name 'Maria' and he answered straight away.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he barked.
"Hello to you too," said Chelsea, calmly, on the other end of the line. He wasn't stupid enough to save her number under her actual name in his phone, for obvious reasons, so he'd replaced one he didn't use anymore.
"What fucking game are you playing?" he demanded. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.
"No game. I'm just taking matters into my own hands since you're obviously dragging your feet," she said.
"You're just making things harder."
"No, I'm not," she said as if she hadn't thrown a huge wrench into the works. "I figured maybe if I contacted him myself it would remind you that you owe me."
"How could I forget?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and then he asked, "how did you even get his number?"
"Got it from your phone forever ago," she answered nonchalantly. "I figured I may need it some day. It's not like I'm asking you to end world hunger, Mark, for fuck's sake. I just want a relationship with my brother."
He made a mental note to set up biometrics on his phone instead of having an obvious passcode in the future. "So you're in Irvine now?"
"No. I'm not that dumb."
"He said you used a 949 number."
"I used a fake number app, relax," she said with a slight chuckle.
"I'm glad you find this funny, because I don't," he snapped. "I had to stand there and pretend I was shocked you still existed."
"Funny? You know what isn't funny, Mark? Being lied to."
"I haven't lied," he said adamantly. "You just gotta trust me and let me work on it."
"Maybe you need a reminder." Her voice was sharper now; impatient. "Who made sure you got home safely to your mom that night and didn't freeze to death in the street? Who took care of your wife and kids while you were inside, Mark? Who made sure you had the best attorneys and worked their ass off to get those charges lessened? Who made sure none of that got leaked to the press so you could protect your reputation among those adoring teenage fans of yours? Who got no credit for any of that whatsoever?"
Mark sighed. "I know, and I'm thank—"
"Save it," she interrupted. "You were right back then, Mark. I did have an agenda. Now I'm calling in one of those favors you owe me."
"I told you to give me time, Chelsea," he told her again. "This isn't an easy thing to fix."
"And cleaning up after you was easy?" She scoffed. "You've had plenty of time, Mark. I got tired of waiting."
Before he could question what that meant or what she planned to do next, she'd hung up the phone. He immediately tried to call her back, but after a couple of rings it went to voicemail. He had no idea what she was going to do, or where she even was. As much as she'd helped him out, and even saved his life, he didn't trust her. There was every chance that she was in Irvine—or somewhere close— and was planning on making things even messier.
Part of him wanted to call Kameron and come clean about everything. If he explained the situation he'd been in back then and why he'd disappeared for so long— from wrestling, from music, from social media—maybe he'd understand. How would he even start that conversation, though?
"Hey, Kam, I know you're freaked out about your crazy half-sister being back on the scene, but I've been in contact with her for the past three years and I'm the one who she got your contact details from. It was an accident, though. She wasn't supposed to have any direct contact with you until I'd tried to smooth things out and explained to you that she's actually a life-saver and pulled me out of the shit, got me clean and then blackmailed me into trying to work things out between you."
Right. Like that was gonna wash.
Maybe it would be better than him finding out another way, but he couldn't think of any possible scenario that wouldn't be disastrous. If he told Kameron himself, he would flip. If he found out from Chelsea, he'd flip and think that Mark had betrayed him. In a way he had, but he had no idea that Chelsea was going to get in touch with him. He'd thought he'd had time to maybe break it to him gradually, or not at all. He'd hoped that Chelsea was just going to forget about it or give up on it the longer it took for Mark to make good on his word.
But this was Chelsea. She never forgot a debt.