Post by Abby Park on Jan 10, 2013 10:38:15 GMT -6
December 26, 2012. 6:13 P.M.
[/center] No matter how many times he looked over the message it never changed. No matter how many times he read it, his brain refused to accept it. No matter how many times he pulled at the knob, the door would not open.
You've missed rent for three months. You were warned. You can pick up your belongings in my office.
[/i] "Well, merry Christmas to me." Ken Park tried the knob one last time before kicking the door that once led into his apartment. Of course the landlord would wait until Ken took a walk; he had yet to meet a landlord with any brass.
With a heavy sigh and an angered expression, Ken proceeded down the stairs towards the office of his former landlord, an emotional man from Germany. Ken knocked on his door twice. The third time could be considered pounding. The door opened slightly, the latch preventing it from opening fully. A small garbage bag slid through the opening followed by a dozen envelopes.
"Your clothes and your mail. You lived in squalor, you know. Should make you feel right at home with the rest of the bums."
Before Ken could react the door was slammed shut and no amount of pounding from Ken would open it again. He gave it one final kick just to be sure. Ken forcefully shoved his back against the wall and slid down, scowling. Being evicted was bad enough, but he let someone else have the last laugh. And that was unacceptable. Wanting nothing more than to break down the door and punch the landlord in the face, Ken instead lashed out against the nearest inanimate object. His quick punch did little to the garbage bag other than send the mail flying to the floor. Ken was shaking his hand back and forth when his eyes wandered to the envelopes and his eyes widened as he saw a letter from a familiar name.
~~~~~~~
December 31, 2012. 12:13 A.M.
La Jolla, California
[/center]La Jolla, California
Abby Park again found herself waiting for a bus in the middle of the night. She would've caught one earlier, but something had been worrying her. Abby had intended to again inform her brother of her success, or successes as it turned out, but there was no response. Under normal circumstances Abby would just assume Ken was asleep, but these were not normal circumstances - not even his answering machine had clicked on.
So Abby had spent her night constantly calling her brother and worrying, pacing back and forth between vending machines, stopping only when a janitor informed her that they were shutting down for the night. She now sat at the bus stop, head resting in her hands, unable to so much as enjoy the night's events. Plus, it was cold.
"Hey there, Gourdie."
Abby quickly shot her head up and nearly fainted when she saw a familiar figure approaching the bus stop.
"Ken!" she jumped up from the bench and hugged the slender man that was her brother. "I've been trying to call you all night. Wait, why are you here? Did you get my messages?"
"What, I can't come watch my sister at work?" Ken smirked, pulling back from the hug, "I got your Christmas gift. Thought I'd see what has you so happy these days."
The two of them walked back to the bus stop bench, Abby looking as if the past few hours hadn't happened and Ken hiding his intentions behind a brotherly grin.
"You could've waited outside the arena or something."
"I wanted to surprise you."
"Ken, waiting outside the arena would've been a surprise."
They paused and broke into mild laughter.
"Hey, Abs, let's get a little midnight snack. We can have that talk you mentioned."
Abby had no objections.
~~~~~~
December 31, 2012, 1:03 A.M.
Inside a diner
[/center]Inside a diner
"I can't believe you won two in one night. Is that normal?"
The siblings sat in a virtually empty diner, a plate of pancakes and sausage in front of Ken and a glass of milk slowly warming in front of Abby. Inbetween questions, Ken was shoveling the food in as if it were his only meal in days.
"It's not unheard of. Are you going to answer my question?" Abby took a small sip from her milk, eyeing her brother curiously.
"Yeah, yeah, in a minute. We're talking about you right now. You sure you don't want anything to eat?" A bit of pancake dropped from his mouth onto the table. "So, does that mean you're good or what? That one guy...Ikamura-"
"Iwakuma."
"Right, he certainly didn't look too happy about the outcome."
"He never looks happy."
Ken let out a loud belch and slid his cleaned plate to the side. Abby was disgusted but said nothing, she just took another sip of milk. Ken leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
"But there are some issues I have with you, Abs."
Abby paused in mid-sip, eyes looking over the glass towards Ken.
"No, nothing like what mom and dad probably told you. First off, what is up with your theme song?"
Abby set her glass down and leaned back in the booth. "What about it?"
"It makes you sound like a loser. Who wants to root for someone who has a theme song saying they never win?"
"I'm not looking for people to root for me, Ken."
Ken hit the table with his palms, clapped his hands and leaned back in the booth all in one motion. "And that's your first problem. You may have won some fights, but if no one ever roots for you what's the point?"
Abby was the one leaning forward now, her face tilted to the side. "If I can win the crowd will respond."
"Wrong. Even losers can get the sympathy of a crowd. Hell, the Royals still have fans, right? You need to play to the crowd more. Get them on your side. Get them pumped and ready to see you kick ass. Otherwise if you win it won't matter."
The waitress stopped in front of the table, picking up the empty plate in silence. "Anything else?" she asked with a clearly angered voice. Ken waved her off with the back of his hand, his eyes focused on his sister.
"The crowd, Abby, is your greatest asset. It's like having the home town advantage."
"No, it's not important, Ken. All I need to do is win. That's all. Forget about the crowd. I'm not fighting them."
Ken raised his palm at Abby and sighed. "Forget it, we'll tackle that later. How come you don't have one of those exciting moves like that Rourke lady has. Did you hear how excited people were when she jumped off the top?"
"I do have them. I did it to Kallie." Abby was slowly getting annoyed by this line of questioning. Who was Ken to judge her after ignoring her for so long?
"Did you? It was so unimpressive that I forgot about it. What do you call it?"
Abby was taking another sip of milk. It had fully warmed by this point and she put on a sour face as it went down. "The Cropduster."
Ken repeated his table slamming act. "That's problem two. What kind of name is that? It's embarrassing."
"It's so I can remember my roots, Ken."
"Fuck your roots, Abby. No one cares. You're not a farm girl from Tennessee anymore. You live in California. No one here knows what a cropduster even is!"
"Ken, listen, we're done talking about this. You still haven't answered my question." Were Ken not her family, she would've been very tempted to hit him very hard. "Why didn't your answering machine pick up tonight?"
"Damndest thing, Abs. There was a fire at my place. Ruined everything. Anyway, how about The Super Shock instead of Cropduster?"
"A FIRE? Oh my god, Ken, are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Anyway, let me float an idea to you."
Ken leaned in close while Abby looked worried.
"You don't want to appeal to the crowd, I get that. You have your own backwards way of doing things. Fine. But if you don't want to get people excited to see you compete you need to have someone who can get people excited for you. Abby, you need a hype man."
Abby's bug eyed expression became one of confusion. "A what?"
"Hype man. Someone to get the crowd excited while you do your thing. Hype man."
"Ken, no."
"Hear me out, Abby. Think about it. What if you had someone to work the crowd while you dust crops? You'd be able to win over the crowd without doing anything. That way you'd have fans and your victories will actually mean something. You'll always have someone in your corner, you know?"
"Ken, you're talking about a manager."
Ken clapped his hands and pointed at Abby, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes! A manager! You need a manager. And it just so happens I need a job."
Abby, in the middle of drinking milk, nearly coughed it back up."You want to be my manager? No, Ken. I don't need a manager and even if I did I wouldn't turn to you. I've gotten by just fine without one."
"Yes, but how long is that going to last? You're not going to be a winner forever. You need someone that can make a loss seem positive. Plus we can work the family angle. People eat that crap up. Imagine it. A brother and sister duo conquering the ring. Think of the popularity it would bring. We could be headline acts!"
"There's no we in this situation, Ken."
Ken leaned back against the booth, disappointment on his face. Abby sighed and finished the milk in one quick gulp. Neither sibling said a word as the waitress came by to clear the table and set the bill in front of them. Abby was looking down towards the table; Ken was looking anywhere Abby wasn't.
"Alright, fine, I'll be honest here." Ken broke the awkward silence suddenly, "I need a place to stay and figured by being your hype man you would let me stay at your place. At least until I got enough to get a new apartment."
"All you had to do was ask, Ken."
"So I can stay with you?"
"Of course. You're my brother, my door is always open to family."
Ken smiled and again placed his hands on the table. Abby did her best to hide how uncomfortable she really was behind a similar smile.
"Abby, hold on. You've got a match coming up, right? How's this sound: if you win I'll accept that your way is better and I won't ever bring it up again. But if you lose you consider getting a hype man."
Abby let out a long sigh as she stared her brother in the eyes. "Fine, whatever. If I lose I'll think about it. But Ken, I never intend to lose." Abby and Ken moved to slide out of the booth.
"One more thing," Ken said as they were putting their coats on. He handed Abby the bill with a slight chuckle. "I lost my wallet in the fire...you can cover this, right?"
~~~~~~~~
"I've been doing a lot of thinking."
The image in the camera slowly fades into focus revealing Abby Park standing in front of a blue speed bag, wearing a shirt with the EXODUS logo plastered on the front. Her hair is tied back in a small ponytail and she is strapping on a pair of black gloves.
"Thinking about some things I said and some things that were said to me. About me, rather."
Abby lightly punched her left palm with her right hand and did the opposite before turning her back to the camera.
"Specifically words exchanged between Fiona Rourke and myself. She called me invisible. Normally I don't let petty insults bother me, but I couldn't let this one go. She called me invisible. I may have insinuated some things about her and upper management, yes, but what can I say? She looks like the kind of girl whose mother told her to...work with what she had. I'm not saying she is guilty of what I accused her of, but I'm not seeing any evidence to the contrary."
The camera zoomed in on Abby's back. Her head was pointed down towards the ground, her shoulders drooped low. Quickly she turned around to face the camera, her teeth grinding together, her brow furrowed in anger.
"But she called me invisible!" Abby shouted before breaking into hysterical laughter. After a brisk few seconds the laughter stopped and Abby turned her back to the camera once more. She raised her fists towards the speed bag and planted her feet firmly on the ground.
"So I've been doing a lot of thinking. And in some ways we were both at fault. I came to the conclusion that words hurt. They hurt, Fiona. Words hurt. Yours hurt me. They hurt me in much the way I am sure Daisuke's little display after your victory hurt you. We've both been hurt, only yours was a lot more physical. You know what else hurts, Fiona? Fists."
Abby begins to strike the speed bag as the camera zooms in on her fists getting into a groove against the bag.
"Every day I come here and I picture this little bag of air as your head, Fiona. You have a lot in common. You're both full of air, though in your case you're full of hot air. Calling me invisible? Please. Another thing the two of you have in common is that you both feel good to hit. Of course I am assuming a lot of you, but I saw the way Daisuke hit you and I gotta say, it looked like it felt pretty damn good."
Abby picked up the pace in hitting the bag as the camera continued to track her strikes against it.
"You know," Abby says inbetween grunts and strikes, "I was kind of hoping Johnny would win last time but now I think differently. Now I get to be the one to dethrone a Queen. You call yourself a pixie, right? You do know that pixies are small, yes? A pixie is like a fly. You can crush it with a single hand."
Abby drops her left hand to the side and continues striking the bag with her right.
"It had to happen like this. You and I know it. You called me invisible, Fiona. I can't let that slide. Because while you've been busy getting hurt like the frail little pixie you are, I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've been thinking of the best way to crush a pixie. Right now you're on top of the world. You're focused on those at the top. That's your mistake. You think all of your threats are visible. You think your threats come from cowards like Daisuke Iwakuma."
Abby takes a quick step back and punches the bag one last time with her right fist. She steps back from the bag as it bops back and forth and turns to face the camera, sweat beading down her brow.
"But I'm invisible, Fiona. You said so yourself. You probably don't consider me much of a threat. I like it that way. The best way to catch a pixie is to catch it unawares. Something Daisuke proved already. Only he didn't finish the job. He didn't crush a pixie. I will. And then we'll see who's invisible."
Abby turned and quickly punched the speed bag once more.
"She called me invisible."
Again Abby broke into hysterical laughter as the camera zooms out of focus and slowly fades to black.
