Dreams and Duality

There was something about The Gorilla Position that Nate cherished deeply. While he would prepare himself for a fight, both mentally and physically, in the confines of the locker room, it was in that last stretch behind the curtains that he fully went into game mode. The excitement of the producers as they scrambled to keep everyone on format, giving their cues to the sound and video departments, along with the nervous energy radiated by his fellow competitors, made for an intoxicating environment that was second to none. It meant even more to Nate to be in that position at Arcadia with a championship match against one of the best in the world mere moments from beginning. The time for wondering about what-if’s was over. Any questions that remained would soon be answered. It was time for Nate to take the backseat and hand the reins over to Indy. Win, lose, or draw, Indy Darling’s time had come.

As the opening notes of his entrance music plays, Indy feels the eyes of a producer turn his way, and he knows that his cue is forthcoming. For some reason, he suddenly feels unprepared, as if everything is happening too fast, but before he can dwell on those thoughts for long, a familiar voice calls out to him.

“Hey, motherfucker! Go show the world what you’re made of!”

Despite the producer signaling for Indy to get moving, he cannot help but turn to see the smiling face of Julius Fairweather, his former training partner and dear friend.

“Julius? What...what are you doing here?”

The man in the black suit with the perfectly styled afro smiles back at him like that cat who just ate the canary.

“You didn’t think I’d miss the biggest night of your career, did you? Hell, nah, motherfucker! I’m here to watch you conquer the world, and I didn’t come alone!”

“You got this one, kid. Believe in yourself, believe in everything you’ve learned, and there’s no way you can lose.”

It is another familiar voice that chimes in at the end of Julius’ statement, one that Indy can recognize even before he turns his head in the direction it came from. Sure enough, he sees the familiar face of his surrogate father and longtime trainer, Doctor Dalton Miyagi.

“Doc? You’re not supposed to be traveling with your heart condition! What are you…?”

“I’ve trained you since you were 13-years-old, kid. You think I’m gonna miss the toughest match you’ve ever been in? This is the one, kid. This is the one we’ve been working toward all these years. Tonight is the night that you prove you can be one of the elite.”

“You should listen to him. I didn’t pay for all those years of training just to watch you fuck it up now.”

The parade of familiar voices continues, even if this latest one is not as pleasant as the previous two. Walking up the steps that connect the back of the arena to the staging area is Indy’s mother, Senator Margaret Carmichael.

“What the fuck…”

“Now before you tell me to get out of here, I just want you to know how sorry I am for fighting against your hopes and dreams all these years. I’m sorry I left you and your dad when you were young, that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I put my career ahead of my own son, and it was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ll understand if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me, but I just had to be here to see you capture those dreams against all odds. I’m so proud of you, son.”

If her words are not enough to leave Indy speechless, the pleasant and reassuring smile on her face does the trick. The expression is surreal to him, almost alien in nature, but at the same time it fills a hole in Indy’s heart that he didn’t even know existed.

“You didn’t think I’d let your mom get all the glory, did you?”

As strange as it was to hear those reassuring words from his mother, it was even more out of place to hear the familiar and comforting voice of his dad. Indy turns to find Clive Darling standing directly behind him, and for some reason he can not explain, he feels his heart rise into his throat.

“D-d-dad? How…?”

He can’t even bring himself to finish his question as he throws his arms around his father and holds on as if his life depends on it. But why? His dad had been there for all of his matches, always by his side. Hadn’t he?

“Easy there, sport! You’re gonna break my ribs if you keep that up! Save the hugs for Emiko, cause she’s gonna need them after you beat her tonight.”

Indy feels tears welling up in his eyes for reasons he can’t fathom as he pushes himself back to look longingly at his father’s face.

“Dad, I…”

“Oh Nate, we couldn’t be more proud of you.”

The latest voice is one that he doesn’t immediately recognize, yet at the same time it’s like one he has known his entire life. The only thing that can pull Indy’s attention away from his dad is the caring words spoken by his young wife, who stands nearby with their infant son in her arms. He feels the need to shout out her name, yet in the excitement of the moment, it’s as if it has escaped his memory. That doesn’t stop her from giving him that familiar smile, the same one  he saw when they exchanged their wedding vows.

“I...I don’t….this isn’t…”

“Stop blabbering and go do it already. None of these ghosts are gonna do it for you.”

The final voice is more familiar than the rest, for it is the voice Indy hears every time he closes his eyes and thinks to himself. He turns to see the owner of that voice looking back at him, as if he’s staring across the expanse of a mirrored plane. The face he sees is his own.

“These are Nate’s people, not Indy’s. So leave me back here to sort them out while you go get it done in the ring. We both know that I can’t do it, but Indy Darling sure as hell can.”

Indy watches as his family and friends surround Nate as if they’re posing for some surreal family portrait. It was perfect. The perfect life. Surrounded by his friends and family, by the most important people in his life, Indy no longer knew why facing Zane was so important to him. He didn’t need the professional success that would come with defeating his friend for the Territorial Championship. He already had everything he needed. He looked from one of them to another; Julius, Doc, his parents, the wife and child who he loved with all his heart yet still didn’t recognize. Only the frantic gestures from the backstage producer and the sound of his entrance music could tear him away. He forced himself to turn his back on them to watch the entrance curtains part, the bright lights of the arena illuminating the staging area like the rising sun. It was time to make that first step. It was time to capture the dream before it all began to fade with his waking consciousness…




Nate slowly opened his eyes as the sun rose over the edge of the roof, its blinding light adding to the confusion of the moment. He was still atop the warehouse gym in Indianapolis where he had cut his promo the night before. He had watched the sun set and moon rise, and he had raised his concerns about Emiko’s physical condition before dozing off, and then...what then? What had happened to leave him on the roof overnight? As Nate sat up, he felt the aching pain at the back of his head where something had struck him. He ran his hand across the spot, knocking loose a few flakes of dried blood, before looking around the roof to see what could have possibly knocked him unconscious. It had to be an accident, right? Some busted piece of metal from the ancient AC unit? A broken piece of drainage pipe?

The soreness of his head was the only thing that eased the pain in his heart, as for a moment he wished he could go back into that dream where his father was alive, his mother wasn’t an evil bitch, and he was madly in love with the girl of his literal dreams. Instead of giving in to that desire, Nate continued to glance around the rooftop, his eyes finally falling upon a discarded lead pipe resting only a few feet from where he awoke. He crouched down to pick it up, quickly noticing the dried blood smeared across its surface. It hadn’t been an accident. Someone had done this to him, but why? Nate felt the pockets of his jeans, feeling his wallet and keys present and accounted for. He then moved his hand to the breast pocket of his shirt where his emergency pack of cigarettes were hiding, along with something else. He fished the folded piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and stared at the message scrawled upon it with curious confusion.


Knowing he hadn’t placed the note there, his troubled mind began to race. What did it mean? Who would bother attacking him just to leave a slip of paper in his pocket?

Colt?

No, any animosity they had toward each other had long been buried.

Emiko?

Definitely not her style even if they hadn’t become friends.

Strader?

Their old feud was a thing of the past.

Perhaps Clyde Livingston wanted to send a message, or someone he’d beaten on his path to becoming the number one contender…?

No, even those possibilities didn’t make sense. This was a personal message meant to scare him or even warn him. He made his way to the fire escape at the side of the building, not surprised when nothing out of the ordinary stood out to him. Whoever had done this, whatever their reasons could have been, solving the mystery would have to wait for another time. He had a plane to catch and the match of his life to prepare for...




Analyzing dreams and speculating about rooftop attackers had to wait. After an uncomfortable night of sleep on a hard rooftop, Nate had to scramble to make sure everything was in order before his flight back to the islands. When sleep on an airplane is more relaxing than the rest you can find at home, something is clearly not right in your personal world. Still, that’s exactly how it was for Nate, as his return to Wrestleworld seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye.

Unfortunately, he felt anything but at ease upon arrival, as his official pre-match physical loomed on the horizon. The doctor once again raised concerns about his back, but also assured Nate that he’d be cleared to compete even if some promotions back in the states didn’t see things the same way. Nate could only assume it was how Emiko was cleared as well, with WrestleWorld operating independently and free of the same restrictions that might force medical experts or insurance agents to sideline them in other places. That freedom to make his own decisions was something Nate truly valued when it came to WrestleWorld, and he knew that no matter how badly their bodies were banged up, it would allow him and Emiko to steal the show at Arcadia.

As if by fate, just as Nate’s thoughts drifted toward his upcoming opponent, he heard her voice behind the ramblings of his doctor. Glancing up from his spot on the table to the overhead television in his examination room, Nate saw Emiko answering questions at a live press conference to hype their approaching contest. Yet it wasn’t Emiko at all, was it? It wasn’t the young woman whose feet he stepped on while dancing with her at her wedding. It wasn’t his friend who he shared pizza with before their championship contract signing. It wasn’t Emiko at all.

It was Zane.

At least, that’s what Emiko was trying to portray to the masses. At one time, Nate would have bought into the presentation along with everyone else, but a lot of time had passed since he saw Zane as anything more than a potential opponent. Instead of seeing the elite competitor, the prodigy that had risen to the top of the wrestling world in record time, he saw the cracks in her armor. He saw her frustration grow with each question, her need to escape the spotlight and retreat to the safety of the family she had built. He saw Zane crumbling before his very eyes.

Yet he didn’t take joy in seeing those gaps in her armor. Instead he thought about the building pressure that she had been under, the sacrifices she had made to commit herself to being a champion. He thought about the demands of office suits, opponents, and fans that she had to deal with on a daily basis. He considered the kind of stress it would take to make a strong soul like Emiko show any signs of weakness at all.

As she jokingly began to ask herself questions and then answer them, Nate wondered if he would find himself giving in to the pressure as well. If...and it was a big if...he defeated Zane at Arcadia to become the Territorial Champion, would he be able to handle it any better than her? Would he be up to the challenge of not only defending the title, but meeting the needs of everyone who had a vested interest in it? Was he really prepared to give up on those ‘what-if’s’ to put everything he had into being Dominion’s standard bearer?

“Nate, are you listening to me?”

The doctor’s voice pulled him back to the present just as Zane made her exit from the press stage.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

The doctor gave him a cross expression, annoyed that his evaluation of the past few minutes had been completely ignored.

“The bump on the back of your head. Is that something I should know about?”

Indy forced his eyes away from the television screen and back to the doctor as he shook his head back and forth.

“No, I just took a little bump while I was training. Nothing to be concerned about at all.”

The doctor could not hide his doubts as his eyes narrowed, but he had many more competitors to see before the day was over, and taking the time to argue with a stubborn patient was not high on his list of priorities.

“Fine. Like I was saying, you’re in as good of shape as you could possibly be. The match with Montoya didn’t do you any favors, but you’ve kept your matches to a minimum and followed all of my suggestions. The day will come when you have no choice but to go under the knife, but barring any traumatic damage to your spine, you’re good to go as long as you feel the need to.”

Nate cracked a half-smile in an attempt to reassure the doctor.

“Then I’ll keep going until they put me into the ground.”




Nate owed Emiko a ‘thank you’ the next time he saw her. The press conference had gone off the rails just enough to convince Livingston that having the usually chipper Indy Darling in front of the cameras wouldn’t be necessary. After all, Nate and Emiko had already resisted his every attempt to get them at each other's throats, and there was no reason for him to expect that to change now. In a somewhat unprecedented display of solidarity, they had both managed to put their alter egos to the side as the build-up to their match progressed. It wasn’t about Zane and Indy Darling anymore. They had flipped the script to make it more about Emiko Morgan and Nate Darling. Of course, all of that would end at Arcadia. While Emiko and Nate were content to focus on their friendship and mutual respect, Zane and Indy were the ones being called upon to perform.

As he sat on a secluded dock overlooking the rolling tide of the sunset hour, Nate knew that it was also time to let Indy speak his mind. The joking was over, the pizza party had long since ended, and he had already taken the time to express his concerns about his match with Emiko from Nate’s point of view. Mentally, Nate put himself in the Gorilla Position where he would take the backseat so that Indy Darling could shine.

“The old-time announcers used to say ‘the time for talking is over’ when a match was about to begin. I guess some of them still do that. Personally, I always loved hearing it. As much as I loved a good promo or some out-of-the-ring conflict, it’s what happens from bell to bell that always got my blood pumping. Still does. That adrenaline, the hot white lights overhead, testing everything you’ve learned and studied against a worthy opponent, on some level it’s why we’re all in this business.”

“Some may claim it’s for the money and fame or maybe even the opportunity to hurt other people, but we all know those things are just fringe benefits. It’s that spotlight, that competition to prove we’re the best, that makes us get back up even when the pain is too much to take. That’s why those ten competitors will enter the Parabellum Match. It’s why Banch and Livingston will put away their suits in exchange for wrestling boots. That’s why Zane will walk to the ring at Arcadia to put the championship on the line against me.”

“I guess it’s also why it’s time to put the relationship that Emiko and Nate have on the back burner. I admit, the build up to our match has been like nothing I’ve been a part of before and I’ve loved every minute of it. Even when Colt was beating my ass in arm wrestling...only to lose to my epic thumb wrestling skills by the way...I was in sheer heaven. There’s no doubt that the brass in charge would have loved to have me and Zane at each other’s throats over the past several weeks. Confrontation makes for good television, after all. Instead, we did things our way. If you can’t understand why we would take such a friendly approach to one of the biggest matches in our mutual careers, then you don’t know a damn thing about your Territorial Champion or its number one contender.”

“Zane has carved out her legacy by doing things her way. She fights in her own unique style, cuts promos any damn way she pleases, and to hell with anyone who doesn’t like it. Above her talent, her accolades, and our friendship, that is what I admire about Zane...about Emiko Morgan...more than anything else.”

“So when she got in front of a bunch of vultures from the press and talked about the suits no longer seeing her as a marketable commodity...well...it struck a chord. By now, I assumed that Zane would understand that no one...not Clyde Livingston, not Banch Morgan, not an entire fleet of Architects...are capable of grooming Indy Darling into being something he’s not. All respect aside, all of our shared moments outside of the ring aside, the fact that Zane would even consider that the marketing geniuses would see me as a more malleable target than her, well, it’s disappointing. It’s probably the first time I’ve been disappointed in Zane. To even consider that I would be anything less than an independent spirit if...no, screw that, enough of the doubt...WHEN I become the new Territorial Champion, just shows how close Zane is to falling apart.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I take no pleasure in saying that. Emiko is a dear friend, and Zane is every bit the kind of champion I desire to be. I don’t look at the cracks in her armor and see some kind of underhanded opportunity. I’ve already said that her leg isn’t my target, that I won’t break a respected opponent for my own personal gain. I guess from that point of view, Zane is lucky that she’s facing me at Arcadia and not one of the blood-thirsty bottom-feeders on the roster who would stop at nothing to knock her off the throne. I see the pressure that she’s under, the stress of not disappointing her fans, the attacks coming at her from every direction. I see all of that and I feel bad for my friend. I also know that the only thing I can do to help her with all of that pressure is to beat her at Arcadia and take the burden for myself.”

“I’m not saying that I can handle everything better than her. I won’t promise to sit through a press conference without losing my mind. I can’t guarantee that the Jacob Strikers of the business won’t get under my skin and make me snap. Full disclosure, Nathaniel Darling wouldn’t be able to do that, but that’s why Indy Darling came into existence. That was Zane’s purpose for being as well, but Zane is failing. Zane is broken. Zane has achieved the greatest success she could possibly hope for by standing atop Dominion, but the Territorial Championship has found her wanting.”

“You did everything that we could have asked of you, Zane. You have been a champion that the rest of us can measure ourselves against. You have faced every challenge that was put in front of you and with every victory you’ve dazzled our minds and fueled our imaginations. You made us believe, not only in you as champion, but in our own selfish dreams of achieving that same kind of success. You have been a beacon of hope in a business that celebrates betrayal and short-cuts, and in doing all of those things, you’ve earned your rest.”

“Deep in your heart, you know that you can’t stay on top of the mountain forever. You know that without rest, without time to focus on Emiko instead of Zane, that all it will be for nothing. It’s not the suits who are grooming me to take your spot, Zane. It’s you. You don’t want your reign to end at the hands of someone who won’t appreciate it or treat it with the same respect and honor that you have. You want it to end at the hands of someone you trust. Someone who was cut from the same cloth as the rare Emiko Morgans of the world. You need to pass the torch to someone who doesn’t just meet your own high standards, but who has the potential to take Dominion to new and greater heights. You need me to beat you, Zane. Like a patient with an incurable disease, you need someone to pull the plug and send you to the rest you’ve earned. It’s time for the trigger to be pulled, and you need a friend holding the gun.”

“That’s where I come in. I have sacrificed the chance to have a normal life to stand at the top of this business. I have literally spent my entire life surrounded by professional wrestlers, learning the trade in locker rooms around the world before I even learned to write. I was learning how to move in a ring long before my official training began at the age of thirteen. I faked my identification so I could wrestle before I could ever be bothered to get a driver’s license. I sat in the front row to watch my own father give his life for the business, and not even that could break me. Instead it added more fuel to the burning fires of passion I have for professional wrestling. I was born for this business, and more specifically, I was born for this moment at Arcadia.”

“So when we enter the ring and fight each other with every ounce of desire in our bodies, when the time comes for me to pull that trigger, you’ll finally accept what I already know. I’m in this spot, not because I’m a prodigy, but because I have dedicated everything over the past 23 years to be there. I wish you were some aging veteran, someone at the end of their career. It would make what I have to do so much easier. Instead, you’re at the top of your game and in the prime of your life. It’s not fair that someone so young has had to hold up the mountain of pressure this business has dumped on you. As great as you are, as tough as you’ve become, and as much as you’ve grown, it just isn’t enough for you to keep going at the pace you’ve been on.”

“When my dreams become a reality, I know you’ll be the first person to congratulate me with an embrace. I know our friendship will endure and that we’ll eat more pizza and breadsticks than we can handle when it’s all said and done. I’m even down for cupcakes and ice cream if you want to take it that far. I also know that this isn’t the end for you. I know that a mentally focused and physically healed Zane will be back on top of the mountain. Rest assured that when that day comes, I’ll still be here holding the Territorial Championship, ready and willing to give you the rematch of a lifetime.”

“Everything leading up to this match has been about Emiko and Nate. It may be Zane and Indy when the bell rings, but we’ll find our way back to Emiko and Nate when it rings a second time. I can count the number of friends I have in this business on one hand, so I’m not about to sacrifice one of them to get ahead. But I am willing to get ahead to help one of those friends heal. The time for talking is over, Zane. Now it’s time to steal the show. The time for healing can’t start until we’ve done that.”

“I’ll keep Dominion in safe hands for you, Zane. I’m the only one who can. Because I’m Indy Darling, and that’s not just good enough, it’s better than the rest.”