Images of the fans screaming and ripping the new Butch Parker t-shirts from their bodies in the arena flood his mind like a tsunami. The looks on the children’s faces, the tears running down their cheeks are like a volley of arrows stabbing into him and he closes his eyes tighter as if feeling the same pain they felt. Butch then recalls the young disabled boy, sobbing his heart out as Michael James sank to new depths and beat up his father. Butch rams both his fists into the tiled bathroom wall sending shards of ceramic material to the wet floor. He stands up from his hunched posture, straightening up to his full height of 6-foot-5-inches but the sudden movement coupled with the injury to his ribs causes Butch to involuntarily wince, his hand instinctively towards his chest area. He turns off the shower and reaches tentatively to a towel rail adjacent to the shower, mopping his face before wrapping the towel around his waist and he steps out onto a bathmat. He grabs another towel and begins drying his chestnut brown hair as he makes his way across his locker room, a deep gushing sigh whooshing from his lungs as he does so.
Butch approaches the sink which is nailed to a wall atop an aqua-coloured sink adorned with several men’s grooming products such as hair gel, shaving foam, a Gillette ProGlide razor and a can of Lynx Africa deodorant. Butch examines a small cut on his forehead which he endured during his match with Stu-E Price earlier in the evening. The first aider has already placed plastic stitches over the wound. Butch’s eyes move from his face’s reflection down to his muscular upper torso. The front of his abdomen leading into his chest area is severely bruised, a mixture of blues, greens and browns litter his body like a depressing watercolour painting. Another small sigh escapes Butch’s mouth; this one reeking of resignation. He knows he won’t be one hundred percent fit for his match with Senester at Blood, Sweat and Tears.
Suddenly, Butch catches sight of his iPhone also sitting amongst his toiletries. He has three missed video chats and four missed calls, all from Wisdom. Butch breathes out deeply through his nose and grabs his phone, immediately redialling Wisdom’s last failed video chat. After about five seconds ringing, Wisdom’s face appears on his screen. Her face is a mixture of anger and worry; a look Butch has grown to know very well after all their years together.
(Butch): I know, I know….
(Wisdom): You don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.
(Butch): “I told you to stay safe.”
(Wisdom): I don’t sound like that but yes I told you to and look what happened.
(Butch): I know what kind of things Senester is capable of babe but I think the whole world caught with their pants down with what that stunt he pulled tonight.
(Wisdom): All those children though, I just couldn’t help thinking…
Butch cuts Wisdom off mid-sentence, knowing she’s referring to their own unborn child.
(Butch): I know sweetie, I know.
(Wisdom): And that sick f***, Michael James, who the f*** does he think he is? He’s had one match and thinks he can swagger about the HWA like he’s a damn Hall of Famer?
(Butch): He’ll get what’s coming to him, don’t worry. That little prick is just trying to make himself known but he doesn’t know what he’s getting involved in.
A small smile tugs at the corners of Wisdom’s mouth at her husband’s “take no prisoners” attitude, which was one of the main reasons she fell for him.
(Wisdom): How are your ribs anyway? They looked like they took quite beating? You going to be okay for Blood, Sweat and Tears?
Butch once again instinctively pulls his free hand towards his injured area upon Wisdom’s mentioning of it.
(Butch): Well if I’m being honest they hurt like a son-of-a-b###h. Can’t blame Stu-E for targeting them during our match but it’s something I could have definitely done without. I’m definitely not gonna be fully healed for Bee Ess Tee but since when has that stopped me before eh?
(Wisdom): Just you make sure baby’s daddy doesn’t risk too much okay?
Butch smirks and raises a single eyebrow.
(Butch): Me? Take risks? You must have me confused with someone else.
Wisdom reciprocates Butch’s smile.
(Wisdom): Just get that sexy body of yours home pronto, I want you all to myself for at least a little while before you get into battle mode for your match!
(Butch): Loud and clear. I’ll get changed, pack my stuff, check out of the hotel and head to the airport. I’ll be home before you know it. I love you!
(Wisdom): I love you too baby!
She blows a kiss to the screen before she waves it goes to black, ending the call. Butch puts his iPhone down and walks back into the main body of the locker room, drying himself off with the towel around his shoulders as the scene fades to black.
Message Thread
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