Father Figures

Wed Nov 18, 2020 12:35 am

Friday, November 6th, 2020

Proving Ground turned out to be an event that the fans of Project: Honor would likely remember for years to come. It was a night that included historic announcements, a night when new champions were crowned, and a night where one man took things too far.

For “Everyone’s Favorite” Indy Darling, it was a night where the dreams of both a father and a son materialized. It was a night that proved how hard work and dedication can generate positive results. In some ways, it was a night where he stopped being just another kid on the independent scene and took his first steps as a man in the big leagues.

He hadn’t given up when his debut promo got left on the cutting room floor. He hadn’t given up when Caliban outperformed him to win the Four Way Rookie Showcase. He hadn’t given up when Sarah Roberts outlasted him in the Rage in the Cage Match. Earlier that very night, when it felt like Colton Saint had broken his back with a powerbomb and had him in position for the STF, Indy Darling still wasn’t willing to give up.

These are the thoughts that ran through his head as he sat backstage on a rusted folding chair, the Project: Honor X-Factor Championship over his shoulder, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, a bottle of water in his hands, and his sunglass-covered eyes glued to a monitor. As other competitors passed by, on their way to or from matches and interviews, some would stop to offer congratulations, some would mutter words like “lucky”, and still others would grant him envious glances out of the corners of their eyes.

He had made it a point to stay until the final match was over since his earliest days as a performer, both to show respect to his peers and to learn from their successes and failures. On that night, he had another reason to stick around, as one of the agents had mentioned Crystal Ward interviewing him about his momentous victory over “The Last Breathing Outlaw”.

So he watched and he waited. He wondered how he might possibly answer the interviewer’s questions, when the reality of his win hadn’t even set in yet. Indy thought about how he had been pushed to his limits in the match and how the pat on the back from his defeated opponent had surprised him as much, if not more, than everyone else watching. He thought about the advice Colton Saint had passed on during his promo, when he could have used that time to verbally trash Indy about his win/loss record, his eccentric quirks, or his relatively short time in the business. This man, this “Outlaw”, who so many of his fellow competitors despised with a passion, had treated Indy like a respected opponent before their match as well as after. Even in defeat, when he could have chosen to beat Indy mercilessly, he showed the kind of honor that the company was named after. And in that moment...somewhere within his jumbled thoughts...Colton Saint reminded Indy of his late father.

He looked up from his water bottle with the sudden realization that he was so lost in his thoughts that he had missed the finish to the tag team match involving Jay Jones, Josiah Andrew Scott, Elena DeDraca, and Contessa Floran. Despite not knowing them personally, it gave Indy a brief twinge of guilt, as not paying proper attention to his contemporaries went against everything his father had taught him. In that moment, he told himself to remain focused on the show, to stay disciplined, and to sort through his vortex of emotions once Proving Ground was over.

Next up was Crystal Ward’s interview with Zane. At first it seemed to be business as usual, and Indy even felt some disappointment in seeing Zane without the Warrior Rising Title. Having a match against her for that very prize had been in the back of Indy’s mind since he signed his Project: Honor contract, but in a strange twist of fate, he found himself claiming another championship while Zane had lost the Warrior Rising Title to Sarah Roberts. He barely had time to process that new reality when the interview was interrupted by the moans of pain from a fallen security guard. It immediately struck Indy as odd and clearly seemed to be an anomaly in an otherwise well-structured episode of Proving Ground.

Then came the attack. Zane was on the ground before anyone had time to realize what was happening. At first, it seemed to fit in with the modus operandi of professional wrestling. After all, blindsided attacks away from the ring were nothing new. When Indy recognized the face of Zane’s attacker, he was momentarily taken aback. Everyone was aware of the bad blood between Saint and Zane even before their epic encounter at Bloodbath, but while most still considered Colton as the villain, Indy thought he had seen a different side of “The Last Breathing Outlaw”. He continued to process those thoughts and emotions as Colton locked Zane in the trunk of the car, glared unnervingly at the camera, and eventually sped off into the night.

The man who Indy was developing a growing respect for, who Indy was already looking forward to facing again in the future, who he had offered his hand to as a symbol of appreciation, had just committed the most heinous act in Project: Honor’s young history. The backstage area became a sudden flurry of chaos as agents and staff questioned what they had just seen and desperately tried to figure out what to do next. Amid the growing turmoil, Indy remained seated and selfishly thought about the offer of a handshake, the pat on the back, and how he had been wrong about so many things.

He should have been planning a celebration. He should have felt overjoyed. Instead he could not fight the feeling of sickness welling up in his stomach. As he rose from his chair and made his way to the locker room, Indy decided that the rest of the show could wait. The interview could be rescheduled. Neither would be able to capture his full attention as new feelings of guilt started to chisel away at his psyche. This man who he barely knew, yet whose characteristics had conjured images of his father, had been pushed over the edge. Sliding the X-Factor Championship from his shoulder and allowing the end of the strap to drag across the floor, Indy Darling could not help but wonder if he had been the one to give Colton Saint that final shove into the abyss of madness.

Friday, November 5th, 2004

Even at 7 years old, Indy had already seen a lot of things while traveling the road with his father. Yet among all of the memories he made over the years, he would never forget the events that followed an otherwise normal gymnasium show in Red Bluff, California. Clive Darling had just collected his payout from the booker, his reward for a well-wrestled match near the end of the card, and with young Indy by his side, the independent veteran was making his way through the parking lot.

“Stay down, you stupid son of a bitch!”

The shout immediately attracted Indy’s attention, interrupting whatever question about Clive’s match he had been asking. Father and son turned their attention across the parking lot, where one man stood above another with a tire iron in his hand. Clive instructed his son to stay put before racing toward the two men, both of whom Indy recognized from earlier in the night.

The man wielding the weapon had been introduced to the crowd as “The Outlaw” Otto Osbourne, and the man seated on the pavement with his back against a parked car was his opponent earlier in the night, a relative newcomer named Grayson Creed. As Indy watched his father jump between the two men in a desperate attempt to de-escalate the tense situation, he remembered the match they had shared earlier in the evening. It was not the outcome that Indy or the other fans expected, as the veteran Osbourne took a surprise pin fall loss to the younger competitor. In that moment, as other competitors joined Clive in restraining Osbourne and protecting Creed, Indy realized he was seeing the fallout from that upset victory.

Several minutes later, after cooler heads prevailed and the situation came to a resolution, Clive returned to his son’s side, well-aware that the boy would be full of questions. Anticipating the inquiry to come, Clive attempted to temper his son’s curiosity by heading him off at the pass.

Clive: “Nothing to worry about, son. Just a misunderstanding between a couple of the boys.”

Indy: “But…” Indy began, foiling his father’s preemptive measures with a single word. “They already had their match. Why are they fighting without any fans around?”

Clive let out a heavy sigh, fully aware that a father’s job of passing along knowledge and advice was rarely easy.

Clive: “Well...Otto wasn’t very happy with how that match ended. He felt like the kid embarrassed him, and he was too angry to wait for the next show. His demons got the better of him and he took things too far.”

Indy thought on this for a moment, his brow furrowed to physically express his deep consideration.

Indy: “Demons? Like when Superstar Steve turned heel against Brock “The Rock” Jensen?”

Clive could not suppress his smile when confronted with his son’s innocence.

Clive: “No, not quite like that. That happened inside the ring during their television show. This thing with Otto and Grayson, well, fights that take place outside of the ring or even outside of the arena tend to be more personal in nature. Now, I’m not saying that Otto isn’t a good guy, but the man has some personal problems. You see, he’s been in this business for a long time. He’s spent years dedicating himself to nothing but professional wrestling. Now that he’s a bit older, he simply has nothing else besides this business. When that’s all a man has and things stop going his way, well, it’s a difficult thing to handle. Tonight, Otto handled it the wrong way.”

Once again, wrinkled lines of deep thought appeared on Indy’s forehead as he processed his father’s words. As they reached Clive’s car and climbed inside, Indy continued with his questions.

Indy: “But dad...I’ve seen younger guys beat you before. You’ve never beaten them up in the parking lot, have you?”

Clive was still unable to hide his smile as he shook his head.

Clive: “Of course not, son. You’ve seen what I do when that happens. I give the kid a pat on the back for a job well done and then I move on to the next show.”

Indy: “But...why don’t you act like Otto?”

Clive turned to look at his son, looking both ridiculous and adorable with an adult pair of sunglasses dominating the surface of his young face. Reaching out with one hand, he patted Indy on the head and ruffled his hair.

Clive: “Because I have more than just professional wrestling in my life. I don’t have demons, I have angels. I have you. If that wasn’t the case, well, who knows? The point is, if you ever find yourself in the business, make sure you have something meaningful outside of it. Something to keep you grounded. To keep you sane. Do you understand, son?”

Indy gave his father a wide smile and a thumbs up, his thirst for the answers to life’s mysteries momentarily sated.

Clive: “So...McDonalds?”

A second thumbs up gave Clive the answer he expected, and father and son made their way back onto the road.

Saturday, November 7th, 2020

Doc Miyagi: “McDonalds!”

Dr. Dalton Miyagi could not contain his excitement. While Indy’s mind was still a jumbled mess of thoughts and memories from the previous night, his manager was firmly focused on the future.

Doc Miyagi: “Nike! Mountain Dew! Sony! Think about the merchandising opportunities this could create! Think about the sponsors, the spokesman spots, the cameos!”

Indy glanced from his position on the ring apron over to the X-Factor Championship strapped around his manager’s waist. As Doc Miyagi paced back and forth in front of the practice ring, Indy silently prayed for a few moments of silence so that he could continue to process his emotions.

Doc Miyagi: “I’m telling you, kid...this could be a dream come true! You’re not only signed to one of the biggest up-and-coming promotions in the world, you’re one of its champions! Project: Honor’s 18 to 34 demographic is booming right now!”

Indy: “Doc…”

Indy tried to interrupt, knowing it was a futile effort before he even spoke.

Doc Miyagi: “Maybe I’m thinking too small. Maybe we should look into more personalized branding instead. I’m not just talking t-shirts and action figures, but what about sunglasses? Maybe we can cut a deal with Oakley! Or...or...Marlboro! Instead of the cowboy gimmick they could reform their whole marketing scheme around the young ambivalent rebel!”

Indy: “C’mon, Doc…”

Doc Miyagi: “And don’t even get me started on the ladies! Your days of being a lonely bachelor are over! Now you’re going to be a very busy bachelor! Your point value on the ring-rat scorecard just tripled!”

Indy: “Doc!”

This time Indy shouted his manager’s name with enough volume and passion to give Miyagi reason to pause. He stopped in mid-walk a few feet in front of Indy, turning his head to display a look of momentary shock.

Indy: “You know I’m not in this for the money or the fame. I don’t want to be a spokesman and I sure as hell don’t want my name associated with cigarettes! I’m trying to quit as it is! Let’s just...let’s just focus on the wrestling, okay?”

Doc Miyagi could not hide his disappointment as his shoulders began to slouch and his eyebrows lowered. Slowly, he reached behind his back to unfasten the X-Factor Championship belt from his waist.

Doc Miyagi: “I’m...I’m sorry, kid. Sometimes I get carried away. It’s just that I’ve never been at the level you’re at now, and I sure as hell didn’t expect you to be there either.”

Indy looks up, his expression a mix of offense and perplexity.

Indy: “Um...thanks?”

Doc Miyagi: “No, no, no…”

Doc immediately began to walk back his comment.

Doc Miyagi: “I didn’t mean it like that, Indy. It’s just that I didn’t expect you to reach this level so soon. I mean, we had discussed the possibility of you competing against Zane for the Warrior Rising Title, but you budged in line and beat Colton fucking Saint for X-Factor instead! I just…”

Indy: “Don’t...don’t mention their names right now, okay?”

Doc took a couple of small steps toward Indy, laying the championship belt in the young man’s lap as if forcing him to look at it while his head hung forward. He then rested his right hand on Indy’s left shoulder, summoning the best fatherly advice he could muster.

Doc Miyagi: “Look, I know this situation is really messing with your head, but try not to overthink it. For all we know, they’re in it together to drum up some publicity. Even if that’s not the case, Saint isn’t dumb enough to do anything crazy. Maybe he’s just trying to put some fear in the girl, or maybe he feels like he needs to look tough after losing…”

Indy shrugged his shoulder to knock Doc’s hand away, gripped the championship in his hand, and hopped down from the apron. Before walking away, he could not resist shooting his manager a look of disappointment.

Indy: “You know...you really suck at this fatherly advice shit.”

Indy marched away, either unaware or unconcerned with how deep his words had cut into Doc Miyagi. After a brief pause, the aging manager hung his head and walked in the opposite direction, unable to meet Malaysia’s gaze as he moved to join her on the couch. As he slumped into the seat next to her, she reached up to play with his hair in a comforting manner.

Malaysia: “Aw, don’t worry about him, baby. He’s just 50 shades of fucked up right now. He’ll get on board the money train soon enough.”

Doc Miyagi: “Yeah...Yeah, I suppose…”

Doc raised his head, catching a glimpse of Indy as he exited the warehouse. While his thoughts were far away, Malaysia continued to offer him words of wisdom.

Malaysia: “You know what that boy really needs?”

Doc Miyagi: “He’s...not really interested in the ladies of your profession…”

Malaysia: “Oh, he does need to get laid, but that’s not what I was talking about. What he really needs is a friend. I think somewhere, deep down in his little ginger heart, he actually thought that he’d made a connection with that Colton Saint guy.”

Miyagi shrugged at the notion, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the escort’s assessment.

Doc Miyagi: “Maybe. Friends in this business though...eventually one turns on the other…”

Malaysia: “Hmm...well...have you given any more thought on what we talked about?”

Doc turned to look at Malaysia, giving her a curious expression.

Doc Miyagi: “You mean the Fairweather thing? That stupid dream he had with the lemur and the porn star?”

Malaysia: “Well, yeah. You remember how he talked about the guy from his dream. He said it felt like they really knew each other. Like they were lifelong friends. I keep telling you, Julius would totally fit Fairweather to a tee.”

Doc hung his head once again, shaking it back and forth.

Doc Miyagi: “No...just...no. I don’t think having your pimp pretend to be his friend is a good solution. The boy grew up on the road alongside a bunch of professional wrestlers three times his age. Making friends isn’t exactly one of his best social skills, but I’m still not going to pay someone to play the part.”

Malaysia leaned back on the couch, continuing to play with Miyagi’s hair while allowing the strap of her top to slide off her shoulder.

Malaysia: “Well...you just keep it in mind while I help you relax…”

Doc could not help but consider the possibility, oblivious to the convincing charms Malaysia was using against him. After years of training him, he had grown to look at Indy like a surrogate son, wanting only the best for him. As he began to relax, he wondered what harm Malaysia’s plan could possibly cause…

Now

Walking the streets of Indianapolis became an entirely new experience for Indy following the last episode of Proving Ground. These streets, where he was once beaten up as a young teenage boy in search of old mattresses to practice wrestling moves on, were suddenly treating him with a newfound respect. People shouted his name from car windows as they passed by. Fans both young and old stopped him to ask for an autograph or a selfie. Neighborhood businesses greeted him with open arms and free samples. Before winning the X-Factor Championship, this was the kind of treatment he hoped to someday experience, but now, now he just wanted to be alone to process his thoughts. What would have been an easy task to accomplish a couple of weeks ago, was now a rare privilege.

With that in mind, he does his best to stick to the side streets and quiet suburbs as he takes his evening walk, using this time to serve the dual purpose of clearing his thoughts and speaking his mind.

Indy: “Where to begin? Do I start by addressing Colton Saint or Kimberly Chase? Do I address the doubters like John Nash Strader who overlooked me? Should I focus on Caliban or Sarah Roberts, two former opponents who got the best of me, only to see me match or surpass their own achievements? How about I address all of them with this...”

Indy keeps a steady grip on his phone to make sure there is no pause in his recording as he holds up the X-Factor Championship belt in his other hand.

Indy: “Don’t get me wrong...I freely admit that I went into my match with Colton Saint as the underdog and that my win was an upset. But don’t mistake that for a fluke. Don’t assume that it’s a swerve. Don’t fall into the trap of making excuses for my opponent. Save them for yourself in case you keep making the mistake of underestimating me.”

Indy slips the championship over his shoulder and continues to speak.

Indy: “I promise to make some official statements regarding the title and my goals as champion at the next Proving Ground. So for now, rest assured that Xavier is in good hands.”

Indy gives a slight smirk.

Indy: “That’s right, Kim. As of this moment, the name Maxwell is officially retired in regards to The X-Factor Championship. It was a stupid name anyway. And if you don’t like it? Mention it to your lawyers when you’re desperately trying to arrange visitation rights.”

Indy takes a few more steps before he continues to speak, his brief smile fading in exchange of a more serious expression.

Indy: “With that out of the way, I want to send out my thoughts to Zane after what she went through last week. I also want to apologize to her for what happened. Now, I don’t want to make myself a bigger part of the situation than I am, but if my win over Colton was in any way responsible for pushing him over the edge...well...I’m sorry. I’d like to be able to say that I would do things differently if I knew how it would all turn out, but…”

Indy glances over at the title on his shoulder and considers it for a moment before looking back at the camera.

Indy: “Look, there is one thing I would do differently. And right now I’m talking to either Jekyll or Hyde, whichever version of Colton is listening. I sure as hell wouldn’t have tried to shake your hand after our match. In the heat of the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. Not that you give a damn, but I based my opinions of you solely on our interactions. Based on our back-and-forth before the match and then the match itself, I had nothing but respect for you. Again, I know you don’t give a damn. Nonetheless, I appreciated the fact that you treated me like a worthy opponent and that you respected our match enough to give me a pat on the back. It was more respect than I’ve received from anyone else since arriving in Project: Honor, and I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t a good feeling.”

Indy turns his attention away from the camera, looking at something in the distance that we cannot see.

Indy: “I’m sure the Straders of the world will jump at the chance to make fun of me for that, but anyone who says that the respect of their peers and a little validation doesn’t make them feel good is a goddamn liar. I should know...I tried telling the same lies when I first got here.”

Indy produces a cigarette from the pocket of his denim shirt and flips it between his lips. Seconds later, he lights it with a tarnished silver Zippo, an action that takes long enough for us to recognize the name “Clive” engraved on its surface. Flipping it shut and tucking it back into his pocket, Indy continues to speak as an exhale of smoke engulfs his face.

Indy: “Now I won’t pretend to understand the demons Colton Saint is dealing with, and I can’t even say that someday I won’t turn out to be as sadistic and broken as he is, but in this moment...this single moment in time...my only intention is to represent my family name and this company by letting honor dictate my actions. So if nothing else, thanks for that lesson, Colton. Thanks for showing me what not to do.”

With the title still balanced on his shoulder, Indy takes a drag from his cigarette before pulling it away from his lips.

Indy: “Having said that, I think I’ve dwelled in the past enough for one week. It’s time to look at the future. If you ask him, John Nash Strader would tell you he’s that future. And if we’re talking about what’s next for yours truly, yeah, I need to keep a match with JNS in the back of my mind. He is the number one contender to the X-Factor Championship, and I’m sure he’s ogling Xavier as if the title was Kimberly Chase in a G-string.”

Indy lifts the cigarette back to his lips, its glowing ember reflected in the lenses of his sunglasses.

Indy: “John, you have had one hell of a start in Project: Honor. When I got here a few weeks before you, I had trouble finding my footing. But you? At first glance it looks like you’ve taken to this place like you were born in it. You’ve also got one hell of a family tree, but then again, a lot of us in Project: Honor were born into this business. In the end, it doesn’t matter what your daddy, or your sisters, or your kissing cousins have done in the ring. Having a wrestling pedigree only gives the announcers something else to talk about. What matters is what you’ve done. And after you get past that first glance...well...you drew a gun on a mentally-stunted postman and wiped your feet on the Project: Honor doormat named Ryan Young.”

Indy flicks the tip off his cigarette and looks off in the distance once again.

Indy: “This week is going to be a different story for you. I can tell you from experience that Sarah Roberts is no doormat. And if you decide to pull your piece out and start waving it at one of us...well...go ahead and shoot, I guess? I mean, I don’t know if you’re really stupid enough to commit murder on a streaming service viewed by millions worldwide, but if so, good luck cashing in that number one contendership from prison.”

Indy looks back at the camera with a nod.

Indy: “Now on to the brains of the team, namely, Caliban. Look man, we’ve done this dance before. You offer to cut my strings, I offer to kick you in the face, yadda, yadda, yadda. We are two entirely different cats, Caliban, but that’s okay. We also seem to be wrestling in the same circles. We debuted at the same time, we met again at Bloodbath, and now we have this tag match at Proving Ground. By this point, I know better than to overlook you or to waste my time with trash talk. You won the first round, Sarah Roberts beat both of us in the second, and now we find ourselves in the third. I’m not a superstitious guy, but if I’m as lucky as my critics have been saying lately, I guess the third time’s a charm for Indy Darling.”

Indy comes to a rest, leaning on the railing of a bridge that crosses over the White River. As the sun begins to set behind him, he also begins to bring his monologue to a close.

Indy: “Last but not least, Sarah Roberts. Look, I’m not into the whole “volatile teammates” thing. I plan on doing my part to make sure we come out of Proving Ground on top, and I can’t imagine you feeling any differently. You beat my ass at the end of Rage in a Cage at Bloodbath, but you also know I’ll give as good as I get. Last week, you capitalized on that win by beating Zane, who without a doubt is one of Project: Honor’s top stars. If you bring half of what you had at Bloodbath or the last Proving Ground, even John Nash Strader will be left wondering who his daddy is.”

“He and Caliban might be asking how I’m so sure of that, and the answer is simple.”

“Because you’re facing Indy Darling and Sarah Roberts...the X-Factor and Warrior Rising Champions...and that’s not just good enough...it’s better than you.”