Diary Entry #9: These Heauxs – DYNA$TY
By: Paul Montuori
Writing Prompt: No
Date: 23rd Sep 2021
So I went for a jog today, yes I exercise now. Just to clear my head. Seems everywhere I turn lately I’m sucked into some kind of drama. I don’t get it. I can’t even turn to Dynasty because the beef with Joe and Michelle is getting worse. They hate each other. I don’t blame Michelle though, Joe was a huge dick to her in Focus. Not sure exactly why. I was in a haze of drugs and alcohol hanging out with Brandon back then. And Stephen when he went on his sort of pretend bender. Whatever it was, Michelle didn’t deserve it.
Things aren’t great between us. Since she went back with Brandon, and the baby. Don’t get me wrong, I love Ezra. But.. I don’t know. Seems like we’ve been at each other’s throats lately. More than usual. And I think it’s mostly my fault. I was acting like a huge dick to her. Being rude for no reason. I don’t know why. Well, I think I know why. But that’s not important. I have to make it right with her..
Joe has been on some other shit lately. One week he was with ARP, the next he’s with a Doe. Who then is ‘allegedly’ attacked by Sahara and thrown through a coffee table. Ended up in the hospital. And then Joe showed up at FIGHT! Headquarters, threatening to shoot up the place and kill Sahara. I think he was wasted, or so the PR team spinned it. I wouldn’t put it past Joe to have actually done it. I don’t blame him. Sahara is rude as fuck. For no reason. But she’s somehow friends with Michelle. And she has something with Ricky, I don’t know what. So I’ll have to put on my fake smile, probably the same fake ass smile she’ll have, if I ever see her. Like my girl Michelle said, nah the other one, ‘When they go low, you get high.” That’s not right..
With Ascension coming up right after Venom, my mind is everywhere. I know I should be focusing on Venom #10, on Dickie Watson, my Empire belt. But it’s hard knowing all the teams going into the PPV are going to be looking for an upper hand. No way the Cure doesn’t try and pull some shit before the PPV. Between Brandon and Apathy, sneaky fucks. Dane and Joe’s beef is still going, which means we’re all beefing with fYa. You even got Dickie’s new little crew with Warstein, who secretly loves me, and two babes. They’re trying to make a name for themselves too. I could see them coming after me, trying to soften me up before Venom 10. Not gonna happen though. I got Cousin Guiseppe flying some more cugini’s in from the homeland for extra security. All the other teams in Ascension would attack me beforehand. I’m the stud of it all. I would never do something like that. I’m above that. Not like these.. These heauxs..
“Hey Paulie, can I get a picture?” I’m brought back to reality, finding myself standing in front of my building. Crazy I went on autopilot. I look over to see a guy who looks super excited to see me. I wave him over. He hands me a silver marker and asks me to sign his t-shirt, my newest FIGHT! joint fresh off the presses manned by Dane Preston. A clause in his contract states he has to print all the shirts. Guess X wanted to make sure he got his money’s worth.
“Appreciate the love,” I say, all cool as fuck as I hand him back the pen. We take a quick selfie, I look handsome as fuck in any angle and he’s off. I turn back to go inside when I’m stopped by someone else. Rinse and repeat.
Rinse and repeat.
Rinse and repeat.
Rinse and repeat.
Fuck, what time is it?
Fame’s a weird thing. Like, everyone wants to be famous for something. In this day, most get it from the dumbest shit. But only the crazy few actually enjoy it once they have it. The constant barrage from the public. While it’s mostly all love, it can be overwhelming at times. I remember at the height of my Oscar nomination, before I opened my mouth and ruined everything, I couldn’t move two steps without someone spotting me. Wanting a picture. Hitting me with an elevator pitch. Looking to have my baby..
That’s why I started to become a recluse. I loved being ridiculous and outlandish and not giving a fuck. But completely impossible to do when your every move is recorded. At least if you want to have any kind of career where you rely on the public to pay your way.
But once those cameras went away. Once the people stopped recognizing me. Stopped bugging me for pictures. Oof. Talk about a low. You forget how much you crave fame. How much you need that fame. Forget how great it is to get extra cheesy bread with your order. Or have every shallow female like Sahara throw themselves at you. When you’re sitting in your dope ass crib in the Hills of Hollywood, and the only broads you can get over are Sahara’s age, bruh.. Fame is a motherfucker..
It’s weird to see it begin again. But from a different set of eyes. I’ve been here, seen that. Cool to see sort of sit back and enjoy it before it gets ridiculous. With so much time passed before anyone gave two fucks about me, I’m sort of digging the attention. The positive attention. I used to get a lot of hate when I was the old me. A mixed back of goods. But lately, been getting love from everyone. All walks of life. Even crazy, love from moms. Those were my biggest enemies. Those are the people you don’t want to be on their shitlist. But the moms love me meow. Maybe it has to do with me buying into hash tag me too, is that still a thing though? Probably due to having Madison around. I probably look all sexy to the ladies, like that dad from Problem Child. Part Two that dood got all the free meals. Had the ladies from all over clamoring to have him taste their casseroles. And pu.. Vaginas too..
I finally break free and head back upstairs, and back into my office. But of course without washing my hands. Wait, Covid’s a thing right?
I sit in the office, feet up on the desk. Drink in my hand. I have a marijuana cigar, also known as a blunt, in my other hand. I’m completely unsure of whether or not I should light it. Like, I know Madison must’ve heard stories about me. Must’ve Youtubed some of my videos. Had to of, right? And if she had, dear God, poor girl. She’s stronger for making it through them. Which means she saw that I’m not exactly the soberest person. Dane Preston wouldn’t pick me as a sponsor. He’d end up off the wagon, back working the piers for loose change to buy himself his next drink. Sort of like Adyn from Moment in Life. Who’s Adyn? Exactly..
Little cross promotion never hurt anybody..
So why does it feel so weird to smoke the devil’s lettuce in my own home. I paid for this. Well, my mommy paid for it.. This is mine. If I want to burn in my own damn home, I should be able to. Without the fear of what a pretween girl is going to think about it. I’m Paul Montuori dammit. The next Empire Champ. The next face of FIGHT!, and what a beautiful face it is.. But I guess I’m trying to live up to some unrealistic example of what a father should be. Like Carl Winslow, or the dad from Boy Meets World, or the dad from Step by Step. Actually more like the guy that lived in the backyard. Corey?
My phone buzzes awake. FIGHT! calling me again. Geez, that’s like the third time in a row. Of course I’m not going to answer it. Out of principle. I’m a star. I shouldn’t have to answer my own calls. I have people for that. People like..
“Alessandra!” I called out. Dammit, I knew I should’ve gotten one of those bells to ring. Or intercom. If only there was a device I could use to summon her.. Instead I have to get up from my comfortable chair and go looking for her like a peasant. “Alessandra! Alessandra!”
No way am I getting up to go find her. I’m so comfortable. I should probably have her make me a drink too. I’m getting low. Maybe two so I don’t have to get up for a minute. I’m a star, I’ve actually been training lately. I should be allowed to relax. Kick back..
“Jesus Christ Paulie, I was in the bathroom. Two minutes,” Alessandra says as she barges in with a hint of annoyance in her voice. Why was she annoyed with me? I thought I could Bezos her, who needs bathroom breaks?
“FIGHT!’s been calling me, trying to talk to me,” I say, holding up my phone as it suddenly starts ringing. “See! It’s like non-stop, bordering on harassment.”
“Well, why don’t you answer it?”
“Why don’t I answer it? Do you forget who I..”
And with that she snatches the phone from my hand and answers it. I nervously wait in anticipation. It has to be something good. Really good. Like Christmas morning when ya got that Super Nintendo. Super Mario 3 with the feather was dope.
“They want to know who the Captain of Dyna$ty is for Ascension. And who’s on the team,” she says. Huh? That’s it?
“Didn’t I already tell them?”
“Me, Joe, Michelle, Ricky and Austin. Cause Austin is crazier of the Ramsey-Tabors. Tabor-Ramseys..”
“Well, I think they want to know what your plan is to make who’s on the team public.”
“Can’t they just announce it?”
“Plus they’re saying that Dynasty is lagging behind with no direction. No oomph. Hasn’t really made an impact. I believe they said that if you wanted to be big dogs, that you should be trying to dominate the show.”
“Firstly, ouch. Second, who said that?”
“Does it matter? It’s kinda true,” I hear Madison say as I turn around to see her standing before me out of nowhere. Like a fucking Ravenclaw.
“Bullshit it ain’t true.”
“What’s the last impactful thing they’ve done?” she asks. She already knows the answer, why’s she asking me?
“Geez Dad, Venom #7. Dynasty fought with everyone in the ring. It’s like you don’t even pay attention.”
“And we’re on..”
“Right. And it’s me and..” Come on, spit it out kid. Don’t leave me hanging.
“VooDoo,” she says.
“Voo? Really?” I say. Oh do me and her have some hiiiiiistory chile. We go back. But our last uh, ‘meeting’ with each other was the highlight. Even though I couldn’t lay on my back for a while. She’s gotta cut them nails.
“Ew gross,” Madison says, breaking my train of thought.
“You’re being gross.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. Your face says it all. Please don’t tell me you had sex with her too.”
“Too? Do I look like someone who’s promiscuous?” The look on her face tells me she’s not buying it. What was I supposed to say? That Voo ate me like a cupcake? I was puddy in her hands. Class was definitely in session and your boy became a man. And this was in OPW, less than a year ago. That’s a woman. “Whatever, whoever I’ve dated is none of your concern.”
“Whatever. Michelle already told me.”
“Of course she did. Voo and I have been co-workers for many years. There was only one instance in the many years, which does not tarnish the regard in which I hold her. Did I say that right? Because the regard I hold her is high as fuck.”
“OK,” Madison says, confused as fuck. I’m so confused now too. Vincenzo. My angel. His ex. I can’t hold her in high regard, maybe medium regard? How do I play this now? Vincenzo is so amazing he wouldn’t care what regard I held Voo. Right? He’s too cool for that, too smooth to be bothered by such silly shit like exes. Plus he has kids with her. And Voo’s cool. Right? I really should pay attention more..
“Dad, you’re doing it again,” Madison says, again breaking my train of thought.
“Sorry, I just find myself in a precarious position. A real pickle of a situation. You wouldn’t understand.” She wouldn’t. She’s just a kid.
“Is it because you have a crush on Vincent Black, who’s ex-wife and mother of his children is Voodoo, whom you are facing and also respect?”
“Wow that was.. I think it’s a little more than a crush.”
“What? You really have a c..”
“What? Wait, Vhodka stabbed Voo at first Blood Money. And they fought each other at Tag Wars. Costing each other tons of dinero de sangre. Somehow that complicates things.”
“It does. It completely throws a monkey wrench into the entire situation. But how?”
“Dad, you’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”
“You are. If you respect Voodoo that much, give her a good match. Don’t hold back. She’ll respect you for it. And so will Vin. And if he doesn’t, he’s not worth having a crush on.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is. It really is.”
“No, it goes beyond that.”
“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” she says as she storms off. But if she only knew how this wasn’t so simple. It can’t be that simple. Not with all the feelings that are involved. I have to stick it to Voodoo now. Vhodka just exclaimed the other day that she hated Voo. I’m pretty sure she said ‘Fucka bitch’ or ‘Cuta bitch’ or.. You get it. But then I don’t want to harm sweetie Vincenzo’s baby momma. Regardless of how they feel with each other, they will always have a bond with each other. I don’t want to do the wrong thing. What a pickle..
“So.. Do you want me to have them call you back?” I look over at Alessandra who’s standing, still holding the phone. She looks like she’s completely over my bullshit. Just then Devante comes strolling in.
“Aye Paulie, Michelle’s downstairs.”
“Yeah tell them I’ll call them back,” I say as I down the drink and put the cigar in the desk drawer. I make my way downstairs and push the glass doors outside onto the street. Michelle is standing next to Madison, who’s holding Ezra in her arms.
“We’ll be back first thing in the morning. I programmed all the emergency numbers in your phone when you fell asleep the other night. We’ll still be in the City so if there’s anything call me. Geezus this is a huge mistake,” Michelle says as she nervously bites her nail.
“Bruh, we’re good. I’m a great dad. I did a great job with Madison,” I say, reassuring her.
“Great job with Madison? You’ve been a dad for like three weeks.”
“And look how far she’s come.”
“It’s OK Michelle, go. I’ll be in charge,” Madison says.
“Well duh. This guy can barely put on his pants,” Michelle says as they both laugh. Whatever.
Michelle starts to tell Madison about baby stuff. Boring. I turn around to see a blacked out SUV parked. Must be the car that Michelle came in. I walk over to the window and try to look in. Bruh did they paint these windows black? Suddenly the window opens an inch or so, only revealing a pair of sunglasses. The sunglasses move up, revealing the eyes of Brandon Moore staring at me. It spooks me so much I jump back and let out a manly scream. Michelle and Madison turn to see where the problem is. I point to the Brandon but the window is already back up.
“Are you fucked up?” Michelle asks.
“No, I only had one drink.”
“Just one. For the nerves.”
“Michelle, it’s OK. Really. Go. I got this.”
“Alright, P shut the fuck up before you say something dumb again.. Bye Ezra, I love you baby,” Michelle says as she kisses Ezra. She turns around and points a finger in my face before getting into the SUV. It takes off as I wave away to it. I turn to Madison.
“Soo.. Do I have to breastfeed the baby or..”