💣 How We Do Thursday Night In Woodbridge. [v. Gosch/Bauer]

[Crosby Carter]

March 1st, 2018 - Blu Alehouse - Woodbridge, New Jersey
10:00pm

It was Nashville Country Night at Blu Alehouse and the place was packed. Every basic white girl was wearing her best plaid and there was a mechanical bull in the corner, currently throwing a slutty brunette off. This was the usual Thursday night for Carsyn Carrabetta. As she worked her way through a crowd of people, a tray of drinks were balanced on her hand. The flawless blonde was wearing a pair of tiny faux-leather shorts with fishnets underneath. A sleeveless, pink plaid shirt was tied just under her bust and the top buttons were open, exposing her cleavage and black lace bra. Your girl had bills to pay. The outfit was complete with a pair of black combat boots and her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

Carsyn deposited the drinks at a table, giggled at their not-so-funny jokes and headed on to take the next table's order. She plastered that perky smile across her face that brought in the tips and pulled the notepad out of the back pocket of her shorts.

“And how are ya’ll doin’ tonight?” Her voice was chipper and she added a little country twang for the night. She found it added to the customer’s experience and their urge to tip.

“Just fine.”

The deep voice sent a chill down her spine. Carsyn glanced up from her notepad and her mouth was agape. Sitting in front of her were her parents, Carmelo and Addisyn Carrabetta.

“Daddy….” was all that she could muster. Carsyn was supposed to be at NYU finishing her third year of her business degree. Except she dropped out two semesters ago and had been working at this bar and living with Crosby ever since. Shh. It's a secret.

“Save it, pumpkin.” He shot back. “Our accountant was going over our finances. He noticed that you cashed your last two tuition cheques instead of the school. So I made a few calls. You apparently don’t go to NYU anymore. ”

Well, the jig was up. Crosby’s fearless girlfriend stood there in shock. She was frozen in the moment and didn’t know how to respond. There was no way to explain that she hated school and flunked out. Telling them that she had decided to move in with her backyard wrestling boyfriend and his bestie definitely wouldn’t help matters either.

Her mother pursed her lips and leaned towards her daughter. “The tuition cheques stop here. Your accounts are cancelled and so are your credit cards. We will not fund your party-girl lifestyle, Carsyn. Your free ride is over.”

Addisyn’s bitchy tone made Carsyn’s eye twitch with rage. Of course her parents assumed the absolute worst of her. Before she could begin to explain, her parents slid out of the booth and left, leaving their youngest daughter stunned.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

1:00am

House music is pumping through a tiny bungalow-style home somewhere in Woodbridge. Red Solo cups are scattered across the front lawn and Crosby Carter is currently pulling his brother off of some douche. Logan is struggling in his brother’s arms and the guy on the ground is being helped up by his friends. The younger Carter has a bloody nose but bloodier knuckles as he pushes his gorgeous flowing hair out of his face (it runs in the family) and spits in the direction of his foe. He stumbles out of Crosby’s grip and over to Emilia, who is leaning on a bush, basically passed out on this lawn at this point. His older brother simply shakes his head and helps shuffle them into the car.

Just because he’s an Uber driver, Logan seems to think Crosby is his own personal chauffeur. Every Thursday Crosby picks Carsyn up after her shift. And every Thursday he has to stop by some shitshow of a party first to retrieve his little party animal brother.

Finally, Emilia laid out in the backseat of Crosby’s car and Logan is up front as Crosby starts their route home.

“Dude, can you at least keep your fights off the street? If no one can see them, no one can arrest you.” Wise words from the backyard wrestler.

“He said no one in my family could fight, let alone wrestle. You know, that same bullshit Gosch said about how he’s a real technical wrestler and you’re not. I proved him wrong.”

Crosby couldn’t help but smirk. He'd been Logan’s father figure for his whole life, but they were also best friends. Logan shared the same dreams and knowing he had a good punch didn’t hurt his chances.

“Listen, no one wants to see a boring technical wrestler like Gosch anyway, especially not in a place like the Factory. This isn’t a breeding ground for skilled athletes. This is dirty. This is grungy. This is hardcore. Which is exactly where I belong. And exactly where I excel. Thadd and I have been doing this shit for six years, which is longer than Mr. professional wrestler and we know how to put on a fucking show. How to use that environment to our advantage. The fans that come to the Factory come to see blood. One crazy dive or steel chair shot and they’re going to be behind the Flo Bros. Nothing pushes me to my limits like a bunch of drunken maniacs cheering for blood. And once I get going, you know I don’t stop.”

“I’ve legit never seen anyone defeat you with some lame submission. You have this insane ability to never die. I don’t know how you train for that, but you always find a way to survive the most ridiculous bumps - like that one off the roof. It takes bringing you nearly to death to put you down and I don’t think Nora or Gosch have it in them.” It made Crosby proud that he had this weird skill not to die. There was no other way to explain it. He could take a ridiculous amount of punishment and somehow, someway, he would kick out and get back up.

“No fuckin’ way. They can call what we do high risk, but for me it isn’t. I missed that wicked swanton onto a chair a few weeks ago and got right back up. I’ve been punishing my body for years. It’s used to this shit. Gosch and Nora aren’t. They think that they can hang with the Flo Bros, but we’ve been doing hardcore since elementary school. I threw a desk at Thadd once in the fourth grade - just to see what would happen. Bro got back up.” He wasn’t lying. Their teachers loved having the Flo Bros in their class. “I’ve seen lots of technical wrestlers think they can take a chair shot or be thrown through a pane of glass. They crumble once the reality sets in. Once they’re up against a guy who gets real creative in the ring when it comes to chaos. I don’t need a submission to pick someone apart, all I need is an arena full of weapons and my mind starts turning.” Crosby uses his index finger and turns it in circles next to his ear, like you would if someone was crazy. Because he was. But in the best possible way.

Logan simply nods as he leans against the passenger side door. “You are a sick motherfucker with a weapon. And you and Thadd are like the perfect team. Like he’s almost as ripped as me,” Crosby couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Which makes him strong as fuck. Even with a bum hip, he’ll be able to toss that bitch around the ring. And you can jump off anything and everything without fear. They won’t even see you coming. You have this crazy endurance and ability to fight through any situation while Thadd has the stamina to fight ‘till Tuesday. You guys are the perfect balance.”

“We’ve known each other since childhood. He’s my other bro and we’ve been teaming since our start. Inside that ring, we work in tandem. I know his next move before he does and vice versa. We know to incapacitate one partner and then isolate and destroy the other. Tag team work is second nature to us. Gosch is going to be so busy worrying about what we’re doing to Nora that he won’t be able to focus on the task at hand. And if he isn’t focused, the Flo Bros are going to walk away with our first win.”

His little brother shrugged his shoulders with unease. “Well, you’ll have Carsyn out there too.”

The man with the best hair in the business laughed out loud.

“Like I have to worry about her? Cars is the craziest bitch I know.” Normally this would be an insult, but not to C4. “There are no rules in the Factory which means she can get involved whenever she wants. She will jump off any surface or on Graham's back to help us get it done. It’s basically three on two and he isn’t some monster among men who'll be able to overcome those odds. Cars may not be a ‘trained wrestler’ either,” he did air quotes there. “But she has been by my side for almost my entire career. She is the reason that I’m here and I know she’s going to work just as hard as me to make sure it sticks.” You could feel the adoration for Carsyn in his voice. He could never express just how grateful he was that she got him this job.

“Gosch and Nora are going to find out on night one that the Flo Bros are running the factory. Gosch is a douche and Nora is rusty. Thadd may be coming off an injury, but she was out for two years. It’s a lot easier to work a knee than it is to work a hip, especially if I go at it with a fuckin’ steel chair. We aren’t about to let this opportunity slip through our fingers. This is our big break and we’re coming at it with everything we’ve got.”

Emi looked to still be out cold as Crosby pulled up to his childhood home. Crosby glanced back. “Make sure she gets inside okay.” All of a sudden his voice was parental-like.

Logan nodded and got out of the car. As he opened the back door to get Emi out he looked at his brother.

“Don’t tell Thadd.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

3:00 am

Carsyn was sitting on the curb outside of Blu Alehouse with her co-worker, Clementine. They'd just gotten all of the regular drunks out of the bar and finally were able to close up. The Staten Island native was trying to wipe the mascara marks off of her face from the meltdown she had after her parents left.

“You are going to tell him, right?” Clem asked, even though she knew the answer.

Carsyn bit her bottom lip and glanced up at her friend. “I can’t, Clem. Not now. He has the biggest match of his life in four days. I can’t put any more on his plate.”

Debuting in the Factory meant the world to Crosby. Her problems didn’t matter, not right now at least. So if she had to swallow her pain for him, she would.

“So you’re going to lie?” Keeping the secret of sending his tapes in to the Factory almost killed Carsyn. Clementine didn’t know how a lie like this wouldn’t.

“I’m not lying. I’m just not telling the whole story.”

She looked uncertain but at that moment Crosby pulled up. His passenger-side window was down and he waved to Clementine. “Hey Clem! Need a ride?”

She simply shook her head. “I’m good.”

Carsyn slipped into the passenger’s seat and her and Crosby kissed. “How was work, babe?”

He studied her face for a moment, but she painted that fake smile across it. “Great, babe. I’m just exhausted.”