The Disappearance: Chapter 1

The Disappearance: Chapter 1

Things were tough on the road, though nothing in the wrestling industry had ever came easy to anyone. Dwyer, just like the rest of the Core roster, was experiencing some tough times. He'd just signed weeks ago and already the amount of time and commitment necessary was taking the toll on his body, but he would never admit that to anyone. It was visible, but when asked, he'd deny it, saying he felt fine.

But when each week would come to an end, he couldn't wait to get the opportunity to rush home. Especially this time, not being home in the past two weeks, and hoping to patch things up with Kristen, getting home was looking greater every moment he thought of it. Two weeks of pain, not talking to her, and having them both on the nerves of one another wasn't how he liked to spend his time away, and now, hopefully things could be resolved and continue how they've always been. At least, that's what he had hoped…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the corridor of the condominium building, heavily echoing footsteps are heard from the nearby staircase, followed by the opening of the heavy steel door, separating the staircase from the main floor. Emerging from the door dressed in just a suit and tie, with his duffel bag hanging off his right shoulder, was Core superstar Pat Dwyer. His face is red and wind burned from the frosty wind chill of -29C in the streets of Toronto, seeming to have just returned from another journey.

As he continues down the hallway, fumbling in his pockets for his keys, he notices the decorative format that has changed since his last return home. The edges of the ceiling has dangling red icicle lights, and on his front door, condo 526, and a giant green wreathe, completed with a red bow. It'd been a while obviously since he'd seen his home, and was somewhat disappointed that he's missed out already on the Christmas festivities.

He slides his card key along the censor, and the room door automatically draws open. All is dark, but faintly through the glass door, which leads to his living room, a brightly glowing Christmas tree, lit up with a combination of red/green lights, a marvelous wonder to look at. His house has all been taken over in Christmas spirit, that he sadly missed out on helping to decorate.

The emptiness in the place he calls home however has made him feel somewhat uneasy, as he looks around, walking through the kitchen, and noticing there isn't a soul to be found within his household. Puzzled by this, since Kristen usually doesn't take off anywhere. When continuing to browse around the kitchen, something catches his eye, hanging from the fridge door.

A white envelope taped onto the fridge door, with PAT written in pen, at a well-distinguished size. Immediately he becomes curious of the contents, and rips it open without a second thought.

"A note from Kristen?" He wonders to himself.

Unfolding the letter, it reveals a page full of small but concise print, all hand written in blue, hardly readable since the only light source was that of the Christmas tree a room over. Dwyer, anxious to read what the letter may reveal to him, walks over to the nearby kitchen table, clearing some space for him to place the letter and comfortably read.

He fixates his eyes down on the letter, surprised at the amount of writing there is. Then, once getting into it starts to recite it to himself.

Pat,

Now I know you haven't been home for weeks, and you're probably disappointed at not seeing me when you walked in the door. I'd wanted to talk our troubles out in person the night that you walked out, but by the time you came back you had to leave, and having you leave in the middle of such a vital conversation could hurt things more then help them. My plan was to wait until you returned, had cooled off, because I know we have a great understand with one another.

But, there then came a problem. Usually I wouldn't resort to it, but that night I was so upset I was unable to be alone, sitting there by myself trying to sleep was nothing more then a struggle, so I did the only thing a young woman knew to do, I called my mother for advice. Now you know how it is with all girls and their relationships with mothers, they nothing but 100% trust for them. That's what I thought at least, but things didn't work out how I'd hoped.

However, despite my hopes of my mother being understanding, and trying her best to help me out while I'm in need, she and my father both reacted in a way that was very unexpected, in a way. They'd immediately went into action, calling me back after discussing the problems I presented to my mother. My father was the one on the phone when I answered it, the first words out of his mouth were: "That's it young lady, you're coming home right now!"

Hearing these words, I was shocked, unable to know how to react, and before I could say a word, he'd hung up, and to my greatest amount of knowledge, must be on his way this moment to try and drag me home. When the thought first came across my mind, I thought he must be bluffing, but when my mom called me back, maybe half an hour after he'd left the house, she told me that he was serious. Also telling me it'd be in my best interest to start packing my things, so I've done all I can, obey the commands of my father.

I'm unable to understand what has drove him to this limit, I didn't think our fight was anything to obsess or worry over. But then I remembered when I had first met you, in a club in Boston, just over 2 years ago, while you were still touring with the XCWF. That night, though I had just met you, evidently to me you were seemingly too drunk to make off on your own. So I offered for you to stay at my place, on the couch, figuring it wouldn't be a problem. The fact that you were a nice guy and friendly seemed good enough reason for me to let you do this, but maybe I was young and stupid at the time.

It's unknown to you what happened that day since you had went off to the arena in the morning, not getting a chance to even meet my parents. To me it looked as if they didn't know you'd even stayed over, but once you were gone, they made sure that it was dead set in my head that they knew.

I’d never thought much of their opinion, but that day all I heard was warnings from them. They'd told me to not get involved with someone famous, there's too much controversy, or bring up the fact many celebrities can't hold up steady relationships, such as how Brittany Spears had her 24hour marriage, or just random celebrities that go from one fling to another. Since that day, it'd always be repeated to me that things with you wouldn't work out, but I fought to keep things steady between us, though my parents didn't appreciate it much.

Things visibly over the past two years even for them, they thought maybe I had proven them wrong for good. Never were there any problems between us, well nothing that's uncommon for a couple to have. The odd fight about little things, the things that don't matter much to anyone, but we'd still nit pick at one another about. But right when things seemed too perfect, and you rejoined the wrestling industry, things began to go downhill.

You having less spare time, me spending time in loneliness, and worst of all, the only times I'd seen you come home, we did nothing but fight, that's when we began to crumble. And the one time I thought I could trust my mom, who to most girls can be seen as a best friend, for advice, things don't swing the way I'd thought. The petty arguments we've had about you're future and career had caused many problems yes, but nothing major to me. However, to my parents, having you walk out on me, like you did that one-night weeks ago seemed to be the first and last straw. Their reaction was nothing but fuming, and my father is on his way to grab me as I write.

Right now, I feel as if I'm a little girl, still being treated like I can't control my own life, or make my own decisions, but maybe my parents know what's best, maybe things between us have diminished. Leaving nothing but painful arguments, which had left us both having to set off alone afterwards. Unfortunately, though I will try, this will possibly be the last contact I'll ever have with you. My father will no longer allow me to accept phone calls from you, even meeting you in person would be next to impossible. As I said, I truly feel like I'm being treated like a child again, and knowing the strictness of him, he'll be having his watch over me from now until the day he dies.

Overprotective you'd think? All would agree to that, but at this moment there is nothing to settle him down. This would because when he sees his daughter, almost in tears, he also feels a moment of weakness, sharing my pain, making it his own. I wouldn't suggest you to try and contact me, most likely it'd hurt me more then help. There is tons more I wish I could tell you, but I must depart. Never have I felt such pain, or despised the wishes of my father, but nevertheless, there's nothing I can do, and I must obey his orders.

-Kristen

PS: I'll remember you forever and always, with love and happiness fulfilling my thoughts, because those will be the only moments of happiness I may ever feel again.

After finishing the letter, Dwyer continues looking over it, physically and emotionally stunned with what has just occurred. At the end of the letter, something that didn't catch his eye before now had his undivided attention. Just underneath the signing of Kristen's name, were a few speckles of now dried substance, which appeared in the form of tears. He couldn’t' imagine the trauma she'd be going through, but the pain he felt now was overwhelming

Never in his wildest dreams would he ever think that the one he loves would slip away so quickly, right under his nose, while he's been away doing what he desires most. If he had known that this may have happened, never would he have left things without being resolved, but really, what could he possibly do now to make up for his mistake?

The answer being what he was told not to do, he pulls out a small device from his pant pocket, which can now be distinguished as a cell phone. Looks at the time, he realizes that it's 1:30, but nonetheless pushes #1, it speed dials Kristen's cell phone number, and the ring tone kicks in. Someone is heard picking up the phone, but no answer came from the other side.

"Hello?" Dwyer gently speaks into his phone, sounding confused that there was no instant reply or greeting when he first dialed the number and got through.

"And look who it is, just the person I expected to call…" A distinctly male voice replies to Dwyer's confused greeting. Awaiting the reaction of him, this is all that has been said.

This is how it was all seeming to begin. The first instinct Dwyer had at this point was to hang up, forget about it, but his astonishing amount of desire to make his way through this would not allow him to do so. His desire to get a chance to talk to Kristen, to plot and find a way to get to see her again, these were all valued high in his priorities. Never before had he admitted to this, but she was a major part of him, and these moments already without her were painfully cutting him deep.

"What's that boy? Got nothing to say?" The voice questioned, sounding very deep and serious in tone.

Dwyer gulped, kind of nervous, not knowing what to say. His nerves were getting the best of him, and just for the fact that he knew who was on the other side of that line, Kristen's father, it made it that much more difficult to find the words to say. It'd be the first time he'd ever said more to the man then a 'Hi' or 'How are you doing?' but it had to be done.

"Umm…this has to be the right number. May I please talk to Kristen?" Dwyer asks politely, trying to persuade him to possibly just hand the phone over.

"I already told you I know who this is, it's you, the Dwyer boy! What are you calling for kid? Trying to upset my little girl again? Get her into an argument about how you think your career is so much more important then keeping her happy?" Her father using words to try and challenge Dwyer to speak. "What are you gonna tell me? Wrestling has always been your desire? You live for it? I've heard it all from her, but really, what kind of man puts his career before his love?"

Dwyer was stuck for words at this point; he's being challenged by someone not only older and wiser then him, but much more powerful. Saying the wrong thing could result in terrible consequences, and thus far, the man had him stumped.

"That's what I thought, lost for words? I knew you weren't enough of a man to explain yourself to me, hell, I doubt you even have the guts to explain to my daughter what's on your mind. Maybe you should call back when you grow some balls kid!" A nasty tone is embarked in the man's voice, and it sounds as if he's ready to depart, bored from the lack of conversation created here.

Hearing this in his mind, he begins pacing back in forth in the kitchen, still not leaving the room since he'd came across the horrific letter. Pacing was something that when he was stumped, would usually clear his mind, but in this instance, hearing the words 'grow some balls' was enough to get him fired up about things.

"I tried to ask politely, but I think you better fuckin' put Kristen on the phone if you know what's good for you!" Dwyer yells into the phone, his emotions getting the best of him, forcing him to use profanity, which is a very uncharacteristic, move of he, who usually believes profanity to be a weapon of the weak.

"Aha, you're too much!" He replies with a chuckle, being entertained by the sudden lash out of Dwyer. "Am I starting to get under your skin? Can't take the truth can you?"

Dwyer still is pacing throughout his condo, but now walking out of the kitchen, stressed already about what's going on in the conversation that's been getting him no where. Still stumped on what to do, his emotions are already taking over and getting the best of him, which will be the cause of anything to come.

"I'm pretty sure you were pretty deep under my skin before you got on the phone with me. How wouldn't you be? I was away on the road, and I come home to find my girlfriend captured from my home by her own father? Not exactly something I'd expect to come upon once getting back from my road trip…" Dwyer exclaims, letting his emotions be expressed, but somewhat controlling them, trying not to show his weakness on the situation at hand.

"Wait a minute, if you just got home, how the hell would you know what's going on? It's not like you have someone that keeps track of who comes and goes from your apartment, who told you I took'er back?" Anger is overcoming the man, now having him furious, almost as if Dwyer shouldn't answer his question.

"Maybe it's beyond your knowledge, but most people up here in Canada at least usually leave a note to one another when leaving the house, that way the other knows what's going on, where their going to be, when they'll return. That sort of thing…" Pat replies in a smart-ass tone, maybe not the best way to act towards an angered father.

"A LETTER! I told'er not to make any contact with you…!"

"Daddy, who are you talking to at this hour?" A whimpering female voice is heard, the one that Dwyer wished to have heard when he walked in his front door not long ago. He is suddenly more aware after hearing this voice, and wishing if only he could talk to her right now.

"Hey, why don't you let me talk to her since she's there?" Dwyer quickly remarks, trying to get the attention of her father away from her and onto the topic at hand, his wishes to speak with her.

"The man that you left a LETTER for!" He states to her, answering her question yet ignoring the suggestion created by Pat. He sounds very angry and edgy at the moment, already pushed to his edge.

"He told you!" She says in awe, gasping, her voice barely heard by him. "Why would he ever do such a thing? I thought I told him to keep that to himself! I thought he'd listen to my warning…"

Hearing this, it's as if Dwyer's entire world has collapsed right before his eyes. He trembles at the thought that he disobeyed the wishes of Kristen, being ignorant during a time of his own emotional lash out.

"So please sir, may I talk to her?" He asks, now sounding much more forgiving and just hoping he gets an opportunity to speak to her, maybe even just apologize to her.

"What'd I tell you already! You aren't talking to her, I don't give a damn what you have to say, because as of tonight, she's cut off from talking to ANYONE! You might as well just get up, because you're not getting through me, meaning you aren't getting the opportunity to speak with her." The father yells, still as he has been forever now refusing to allow him to speak with her, and the reasoning seeming absurd to any normal person, but he seems to be different. No one knows what possesses him to be so protective, and he doesn't seem to be the type to share that kind of information, not to Dwyer at least.

"Give up? Sure…maybe I will do just that for tonight. But be forewarned I will definitely not be giving up for good. Someday you'll have to let your guard down, and when that day comes is when she and I may speak again." Dwyer states with confidence, thinking to himself that the man may not always govern over her, he must have a life of his own too.

And that'd be his plan. Dwyer was now taking things into his own hands, and also hoping that her father had other things to do besides protect his daughter from him. Calling at different time periods he figured would possibly solve these problems, but for now, there was nothing he could do. So with things being that way, Dwyer put his cell phone back into his pocket, and walked back to his bedroom.

In the bedroom, he flicks on the light switch, and already he noticed there were many things different then the last time he'd entered. The two full oak standstill dressers were now both empty, the drawers pulled open, and the pictures that used to lie on top were also removed. His whole bedroom looking like it'd been torn apart, the panic she must've been in to pack would've been fairly large. Anything and everything she'd owned had been removed, leaving nothing more then a dresser full of Dwyer's close, and the odd picture he may have framed and hung up around the room.

Already upon stepping in, the room feels empty to him. But the day of travelling and night of shock have taken it's toll on him, and he must retire to try and sleep it off, hoping that tomorrow he could wake up, finding this all to be a dream. Obviously it won't work, but he can always hope.

Dwyer grabs the light switch, flicking it back off, leaving him in complete and utter darkness. He cannot be seen, but is heard undressing and entering his bed. Though it may not be blatantly obvious to all, not much sleep will be done tonight, but he will try to get any ounce of it his mind will allow him. For tomorrow, he will once again depart to the great sea of the wrestling world, and personal problems are not very helpful while attempting to focus.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The cold morning could be felt within the bedroom, the furnace most likely not turned on. Dwyer is seen rolled up on the bed, tightly grasping his covers, the cold being an enormous factor on him right now. The silence of the room is unbarring, but a familiar ring tone is heard, faintly, the cell phone buried in his pant pocket! With the room temperature just above freezing, he is not moving, a phone call to him at this point and time doesn't seem as equally important as saving himself from freezing his balls off!

"Wait a minute…that could be…!" He thinks quickly, leaping out of his bed as fast as he can, and finding his pants on the other side of the room, the ring now stopped. Still places his hand in the right pocket, pulling out his cell phone, and flipping it open to read the call display. It wasn't a phone call like he thought, but a text message being left. It read:

To: ###-###-####
I told you not to tell him…:(
From: Kristen
A million conclusions have already jumped to the mind of Dwyer. What had he done? Was she hurt or just emotionally scarred? What could he have possibly done to her? Deciding to implement his plan of calling her while her father may not be around, he dials the number of her cell phone. It dials and rings a couple times, with no one answering. After another few rings, the voice mail clicks on.

"Hey it's Kristen, can't come to the phone right now, if you want just leave a message with your name and…"

Knowing this attempt has failed, he hangs up the phone, saying he will just try again another time. Looking at the clock, which reads 11:37 AM, he decides sleep is no longer an option, and he must get ready to depart. In this trip being home, he hasn't even had the opportunity to unpack, and as he is about to get into the shower, the phone rings once again. Rushing with anticipation that it could be her, he grabs it and flicks it open, pushing the answer button, not even looking to see whose calling him.

"Hello?" He talks into the phone quickly, excitement getting the best of him.

"Hey Pat, its Chris. Glad you're excited I called. Remember, we have to get moving to Little Rock today, just thought I'd tell you I'd be dropping by in a few hours. See you then alright?" Chris states, sending this compilation of information to Dwyer. As his agent, Chris Coe would always call to check up, and always want to come on the road with him.

"Yeah alright…" Dwyer says, excitement lost from his tone.

"Is something the matter?" Chris wonders, noticing the dramatic change in tone from the first conversation speech to the next.

"Nah, everything's fine buddy. I'll see you soon!" Pat ends the conversation, flipping his phone shut, and heading off to get ready.

He didn't seem to want to share what's been going on with Chris, maybe he won't want to share it with anyone. Keeping everything to himself for now, he departed to the shower, it was going to be quite a journey unfolding in front of him, from this moment forward.