Punk Country

"Pft. You'll forgive Me If I didn't bother to let the world know that the love of my life left me and hooked up with her best friend who used to trust me and love me like Family. The Texan shot back bitterly at Taylor with a strong attitude that would gradually grow weak at the end of his sentence as he remained slumped against the building with his head down. He began to crave more whiskey as a knee jerk reaction to the flood of emotions that he began to pour out to Taylor, having kept his problems and troubles bottled up to himself for so long and never talking about them until now with this girl from Friction who seemed to open that door.

"And I know who you are! Ms. Parker!" He declared loudly as he lifted his head and drunkenly pointed his finger at Taylor as if accusing her of a crime, taking a few wobbly, drunken steps away from the building he leaned on to approach Taylor until he was about 3 or 4 feet away. "I know you called the woman I loved a horrible person without truly knowing her. I know you had beef with two people I loved like Family: Cecilia and Adrian. I know you insulted My sister, Bonnie! Callin' her ugly for no fuckin' reason! So yeah! I'm aware you know and Hate everyone that USED to be my Family... [size=85:27kpf2z8]Now it's a family without me..." Clyde would let out angrily towards this person he had never met but had developed a deep dislike for long before this encounter. But perhaps Clyde was being unfair in the instance regarding his Sister, for he did talk trash on several members of the AFW for no reason other than for a few laughs.

Clyde then lowered his head once more and stumbled back away from Taylor, hitting his back hard on the front wall of the bar before he slumped down to the ground below, knees and boots pointing up towards the sky as he sat there. A near-washed up drunken mess that would laugh lightly when Taylor asked if he was drinking himself to death now before adding 'That's Cool'. Her suggestion to workout like her boyfriend Johnny though made Clyde emit a frown of disgust and turn his head to the side away from Taylor. "Pft." Clyde felt that he was again being reminded that women seem to prefer the same kind of guys that he was jealous of because of the ovations they got from the fans in the arena. The Higurashi Twins, Fredrik Northman, Dante Sunderland and even Tai Kamiya. Just about everyone of them, the ladies drooled over. He knew he was ugly as shit and only getting worse by the moment.

"...But I ain't your Johnny, lady. I'm Me. I ain't got the will to do that kinda stuff anyway... Prolly too damn drunk to do a decent pushup anyway, heh." He'd say bitterly at first before his tone would get a bit lighter to make the sad joke.

Taylor discretely slid one foot back and put a slight bend in her knees when Clyde came toward her, afraid that she'd end up having to fight him. She was ready, mostly by force of habit, but she wasn't about to fight this pint-sized, sloppy drunk dude if she didn't have to.

Of course, if she did have to, she'd fuck him up.

She couldn't argue with Clyde and his list of grievances with her. She wasn't going to apologize for any of it, either. Cecelia fed into it just as much as she did, and Heather was a bitch. Granted, she'd never met Bonnie, but that was a long time ago and you can't take every little thing said in the ring that seriously.

"Wow." She remarked as he slid back down to the sidewalk again. "You're a sad sack of shit, Mr. Twenty-Four-Seven champ. I guess you're small enough that you can hold on to that belt by just hiding from everyone. Do what you gotta, do, ya know?" She looked him over. "You don't even have that belt WITH you, is that even allowed?" It didn't matter. But... he was in Tension. Maybe he knew...

"Hey, so, in Tension, do you know Johnny?" She was just curious.

[size=85:swwkts48]"No shit, Sherlock..." Clyde grumbled to himself bitterly when Taylor called him a sad sack of shit, ignoring the rest of her words after rolling his eyes, like he really needed a lecture from Taylor Parker of all people.

"Prolly not." Clyde would respond to Taylor's question regarding the belt, honestly not caring much about his status as champion as much anymore. Though in truth, last night he just wanted to drink in peace and not bother with the damn thing, he didn't want people gawking at him and the belt or someone trying to take it. He just wanted to be left alone that night. Well he did until he saw Mercy. And that ended up a disaster.

Clyde perked his head up though when he heard Taylor ask him about Johnny. He responded honestly. "Heard of em, but I don't know him personally. I only know his brother, Mamouru. Why you askin'?"

Taylor shrugged. "I dunno. Just, ya know... making conversation or something." She said. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and mopped the sweat off her forehead with it. She had caught her breath and was feeling pretty good, and pretty spent. It was a longer run than she was used to, and her pace stayed pretty quick for the distance she ran. It felt good, and not even the depressing puddle of a guy slumped against the wall of a bar could bring her down.

She clasped her hands behind her, straightened her arms and arched her back to stretch her shoulders, and tossed her hair back out of her face. "So..." She said. She felt awkward about just leaving, though she wasn't sure why. "Want me to go beat Heather's ass for you?" She offered, to throw both Clyde and their conversation a bone. "I'll be honest, man, I don't like her. She just rubs me the wrong fucking way, ya know? No offense or anything. Her and Cecelia. And don't you dare say a fuckin' thing about that goddamn match. Fuck that noise, man. What a goddamn fluke." She said with a scowl and her Long Island, Tri-State accent coming through clear and thick. "Those mothafuckers couldn't fight their way out of a goddamn paper bag. Which, I guess, makes me less than a paper bag, and I guess after the way things went against that snake chick... Shit, man, you're depressing nonsense is rubbing off on me, keep that shit to yourself."

Though Clyde was lost in his own sea of depression, he would quickly exit it at Taylor's offer, his eyes would go wide as he sat up instantly, looking at Taylor with a stare of disbelief while his mouth hung open just a bit, not knowing why the hell this woman would even think to offer that to him. Sure he wasn't talking to them anymore but still he cared alot for them.

"Beat her ass...? Huh? Naw! Hell Naw! Naw, I don't want you go after Heather! I'm the one who fucked up, alright!? And I honestly don't care if you don't like her or Cec! I don't wanna hear it! I ain't gonna just stand here and let you talk shit about people I care about, regardless of what happened, okay!? I don't even wanna talk about THEM right now, alright!? None! Please!" Clyde would let out with a mix of torn emotions. He knew he still cared about everyone, despite what had occurred and the now obvious realization that everyone had moved on without him so easily like they didn't ever care. But who could blame Cecilia after he tried to start a fight with Fredrik when he swore not to. Still, he wasn't going to just listen to Taylor talk bad about people had a lingering attachment to, even if they were gone.

Clyde then tried to bring the conversation back to Johnny since it was clear Taylor wasn't going to enjoy much more of Clyde's now depressing life. Still Clyde thought maybe he could teach Taylor a bit of a lesson in regards to the way she had offended him earlier.

"So! You with that ol' Higurashi boy, Johnny, right!?" He'd ask. "Tell me does he Train with Hookers or does he just use you 'cuz he doesn't wanna bother with expenses? Said Clyde with a smug, douchebag grin, letting his words sink in for a moment before he spoke again.

"...Or... He actually knows how to Wrestle, right? Slams and Headlocks and all that, huh? Prolly a decent guy too, Huh? Why would you think I'd be any different besides the booze? And what makes your league any different from mine when both like to have girls creamin' on the goddamn canvas?" He'd ask her in a serious manner.

"Oh, burn." Taylor said flatly, clearly unimpressed by Clyde's attempt at trash talk.

"Whatever, man, I don't care about what they do in Friction, I just care about my next fight." Taylor said. "And that's gross."

Taylor was pretty uncomfortable. She really just wanted an excuse to leave. She was planning on hanging out in her park for a bit before making the walk home. She liked the night air, and being separate from the city noise. It helped her relax. But this guy was seriously stepping on her relaxation. She didn't need to stand around and start shit with some hick.

"A'right, man, it's been fun, I gotta take off. Try to puke in the grass or something. Good luck not getting your ass kicked while you're all pathetic and helpless like this, Mr 24/7." She said, while backing away a couple steps and turning to head for the alley that led to her park.

"The only gross thing is how try to get stuff like that outta us for ratings..." Clyde would grumble in response to Taylor's words before he heard her go on about how she had to run. Clyde sighed in relief. Finally this bitch was going to leave him alone and he could go right back to drinking himself to an early grave like a nice alcoholic. But it would be Taylor's last few words that really got under Clyde's skin as she called him pathetic and helpless, making him frown deeply at her before he watched her leave.

"Pathetic and helpless?" He'd repeat to himself in disbelief at what she said, the nerve of that girl to say that. Clyde didn't know why but he just couldn't sit down and let this girl have the last laugh. Maybe that old Gastin fire was starting to burn once again.

"HEY!!!" He'd yell out to her before lurching up from his seated position to drunkenly stagger towards Taylor with a deep scowl on his face face, following Taylor down the alley, hoping she stopped. If she did, he'd stop just in front of her to tell her like it is.

"...Ok Missy...You've had you're fun. If there's one thing Clyde T. Gastin ain't... It's Helpless... I might be pathetic... But I ain't helpless." He'd tell her an intoxicated matter of fact tone.

"If anything you're the one who looks helpless. Skinny lil' white girl out alone in big ol' Tokyo where old men like grope girls on Trains... And streets... Yeah. Not always safe. You don't mind if I tag along, do ya? Kinda bored." He'd admit with a nervous scratch behind his head.

Taylor turned around and walked backward for a few steps, her lithe, athletic body looked light as a feather compared to Clyde's plodding, drunken pace. She flashed Clyde her crowd-tested punky grin.

"Helpless, huh?" Taylor said, and pulled up the hem of her tank top again to show her tight, flat midsection and her faint but defined six-pack abs. Since the injury, with the weight she lost and the workouts she'd done since, she'd become even more lean. She knew some weight would come back eventually, but she looked pretty bad ass in the meantime, all shredded up.

She let go of her shirt. "Do I look helpless to you?" She said and settled into a light, bouncy fighting stance. She threw a few lightning fast feints at Clyde and laughed. "You wish. If you get your rocks off protecting girls then fine, but if we get jumped I'll be the one carrying your ass out of it. I've probably been in more fights than you, anyway."

She turned around and kept walking, ambivalent to Clyde following her. Could be worse, sure, but... could be a lot better too.

Seeing Taylor pull up on the hem of her Tank Top to show off her abs that left Clyde in envious shame, he could only sigh to himself when he realized Taylor was definitely not Mercy and she could most likely take care of herself. "Nooo..." He'd groan out in almost agreement to her words before he watched her threw those fast feints at him. "Easy Manny." He'd tell her in a dull, deadpan tone, now she was just stepping on his failed Bodyguard excuse and mashing it under her boot.

He then clicked his tongue at her last couple of words towards him about protecting girls and how she'll be the one carrying him out if they're jumped before saying that she had probably been in more fights. Just let her have her fun, he thought. "Guess I'll just let you handle all the thugs then, Ms. Badass." He'd joke to her with a hint of sarcasm before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat to follow close behind Taylor in the Alley.

"So... Where ya from, lady?" He'd ask. Trying to create small talk, along with being just curious.

"Shit, I better protect you." Taylor laughed. If he passed out in this alley, he's just end up staying the night there. Who knows what would happen to him. Good thing Taylor was around to scare off the thugs.

"New York, man." She said, as though he might've guessed. "I got no idea where you're from, man, everyone from the south just sounds the same to me. Where's John Wayne from? You a big John Wayne fan or something?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm from New York, but that's all in the past. I'm from here, now, really. New York is history. I've got no reason to go back there. All I've got is an apartment, a good gym membership, and a reason to get up in the morning. I get to kick ass and get paid, and it makes sense, it's all I was ever that good at." She said as she rounded the end of the alley into the park, a long stretch of green with a bit of a hill and a couple paths that crossed in the middle of it be a few benches and trees.