Drip. Drip. Drip. The water had not even been turned off tightly while he was away. Zero reached over the kitchen counter, twisting the knob. With a last echo of water falling into the empty sink, the leak stopped.
Zero stepped back, taking a breath of air. Standing inside of his appartment for the first time in almost a week, he had just arrived back in Berkeley. Coming back from twelve hours on the plane, returning from Grand Cayman and his debut match in CSWA againt K-9. He was tired. He knew that much. Half of a day of just sitting, trying to rest, switching his head from left to right while on the plane. But, finally, home at last. Or at least, his apartment. "Home" was about 500 feet away on the outside.
Turning out of the kitchen, he walked into his living room. He needed to at least unpack his bag before he tried to get some rest for the night. Something to calm him, relax him; get him settled down for the night. The bag rested on the couch, crammed full with a week's worth of extra clothes and items from the time on the boat. He reached for it, unzipping the top. The leg of a pair of pants bulged out of the top, as Zero pulled them out and threw them down into the hall. He'd take them to the washateria tomorrow.
After pulling out two more sets of dirty clothes, he saw a pair of board shorts stuffed into the corner of the carrying bag. Finally, some clean clothes amongst the mess in the bag. At least, as clean as whatever could be found in the bag. Zero reached in, pulling them out. But, as he did, a picture fell out of the bag, as well. Glancing at the fallen picture, not knowing what it was or why it was in his bag, Zero flipped the shorts onto the couch, bent down, and picked the picture up. And fell back slightly against the edge of the couch.
He stood there for a moment, just looking at the picture. The wonder, the questions . . . the emotions . . . all tied into the picture. The picture, the one that usually sat by the speedometer of his Blazier. The last picture he had of Karen. Somehow, it had fallen into the carrying bag. Somehow, wound up from out in his Blazier, to inside his carrying bag, all the way to Grand Cayman, and back there at his apartment, as he stood holding it.
Slowly, he laid the picture down on the television. Why look at a picture from your past? Something that ended a long time ago? There's no need for that. Zero knew he had to get the rest of the bag unloaded, and then try to get some rest, any kind of rest. After twelve hours of constant uneasiness, an attempt at trying to get some sleep would come in handy.
He walked back over to his bag, and took out a pair of studded bracelets from the back part. Tossing them onto the far side of the couch, he pulled out a fairly wrinkle-free t-shirt. But, slowly, he just dropped it back down, leaving it hanging over the edge of the bag. Zero wasn't looking, though, as he was walking back to the television. He couldn't forget about that picture. Scooping it up into his hand, he looked once more at it. The photo, which had the picture of Karen, smiling.
He remembered the time he had taken the picture. Sitting outside, just the two of them. The sun was going down. There were two shots left on the roll of film he had. Catching her by some what of a surprise, he had snapped the picture. The flash had went off, capturing the pure emotion of what Karen was all about. No pretension, so fake smile into a camera. Just the way she was, as the picture clearly shown. Smiling, lovingly, to Zero as he had surprised her with the snapshot.
Taking his look off of the picture, his mind flooding with memories, too many to acocunt for, Zero looked up to the ceiling. Oh the memories. From the time he had first met. He could remember the moment clearly. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
He had just walked into the Gilman club. Distraught over the way was going for him. And she, Karen, was the new waitress at the club. She had poured him something to drink, although Zero hadn't paid a lot of attention to her at that moment. His head had been down in his hands, thinking off on something. The only time he would look up was when he took an occasional sip from his drink.
It was just moments later when he had overheard the commotion by the pool table. Karen had waited on some men, asking if they needed anything else, or if that would be enough? And it was then that the alcohol had taken affect of one of the men, as he started harrassing her. Making lude comments, suggestive words. She asked them to leave her alone, but one of them had grabbed her. It was then that Zero had cold cocked the man from behind. But, at that moment, his friends attacked Zero. But, the alcohol had taken control of them, as Zero was able to fend them off.
As he had started to leave the club, it was then that she had thanked him, telling him her name ws "Karen." As she went to shake his hand, Zero had felt the piece of paper slide into his hand. And walking down the street, he opened it up, showing the phone number to the girl back at the Gilman club.
During the weeks that would follow, they started seeing each other more often, running into each other in almost a pre-meditated way. And, with each time, the love for Karen slowly built inside of Zero. They started seeing each other whenever they got a chance. Karen had a busy schedule with working at the club. Zero, with his wrestling schedule. But they were determined to make it work.
Soon, though, they had decided to move in together in an apartment on Christie Road. Zero had finally decided to venture out and away from his "home-land" of Gilman Street. He know had someone who could make up for it. Someone who could make up for a lot of things. Someone to finally be able to talk to. And, he would soon learn, that Karen would be the one person who he could really talk to.
Karen quit her waitressing job at the club. The two would just use the income Zero was receiving while wrestling. If it wasn't for that fact, Zero would of retired from wrestling, just to be able to spend more time with Karen. It was first time he had ever been able to talk to someone, and actually feel as if they were listening to him, and truly wanted to share the comments and own opinions. The idea excited him.
In time, Karen even opened up to Zero, telling him her background. Of how, living in San Diego, her parents split up while she turned eightteen. In anger of her parents' decision, she had moved out, and, setting out with a friend, decided to go in halves on an apartment. Things had worked out fine at first. But soon, her friend was coming up with less and less money to cover her half. She started borrowing from Karen. And then, she didn't show up at the apartment for three days. Three days, as Karen had no idea where she was.
When she did come back, Karen had decided it was enough. She wouldn't depend on someone else to help her out. So, she set out on her own. Moving out, she went to San Jose, finding a small, cheap apartment, and a fairly decent paying job.
The trend would continue, though, as Karen couldn't find a place where she enjoyed, but she would not go back to her mom or dad's house. The anger still burned in her for their splitting up. Something she thought would never happen between them.
Two years went by, then Karen had found the job at the Gilman club. It seemed ok at the moment. A place to go from. But it turned out to be the place where she would meet him. Where she would meet Lint Douglas, also known as Zero. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Zero looked back down at the picture in his hand. Karen, smiling, never expecting anything to go wrong in their relationship. But then again, neither had he, as he had snapped the picture. But, little did either know at the time, that it would be just three weeks later when the worst thing that could possibly happen . . . happened. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Zero had had to leave for a show. Karen said she would be away for a while, but would be back home to watch the show went it went on the air. She ahdn't missed an HEW telecast, yet, since she had started seeing Zero. She knew how much it meant to Zero. She could tell just by the way he carried himself in the ring. Just by the look in his eyes. Much different from the man she had first met. This man was a happy man. One who finally had things working out in his life.
Upon arriving at the hotel, though, Zero saw the news. On the televsion, a special report had came on, telling of the resurrection of the Gilman Alley crime from three years earlier. It was when three bodies had been found inside of the alley, dead. The killer was never found, and after much loss of leads, the inspecters officially dropped the case. But now, it had been reopened. The reason? New evidence.
Zero watched the screen, half of his attention being paid to it, and half being paid on the clock on the wall. Karen would be back home in only two hours. He needed to give her a call before he went to the arena for that night's card.
Then, suddenly, Zero froze. On the television, the inspecter had been interviewed regarding the case. And, the prime suspect? Lint Douglas, lifetime resident of Berkeley, California, and frequently seen at the Gilman Alley. It was their only lead, but, a prime suspect. The inspecter said that Lint Douglas went by the name of "Zero" in the HEW, but that wouldn't stop them from bringing a criminal to justice.
Panic struck Zero. What would he do? He knew he didn't commit the crimes! It was circumstantial eveidence, that had no basis for reason. But, who in Berkeley would believe that? They feared the Gilman Alley, and it was Zero's home . . . his home until Karen had come into his life.
The police would be at the arena. Zero knew they would. He had to act fast. He called back home, desperately hoping that Karen hadn't left yet. He HAD to get in touch with her. He HAD to. But no . . . she had already left. What was he to do. Then, slowly, he saw the camera lying in the corner.
It was then that he made the tape. The tape, that he would sneak into the arena, along with the Hardcore title that he held at the time, explaining what had happened to him, and explaining to Karen why he was doing what he had to do. The tape he had left in an isolated locker room, as J-Smooth, the president, would find it, realizing what had just happened to Zero.
Driving down the interstate, not really knowing what to do, or where to go, the reality of what he had just done struck Zero hard. He had just given up his life. That tape held his whole life, as he gave it away because of circumstantial evidence. He had said in the tape to be sure to take care of Karen. He told Karen he had tried to get in touch with her, but she had already left. He wanted her to understand. He so desperately did. She meant his life to him. Without her, without the person, the one person, who he could talk to, he knew he would be back to where he was before he met her.
Driving down the interstate, not knowing where he was going, but knowing he had to go somewhere, just so he could avoid the police, Zero hoped Karen would understand. So desperately he hoped. She was his life. And without a life, what was there to live for? . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sitting the picture back down onto the television, Zero sighed a lonely sigh. No, she hadn't understood. She had needed someone. First her parents had seemingly left her when they split up, then the man who she loved more than anything else, had, too, left her. And she would turn to Havoc, the man who was there for her in the lowest moment of her life. He would comfort, confirm, and love her. Taking the spot that was once held exclusively for Zero. But, did Karen ever truly understand what had happened to Zero? Didn't show ever truly find out what it done to him when he had had to make that tape? Zero wasn't sure, and he was pretty positive that she would probably never know.
As Zero stood in the living room of his apartment, an apartment set against Gilman Street, the place he had left when Karen had opened a new world for him, but had returned back to when his world crumbled yet once again around him, he breathed a soft sigh. Things would never reach the way they were back then. He had pretty much confirmed it with himself. Karen was gone, she was Havoc's. And he had . . . he had . . . and he still had the alley.
Turning back to the carrying bag, Zero tried to once again attempt to unpack it. But it was impossible now. How could he? Karen had once again invaded his thoughts. And once that happened, there was nothing he could do.
Slowly turning, he walked out of the living room, turning the light off as he passed by the switch. He would try to get some rest. The bag would still be there tomorrow. But, now, the only rest he would be able to get, would be an eternal sleep. As long as his life was like the way it was, Zero knew that. But until then . . .
midi: "Infected" by Bad Religion
