What a Man's Got to Do

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What a Man's Got to Do

Post by Quincy Reagan on Fri Mar 03, 2017 4:14 am

The gel ink glided smoothly across the dotted line. The last time he had left his John Hancock on piece of paper, he lost his wife. A strangely beautiful day, it was. The sky was blue and proud, welcoming the white clouds that took their place like a dissembled puzzle. The sun's shine was strong, yet it was still only a comfortable 70 degrees with the slightest breeze - just enough to reinvigorate the lungs and soothe the mind when it blew.

QUINCY REAGAN
Where's the kids?

He had asked when he entered his small apartment, seeing his wife sat at the kitchen table just near the entrance. Like most days, he had expected his son and his daughter to be there, ready to greet him.

QUINCY REAGAN
Huh?

He questioned her lack of a response.

FRANCINE WALTERS-REAGAN
At my mom's.

QUINCY REAGAN
What're they doing there?

From there, all he can remember was a feeling of drowning in between the phrases of their conversation. With the first time the word "divorce" was said, the first droplets fell within his mind. As he saw the papers, the torrent came. That was a year and a half ago.

A year and a half ago, the life he had been working for unlike he'd ever known had started to slip from his grasp. A man who rediscovered aspirations and goals for the first time in too long, met once again with life's constant disappointments. But this one was special. The first domino, it only went from there. First went his wife, then half of his money, but before that his job.

But worst of all - what troubled him most: the idea of losing his kids. Without a job, his ex-wife and the courts attacked his custody. Therefore, quite simply, a job was what he had to find.

There was no way he could go back to his old job - not after what had happened. Retail? He lacked the patience. Fast food? He was too proud. But then, with a GED and no degree, what else was there?

He had always loved music but lack even the slightest of talent in the art. Law was always an interest of him, but college had cost money he didn't have.

DALE
You're already trained, so what about wrestling?

When Dale had said it, there became a strong, strange ambition to see the idea through. Ruthless Professional Wrestling. The job was there, and with the ink on the dotted line, he had perhaps started, once more, to get his life together.
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Quincy Reagan

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