So Far (I'm Alright)
Feb 10, 2019 2:31:20 GMT -5
Alexander Pasternak, Wade Moor, and 1 more like this
Post by Lockhart on Feb 10, 2019 2:31:20 GMT -5
'I am the greatest wrestler on the planet today. I have amassed a near impeccable record. Each match at this point is perfunctory. When I look at the roster, a certain feeling of apathy and disappointment fills me.
'No-one wants to fight. They pretend they do, but I see it in their eyes. They can say whatever behind a microphone, behind a General Manager, behind a keyboard… but when they get in that ring? Something changes. They lose their luster, their eagerness, their mask slips and they show who they are beneath the bravado - cowards. All of them.
'I change in that ring too, but not in the same way. My instincts heighten, I become a new beast. Fighting is my purpose. That’s when the real me comes out. The fighter. Not the lover, not the smack-talker, not the partyer. It’s just me, my fists, feet, knees and elbows. These are what bring me satisfaction.
'But there needs to be a reason behind it. There is nothing gained from beating these men and women who have no fire behind them. No anger. No passion. When I look into the eyes of my opponent and see that they’re broken before I’ve even put a hand on them? That’s when the feelings on indifference start to kick in.
‘The only competition I have are the men who stand on the same pedestal as me… the #beachkrew.
‘Maybe that in itself is where the problem lies.’
Piles of logs, branches and twigs are engulfed by flames, illuminating the dark of night. The golden sand beneath the bonfire glows from the ebbing of light, as the celebrations for the #beachkrew after their victory at Revolution II continued.
Empty bottles and cans litter the sand while the group of the #beachkrew core contingent sits around the fire. With them come the usual squad of whores, lost boys and ragtag #beachkrew homers who follow the route of the VolkSWAGGIN’ and at times even have the privilege of stepping inside it.
After a successful night for the boys, this cycle would continue - with only Alexander, Wade, Ryan and Jared being the constant presences each time. The rest? Insignificant pieces that would rotate in and out weekly, turning into forgotten faces and personalities the moment the next week rolled around.
For three of the men, these people brought fleeting moments of exhilaration and excitement. For one, this was something he had been used to doing even prior to being a member of #beachkrew. Nowadays though? There was something gnawing at him, unintentionally preventing him from taking place in these acts.
Ryan stands barefoot in the wetted sand, his feet sinking into the cold, unwelcoming grains around him. The tide is low, but still brushes up against him, as he stares into the open space. Under the cover of night, the ocean appears peaceful and serene. But the further out he looked? The greater the underlying sense of danger and uncertainty the sea carried within it.
Ryan wondered if this is how people viewed him.
A hand placed itself on his shoulder and his body let out an instinctual shiver. His neck cranked back, his eyes levelling on Alexander.
‘Hey, champ. Noticed something ‘bout you.’ Alexander said, his voice slurred and eyes unfocused.
The corner of Ryan’s lip twitches. For all of Alexander’s bravado, his intelligence and attention to detail were equally as present - if one watched carefully enough. Ryan humours him with a smile of fake interest.
‘Go on.’
‘You’re stuck on someone.’
A straight and to the point Alexander was equally as effective as the one who had spent an entire interview picking apart and tearing down #FightSmart. Ryan’s heart beat faster than usual, his shoulders tensed. He feigns ignorance.
‘Don’t know what makes you think that. I’m having just as much fun as any of you.’
‘True. But fuck, man. You won’t even let a woman near you, let alone touch you. The fucks with that?’
‘Hey, I avoid my weaknesses. You could learn a thing or two about that. Vodka is like, undefeated against you or some shit.’
The two share a laugh, but Ryan’s is hollow. Hiding weakness? Pain? Which one was it? Even in his drunken state, Pasternak would find out.
‘Nah, get off that shit. Women aren’t your weakness. It’s one in particular.’ he says, smirking with the knowledge that Ryan’s following sigh and head shake confirm that he’s correct.
‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You got me. Tell the guys I’ll be back in a sec, and then we’re hitting the road. I want to get as far away from here as possible.’
‘From where?’
‘The ocean.’
Alexander doesn’t respond. Why would he? Poking fun at one man’s complex and difficult romance was one thing. Helping him confront his demons? A whole different monster - one that Pasternak himself had yet to conquer.
He slipped away into the night, and eventually back into the safety of the fire’s warm light. Ryan remained at the cusp of the ocean, glancing down at his phone at a text he had received earlier that night.
Amber
hey handsome, heard from a little bird ur world champ. congrats. take me out for coffee sometime. or coke if u prefer
Jared and Ryan sat in a cramped Boston Starbucks, with the latter’s face covered by a black Champion hoodie in order to avoid being recognized by the sport-crazed Bostonians, who were well-aware of their hometown hero’s rise to superstardom.
It didn’t really help the situation that they had a cameraman following them around.
The 6ix God had no such worries - not due to lack of being spotted, but rather his natural talent at being able to tell a pestering pleb to “fuck off” without any remorse. It had happened twice today, while Ryan and his iconic curly hair remain hidden beneath the cowl that cast a half-shadow across his delicate features.
He stirred his caramel frappuccino in a lackadaisical manner, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by 6ix. Ryan’s loss of passion since their Revolution II victory had been a talking point between Wade and Jared.
Jared could delve into anyone’s psyche and figure out a temporary solution. That wasn’t up for debate. The question was would it be worth it? Ryan was one of the more talented people he had welcomed during his involvement with the wrestling world, surely he wouldn’t need to-
‘Jared.’ Ryan said, his eyes burning a hole through The 6ix God. This caught his attention, something that was becoming increasingly hard to do lately.
‘...yeah?’ Jared watched his client intently.
‘This… I’m fuckin’ sick of this, man.’ Ryan said, his voice exasperated as he exhales loudly.
He holds out his phone, and Jared’s eyes take a moment to adjust. He’s expecting a stupid tweet from The Guardians or something of similar unimportance, but instead he witnesses a tragedy. A small Magikarp lazing around in a body of water, surrounded by food that he is not being commanded to eat in order to level up. Ryan’s next words are devastating.
‘This game is fuckin’ terrible. Probably the most boring thing I’ve done in a while… and this is coming from the guy who has had to take on Jaice Wilds in multiple matches and is set to do so at a PAY-PER-VIEW. Fuckin’ kill me. I’d rather murder Shadow again or some shit.’
‘Say whatever you want about JaiceWRLD and your shitty matches, but don’t come at Magikarp Jump like that. I’d argue it’s one of the greatest inventions of our generation… and this is an era where I birthed the #beachkrew.’
Jared pulled out his phone and began tapping at the screen, his high-level Magikarp swimming across the screen to gobble up various food items. Ryan gave a subtle shake of the head, before turning his attention to the cameraman.
‘You. Get that focused on me. If I can’t have the pleasure of finding a decent mobile game to play, I should at least take the time out of my day to butcher these inept fucks who I’ll be coming up against on Monday.
The level of his voice rises, garnering the attention of some of the people in the Starbucks.
‘Beau Blaze. Welcome to the main-event. I don’t know and I don’t care if you’ve ever been in one before - because you haven’t gone up against ME yet. This is when pretenders like yourself are left wondering where the fuck they went wrong.
‘So you made it to the big leagues after living a rough life? Cool. While you were riding horses, herding cattle and shooting guns, I was bare-knuckle brawling in underground clubs to pay the rent for the family and ensuring we had enough food to fuckin’ make it through the week.
‘I don’t care what you’ve been through. Not only can I guarantee that I’ve been through worse, but I can guarantee that I've DONE worse. Everybody here is a troubled soul. Hardly anyone here has lived an easy life, so cut the shit and just accept that you aren’t this rough-going, badass motherfucker. You’re a little boy who doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.
‘Don’t worry yourself though, I’ll give it to you straight. I’ll cast out those delusions that have filled up your inflated ego. You’ve done absolutely nothing here that gives you any right to be standing across from myself, Wade and Alexander this week. You are an average competitor who doesn’t have any of the capabilities that a true champion like myself does.
‘Your TV Title reign? Fuckin’ garbage, man. Not even three weeks. You hyped it up like you were going to do some mad shit, that you were going to bring a revolution to the division. But in the end? You were just like every other hype job that I’ve seen here. You did nothing with the belt.
‘That so-called “new era” of Television sure didn’t last long, did it you incompetent fuck? You didn’t cement a legacy like you said you would. You fell flat on your fuckin’ face and didn’t improve your stock at all.
‘I’m here to break records and create a legacy - to achieve a legendary status that cannot be touched. You? You’re here touching yourself because you had a tragic TV Title run, a mediocre tag-team run that’s about to be cut brutally short by my comrades, and a Rookie of the Year award that you didn’t even fuckin’ deserve.
‘In the same year as you, I had already jumped the damn queue and etched my name in stone by becoming World Champion.’
He takes off his hood and stands up, and for the people who are out of ear-shot from Ryan’s tirade in the Starbucks, his mess of curly locks are enough to give away who has graced this store.
‘Holy shit, that’s the Champ!’
‘Kill these fools! Wait, who is he going up against?’
Ryan smiles.
‘You’re looking at the real Rookie of the Year, Beau. In my first year I put on an epic performance at the Havoc Rumble, made it to the semi-finals of the WRESTLER of the Year Tournament - a tournament that you weren’t even considered for - won the first ever All-In Ladder match, competed and won in one of the first ever Execution Cage matches, and eventually? Won the World Heavyweight Championship.
‘You don’t belong in the same breath as me, and it’s a tragedy that you were given an award that you never deserved. Just another thing that will tarnish your piss-poor legacy worse than the fact that you’re a weak-minded, unsuccessful champion.'
Even Jared looks up from his phone at this and screwfaces a little.
‘Want to know my secret? Why I never had to be like you or ZMAC and gain confidence by going for that little TV title? Why I didn’t bother “working my way through the ranks” like you boys?’
He grins.
‘Because I’m the main-event, man. The greatest wrestler to grace a ring today, and soon enough? The one who will be regarded as the best to EVER do it. Period.
‘I wasn’t on some pussy shit like you and ZMAC. I went straight for the fuckin’ throats of the main-eventers and legends… and I toppled them all. I had no fear, no hesitation, and everyone else? They saw it. They saw that look in my eye and they fuckin’ ran from the competition. They knew they couldn’t hang.
‘Everywhere I went they whispered “future World Champion” and what do you know? Within twenty matches and not even a full year of active competition… there I was. YOUR World Champion, Beau. Has it hit you yet how different we are?
‘There are levels and plateaus that exist between us that you will never cross, no matter what life you lived or how hard you worked. This is what I was born for. I’m a fuckin’ fighter, man. This shit is in my blood, and this is purebred talent that you’re looking at. This is not something that you can compete against, so lay the fuck down and get ready for the #BeachKrew to take those belts from you, my son.’
The people of Boston have left their coffees, lattes and frappuccinos and are now witnessing the utter destruction of The Cowboys from Hell.
‘And then there’s the gatekeeper. ZMAC… what the fuck happened, my man? You were meant to be on the rise. You were meant to be crushing all the divisions. But all I’m seeing right now is a lost soul who has zero clue as to what he’s doing.
‘For those without a hint of intelligence or the casual fan… you are arguably one of the most dominant men to enter the sport. But when you look a little closer? You begin to realize that this only applies when you’re working through the lower divisions of federations and the undercard.
‘It boggles my mind that someone can be hyped up to such great heights and be so highly regarded, yet have his only World Title reign come during the weakest era of wrestling competition, that being UCI. It shows what you’re really made of, Z.
‘There’s only one time when you’re a big winner, my friend. There’s an aura and mystique that surrounds THE Zombie McMorris. You’re a fabled character. Something between myth and legend… to the people that are afraid of you.
‘Your success is only evident when the people you are coming up against are scared of you. As soon as you come up against anyone with some form of a backbone? You become a meek and unimpressive loser. The “hardest shooter in the game” gets reduced to a one-trick pony without any other plan of attack to bring him those Ws. You get exposed for what you really are - a slightly above-average competitor who is more respected for his longevity and consistency than his actual ability to achieve greatness.
‘Look at the people that you’ve lost to. Lincoln Kuechly out of all people managed to pick up a win against you, and that’s because during your first match, he didn’t fear you. He took the fight to you and beat your ass. After that, though? Something spooked him and he ran away from your next challenge. You best fuckin’ hope the same thing happens to me, huh? Because otherwise… this is as far as you go, Z.
‘But that’s the thing. That’s never going to happen. I have never backed down from a challenge. I have never showed fear or expressed doubt in the face of adversity. While after that whole Lincoln situation you were the TV Champ and had secured the two weakest belts in the federation… I was out here grinding and working my way out to the fuckin’ top, eclipsing both you and your boy Beau in a matter of months, winning the World Title and doing it quicker and better than you could ever manage.’
Now the entire store is hyping him up, even the workers are circling around Ryan, Jared and the cameraman as he murders these guys.
‘This is where we differ. I do what I want, when I want. I took my losses, ZMAC. I learned from my World Title opportunity and I took that loss like a fuckin’ man. When I came back? I evolved. I did something you could never do. While you’ve stagnated and been the same guy your entire career, I’ve continued to grow. I’ve honed my craft and am now an untouchable entity.
‘That aura I was talking about? That’s all it is with you. You can see through it if you’re not afraid. People like Lincoln and Casey? I’d fuckin’ smoke them any day of the week, no matter the conditions. Put me against either one of them in a one-on-one situation and they would crumble under the pressure.
‘Against me? They’d be broken. Against you? They show life. They show hope. They beat you down and while you come back again and again with the trolling and the antics… it doesn’t really matter, does it? You didn’t win.’
He snaps his fingers.
‘Just like that… the mystique is gone. The recipe to beating you is figured out. You drop your “roasts”, your “horrorkore” and “scathing” shoot… but I couldn’t care if I tried.
‘You expect me to be impressed now that you’ve “conquered” the tag team division? You lost to Red, White and Bruised, a team I could beat with my hands tied and both of my knees blown out by a shotgun. The only people you’ve beat in this “division” are Team Friendship and #FightSmart… who you were about to get beat by after your Daddy and Savior Spencer nearly killed you… if it wasn’t for #beachkrew coming in there to save your ass and give you your third title. You’re welcome, buddy.’
Jared does a mock cross with his fingers and whispers a prayer for the wrestler once known as SeaMAC.
‘You’re the definition of high floor, low ceiling. There is nothing about you that scares me or makes me second-guess myself. All I see in you is another “legend” of the game that I am about to take out. It will be effortless, it will be a virtuoso of a performance by myself. Then? It’ll hit you and the rest of the world.
‘There is no aura with me. This is just the level I’m at. This is where I stand, and where I currently am? It’s so far above anything you could imagine. This is something that cannot be touched by anybody on this roster, and you’re just another onlooker bearing witness to it all.'
The hype in the store is becoming unreal. People from outside are coming to see what the commotion is, as Ryan continues to go off. Jared meanwhile takes a sip from his takeaway cup.
‘And Jaice? I saw that look in your eye last week, you limp-dicked coward. When Camila announced you for that World Title match? You were surprised and excited… but then it hit you, didn’t it? You realized what you’d be coming up against, and that look turned straight into fear.
‘Cry all you want about how I won my belt. Call me a bitch. A coward. I don’t give a damn. I went willingly into a bloodbath against Shadowlove in the Execution Cage match. I had been one of the ONLY men to combat #FightSmart when they were at the height of their dominance… while people like you and the rest of the roster hid in fear. Not only did I dominate them, but I sent them packing all the way back down to the middle of the card - still a step above where you belong, mind you.
‘Was I a coward when I took on Corey Black and Dune and defended the pride of Action Wrestling, Jaice? When I stepped the fuck up and showed that this is MY federation? How about when in that same match I crushed the hopes and dreams of your little friend L Verez, who all of a sudden has the audacity to come crawling out from her shell of irrelevance and start throwing shots at us like The Guardians actually matter and are a reasonable threat to us.
‘Tell me, Jaice… was I a coward when I crushed you during our previous matches? When I beat you so bad that you followed through with the least exciting unmasking in the history of the sport? When I dominated you so thoroughly and showed you had no place at the top of the card with me, that you felt the need to relegate yourself all the way down to the 201 Division?
‘Your unmasking flopped so spectacularly, and your run in 201? You couldn’t even dominate that division, filled with people that I would literally one-shot. What the fuck kind of match-up is this, man? Is this the money match that management is looking for? Ryan Lockhart against some fuckin’ scrub not even fit to shine his shoes?
‘There is no fear here, Jaice. Just a monster that is going to destroy you. I don’t run from the challengers standing at the gate for my Championship - the select few that remain. I wanted to defend my belt every week of January, and management denied me that opportunity.
‘They know I would ruin every contender that stepped in my path. That’s why they’re delaying the inevitable, hoping and praying that somebody worth a damn will return and give me a decent match that they can hype up. You? You’re not that guy. And that’s why this week I will once again leave you battered and broken, leaving no doubt as to who will be walking out with the belt at #EFFINRAGER.’
He sighs, glancing at Jared.
‘Cutting it short?’
‘Yeah, there’s nothing more to say about this fool. This is going to be the most one-sided World Title match in wrestling history. There’s nothing left that Jaice can offer me to make me interested in him as an opponent. At least I haven’t gone up against Beau or McMorris before.’
‘Fair enough. We leaving? I’m out of training for #GetSonned.’
‘Who?’
‘My Magikarp.’
‘...yeah, we’re leaving.’
The Boston Hero and The 6ix God depart from the store, to the cheers of the crowd.
Ryan and Amber sit across from one another at a hookah bar, taking turns at blowing smoke out from their mouths and nostrils. She gives him a suggestive smile.
‘This is a little tame for you.’ she says, pointing at the hookah.
‘I don’t have any on me. Alexander borrowed it.’ he says, telling the lie with a straight face. She ignores his statement.
‘I missed you.’
The words pound through his skull and he feels himself becoming light-headed at the phrase. He had heard it countless times, but this one? It was different. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, bouncing his right leg up and down repeatedly in order to calm himself.
‘Yeah, I missed you too.’
There were so many questions to ask. But he didn't bother. He knew what this was. There was no romance to be found here.
Or was there?
She looked bored. She let a stream of smoke escape from the corner of her mouth, as she brushes a stray couple of hairs out from her face. A thought seems to pop up in her mind.
‘You’re World Champion now. That’s what you wanted, right?’
‘It was.’
She noted his choice of words.
‘So are you satisfied now? Have you found what you’re looking for?’
Ryan didn’t know what he was looking for. All he felt now was greed and lust. He shakes his head.
‘I don’t think so.’
'No-one wants to fight. They pretend they do, but I see it in their eyes. They can say whatever behind a microphone, behind a General Manager, behind a keyboard… but when they get in that ring? Something changes. They lose their luster, their eagerness, their mask slips and they show who they are beneath the bravado - cowards. All of them.
'I change in that ring too, but not in the same way. My instincts heighten, I become a new beast. Fighting is my purpose. That’s when the real me comes out. The fighter. Not the lover, not the smack-talker, not the partyer. It’s just me, my fists, feet, knees and elbows. These are what bring me satisfaction.
'But there needs to be a reason behind it. There is nothing gained from beating these men and women who have no fire behind them. No anger. No passion. When I look into the eyes of my opponent and see that they’re broken before I’ve even put a hand on them? That’s when the feelings on indifference start to kick in.
‘The only competition I have are the men who stand on the same pedestal as me… the #beachkrew.
‘Maybe that in itself is where the problem lies.’
Piles of logs, branches and twigs are engulfed by flames, illuminating the dark of night. The golden sand beneath the bonfire glows from the ebbing of light, as the celebrations for the #beachkrew after their victory at Revolution II continued.
Empty bottles and cans litter the sand while the group of the #beachkrew core contingent sits around the fire. With them come the usual squad of whores, lost boys and ragtag #beachkrew homers who follow the route of the VolkSWAGGIN’ and at times even have the privilege of stepping inside it.
After a successful night for the boys, this cycle would continue - with only Alexander, Wade, Ryan and Jared being the constant presences each time. The rest? Insignificant pieces that would rotate in and out weekly, turning into forgotten faces and personalities the moment the next week rolled around.
For three of the men, these people brought fleeting moments of exhilaration and excitement. For one, this was something he had been used to doing even prior to being a member of #beachkrew. Nowadays though? There was something gnawing at him, unintentionally preventing him from taking place in these acts.
Ryan stands barefoot in the wetted sand, his feet sinking into the cold, unwelcoming grains around him. The tide is low, but still brushes up against him, as he stares into the open space. Under the cover of night, the ocean appears peaceful and serene. But the further out he looked? The greater the underlying sense of danger and uncertainty the sea carried within it.
Ryan wondered if this is how people viewed him.
A hand placed itself on his shoulder and his body let out an instinctual shiver. His neck cranked back, his eyes levelling on Alexander.
‘Hey, champ. Noticed something ‘bout you.’ Alexander said, his voice slurred and eyes unfocused.
The corner of Ryan’s lip twitches. For all of Alexander’s bravado, his intelligence and attention to detail were equally as present - if one watched carefully enough. Ryan humours him with a smile of fake interest.
‘Go on.’
‘You’re stuck on someone.’
A straight and to the point Alexander was equally as effective as the one who had spent an entire interview picking apart and tearing down #FightSmart. Ryan’s heart beat faster than usual, his shoulders tensed. He feigns ignorance.
‘Don’t know what makes you think that. I’m having just as much fun as any of you.’
‘True. But fuck, man. You won’t even let a woman near you, let alone touch you. The fucks with that?’
‘Hey, I avoid my weaknesses. You could learn a thing or two about that. Vodka is like, undefeated against you or some shit.’
The two share a laugh, but Ryan’s is hollow. Hiding weakness? Pain? Which one was it? Even in his drunken state, Pasternak would find out.
‘Nah, get off that shit. Women aren’t your weakness. It’s one in particular.’ he says, smirking with the knowledge that Ryan’s following sigh and head shake confirm that he’s correct.
‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You got me. Tell the guys I’ll be back in a sec, and then we’re hitting the road. I want to get as far away from here as possible.’
‘From where?’
‘The ocean.’
Alexander doesn’t respond. Why would he? Poking fun at one man’s complex and difficult romance was one thing. Helping him confront his demons? A whole different monster - one that Pasternak himself had yet to conquer.
He slipped away into the night, and eventually back into the safety of the fire’s warm light. Ryan remained at the cusp of the ocean, glancing down at his phone at a text he had received earlier that night.
Amber
hey handsome, heard from a little bird ur world champ. congrats. take me out for coffee sometime. or coke if u prefer
Jared and Ryan sat in a cramped Boston Starbucks, with the latter’s face covered by a black Champion hoodie in order to avoid being recognized by the sport-crazed Bostonians, who were well-aware of their hometown hero’s rise to superstardom.
It didn’t really help the situation that they had a cameraman following them around.
The 6ix God had no such worries - not due to lack of being spotted, but rather his natural talent at being able to tell a pestering pleb to “fuck off” without any remorse. It had happened twice today, while Ryan and his iconic curly hair remain hidden beneath the cowl that cast a half-shadow across his delicate features.
He stirred his caramel frappuccino in a lackadaisical manner, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by 6ix. Ryan’s loss of passion since their Revolution II victory had been a talking point between Wade and Jared.
Jared could delve into anyone’s psyche and figure out a temporary solution. That wasn’t up for debate. The question was would it be worth it? Ryan was one of the more talented people he had welcomed during his involvement with the wrestling world, surely he wouldn’t need to-
‘Jared.’ Ryan said, his eyes burning a hole through The 6ix God. This caught his attention, something that was becoming increasingly hard to do lately.
‘...yeah?’ Jared watched his client intently.
‘This… I’m fuckin’ sick of this, man.’ Ryan said, his voice exasperated as he exhales loudly.
He holds out his phone, and Jared’s eyes take a moment to adjust. He’s expecting a stupid tweet from The Guardians or something of similar unimportance, but instead he witnesses a tragedy. A small Magikarp lazing around in a body of water, surrounded by food that he is not being commanded to eat in order to level up. Ryan’s next words are devastating.
‘This game is fuckin’ terrible. Probably the most boring thing I’ve done in a while… and this is coming from the guy who has had to take on Jaice Wilds in multiple matches and is set to do so at a PAY-PER-VIEW. Fuckin’ kill me. I’d rather murder Shadow again or some shit.’
‘Say whatever you want about JaiceWRLD and your shitty matches, but don’t come at Magikarp Jump like that. I’d argue it’s one of the greatest inventions of our generation… and this is an era where I birthed the #beachkrew.’
Jared pulled out his phone and began tapping at the screen, his high-level Magikarp swimming across the screen to gobble up various food items. Ryan gave a subtle shake of the head, before turning his attention to the cameraman.
‘You. Get that focused on me. If I can’t have the pleasure of finding a decent mobile game to play, I should at least take the time out of my day to butcher these inept fucks who I’ll be coming up against on Monday.
The level of his voice rises, garnering the attention of some of the people in the Starbucks.
‘Beau Blaze. Welcome to the main-event. I don’t know and I don’t care if you’ve ever been in one before - because you haven’t gone up against ME yet. This is when pretenders like yourself are left wondering where the fuck they went wrong.
‘So you made it to the big leagues after living a rough life? Cool. While you were riding horses, herding cattle and shooting guns, I was bare-knuckle brawling in underground clubs to pay the rent for the family and ensuring we had enough food to fuckin’ make it through the week.
‘I don’t care what you’ve been through. Not only can I guarantee that I’ve been through worse, but I can guarantee that I've DONE worse. Everybody here is a troubled soul. Hardly anyone here has lived an easy life, so cut the shit and just accept that you aren’t this rough-going, badass motherfucker. You’re a little boy who doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.
‘Don’t worry yourself though, I’ll give it to you straight. I’ll cast out those delusions that have filled up your inflated ego. You’ve done absolutely nothing here that gives you any right to be standing across from myself, Wade and Alexander this week. You are an average competitor who doesn’t have any of the capabilities that a true champion like myself does.
‘Your TV Title reign? Fuckin’ garbage, man. Not even three weeks. You hyped it up like you were going to do some mad shit, that you were going to bring a revolution to the division. But in the end? You were just like every other hype job that I’ve seen here. You did nothing with the belt.
‘That so-called “new era” of Television sure didn’t last long, did it you incompetent fuck? You didn’t cement a legacy like you said you would. You fell flat on your fuckin’ face and didn’t improve your stock at all.
‘I’m here to break records and create a legacy - to achieve a legendary status that cannot be touched. You? You’re here touching yourself because you had a tragic TV Title run, a mediocre tag-team run that’s about to be cut brutally short by my comrades, and a Rookie of the Year award that you didn’t even fuckin’ deserve.
‘In the same year as you, I had already jumped the damn queue and etched my name in stone by becoming World Champion.’
He takes off his hood and stands up, and for the people who are out of ear-shot from Ryan’s tirade in the Starbucks, his mess of curly locks are enough to give away who has graced this store.
‘Holy shit, that’s the Champ!’
‘Kill these fools! Wait, who is he going up against?’
Ryan smiles.
‘You’re looking at the real Rookie of the Year, Beau. In my first year I put on an epic performance at the Havoc Rumble, made it to the semi-finals of the WRESTLER of the Year Tournament - a tournament that you weren’t even considered for - won the first ever All-In Ladder match, competed and won in one of the first ever Execution Cage matches, and eventually? Won the World Heavyweight Championship.
‘You don’t belong in the same breath as me, and it’s a tragedy that you were given an award that you never deserved. Just another thing that will tarnish your piss-poor legacy worse than the fact that you’re a weak-minded, unsuccessful champion.'
Even Jared looks up from his phone at this and screwfaces a little.
‘Want to know my secret? Why I never had to be like you or ZMAC and gain confidence by going for that little TV title? Why I didn’t bother “working my way through the ranks” like you boys?’
He grins.
‘Because I’m the main-event, man. The greatest wrestler to grace a ring today, and soon enough? The one who will be regarded as the best to EVER do it. Period.
‘I wasn’t on some pussy shit like you and ZMAC. I went straight for the fuckin’ throats of the main-eventers and legends… and I toppled them all. I had no fear, no hesitation, and everyone else? They saw it. They saw that look in my eye and they fuckin’ ran from the competition. They knew they couldn’t hang.
‘Everywhere I went they whispered “future World Champion” and what do you know? Within twenty matches and not even a full year of active competition… there I was. YOUR World Champion, Beau. Has it hit you yet how different we are?
‘There are levels and plateaus that exist between us that you will never cross, no matter what life you lived or how hard you worked. This is what I was born for. I’m a fuckin’ fighter, man. This shit is in my blood, and this is purebred talent that you’re looking at. This is not something that you can compete against, so lay the fuck down and get ready for the #BeachKrew to take those belts from you, my son.’
The people of Boston have left their coffees, lattes and frappuccinos and are now witnessing the utter destruction of The Cowboys from Hell.
‘And then there’s the gatekeeper. ZMAC… what the fuck happened, my man? You were meant to be on the rise. You were meant to be crushing all the divisions. But all I’m seeing right now is a lost soul who has zero clue as to what he’s doing.
‘For those without a hint of intelligence or the casual fan… you are arguably one of the most dominant men to enter the sport. But when you look a little closer? You begin to realize that this only applies when you’re working through the lower divisions of federations and the undercard.
‘It boggles my mind that someone can be hyped up to such great heights and be so highly regarded, yet have his only World Title reign come during the weakest era of wrestling competition, that being UCI. It shows what you’re really made of, Z.
‘There’s only one time when you’re a big winner, my friend. There’s an aura and mystique that surrounds THE Zombie McMorris. You’re a fabled character. Something between myth and legend… to the people that are afraid of you.
‘Your success is only evident when the people you are coming up against are scared of you. As soon as you come up against anyone with some form of a backbone? You become a meek and unimpressive loser. The “hardest shooter in the game” gets reduced to a one-trick pony without any other plan of attack to bring him those Ws. You get exposed for what you really are - a slightly above-average competitor who is more respected for his longevity and consistency than his actual ability to achieve greatness.
‘Look at the people that you’ve lost to. Lincoln Kuechly out of all people managed to pick up a win against you, and that’s because during your first match, he didn’t fear you. He took the fight to you and beat your ass. After that, though? Something spooked him and he ran away from your next challenge. You best fuckin’ hope the same thing happens to me, huh? Because otherwise… this is as far as you go, Z.
‘But that’s the thing. That’s never going to happen. I have never backed down from a challenge. I have never showed fear or expressed doubt in the face of adversity. While after that whole Lincoln situation you were the TV Champ and had secured the two weakest belts in the federation… I was out here grinding and working my way out to the fuckin’ top, eclipsing both you and your boy Beau in a matter of months, winning the World Title and doing it quicker and better than you could ever manage.’
Now the entire store is hyping him up, even the workers are circling around Ryan, Jared and the cameraman as he murders these guys.
‘This is where we differ. I do what I want, when I want. I took my losses, ZMAC. I learned from my World Title opportunity and I took that loss like a fuckin’ man. When I came back? I evolved. I did something you could never do. While you’ve stagnated and been the same guy your entire career, I’ve continued to grow. I’ve honed my craft and am now an untouchable entity.
‘That aura I was talking about? That’s all it is with you. You can see through it if you’re not afraid. People like Lincoln and Casey? I’d fuckin’ smoke them any day of the week, no matter the conditions. Put me against either one of them in a one-on-one situation and they would crumble under the pressure.
‘Against me? They’d be broken. Against you? They show life. They show hope. They beat you down and while you come back again and again with the trolling and the antics… it doesn’t really matter, does it? You didn’t win.’
He snaps his fingers.
‘Just like that… the mystique is gone. The recipe to beating you is figured out. You drop your “roasts”, your “horrorkore” and “scathing” shoot… but I couldn’t care if I tried.
‘You expect me to be impressed now that you’ve “conquered” the tag team division? You lost to Red, White and Bruised, a team I could beat with my hands tied and both of my knees blown out by a shotgun. The only people you’ve beat in this “division” are Team Friendship and #FightSmart… who you were about to get beat by after your Daddy and Savior Spencer nearly killed you… if it wasn’t for #beachkrew coming in there to save your ass and give you your third title. You’re welcome, buddy.’
Jared does a mock cross with his fingers and whispers a prayer for the wrestler once known as SeaMAC.
‘You’re the definition of high floor, low ceiling. There is nothing about you that scares me or makes me second-guess myself. All I see in you is another “legend” of the game that I am about to take out. It will be effortless, it will be a virtuoso of a performance by myself. Then? It’ll hit you and the rest of the world.
‘There is no aura with me. This is just the level I’m at. This is where I stand, and where I currently am? It’s so far above anything you could imagine. This is something that cannot be touched by anybody on this roster, and you’re just another onlooker bearing witness to it all.'
The hype in the store is becoming unreal. People from outside are coming to see what the commotion is, as Ryan continues to go off. Jared meanwhile takes a sip from his takeaway cup.
‘And Jaice? I saw that look in your eye last week, you limp-dicked coward. When Camila announced you for that World Title match? You were surprised and excited… but then it hit you, didn’t it? You realized what you’d be coming up against, and that look turned straight into fear.
‘Cry all you want about how I won my belt. Call me a bitch. A coward. I don’t give a damn. I went willingly into a bloodbath against Shadowlove in the Execution Cage match. I had been one of the ONLY men to combat #FightSmart when they were at the height of their dominance… while people like you and the rest of the roster hid in fear. Not only did I dominate them, but I sent them packing all the way back down to the middle of the card - still a step above where you belong, mind you.
‘Was I a coward when I took on Corey Black and Dune and defended the pride of Action Wrestling, Jaice? When I stepped the fuck up and showed that this is MY federation? How about when in that same match I crushed the hopes and dreams of your little friend L Verez, who all of a sudden has the audacity to come crawling out from her shell of irrelevance and start throwing shots at us like The Guardians actually matter and are a reasonable threat to us.
‘Tell me, Jaice… was I a coward when I crushed you during our previous matches? When I beat you so bad that you followed through with the least exciting unmasking in the history of the sport? When I dominated you so thoroughly and showed you had no place at the top of the card with me, that you felt the need to relegate yourself all the way down to the 201 Division?
‘Your unmasking flopped so spectacularly, and your run in 201? You couldn’t even dominate that division, filled with people that I would literally one-shot. What the fuck kind of match-up is this, man? Is this the money match that management is looking for? Ryan Lockhart against some fuckin’ scrub not even fit to shine his shoes?
‘There is no fear here, Jaice. Just a monster that is going to destroy you. I don’t run from the challengers standing at the gate for my Championship - the select few that remain. I wanted to defend my belt every week of January, and management denied me that opportunity.
‘They know I would ruin every contender that stepped in my path. That’s why they’re delaying the inevitable, hoping and praying that somebody worth a damn will return and give me a decent match that they can hype up. You? You’re not that guy. And that’s why this week I will once again leave you battered and broken, leaving no doubt as to who will be walking out with the belt at #EFFINRAGER.’
He sighs, glancing at Jared.
‘Cutting it short?’
‘Yeah, there’s nothing more to say about this fool. This is going to be the most one-sided World Title match in wrestling history. There’s nothing left that Jaice can offer me to make me interested in him as an opponent. At least I haven’t gone up against Beau or McMorris before.’
‘Fair enough. We leaving? I’m out of training for #GetSonned.’
‘Who?’
‘My Magikarp.’
‘...yeah, we’re leaving.’
The Boston Hero and The 6ix God depart from the store, to the cheers of the crowd.
Ryan and Amber sit across from one another at a hookah bar, taking turns at blowing smoke out from their mouths and nostrils. She gives him a suggestive smile.
‘This is a little tame for you.’ she says, pointing at the hookah.
‘I don’t have any on me. Alexander borrowed it.’ he says, telling the lie with a straight face. She ignores his statement.
‘I missed you.’
The words pound through his skull and he feels himself becoming light-headed at the phrase. He had heard it countless times, but this one? It was different. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, bouncing his right leg up and down repeatedly in order to calm himself.
‘Yeah, I missed you too.’
There were so many questions to ask. But he didn't bother. He knew what this was. There was no romance to be found here.
Or was there?
She looked bored. She let a stream of smoke escape from the corner of her mouth, as she brushes a stray couple of hairs out from her face. A thought seems to pop up in her mind.
‘You’re World Champion now. That’s what you wanted, right?’
‘It was.’
She noted his choice of words.
‘So are you satisfied now? Have you found what you’re looking for?’
Ryan didn’t know what he was looking for. All he felt now was greed and lust. He shakes his head.
‘I don’t think so.’