#GetSauced (Frozen In Time - An Awakening)
Feb 20, 2019 0:14:54 GMT -5
Jordan, Alexander Pasternak, and 2 more like this
Post by Lockhart on Feb 20, 2019 0:14:54 GMT -5
There’s a moment of silence in the night, with only the soft hum of music to calm Ryan and his erratic thoughts. Jared was asleep and Wade was outside on a fold-out chair. His state of deep, contemplative thought was a worrying one - perhaps the trip to the Everglades hadn’t done him as much good as predicted. As for Alexander, he had gone on a stroll.
Ryan sighs as he rests ice on one set of knuckles, and then the other. Earlier he had decided to forego the formality of putting on gloves in favor of going to town on the bag with only wrapped fists. This wasn’t by choice, but by necessity. It helped sedate whatever monster rested within him for a while. He assumed the high of forming the #BeachKrew and winning the World Title had prevented him from succumbing to The Curse.
But the lust for blood and war had returned. The same one that triggered the moment Spencer Adams obliterated his skull with a steel chair. The one that came whenever he and Wade shared a ring together.
Taking the scalp of Nikki Vaughn hadn’t been enough to keep him content. The attack from Jaice had stirred it even further - The Curse was coming.
‘Who’d you scrap with?’ Alexander Pasternak said as he waltzed into the VolkSWAGGIN’ and nodded towards Ryan’s bruised hands.
‘Nobody.’ he replied. But you wish it was somebody, don’t you Ryan?
Alexander said nothing and sat across from him. His eyes dart around until they focus on a travel bag that Ryan has with him.
‘Going somewhere?’
I’m going to see your girlfriend, she texted me last week. The truth.
I’m getting an early trip to Philly to get some extra training in. A logical lie.
‘Just going to New York to meet a friend.’ he said.
Alexander purses his lips together, tapping the table twice with his index finger before getting up to his feet. He smiles.
‘See you later then, Champ.’
‘Yeah. Where were you, by the way?’
Alexander doesn’t look back at him as he exits.
‘Somewhere, nowhere. Does it really matter?’
The night before his flight to New York, Ryan stands on Santa Monica beach with the ocean at his back making up the background.
'Hello, everyone. Tonight, there will be nothing flashy about my execution. There will be no extravagance or showmanship - just a pure murder at the hands of your World Champion. I'm diving straight in, no holds barred. Try and keep up.
'Jaice you fuckin' coward, I want you to look me in the eye right now and answer some things.
'What did you do to earn your shot? Go back and forth with some people in a watered down division? I went 10-0 to get my first shot. I lost, and I accepted defeat like a man. By the time I had my second shot? I was THE MAN after swinging my nuts all over everyone at All-In and then months later cashing in on SJW (who I'd already beat twice) to give me a record of 18-2. This isn’t luck or circumstance, this is me being a fuckin’ monster that nobody can lay a finger on. That's why you're hiding behind the claim that I shouldn't be World Champ.
'But that’s all you do, make a narrative that is false to try and get people on your side. You're desperate for attention and for people to like you. Why else would you take off the mask and pledge allegiance to The Guardians? You knew you were flopping. You had nowhere to go. Nobody had a fuckin’ clue who you were and no-one cared. These are facts Jaice, my sweet little boy. How about you try spitting some instead of spreading misinformation?
'You skew the narrative into your favor and hope people don’t do their research and realize you’re a stupid fuckin' pleb. You never “speak the truth” like you say you do. You manipulate it and then throw it at people who are infinitely better than you.
'For instance, you say Alexander and I lost to #FightSmart for the Tag Titles? Are you dense? That match never happened. Nobody won. I didn’t give a single fuck about winning a tag belt - something that you’ve desperately tried to accomplish only to fail like the miserable sack of shit that you are. I’m above that shit.
'Now, believe me… I’m going to be proud of my boys when they win those straps like The Guardians never could... and I’ll defend those belts under free-bird rules if need be. But me? I don’t need that to give me credibility. I don’t need to hide away in the lower divisions like yourself to try and work my way up. The same can be said for Alexander and Wade. If I didn't have the belt right now? One of them would.'
He balls up his fist and points a thumb toward himself.
'As for me? I’m the best fuckin’ wrestler on this roster and I'll get those trinkets when I WANT to, not because I HAVE to like you do. One day, after I’ve wrapped up my record-breaking World Title reign, I’ll look into my room and see that belt up on the wall and think “hmm, he’s looking a bit lonely up there all by himself” and then? I’ll go out and win some more. Scratch that - I’ll win ALL of them.
'This is the level that I’m at. I’ll challenge any champion from any division and I'll grind them into dust and leave them wondering why the fuck they’re even bothering pretending that they’re worth something. You’ll know the feeling after I’m through with you at #EFFINRAGER, Jaice.
'Speaking of our match... why do you think Camila tried to “stack the odds” against me? Does this look like someone who is confident in your ability to win a one-on-one match against me at a PPV main-event for the World Heavyweight Title? No. It’s someone who is fuckin’ scared shitless for your safety and well-being. She doesn’t believe you have what it takes - she knows I’m an absolute fuckin’ demon in that ring… and that I’m the best one-on-one wrestler that this world will ever see. This is not subjective. You will understand just how big the gap between us is after I've eviscerated you, smothered my balls all over your face, and sent you running back to the 201 Division with your tail between your legs.
'I couldn’t care about The Guardians being present, or about #BeachKrew being banned. When have I needed my boys to interfere on my behalf? And as for The Guardians? If you get rid of Fight Smart from the conversation… The Guardians are the next-up in terms of being my personal nut-rag. I’ve beat Alex Richards, L Verez, Claire Hawkins and you already. Fuck, can we bring in Bonnie and Omega so I can just say that I’ve thoroughly dicked down this entire stable? Then we won’t have to hear you fuckin’ losers screaming about how you’re the premiere faction in the federation… even though you couldn’t get a win over #BeachKrew if your life depended on it. Put a gun to the head of L Verez or Kidsgrove and say to them: “Beat Wade Moor in a one-on-one match and I’ll let you live” and they’ll still get smoked.
'Do the same to you. Firing squad aimed at you, your friends and family. They say: “Jaice, defeat Ryan for the World Heavyweight Title and you all survive.” and this is what would happen.'
A GIF flashes on screen.
We return to Ryan, smirking.
'There is no amount of motivation or excitement that you can have that will propel you into beating me. I don’t give a fuck about the stipulation. Put us in the same ring, and I will beat you every single time. This isn’t a matter of there being a “99.9% chance of me winning”. This is Michael Jordan on a wide-open fast-break. This is a boxer not moving his head off the center line and I’m Roy Jones Jr. coming to knock your fuckin’ head off. This is Ryan Lockhart stepping into a one-on-one match against Jaice Wilds for the ultimate prize… it’s fuckin’ elementary, my guy. This is the biggest formality of a World Title match you'll ever see, and the best part?
He spreads his arms wide, grinning.
'You’ve got the best seat in the house. It’ll be a night you’ll always remember, because after this? You won’t be the same. The arrogance you have? That sense of superiority? They’ll leave you the moment I break you in the center of that ring, and then? You’ll fade back into irrelevancy where you belong.
'And believe me when I say I’ll do the same thing to the rest of your damn squad if they step up to me. The Guardians are fuckin’ pathetic. You’re a gang of spastics who act like depressed, edgy teenagers. You fuckers sulk and mope when you’re getting your asses handed to you, but the moment you feel the slightest touch of success? You get high off of it. Suddenly, you believe you're the best. In reality, though? You’re all mediocre performers that I would stomp into the dirt if you ever tried to come at me.
'That's where our groups differ. #BeachKrew features some of the greatest talents to grace a wrestling ring. We know exactly how good we are. Wins? Accolades? Titles? They come naturally. They don’t validate us, we validate them. You see this World Title and you cower from it. You think you want it, but deep down you know what happens if you get to call it your own. You can’t handle the responsibility that comes with being regarded as the “best wrestler on the planet.” But me? I thrive on it. It’s who I am. It’s what I was destined to be. This is not a level you can all of a sudden attain just because you think you’re some sort of fuckin’ hero.
'You didn’t enter the Hyperbolic Time Chamber and become exponentially more powerful or skilled. You’re still the fuckin’ geek that you’ve always been. You’re still the same scrub that's only won and lost a 201 Title that ZMAC wiped his ass with. You’re still the same guy that can’t separate fact from fiction, and instead just slaps it all together and prays that he’s right in some fashion. That’s your entire career in a nutshell. You throw endless quantities of shit at a wall and hope something sticks - but it never does. Nobody associates you with anything. Even in your own stable you’re a fuckin’ joke. When people think of The Guardians, they think of Bonnie, Richards or Omega. Not you. You occupy the same space as Damian Kaine - a low-tier underling with no outstanding qualities or feats. Just a retard tagging along for the ride.
'You are nothing but a sacrificial lamb. Management is waiting for anybody worth a damn to return and give me a match that won’t be a total whitewash. Hell, they’re probably banking on myself or Wade betraying one another so we can go at it again for the third time and bring in the real money match - not this murder that they’ve sent me to commit against you.
'You HAD one saving grace, Jaice. One silver lining... you were meant to be the good guy. But no, you’ve even managed to fuck that up. The last few weeks, you’ve proven that you’re nothing but a spoiled, hypocritical, self-entitled brat who deserves to get slapped down to his rightful position on the card.
'How do I figure this? Look at your track record. You are an abysmal competitor who shouldn’t be getting a whiff of the belt, let alone competing for it. You twist every story to fit your fucked up world. I shouldn’t be World Champion? Listen here you fuckin’ runt, after this match I will have defended my title for the fourth time. I’m going out on a limb here and ASSUMING (see, Jaice? When I'm not sure, I don't state it to be a fact) that this will be the most proper World Title defenses in AW history.
'You’ll sit there and sneer at this. You’ll try discredit me. You’ll still say that I’m a paper champion and I didn’t earn it… but where were these criticisms when Spencer only defended the belt ONCE in his “record” World Title reign of 76 days? I’m still a few weeks away from that mark and I’ve already defended more than he ever did.
That's how it goes with you, isn't it Jaice? You’re aren’t a good guy like you pretend you are. You aren’t some truth-spitting hero that everyone should adore. You’re a fuckin’ abomination that only wants to be a justice warrior when it benefits him. You pick and choose your moments to come crawling from out of the woodwork like the insignificant rat that you are. Where were you when FightSmart were running rampant over the federation and held the World Title purely due to unfair circumstances? I didn’t see you complaining about Kemp running out and winning Spencer the belt, or about Spencer being an unworthy champion due to not defending the belt.
'You didn't even ATTEMPT to save the federation. Nope. All I remember was Wade Moor and myself going out there and shutting them the fuck down. We were the people that AW needed to wipe out that shit-stain of a stable and bring them down to reality. You? The supposed good guy in this situation? You did nothing. You let everyone else get put down. You hid away like a frightened little girl while Big Papi Ryan and Big Papi Wade took out the monsters hiding beneath your bed. You’re a fuckin’ bitch. Straight up. No lies here.
So whatever you do... spare me the philosophy lesson. I don’t need to hear your mind-numbing promos about how I’m a bad guy and I have zero credibility. It’s wrong and you know it. And after I’m done caving your face in? You’ll be bowing down and talking about how I “fought you fair and square like a true champion" like I haven’t been doing that the entire fuckin’ time I’ve wrestled here, yeah? 23 wins. 2 defeats. All of them clean. All of them with no excuses. I’ve taken my victories with pride and I’ve taken my losses on the chin. I don’t blame others for my circumstances or my own personal failings - something that you could learn a thing or two about, Jaice.
'At #EFFINRAGER, I end this. There will be no doubt, no questions. It'll just be the best wrestler on the planet retaining his World Title in dominant fashion. Farewell, fuccboi.
The next morning I catch a flight to New York City, and then begin the trip to Brighton Beach. I don’t like lying to Alexander about where I’m headed. I don’t even know if he’ll care. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Fuck it, I’ll just tell him next time I see him.
Not long after our first text exchange, Jana hit me up with the address of her and Alex’s home. I never told her if I would come, which would have been the “right” thing to do. But why bother? I’m either be there or I won't.
I end up stumbling my way through the streets to find the apartment. I rap my knuckles on the door three times and wince in pain, forgetting they're bruised. The door opens to reveal what I assume to be Jana. She looks tired, probably hasn’t slept in days. There are tiny red cracks in her eyes and her shoulders are slumped, as though she has the entire world bearing down on her.
It kinda feels like I’m looking into a mirror.
‘Hi, Ryan.’
‘Hi.’
‘Come in.’
The interaction is hollow, lifeless. We're doing our best impressions of human beings.
She leads me through their apartment. There’s some cracks in the walls, some stains on the carpets, but nothing out of the ordinary - I've lived in worse. Jana smells of smoke and a faint scent of vanilla; the whole apartment does. We pass by a frayed couch. She nods to it and I sit.
‘Want anything? A smoke, or somethin’? Drink?’
‘Nah, I’m good.’
She shrugs and sits across from me in an old armchair. She already has a cigarette in hand and has lit it. She takes a drag and the smoke seeps from her lips. It rises to the roof and then disperses to where I can no longer see it.
‘So uhh, you’re probably wonderin’ why I wanted to talk.'
Before I can answer, she continues.
‘I’ve just been hearin’ some shit and… well fuck, I just want some straight answers. I know damn well Alex won’t give me any. He won’t even answer my calls. None of you do. Surprised your number was real, honestly.'
I chuckle. 'I'm here, aren't I? Anyway, what's up?'
‘What do you know about him? Alex, I mean.’ she says.
What do I say to that? There’s plenty to say, but what does she want? I go for the kind approach.
‘He’s a good kid-’
‘He’s 23.’
‘I’m 24. I can say that.’ I say, smiling. She matches it, albeit weakly.
‘He’s talented. Smarter than he’s given credit for… and he’s not the asshole people make him out to be. I would know a thing or two about being misjudged like that.’ I go to say more, but I trail off.
‘But?’
‘I don’t know, really. There’s something beneath it all, I guess. Same with everyone, right? The face we show the world, and then who we really are? It's just a matter of expressing that inner-self.'
Great advice, Ryan. Take it yourself, you fuckin’ imbecile.
Jana doesn’t seem convinced, she inhales more smoke and then blows it out the side of her mouth,.
‘I’m askin’ because I got a call from Gerald Pendleton. Do you remember him…?’
‘Nope.'
‘Socked him in the face and broke his nose? You and Alex met him in LA and-'
‘Ah, yeah. I remember. He was mad that some business deal didn’t go as planned. I think Alex finessed him or some shit.’
‘Finessed him?'
‘Yep. Alex told him the deal was off, I punched the dude and then we bounced with his stash.’
I can tell I said something wrong. She closes her eyes. When she opens them, she’s on the verge of tears. She doesn’t cry, too prideful to do so in front of a complete stranger. She gathers herself.
‘And then…?’
‘What do you mean?'
‘Did you guys do the fuckin’ coke, or what?’ she says sharply.
So this is what it’s all about, huh? Poor girl doesn’t know she was sold a false bill of goods? A pang of guilt hits me, but my words are anything but consoling.
‘Why would it matter if he did? It’s up to him to decide how he wants to live.'
‘Oh, so it doesn’t matter if he fuckin’ hurts me in the process?’
She sighs, the look in her eyes is filled with disdain.
‘Are you guys all the same? You, Wade, Jared, Alex? Do you think it’s okay to just…’
She sniffles, there’s a tear streaking down her cheek.
‘To hurt people and not give a fuck? To do whatever you damn well please and... and fuck what happens to everyone else and how they feel?'
I could lie, tell her he's clean and that it was all for me. But then I’d just be proving her point, wouldn’t I?
She wipes her eyes, her face is flushed red.
‘I can’t keep going on like this. Please just tell me… did he do it? want to… I NEED to know.’
I don't got it in me to lie.
‘He did. I’m sorry.'
A moment frozen in time.
‘Would you mind uhh…’ her voice wavers.
‘Leaving? I kinda need to be alone.'
I can’t get any words out. What more can I say? How do I console someone who has been wronged when I can't improve the situation?
I leave. By the time I’ve shut the door, her sobs are echoing through my ears and I hear something break. The door hardly muffles the sounds; my stomach forms knots.
Looking into Alexander is another damned mirror. The state he left Jana in… is this how all the people that I surround myself with feel? Or the people I’ve neglected? Amber, Mark, my mother, my siblings who I don’t even see anymore. Is this what I've done to them?
I need to get out of here.
A rundown gym on the outskirts of Philadelphia, the lights flicker and there is nobody present except for Ryan, who is covered in beads of sweat that leave his hair matted and weighing down upon his face. He looks down at his arms, chest and legs, hard veins popping from beneath the surface. His body appears larger than usual, signifying that there is something lurking beneath, ready to explode.
Ryan crosses his legs and then clenches his fists. A sharp intake of breath and an exhale later, and his body has reverted to its natural state. He flashes a perfect smile at the camera.
'I think I'm starting to get the hang of this evil spirit that's inside of me, Jaice. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think I'll be needing him to clean you up at #EFFINRAGER.
'Do you think I'm afraid? That I'm scared of you and your posse that are going to be surrounding me come MY pay-per-view? I hope not. That would be an egregious error on your behalf. If I was worried that your friends would have any effect on the outcome of this match, I would have put them down long ago, systematically taking them out one by one until it was just you and me left in that ring alone.
'But no, I want them to witness this. I'm beginning to control... everything. There is no man or monster that can bend my will and force me under their spell. I will not come out of the gates hungry for blood, I will not make mistakes that will allow you to capture my championship through a fluke or through my own doing.
'The Curse is fading. His power is becoming my power. Whatever instincts he awakened are no longer primal, they can be harnessed and used while still maintaining my consciousness and awareness.
'It's still raw, but it's getting there. One step closer to further breaking my limits and cementing myself as The Greatest of All Time.'
He points at the camera.
'This is all I ever wanted, Jaice. When you were announced as contender? I was disappointed, sure. But I saw opportunity. I WANTED your friends to witness your demise, I WANT the people to cheer for you. Because after I've pummeled you into nothing and you're left shattered in that ring... they'll all realize something.
'I'm their hero. I'm the only AW Original to hold the World Title. I'm the man who beat back the invaders of Corey Black and Dune, the man who fought alongside Wade to rid this place of FightSmart at the top of the food chain while they bullied the rest of the weak, timid roster.
'The people can call me a monster or a vile human, and you know what? Maybe they're right.
'But I am THEIR Champion, #BeachKrew is THEIR savior. Whether it be defending them from incompetent wrestlers or management, we will be there every step of the way.
'This is our era. You're welcome to enjoy it.
'Just be sure not to fall beneath the crashing waves.'
Cut to static.
Ryan sighs as he rests ice on one set of knuckles, and then the other. Earlier he had decided to forego the formality of putting on gloves in favor of going to town on the bag with only wrapped fists. This wasn’t by choice, but by necessity. It helped sedate whatever monster rested within him for a while. He assumed the high of forming the #BeachKrew and winning the World Title had prevented him from succumbing to The Curse.
But the lust for blood and war had returned. The same one that triggered the moment Spencer Adams obliterated his skull with a steel chair. The one that came whenever he and Wade shared a ring together.
Taking the scalp of Nikki Vaughn hadn’t been enough to keep him content. The attack from Jaice had stirred it even further - The Curse was coming.
‘Who’d you scrap with?’ Alexander Pasternak said as he waltzed into the VolkSWAGGIN’ and nodded towards Ryan’s bruised hands.
‘Nobody.’ he replied. But you wish it was somebody, don’t you Ryan?
Alexander said nothing and sat across from him. His eyes dart around until they focus on a travel bag that Ryan has with him.
‘Going somewhere?’
I’m going to see your girlfriend, she texted me last week. The truth.
I’m getting an early trip to Philly to get some extra training in. A logical lie.
‘Just going to New York to meet a friend.’ he said.
Alexander purses his lips together, tapping the table twice with his index finger before getting up to his feet. He smiles.
‘See you later then, Champ.’
‘Yeah. Where were you, by the way?’
Alexander doesn’t look back at him as he exits.
‘Somewhere, nowhere. Does it really matter?’
The night before his flight to New York, Ryan stands on Santa Monica beach with the ocean at his back making up the background.
'Hello, everyone. Tonight, there will be nothing flashy about my execution. There will be no extravagance or showmanship - just a pure murder at the hands of your World Champion. I'm diving straight in, no holds barred. Try and keep up.
'Jaice you fuckin' coward, I want you to look me in the eye right now and answer some things.
'What did you do to earn your shot? Go back and forth with some people in a watered down division? I went 10-0 to get my first shot. I lost, and I accepted defeat like a man. By the time I had my second shot? I was THE MAN after swinging my nuts all over everyone at All-In and then months later cashing in on SJW (who I'd already beat twice) to give me a record of 18-2. This isn’t luck or circumstance, this is me being a fuckin’ monster that nobody can lay a finger on. That's why you're hiding behind the claim that I shouldn't be World Champ.
'But that’s all you do, make a narrative that is false to try and get people on your side. You're desperate for attention and for people to like you. Why else would you take off the mask and pledge allegiance to The Guardians? You knew you were flopping. You had nowhere to go. Nobody had a fuckin’ clue who you were and no-one cared. These are facts Jaice, my sweet little boy. How about you try spitting some instead of spreading misinformation?
'You skew the narrative into your favor and hope people don’t do their research and realize you’re a stupid fuckin' pleb. You never “speak the truth” like you say you do. You manipulate it and then throw it at people who are infinitely better than you.
'For instance, you say Alexander and I lost to #FightSmart for the Tag Titles? Are you dense? That match never happened. Nobody won. I didn’t give a single fuck about winning a tag belt - something that you’ve desperately tried to accomplish only to fail like the miserable sack of shit that you are. I’m above that shit.
'Now, believe me… I’m going to be proud of my boys when they win those straps like The Guardians never could... and I’ll defend those belts under free-bird rules if need be. But me? I don’t need that to give me credibility. I don’t need to hide away in the lower divisions like yourself to try and work my way up. The same can be said for Alexander and Wade. If I didn't have the belt right now? One of them would.'
He balls up his fist and points a thumb toward himself.
'As for me? I’m the best fuckin’ wrestler on this roster and I'll get those trinkets when I WANT to, not because I HAVE to like you do. One day, after I’ve wrapped up my record-breaking World Title reign, I’ll look into my room and see that belt up on the wall and think “hmm, he’s looking a bit lonely up there all by himself” and then? I’ll go out and win some more. Scratch that - I’ll win ALL of them.
'This is the level that I’m at. I’ll challenge any champion from any division and I'll grind them into dust and leave them wondering why the fuck they’re even bothering pretending that they’re worth something. You’ll know the feeling after I’m through with you at #EFFINRAGER, Jaice.
'Speaking of our match... why do you think Camila tried to “stack the odds” against me? Does this look like someone who is confident in your ability to win a one-on-one match against me at a PPV main-event for the World Heavyweight Title? No. It’s someone who is fuckin’ scared shitless for your safety and well-being. She doesn’t believe you have what it takes - she knows I’m an absolute fuckin’ demon in that ring… and that I’m the best one-on-one wrestler that this world will ever see. This is not subjective. You will understand just how big the gap between us is after I've eviscerated you, smothered my balls all over your face, and sent you running back to the 201 Division with your tail between your legs.
'I couldn’t care about The Guardians being present, or about #BeachKrew being banned. When have I needed my boys to interfere on my behalf? And as for The Guardians? If you get rid of Fight Smart from the conversation… The Guardians are the next-up in terms of being my personal nut-rag. I’ve beat Alex Richards, L Verez, Claire Hawkins and you already. Fuck, can we bring in Bonnie and Omega so I can just say that I’ve thoroughly dicked down this entire stable? Then we won’t have to hear you fuckin’ losers screaming about how you’re the premiere faction in the federation… even though you couldn’t get a win over #BeachKrew if your life depended on it. Put a gun to the head of L Verez or Kidsgrove and say to them: “Beat Wade Moor in a one-on-one match and I’ll let you live” and they’ll still get smoked.
'Do the same to you. Firing squad aimed at you, your friends and family. They say: “Jaice, defeat Ryan for the World Heavyweight Title and you all survive.” and this is what would happen.'
A GIF flashes on screen.
We return to Ryan, smirking.
'There is no amount of motivation or excitement that you can have that will propel you into beating me. I don’t give a fuck about the stipulation. Put us in the same ring, and I will beat you every single time. This isn’t a matter of there being a “99.9% chance of me winning”. This is Michael Jordan on a wide-open fast-break. This is a boxer not moving his head off the center line and I’m Roy Jones Jr. coming to knock your fuckin’ head off. This is Ryan Lockhart stepping into a one-on-one match against Jaice Wilds for the ultimate prize… it’s fuckin’ elementary, my guy. This is the biggest formality of a World Title match you'll ever see, and the best part?
He spreads his arms wide, grinning.
'You’ve got the best seat in the house. It’ll be a night you’ll always remember, because after this? You won’t be the same. The arrogance you have? That sense of superiority? They’ll leave you the moment I break you in the center of that ring, and then? You’ll fade back into irrelevancy where you belong.
'And believe me when I say I’ll do the same thing to the rest of your damn squad if they step up to me. The Guardians are fuckin’ pathetic. You’re a gang of spastics who act like depressed, edgy teenagers. You fuckers sulk and mope when you’re getting your asses handed to you, but the moment you feel the slightest touch of success? You get high off of it. Suddenly, you believe you're the best. In reality, though? You’re all mediocre performers that I would stomp into the dirt if you ever tried to come at me.
'That's where our groups differ. #BeachKrew features some of the greatest talents to grace a wrestling ring. We know exactly how good we are. Wins? Accolades? Titles? They come naturally. They don’t validate us, we validate them. You see this World Title and you cower from it. You think you want it, but deep down you know what happens if you get to call it your own. You can’t handle the responsibility that comes with being regarded as the “best wrestler on the planet.” But me? I thrive on it. It’s who I am. It’s what I was destined to be. This is not a level you can all of a sudden attain just because you think you’re some sort of fuckin’ hero.
'You didn’t enter the Hyperbolic Time Chamber and become exponentially more powerful or skilled. You’re still the fuckin’ geek that you’ve always been. You’re still the same scrub that's only won and lost a 201 Title that ZMAC wiped his ass with. You’re still the same guy that can’t separate fact from fiction, and instead just slaps it all together and prays that he’s right in some fashion. That’s your entire career in a nutshell. You throw endless quantities of shit at a wall and hope something sticks - but it never does. Nobody associates you with anything. Even in your own stable you’re a fuckin’ joke. When people think of The Guardians, they think of Bonnie, Richards or Omega. Not you. You occupy the same space as Damian Kaine - a low-tier underling with no outstanding qualities or feats. Just a retard tagging along for the ride.
'You are nothing but a sacrificial lamb. Management is waiting for anybody worth a damn to return and give me a match that won’t be a total whitewash. Hell, they’re probably banking on myself or Wade betraying one another so we can go at it again for the third time and bring in the real money match - not this murder that they’ve sent me to commit against you.
'You HAD one saving grace, Jaice. One silver lining... you were meant to be the good guy. But no, you’ve even managed to fuck that up. The last few weeks, you’ve proven that you’re nothing but a spoiled, hypocritical, self-entitled brat who deserves to get slapped down to his rightful position on the card.
'How do I figure this? Look at your track record. You are an abysmal competitor who shouldn’t be getting a whiff of the belt, let alone competing for it. You twist every story to fit your fucked up world. I shouldn’t be World Champion? Listen here you fuckin’ runt, after this match I will have defended my title for the fourth time. I’m going out on a limb here and ASSUMING (see, Jaice? When I'm not sure, I don't state it to be a fact) that this will be the most proper World Title defenses in AW history.
'You’ll sit there and sneer at this. You’ll try discredit me. You’ll still say that I’m a paper champion and I didn’t earn it… but where were these criticisms when Spencer only defended the belt ONCE in his “record” World Title reign of 76 days? I’m still a few weeks away from that mark and I’ve already defended more than he ever did.
That's how it goes with you, isn't it Jaice? You’re aren’t a good guy like you pretend you are. You aren’t some truth-spitting hero that everyone should adore. You’re a fuckin’ abomination that only wants to be a justice warrior when it benefits him. You pick and choose your moments to come crawling from out of the woodwork like the insignificant rat that you are. Where were you when FightSmart were running rampant over the federation and held the World Title purely due to unfair circumstances? I didn’t see you complaining about Kemp running out and winning Spencer the belt, or about Spencer being an unworthy champion due to not defending the belt.
'You didn't even ATTEMPT to save the federation. Nope. All I remember was Wade Moor and myself going out there and shutting them the fuck down. We were the people that AW needed to wipe out that shit-stain of a stable and bring them down to reality. You? The supposed good guy in this situation? You did nothing. You let everyone else get put down. You hid away like a frightened little girl while Big Papi Ryan and Big Papi Wade took out the monsters hiding beneath your bed. You’re a fuckin’ bitch. Straight up. No lies here.
So whatever you do... spare me the philosophy lesson. I don’t need to hear your mind-numbing promos about how I’m a bad guy and I have zero credibility. It’s wrong and you know it. And after I’m done caving your face in? You’ll be bowing down and talking about how I “fought you fair and square like a true champion" like I haven’t been doing that the entire fuckin’ time I’ve wrestled here, yeah? 23 wins. 2 defeats. All of them clean. All of them with no excuses. I’ve taken my victories with pride and I’ve taken my losses on the chin. I don’t blame others for my circumstances or my own personal failings - something that you could learn a thing or two about, Jaice.
'At #EFFINRAGER, I end this. There will be no doubt, no questions. It'll just be the best wrestler on the planet retaining his World Title in dominant fashion. Farewell, fuccboi.
The next morning I catch a flight to New York City, and then begin the trip to Brighton Beach. I don’t like lying to Alexander about where I’m headed. I don’t even know if he’ll care. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Fuck it, I’ll just tell him next time I see him.
Not long after our first text exchange, Jana hit me up with the address of her and Alex’s home. I never told her if I would come, which would have been the “right” thing to do. But why bother? I’m either be there or I won't.
I end up stumbling my way through the streets to find the apartment. I rap my knuckles on the door three times and wince in pain, forgetting they're bruised. The door opens to reveal what I assume to be Jana. She looks tired, probably hasn’t slept in days. There are tiny red cracks in her eyes and her shoulders are slumped, as though she has the entire world bearing down on her.
It kinda feels like I’m looking into a mirror.
‘Hi, Ryan.’
‘Hi.’
‘Come in.’
The interaction is hollow, lifeless. We're doing our best impressions of human beings.
She leads me through their apartment. There’s some cracks in the walls, some stains on the carpets, but nothing out of the ordinary - I've lived in worse. Jana smells of smoke and a faint scent of vanilla; the whole apartment does. We pass by a frayed couch. She nods to it and I sit.
‘Want anything? A smoke, or somethin’? Drink?’
‘Nah, I’m good.’
She shrugs and sits across from me in an old armchair. She already has a cigarette in hand and has lit it. She takes a drag and the smoke seeps from her lips. It rises to the roof and then disperses to where I can no longer see it.
‘So uhh, you’re probably wonderin’ why I wanted to talk.'
Before I can answer, she continues.
‘I’ve just been hearin’ some shit and… well fuck, I just want some straight answers. I know damn well Alex won’t give me any. He won’t even answer my calls. None of you do. Surprised your number was real, honestly.'
I chuckle. 'I'm here, aren't I? Anyway, what's up?'
‘What do you know about him? Alex, I mean.’ she says.
What do I say to that? There’s plenty to say, but what does she want? I go for the kind approach.
‘He’s a good kid-’
‘He’s 23.’
‘I’m 24. I can say that.’ I say, smiling. She matches it, albeit weakly.
‘He’s talented. Smarter than he’s given credit for… and he’s not the asshole people make him out to be. I would know a thing or two about being misjudged like that.’ I go to say more, but I trail off.
‘But?’
‘I don’t know, really. There’s something beneath it all, I guess. Same with everyone, right? The face we show the world, and then who we really are? It's just a matter of expressing that inner-self.'
Great advice, Ryan. Take it yourself, you fuckin’ imbecile.
Jana doesn’t seem convinced, she inhales more smoke and then blows it out the side of her mouth,.
‘I’m askin’ because I got a call from Gerald Pendleton. Do you remember him…?’
‘Nope.'
‘Socked him in the face and broke his nose? You and Alex met him in LA and-'
‘Ah, yeah. I remember. He was mad that some business deal didn’t go as planned. I think Alex finessed him or some shit.’
‘Finessed him?'
‘Yep. Alex told him the deal was off, I punched the dude and then we bounced with his stash.’
I can tell I said something wrong. She closes her eyes. When she opens them, she’s on the verge of tears. She doesn’t cry, too prideful to do so in front of a complete stranger. She gathers herself.
‘And then…?’
‘What do you mean?'
‘Did you guys do the fuckin’ coke, or what?’ she says sharply.
So this is what it’s all about, huh? Poor girl doesn’t know she was sold a false bill of goods? A pang of guilt hits me, but my words are anything but consoling.
‘Why would it matter if he did? It’s up to him to decide how he wants to live.'
‘Oh, so it doesn’t matter if he fuckin’ hurts me in the process?’
She sighs, the look in her eyes is filled with disdain.
‘Are you guys all the same? You, Wade, Jared, Alex? Do you think it’s okay to just…’
She sniffles, there’s a tear streaking down her cheek.
‘To hurt people and not give a fuck? To do whatever you damn well please and... and fuck what happens to everyone else and how they feel?'
I could lie, tell her he's clean and that it was all for me. But then I’d just be proving her point, wouldn’t I?
She wipes her eyes, her face is flushed red.
‘I can’t keep going on like this. Please just tell me… did he do it? want to… I NEED to know.’
I don't got it in me to lie.
‘He did. I’m sorry.'
A moment frozen in time.
‘Would you mind uhh…’ her voice wavers.
‘Leaving? I kinda need to be alone.'
I can’t get any words out. What more can I say? How do I console someone who has been wronged when I can't improve the situation?
I leave. By the time I’ve shut the door, her sobs are echoing through my ears and I hear something break. The door hardly muffles the sounds; my stomach forms knots.
Looking into Alexander is another damned mirror. The state he left Jana in… is this how all the people that I surround myself with feel? Or the people I’ve neglected? Amber, Mark, my mother, my siblings who I don’t even see anymore. Is this what I've done to them?
I need to get out of here.
A rundown gym on the outskirts of Philadelphia, the lights flicker and there is nobody present except for Ryan, who is covered in beads of sweat that leave his hair matted and weighing down upon his face. He looks down at his arms, chest and legs, hard veins popping from beneath the surface. His body appears larger than usual, signifying that there is something lurking beneath, ready to explode.
Ryan crosses his legs and then clenches his fists. A sharp intake of breath and an exhale later, and his body has reverted to its natural state. He flashes a perfect smile at the camera.
'I think I'm starting to get the hang of this evil spirit that's inside of me, Jaice. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think I'll be needing him to clean you up at #EFFINRAGER.
'Do you think I'm afraid? That I'm scared of you and your posse that are going to be surrounding me come MY pay-per-view? I hope not. That would be an egregious error on your behalf. If I was worried that your friends would have any effect on the outcome of this match, I would have put them down long ago, systematically taking them out one by one until it was just you and me left in that ring alone.
'But no, I want them to witness this. I'm beginning to control... everything. There is no man or monster that can bend my will and force me under their spell. I will not come out of the gates hungry for blood, I will not make mistakes that will allow you to capture my championship through a fluke or through my own doing.
'The Curse is fading. His power is becoming my power. Whatever instincts he awakened are no longer primal, they can be harnessed and used while still maintaining my consciousness and awareness.
'It's still raw, but it's getting there. One step closer to further breaking my limits and cementing myself as The Greatest of All Time.'
He points at the camera.
'This is all I ever wanted, Jaice. When you were announced as contender? I was disappointed, sure. But I saw opportunity. I WANTED your friends to witness your demise, I WANT the people to cheer for you. Because after I've pummeled you into nothing and you're left shattered in that ring... they'll all realize something.
'I'm their hero. I'm the only AW Original to hold the World Title. I'm the man who beat back the invaders of Corey Black and Dune, the man who fought alongside Wade to rid this place of FightSmart at the top of the food chain while they bullied the rest of the weak, timid roster.
'The people can call me a monster or a vile human, and you know what? Maybe they're right.
'But I am THEIR Champion, #BeachKrew is THEIR savior. Whether it be defending them from incompetent wrestlers or management, we will be there every step of the way.
'This is our era. You're welcome to enjoy it.
'Just be sure not to fall beneath the crashing waves.'
Cut to static.