Post by Markw on Nov 29, 2013 19:18:14 GMT -5
Scars & Stripes – Felo-de-se
THUD!
My body crumpled, my head and feet occupying the same space for a moment. Spluttering, choking and then... and then nothing. Just darkness.
That was it, the next thing I knew I was looking up at an arrogant, cocky, repulsively neat, rich, has-been stood in the centre of the ring, my ring. Looking up at a man, who had beaten me, fair and square.
People sometimes talk about the world 'crashing down' around them, and to me that sounds stupid, or at least, it sounded stupid. But now, now I know exactly how that feels.
Six matches in a row had ended in victory, but when it really matters, when I really want it, I always find a way to
it up. I find a way to blow every last shot at glory. I can win when no one cares, I can win this second-rate belt, I can defend it without lifting a finger, but the victories I crave, the titles I want, are the ones that are so elusive. They're the ones that I can't win, no matter how hard I try. No matter how many hours I train, no matter how much blood is shed, no matter how many tears are cried, no matter how much sweat drips from my skin, those victories just don't come.In many respects my career as a professional wrestler mirrors my life perfectly, the stuff that doesn't matter, the stuff that I don't care about, I take to like a duck to water. But the thing that matter, the things that I really need, I just can't get, and if somehow I manage it, if I finally get what I need, I find a way to f*** it all up.
They say 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again'. I've tried, I've tried again and again and again and again, and I've failed again... again... again... and again.
I'm done.
it. the WFWF. wrestling.I'm sick of chasing something that's always out of reach. I'm tired of putting my body on the line night after night and having nothing to show for it.
I've had en...
I've...
I've had enough of my lifeline.
Sigh.
---
To Jake & Jessica,
I found a photo on my laptop a couple of days ago. A picture of the three of us outside Madison Square Garden, we were queuing to get into the first ever edition of Loaded. I, of course, was pretending that I was having a terrible time, while the two of you couldn't have hidden your excitement if you'd tried.
I love that photo but for the exact same reasons, I hate it.
It reminded me of a moment, where for once in my miserable life, I was truly happy. I was alive.
But it also reminded me I
I can't go back. With each passing day, each second, it gets further and further away from my grasp. I'll never be as happy as I was that day. I'll never be as alive as I was on that day. I can't cope with that.
I'm not writing this to to lay blame, I am guilty, I am responsible and I accept that. This is down to me. My punishment will be my salvation.
I am writing, simply to say this,
Jake, Jessica, I love you, I always have and I will till my final breath.
I'm sorry.
---
Four weeks ago I was on top of the world, or at least, on top of the WFWF. I stood tall over all opponents at Battleground, I was triumphant. The fastest rising star in the WFWF, the current National Champion, surely the next International Champion and soon to be the youngest ever winner of WFWF Scars & Stripes. I had already earned a shot at Trace Demon's International Championship, a chance to end his impressive winning streak, I was in pole position to take the WFWF by storm and prove to the entire world what I'm capable of.
But I let him get into my head. I let his mind games mess with me, and now, well now, I'm a joke. I'm literally last in everybody's list of potential Scars & Stripes winners when just a few weeks ago I was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
But being cheated out of that shot at Demon, killed me, losing my chance to right the wrongs, killed me. It tore me apart. I'm now insignificant, a nobody, a man who can be comfortably overlooked. Jake Slash doesn't envy me.
He really doesn't.
Congratulations Trace, you've beaten me, you've kicked me down, trampled me into the dirt. What's depressing is that unlike with Yukio and Scarlett, you didn't even bother to notice that you did it.
You didn't... you don't even care.
That's what really hurts.
Much as I'd like to make you pay for it, I don't think I can. I've lost it. Even if I had the drive to do it, I don't think I'd have enough strength left in me, to pull it off. I'll have to slip away and let someone else lead the revolution. I'll have to sit back and let someone else complete the coup. And while it's a shame that I won't be around to see the execution, I know we won't end up in the same place, and that's something.
---
'Nothing sucks more then feeling all alone, no matter how many people are around.' - John Dorian
I'm so tired. Drained. I can't keep going, I can't keep forcing myself to get out of bed morning, after morning, after morning. I can't keep pretending that everything's fine.
I can't keep up this façade.
I can't keep telling myself that things are going to get better, I've done that for three years, and it hasn't. It never gets better. The pain never subsides.
It just keeps going, wearing me down, breaking my spirit, crushing my hope.
I've tried everything to escape it, I've tried everything to pull myself out of this spiral.
Everything's failed.
I've got no one to turn to, no one to talk to, no one to live for. I'm almost a celebrity, I'm on TV every week, I'm basically famous, I'm constantly surrounded by people who... adore me... apparently. But despite that, I'm still alone.
I've always relied on professional wrestling to distract me from the crap that seems to follow me everywhere I go. But right now, professional wrestling is adding to the pile.
I'm not strong. I'm not brave. I'm no Superman.
I can't cope with the crap.
Call me a coward if you want. Say that I'm weak. Turn this into a joke. I don't care. I don't give a crap.
I'd rather die a coward, than live a miserable hero.
---
So here I am.
This is it.
The End. The Finish Line. The Finale.
The rain beating down against my skin, the lights from the lamps along the peer blending into one in front of my tear filled eyes, the ocean crashing against the beach. Here I am, alone, in the darkness. Though this is the first time I've stepped foot here, in this spot, it feels like I've been here all my life. The closest I've been to feeling like I genuinely belong in a place.
It felt right. It... it felt good.
The nervousness, the angst that had consumed me flooded away, till all that remained was an empty shell. A shell that didn't feel pain or hurt or loneliness. It wasn't even terrorised by the most painful emotion of all, hope.
It was after-all, just a shell.
At least that's what I'm telling myself...
I watched as my foot lifted itself up and hovered over the rough ocean far below. The rest of my body was still as my leg shook, terrified by what awaited it. I remained fairly composed, comfortable that I'd made the right decision. But I must admit that my leg wasn't so sure.
I held onto the rail beside me as the rain pounded down against my hands. A few deep breaths later and I was ready. I was ready to end it all.
I'm ready.
I'm just not doing it.
Not, really sure why to be honest.
Because I do want this. I want the pain to be over. I want to escape. I need to do this.
I need to plunge this shell into that sea. I need to save myself from the gut-wrenching monotony. I've got to do this. Do it already!
“Hello?”
My head tilts, involuntarily, towards the woman who I can vaguely make out through my blurred vision. She's clearly distressed by me. I hardly put much thought into disguising what I was doing. I didn't think it would take this long to be honest.
“Are you ok?”
Ha!
Does it look like it?
“...are... are you ok?”
She repeated. I'm pretty sure she new the answer to that one. And even if she didn't, it wasn't an answer I felt up to providing. I turned back to the ocean, still struggling to take the one step that will set me free.
“Please”
But I didn't hear it. Well I guess I did, but I didn't want to and I refused to acknowledge it. I wasn't going to let it register.
“Please...” she repeated, it sounded like the start of a sentence, but she didn't follow it up with anything else. I kept my head down and closed my eyes. For the last time.
“Please...”
I couldn't ignore her again. As much as I wanted to, there was a part of me that couldn't ignore her. There was a part of me, deep down, that didn't want to ignore her. And the rest of me, couldn't bare to do this to this woman I'd never met in my life. It wasn't so much that I'd changed my mind. But I didn't want my last action to make someone as miserable as I've felt for the last three years. No one deserves that. I turned my head, looked her in the eyes, tears streaming down my face.
“Help me”
She stretched out her hand, pleading with me to take hold of it. I paused for a moment, just staring at it, trying to take everything in.
I can't do this.
I took hold of her hand, leaned under the barrier, and returned to my misery.
---
Jayson, I'm not going to lie. I've already been beaten. I'm drained, physically and emotionally. I'm not feeling half as good as I did a few weeks ago when I barely scraped through our match for this National Championship. If you are what you say you are, then this belt that you crave will be yours and there's not a thing I can do to stop that from happening, heck I'm not sure I'd stop it even if I could.
But I feel duty bound to tell you, that this belt is a cancer. A tumour that will grow and grow until it's consumed you, ripped away everything that made you you. This belt will stop you from becoming what you want to be, it will constrain you, it will lock you into the role of midcarder for life. Maybe, like Trace Demon and Hutton Brown, you'll have the strength to overcome it, maybe you'll be able to exorcise the tumour. But odds are it's going to kill you, like it's killed me and 90% of the men who've held it.
So good luck Jayson, if you've got anything about you then you'll leave Scars & Stripes the National Champion and you'll be facing the biggest challenge of your life, a challenge that personally I don't think you're up to, but if you pull it off then I admit I'll be impressed.
If however, all the talk and the posturing has no base behind it, then you'll be walking out of Scars & Stripes with a loss to a man who has given up and I can assure you 'Golden Boy' that won't look good at all.
This is it for you Jayson, Scars & Stripes, this is your chance. It might be your last chance. You slipped up against me last time we met, you slipped up in the International Title Tournament, if you don't prove yourself here, then that could be it for you.
Good luck. You probably won't need it against me, but trust me, you will need it sooner or later.
---
She thrust a cup of tea into my hand. What a great British solution to depression.
“Here” she says, trying to hide how uncomfortable she is right now.
“Thanks” I took it, and unfortunately it did a superb job of showing me how violently I was shaking.
“Are you ok?”
I looked at young brunette sat in front of me, it felt like I'd just introduced her to the harsh realities of the real world. I did feel guilty and I didn't want to make her feel worse, but I fear my facial expression may have given away just how stupid I thought that question was.
“Not really”
“You're going to be okay” she attempted to reassure me. But it was said with no conviction, no authority. Just a string of words, with no belief to back them up.
“I don't think I am”, she took a sip of tea, clearly she didn't know how to respond to that and in fairness I don't know how I'd respond if someone said that to me. Luckily that's her problem though, I downed my tea as she carefully placed hers down on the table next to her sofa.
“Is there anyone I can ring for you, family, a friend? Anyone who can help you?”
I laughed, so I wouldn't cry.
“No”
“No?”
“There's no one”
“Oh”
That said it all really. 'Oh'. That's all she could say. That's all anyone can say.
“I can help you”, she held my arm as I remained still on the chair.
“No one can help me”
She moved her hand, grasping my hand. She was smiling and as far as I could tell, it was genuine.
“I can”, but that was said with just enough conviction, just enough authority. Just enough, to convince me that I shouldn't head out of that building and do exactly what I'd intended to do hours early.
I wasn't convinced that she could. But I knew that she thought she could, that she wanted to. And in a weird kind of way, that helped.
“Thank you”
---
Scars & Stripes
It's pretty special isn't it?
The one event where you're supposedly on a level playing field with the wrestlers who usually sit at the top of the card because of their 'name'. The one event where anyone can step out and prove that they deserve a shot at the WFWF Championship, that they deserve to be competing in the main event of SuperBrawl. The one event that determines whether the blood, sweat and tears, the hours of training and suffering, were worthless. Failure here is not an option.
Yet, there's a part of me that simply doesn't care about this match. Last week I had the chance to ensure that I would enter Scars & Stripes last and I couldn't even motivate myself for that match. How am I supposed win this match, which should be the biggest of my life, if I don't want it half as much as the majority of men who will be stepping into that ring? How am I supposed to win a match that I've already lost?
I doubt I can.
But then I've been so desperate for victory when it has mattered before and look where it's got me. Three time National Champion, I'm nothing. No one. Training, preparing, working out a game plan, I've done it time and time again and it's got me nothing.
So what the other twenty plus wrestlers in this match are going to get at Scars & Stripes, is quite simply, me. You're going to get a raw Joe Bishop, a Joe Bishop that has never step foot in a WFWF ring. A Joe Bishop that, is probably, going to lose the biggest match of his life. But at least it'll be the real thing.
I guess I'm in a bit of a strange situation, because most people heading into a match that includes almost the entire WFWF roster, will have one or two opponents that they absolutely despise, that they loathe.
But I don't. Sure Jayson Garrett is going to be in the Battle Royal, but I don't particularly detest him. He's got a problem with me, because he thinks he's better than he actually is, but I don't hate him for it. If anything I feel sorry for him, I was just the same, I used to tell myself I was the best in the world when I was little more than a minor annoyance to the top dogs in the WFWF. Though I'll be trying to beat him, I don't really want it as badly as he wants to beat me.
I guess the other man that I should loathe is Thunder. The man who basically destroyed me two weeks ago, the man who pushed me over the edge. But I have nothing against Thunder. He brought an end to my unwarranted confidence, he stripped me down to the bear bones, he made me look at myself in the mirror and finally acknowledge what I really am. I didn't like what I saw, but he isn't to blame. He did what any man would have done, everything he could to take a step forward, no matter what it does to the people left behind. Good for him.
But the fact that I have no real enemy in this match, the fact that I don't want it quite as much as any other participant, doesn't mean that I'm throwing in the towel.
Because there is one man who makes me want to step into that ring and give everything I have at Scars & Stripes. There's one man who makes me want to rip through 29 others and earn a shot at the WFWF World Championship. That man, is Trace Demon.
Trace Demon is not a wrestler. Not deep down. He may be the best at what he does in the world today, but what he does is not professional wrestling. No what Trace Demon does makes me feel sick to the stomach, what Trace Demon does make me hate this industry, it makes me hate this sport that I've always loved. What Trace Demon does, better than anybody else, is politics.
He makes politics the focus, he makes it more important than wrestling and for that I absolutely despise Trace Demon. He rips away the joy, the brilliance of it and he turns it into a game played by men in suits, he makes it about money and that is something that I will always detest him for.
But sadly, he's a genius. He's sick but he's bright enough to get away with it.
That's why I know Trace Demon will walk out of Scars & Stripes the new WFWF World Heavyweight Champion.
And as Mr. Demon is always one or two steps ahead of everybody else, it's safe to say that he'll have something or someone lined up for the Battle Royal, someone who he knows won't take the title off him at SuperBrawl. That's just the kind of man he is, a weasel, a coward, but a brilliant genius, who knows what it takes to keep himself on top of the pile.
So why would I enter the match? Against that, in my current state of mind, surely I don't have a chance?
That's probably true.
But doing nothing is worse. I'd rather be a pawn, to be destroyed early on by a corrupt king, than a coward who stands aside and lets him get what he want.
I don't intend to surrender, I will probably lose, but Trace Demon won't be able to monopolise the WFWF without going through me and plenty other like me.
I earned my shot at him and the International Championship, but he took it away from me, he put so many obstacles in my way that I didn't stand a chance. Well I'm entering Scars & Stripes not to win it, but to be an obstacle. I'm going to be an obstacle that's going to take some defeating. And defeated I will be, but at least I will have stood up, at least I will have been defeated fighting for the right side.
I don't need to win Scars & Stripes, I don't want to. I just don't want that man, who has stolen my lifeline, and kicked it into the gutter, to walk away from SuperBrawl with everything he wants.
you Trace, you for turning the WFWF into a soap opera. you for turning this sport into a giant game of pin the title on the psycho. you for destroying the only thing I had left to love.If I have to fall on my sword to get revenge, then I promise you, that I will oblige without a moments hesitation.
OOC: I've wanted to do something like this for a while, but I've sort of decided not to on a couple of occasions because I don't really think I'm capable of pulling it off. But with the major lack of inspiration I've had recently, any idea is an idea worth using. Figured I'd have a go and hope that it hasn't come out too badly. University has hit me pretty hard, so I'm probably going to be taking a break pretty soon. Tried to take Revvie's advice regarding my narration, but that's new too me so don't know how that's worked out and I've never been very good at judging my own work anyway so meh. I do intend to stick around until SB and will be coming back at some point in the future so feedback would still be useful if anyone gets a chance. Would have posted on deadline day but there's no way I'm going to get any more time to work on this and if I don't post it now then I'll end up neglecting work that I really have to do if I want to stay at University to add to it. Not willing to do that.
