Post by heartbreakkid2k3 on Nov 10, 2008 19:47:09 GMT -5
"I always knew you'd be great someday..."
**The words cut through Aaron's ear like a knife. Here he was, that place he said he'd never come again. Sitting in his mother's living room, listening to her prattle on about the state of everything, acting as if everything is perfectly OK between the two of them; acting as if they're old friends**
Mary: "Yes, I knew you were destined for great things from the start. I always tried to support you. In everything you did, too, not just your wrestling."
Aaron:[under his breath] "Is that why I had to earn the $5,000 for training myself?"
Mary: "What's that, dear?"
**Aaron adjusts himself in his seat, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable.**
Aaron: "Nothing. So...how's dad?"
Mary: "You know him. Keeping himself busy. And..."
**Aaron drifts away, not listening to his mother anymore. He doesn't care what she has to say. He stares at her, nodding periodically, and thinks of when things were better. Back when she was beautiful, and when the rest of the world didn't matter. Now, in the twilight of her years, she's aged. And not well. The skin on his face hangs like meat in the window of a butcher's shop. Her eyes, once bright and cheery, now are cold, and callous. Aaron shakes his head.**
Mary: "What's wrong, dear?"
Aaron: "Nothing. I knew it was a mistake to come here. I should have never even picked the phone up when you called."
**This takes Mary by surprise**
Mary: "But I thought we were having a lovely visit!"
Aaron: "Sorry. I have to go now. Big match, not that you care."
**As Aaron stands, his mother rises, too. She moves toward him for a hug, but Aaron just brushes past her, and heads out the front door, leaving her standing in the living room. Aaron gets into the driver's seat of his car, and, with one last look at his mother through the living room window, backs out of the driveway, leaving. He drives for a couple of miles, then pulls into the parking lot of the arena, deciding to start prepping for his first main event match. Parking his car, he reaches into the back seat, and grabs his bag with his gear in it. He sets the alarm as he walks away, bag over his shoulder, and enters the arena. He walks into the locker room, apparently the first one there. Chuckling, he drops his gear, leaves the locker room, and decides to watch the crew setting the ring up.
This brings memories flooding back to him: his first day of training, helping set up the ring at his first show, working security before he actually started having matches. This brings a smile across his face.
This crazy world of professional wrestling is his love affair. It's the first thing he thinks of in the morning, and the last thing he thinks of at night. He's a true student of the game, watching as much wrestling as he possibly can, whenever he gets downtime. He remember watching his first wrestling show as a kid, WWF Saturday Night's Main Event, and being transfixed by it.
...unfortunately, he also remembers his mother and father trying to disuade him from watching it. "It's not for kids" they'd say. "It's trash television" they'd say. Aaron often wonders if the only real reason he got so deep into wrestling was just to spite them. But, that doesn't matter now. He's made it. He's a pro wrestler. They can't take that away now.**
Worker: "Hey! Buddy! You can't be here!"
**Aaron, hearing the words, is brought out of his trance.**
Aaron: "Huh? What? What do you mean I can't be here?"
Worker: "This is for authorized personel only. No lookie-loos."
Aaron: "I work for this company. I'm one of the wrestlers. Aaron Ashton."
Worker: "I don't care who you are. You can't be here. Scram."
**Aaron, deciding this isn't worth the agrivation, stands, walking back to the locker room. He can here the worker complaining to the security guys about letting people into the arena, but he just keeps walking. Sitting in the locker room, he begins to think again. He thinks about the way his parents reacted to him wanting to be a pro wrestler, and the immense joy it brought him, knowing they disapproved. Suddenly, he realizes that he's done very little actual preparation for his match. Shrugging, he then realizes that it doesn't matter. There's no one in this company that can even touch him. He's the single most talented wrestler currently in the WFDC. Even as the other wrestlers start filing into the locker room, he sits alone. He talks to a few, shaking a few hands, and thanking people for their congratulations on winning his first match. But inside, he knows none of them are even close to him.
Slowly, he starts taping his wrists, looking around as everyone else begins to get ready. He feels nothing but disdain for all these so-called "wrestlers" around him. He sighs deeply as he reaches for his boots. This catches the attention of another worker.**
Worker #1: "Hey man. What's your deal?"
Aaron: "Please...I'm trying to focus. Don't speak to me. Ok?"
**Sensing that Ashton's not really trying to focus on anything, he's just being cocky, the worker steps forward.**
Worker #1: "I don't think you're trying to be focused at all. I think you're just being a dick. Again...what's your deal?"
**Ashton slowly stands, getting into the worker's face.**
Aaron: "I'm going to repeat this, nice and slow. It doesn't matter what I'm trying to do. Don't...speak...to...me. Alright?"
Worker #1: "Or what?"
**The worker shoves Ashton. Hitting the lockers, Ashton freezes, trying to control the rage growing inside him. Unable to, he starts to lunge forward, but is stopped.**
Worker #2: "Back off, man. Let's all just calm down, and take our seats. We all need to work TOGETHER."
**Ashton's not blind to the fact that the "TOGETHER" was said in his direction, but his ice cold eyes are focused on the first worker, who is smirking behind the other one. Slowly, he sits down, still looking at the worker. He looks away, and starts putting his boots on.
Suddenly, it hits him. He's by himself in this company. There's no one else out there even close to him, and that makes them jealous. Yeah...that's it. They're jealous. That's all that it is. Realizing this, he starts to smirk to himself, lacing his boots. He's still the man around here.
A man, alone.**
**The words cut through Aaron's ear like a knife. Here he was, that place he said he'd never come again. Sitting in his mother's living room, listening to her prattle on about the state of everything, acting as if everything is perfectly OK between the two of them; acting as if they're old friends**
Mary: "Yes, I knew you were destined for great things from the start. I always tried to support you. In everything you did, too, not just your wrestling."
Aaron:[under his breath] "Is that why I had to earn the $5,000 for training myself?"
Mary: "What's that, dear?"
**Aaron adjusts himself in his seat, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable.**
Aaron: "Nothing. So...how's dad?"
Mary: "You know him. Keeping himself busy. And..."
**Aaron drifts away, not listening to his mother anymore. He doesn't care what she has to say. He stares at her, nodding periodically, and thinks of when things were better. Back when she was beautiful, and when the rest of the world didn't matter. Now, in the twilight of her years, she's aged. And not well. The skin on his face hangs like meat in the window of a butcher's shop. Her eyes, once bright and cheery, now are cold, and callous. Aaron shakes his head.**
Mary: "What's wrong, dear?"
Aaron: "Nothing. I knew it was a mistake to come here. I should have never even picked the phone up when you called."
**This takes Mary by surprise**
Mary: "But I thought we were having a lovely visit!"
Aaron: "Sorry. I have to go now. Big match, not that you care."
**As Aaron stands, his mother rises, too. She moves toward him for a hug, but Aaron just brushes past her, and heads out the front door, leaving her standing in the living room. Aaron gets into the driver's seat of his car, and, with one last look at his mother through the living room window, backs out of the driveway, leaving. He drives for a couple of miles, then pulls into the parking lot of the arena, deciding to start prepping for his first main event match. Parking his car, he reaches into the back seat, and grabs his bag with his gear in it. He sets the alarm as he walks away, bag over his shoulder, and enters the arena. He walks into the locker room, apparently the first one there. Chuckling, he drops his gear, leaves the locker room, and decides to watch the crew setting the ring up.
This brings memories flooding back to him: his first day of training, helping set up the ring at his first show, working security before he actually started having matches. This brings a smile across his face.
This crazy world of professional wrestling is his love affair. It's the first thing he thinks of in the morning, and the last thing he thinks of at night. He's a true student of the game, watching as much wrestling as he possibly can, whenever he gets downtime. He remember watching his first wrestling show as a kid, WWF Saturday Night's Main Event, and being transfixed by it.
...unfortunately, he also remembers his mother and father trying to disuade him from watching it. "It's not for kids" they'd say. "It's trash television" they'd say. Aaron often wonders if the only real reason he got so deep into wrestling was just to spite them. But, that doesn't matter now. He's made it. He's a pro wrestler. They can't take that away now.**
Worker: "Hey! Buddy! You can't be here!"
**Aaron, hearing the words, is brought out of his trance.**
Aaron: "Huh? What? What do you mean I can't be here?"
Worker: "This is for authorized personel only. No lookie-loos."
Aaron: "I work for this company. I'm one of the wrestlers. Aaron Ashton."
Worker: "I don't care who you are. You can't be here. Scram."
**Aaron, deciding this isn't worth the agrivation, stands, walking back to the locker room. He can here the worker complaining to the security guys about letting people into the arena, but he just keeps walking. Sitting in the locker room, he begins to think again. He thinks about the way his parents reacted to him wanting to be a pro wrestler, and the immense joy it brought him, knowing they disapproved. Suddenly, he realizes that he's done very little actual preparation for his match. Shrugging, he then realizes that it doesn't matter. There's no one in this company that can even touch him. He's the single most talented wrestler currently in the WFDC. Even as the other wrestlers start filing into the locker room, he sits alone. He talks to a few, shaking a few hands, and thanking people for their congratulations on winning his first match. But inside, he knows none of them are even close to him.
Slowly, he starts taping his wrists, looking around as everyone else begins to get ready. He feels nothing but disdain for all these so-called "wrestlers" around him. He sighs deeply as he reaches for his boots. This catches the attention of another worker.**
Worker #1: "Hey man. What's your deal?"
Aaron: "Please...I'm trying to focus. Don't speak to me. Ok?"
**Sensing that Ashton's not really trying to focus on anything, he's just being cocky, the worker steps forward.**
Worker #1: "I don't think you're trying to be focused at all. I think you're just being a dick. Again...what's your deal?"
**Ashton slowly stands, getting into the worker's face.**
Aaron: "I'm going to repeat this, nice and slow. It doesn't matter what I'm trying to do. Don't...speak...to...me. Alright?"
Worker #1: "Or what?"
**The worker shoves Ashton. Hitting the lockers, Ashton freezes, trying to control the rage growing inside him. Unable to, he starts to lunge forward, but is stopped.**
Worker #2: "Back off, man. Let's all just calm down, and take our seats. We all need to work TOGETHER."
**Ashton's not blind to the fact that the "TOGETHER" was said in his direction, but his ice cold eyes are focused on the first worker, who is smirking behind the other one. Slowly, he sits down, still looking at the worker. He looks away, and starts putting his boots on.
Suddenly, it hits him. He's by himself in this company. There's no one else out there even close to him, and that makes them jealous. Yeah...that's it. They're jealous. That's all that it is. Realizing this, he starts to smirk to himself, lacing his boots. He's still the man around here.
A man, alone.**
