Wayne McGurk Felo-de-se RP: Change

Wayne stopped the car. Looking forward into the rearview mirror, he knew it was going to be the last time in a long, long while he was going to see that view. They left late; Vanessa and Scarlett were asleep in the back of the car; an old Ford pick up, Wayne had the Harley strapped onto the back. Looking into the rearview mirror, he had spent the first half hour, watching the city behind him vanish into greenery. Just like Vanessa, he didn’t wanna do it, but he had to do it. Wayne removed the seat belt and drew the windows down; keeping the engine on. He leaned back against his seat and looked back into the rearview mirror- nothing; reckoned if he drove backwards, he’d slowly watch the city reappear and they’d all be home again- stupid idea. Wayne looked back at Vanessa and Scarlett. Still sleeping; Vanessa arm outstretched over the child seat. Wayne shut the engine off and took the keys; he opened the door, slid his way out, and shut it.

Wayne looked back at the direction from which they came; if he started running now, he’d be back in a good couple hours. Standing in the center of the road, Wayne charged forward, but stopped a couple feet away from the car. Man, just can’t do it. And it used to be so easy, too. Wayne came back to the car and leaned against the door; was he doing? Wayne pressed himself and felt the pack of Camel’s on the back pocket of his trousers; Jesus, their probably flat and smell like ass. At least he had them. Wayne tipped the bottom of the pack and placed a stick between his lips. He pressed himself, feeling around for his lighters, and found them in the pocket of his old Levis jacket. Wayne flicked the lighter on and brought it close; watching as the flame came close to the paper. Wayne sighed and pulled the cigarette away from his lips. Wayne closed his eyes and rocked his head against the drivers’ seat door. Wayne opened his eyes and looked up upon the evening, and into the vast, dark and empty sky, where the stars above lay scattered. Wasn’t like this in the city. Didn’t really understand why; with the buildings and all the lights, all you had were a few specks amidst heavy clouds. This was different. This was nice. Wayne placed the cigarette back on his lips and kept the lighter back into his pocket. Wayne had the wrinkled pack of Camel’s in his hand; he was holing onto it. Tightly. Wayne looked forward, stretching his eyes beyond the miles of pasture. Wayne pulled his arms back and threw the pack of Camel’s out into the pasture; cigarette still hanging off his lips.

Wayne took his lighter again and brought against his lips; teasing himself. Just daring himself to light the cigarette, when there was no logic whatsoever over the waste of his pack o’Camels- there goes six, seven dollars.

Damn.

Wayne rolled the cigarette between his fingers; Forever Unscarred was still fresh on his mind.. He remembered just laying there as the referee hit the three count, knowing he was still in the capacity to kick out- the Pon de Replay over the chair was enough. He was the International Champion for the best of eight months. He was bestowed upon the honor of its recognition and prestige. And to that, he was bestowed the pressure of setting new standards as champion; doing what was called of him. The moment the ref nailed the three count, Wayne gazed upon the crowd before the placard for Miller Beer, smiling. He was now relieved; he was now free to be. Man spent the most of his title reign pushing himself- he was tired. End of story.

There comes a point, every so often, in our lives, when we all take a look at ourselves in the mirror and ask the question, “Who am I?”. And I can very well assure you that nine out of ten, we all can’t find a way to truly answer that question. We may take the time to make a list of all things that comprises of our on individual character and egos; yet despite that, we never conjure a reasonable answer to such a simple question.

The biggest mistake we all make as professional wrestlers is that we often tend to define ourselves by a single, often one-dimensional character; a quick to give people a shallow impression of who were are in this world as wrestlers. Long ago, I defined myself by my instrument of choice- the old Harley that’s chained to the back of the truck. You’ve watched me smoke, you’ve watched me kick someone’s ass, you’ve watched me my wife, and you’ve watched me drive my bike. All I’d have to do is stand by the Harley, smoke, point to the tattoo on my arm, and say the word , and that alone would be enough to get me over and take me as just another biker. Did anyone stop to think and ponder to ask if I was really that man caught in that element, let alone conjure how and why I exactly started riding the Harley in the first God damn place?

No.

I mean for God’s sake, my name isn’t even Wayne to begin with; it was just a nickname my father gave me when I was six. So, I ask you, who ever you may be; opponent, friend, and passerby. How can you judge and antagonize a man you know absolutely nothing about? All you have is just a notion, and in this world we feast, a notion alone will yield you nothing… Notion, it’s nothing but a worldly perception.

Years and years ago, I came into this business, discarding all the values and lessons I held dear, knowing full well of the possibility of a successful career in this sport was only a dime a dozen- I did not care. My love for what we do was enough to get me by. Just like myself, the man I color father was a professional wrestler. The son of a bitch gave me crapwhen I started out; may God rest his soul. All I had going for me was that Harley; which was the cheapest thing I could find with a decent ounce of respect. I took that thing everywhere, man. I drove it to practice; drove it to all those ed up odd jobs I had, had to eat; and I drove the thing to every show I could book. Driving it up and down all over the place, I would stretch myself into forty hour days; with the bike breaking down every once in awhile. I didn’t stop until my body caught up with me. Living like that, for so long, it did develop into a habit; not a good one, but at least it gets what I need done.

And that’s how I became half the man I am.

There is nothing in this world that is certain, and there comes that time when we, as people, do have to succumb to change, and while I have been growing, I do reckon it is time for a new change in the direction of my life. I’ve been a prototype of what I’m expected to be, and I don’t like it; its pollution to me. Because amidst all the smoke, sex, and violence, glimpses of the man I really am shines through. The man that shies himself away from our sleeping world, the man that only my wife has seen; that good man.

That man is I!

Now, when I came here, I promised to taste gold and I’ve done just that. And I ask myself and the rest of the world what else is left?

The World Heavyweight Championship? It’s all too easy.

Stepping up the plate and yielding a victory, has become all too easy for me. If I am going to move on with my life, it’s a fact that I very well have to accept.

As with change, every new step in our lives requires a time of learning. When took my first step into that ring, I was the kind of crowd opener nobody gave crapabout, and they did with me what they did with the rest, they through us out into the wild to fend for ourselves. That new, all you want is single-handed, man-to-man combat, and now you have to fend through twelve others, who are feeling a lot like yourself. Then you get scared, and in the midst of it all, you can’t fight- you up. Back then, I was little more than apprentice. Now, I am the master.

And I’ve got the wounds and bones to back that up, to anyone at anytime.

MOD, your return has come at a very glorious time. And from forces beyond our control, our densities will collide for the first time come Felo-de-se. With every new opponent, arises the chance to learn. As human, it’s our instinct to chase after knowledge. Over my career, I have picked up many, many things from my opponents; blood, wounds, disease, gold, and knowledge. So the question here is not what I can learn from you, but what you can learn from me. Going into this, you and I are known for very different things, but just like the other, we both can put up a fight. For in the landscape of professional wrestling, there is no terrain inhabitable for either one of us. When you presided over the WFWF, you may have had the privilege of facing the best the WFWF had to offer, but never once have you had the chance upon encountering the likes of Wayne McGurk. On Felo-de-se, it will happen. And if I hadn’t proven you before then, I’m going to prove it to you on Felo-de-se. When I fight, standing in the midst of battle with the tide bowing towards my favor, I know that what I’ve done isn’t enough and I push myself for more; more, more, more- it just ing calls out to me and bleeds.

A new time has come, and I’m hungry for what you have to offer me. And in the glory of battle, for the spirit of the bitch that is wrestling, I will overpower you and I will show you why I am the new face of dominance in the WFWF.

MOD, give it to me.

At Forever Unscarred, a new chapter in my life closed; for the better. CBT, I wish no harm or ill- you made me a free man. And it’s very unlikely that I’ll be treading down that path again; what’s done stays done. I am at the top of a new dawn in the WFWF. And like the ring of which I reign supreme, I will hold the WFWF with nothing but my bare hands. And when morning arises, all will be assembled under our flag and staff. With the hand of my enemy, we will lead the wave and spread the sovereign supremacy of the WFWF!

Wayne looked at the cigarette once more before placing it between his lips. Wayne opened the door, slid back into the drivers seat, and shut the door; a securing thud. Wayne rolled the windows back up and started the engine; the car buzzing somewhat.

Hey…
She said gracefully; just upon waking up.
Where are we?

I just needed to stop for some fresh air for a second.
Strapping the seatbelt on.

Ok.

Wayne turned back towards Vanessa; she was just looking right back at him, with that sleepy gaze, smiling. Wayne reached for her hand and held it over his; feeling the softness of her palm over his jagged and callous-laced palm. Wayne brought her hand before him and kissed it. Wayne let go, as she slowly drew her hand away. She pressed her fingers and against her lips and blew him a flying kiss.

We’ve got a long way to go; get some sleep, baby.

I will if you let me.

Wayne gave her a smile and wink before turning back towards the wheel. Wayne took the cigarette away from his lips, opened the glove compartment and threw it in and shut it. Wasn’t quitting, just reckoned he didn’t need it.