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Post by jdfranchise on Dec 23, 2014 1:27:32 GMT -5
"She decided, moreover, that he had a right to her utmost aide. Little accustomed, in her long seclusion from society, to measure her ideas by any standard external to herself, Hester saw-or seemed to see-that there lay a responsibility upon her in reference to the clergyman, which she owned to no other, nor to the whole world besides-"
The late December breeze gently pushes my hair to the side as I try to enjoy one of the clearer days we've had in Atlanta over the past couple days. I don't imagine snow will be part of the immediate forecast, but neither will shorts and sandals. I hold my finger on the crease of the book in attempt to keep my place as the pages flutter, leafing over ones with rips, scribbles and dog ears that cover my appendaged bookmark.
"As is apt to be the case when a person stands out in any prominence before the community, and, at the same time, interferes neither with public nor individual interests and convenience, a species of general regard had ultimately grown up in reference to Hester Prynne."
I raise my head up, pondering the thoughts and emotion that the 19th century author attempted to portray on human nature, the lessons that we as a people are still too ignorant to understand.
"There are a lot of paralells we can make from this classic Nathaniel Hawthorne novel that are still very relevant to this day. Seven years ago Yukio, yes you were one of the few people that I considered a confidant and friend in this industry. And in a way I'm like Hester Prynne in this situation because of one act of indiscretion on my part. I was happily finger quotes married to this company, but yet I still left for a suitor that I believed at the time could provide me a better life."
I reach to my right hand side and retrieve a hot chai tea, observing Drake and several neighborhood children playing on the park's playground.
"The story goes that Hester Prynne assumed, which was a fair assumption in those times, that her husband wouldn't join her in Puritan Boston due to the long, turbulent travel that accompanied those who defected England for a new civilization. So she moved on with her life and fell for Dimmesdale. And in one moment of passion, they created another life."
I exhale the cold breath from my lungs as I see the children interact. The rules of social interaction haven't changed in centuries, and these kids are learning the do's and don'ts that I once learned. That we all learned at one point in time.
"Puritan law was very steadfast in their belief of accountability. Because of her extra marital relationship, Hester Prynne was publicly humiliated by the town, much like I have been publicly ridiculed since returning to WFWF in April. I have been put to task by any one of the dozens of people that fill our locker room about the legitimacy of my promotion during my first tenure. Even our esteemed World Champion Drakz has went out of his way to pay me particularly cutting back handed compliments about my win loss record and my tenacity. Things that you, who claim to know me so well, should believe without any doubt come with the territory of signing your name on a contract opposite of me. Like Hester Prynne, I have let my actions speak for me. Because of that, I have allowed people in this company to see what they let go all those years ago. The A that I wear on my chest like a badge of honor no longer stands for adulterer, but able to beat anyone on a given night.
So apparently, I'm doing something right."
I reach to the side once again after adjusting my beverage to rest comfortably in my lap. I pick up a cracker and lean over to place it on a tray.
"While I committed a grave sin that should have blackballed me from ever working for this company, you committed more sins than I. But because of your moniker and you undying loyalty to this company, nobody has bothered to take the Arthur Dimmesdale of WFWF to task for his transgressions.
The act of deception.
The act of betrayal.
Because see Dimmesdale had time and opportunity to attone for his hand in Hester's plight. Every moment that he stayed silent, every hell fire and brimstone sermon that he preached could not subdue the fire that burned him from the inside out. And his physical well-being suffered because of it."
Releasing my finger from the page, the breeze picks up and files the papers to another section in the book. I study it momentarily, allowing a smile to cross my face.
" ‘People of New England!’ cried he, with a voice that rose over them, high, solemn, and majestic—yet had always a tremor through it, and sometimes a shriek, struggling up out of a fathomless depth of remorse and woe—‘ye, that have loved me!—ye, that have deemed me holy!—behold me here, the one sinner of the world! At last—at last!—I stand upon the spot where, seven years since, I should have stood, here, with this woman, whose arm, more than the little strength wherewith I have crept hitherward, sustains me at this dreadful moment, from grovelling down upon my face! Lo, the scarlet letter which Hester wears! Ye have all shuddered at it! Wherever her walk hath been—wherever, so miserably burdened, she may have hoped to find repose—it hath cast a lurid gleam of awe and horrible repugnance round about her. But there stood one in the midst of you, at whose brand of sin and infamy ye have not shuddered!’
See Yukio, I have paid for my sins by having my career path go the way it did. But you have hidden behind the company banner, preaching passionate speeches about how you were doing everything to save WFWF from the scrum of the Earth that roamed this company's landscape. But unlike Dimmesdale, you live with a grave guilt that will finally come back to bite you in the ass in London. All because you could not bear to reveal the truth out of fear that you would face the same ridicule that I did when I returned. And how fitting is it, that Dimmesdale made his proclamation on the day of his death, and you will be forced to make yours on the day of yours. My sons know I'm not a perfect man, but at least they know that I have done my part to correct a grave injustice."
I softly close the book and lean over to Hunter, who is fast asleep in his stroller. I tuck his blanket in at the sides to keep the toddler warm, throwing a small afghan over the hood of his stroller to keep the draft FRom getting to him.
"It's time to come clean."
Josh Dean Presents The Scarlet Letter
"Can you wrap the boys' presents and put them under the tree for me?"
"Yeah." I say looking down at Nikki from the top of the ladder. "Just let me get finished putting these lights up."
"Thank you." Nikki says inspecting the Christmas lights. "Umm Josh, the candy canes are crooked."
"F*ck!" I blurt out. "I thought you wanted me to cross them?"
"I changed my mind." Nikki replies. "Crossing them kinda looks tacky now from down here."
"Well, I guess wrapping gifts are gonna have to wait." I say as I survey the potential work. "Now how do you want these?"
"If you can adjust them to stand straight up, that'd be perfect."
I look down at Nikki as she stands with her arms folded. I smile, seeing my target and opportunity to play a little prank as the front of Nikki's shirt is sticking out. I pick up a plastic washer and drop it from the elevated plane, right into the pocket.
"Oops." I say with a smirk. "Butterfingers."
I look down and Nikki is clearly not amused. I chuckle, but I feel my balance start to shift. She smiles as she holds the ladder with me in a precarious position.
"I'll tip it."
"Not a good idea." I say, cupping the ladder with my bent arm. "Dangerous match coming up and I can't afford to get hurt."
"I was just playing." She says as she releases the ladder. "Come on down, and let's take a look at it."
"Finally." I mutter under my breath as I begin my descent down the ladder. "I need to get another drill bit anyway."
I reach the ground, and as I turn to face Nikki, she smacks me in the arm. Somehow, I'd say I probably deserve that. I smirk as a kneel down to look for the drill bit in my toolbox.
"That was so not funny." Nikki shot out, reaching into her shirt to fish for the washer. "It's a tradition for me to decorate the house, and I can't do it myself because of my arm."
"I know."
"It's frustrating, because I've always been the one to do it." She says, tilting her head up. "Couldn't ever rely on Dustin to do anything."
"Well, it's a good thing I'm not him."
"But just look at it." She continues, exhaling deeply. "If the candy canes are straight up and down, wouldn't look more presentable?"
"I guess." I say as I put the drill bit in my pocket. "I really don't pay much attention to the details."
"Really?" She inquires. "Do you want our house to look like a crackhead decorated it?"
I know what she's implying, and I'd like to think my craftsmanship is better compared to the train wrecks I've seen. But because making a winter wonderland out of our property means so much to her, I decide to let it slide. It's adorable, watching her get into the spirit. She's almost like a kid herself around the lights, presents and trees, though it reminds me of the jaded perception I have. That precious time is something that shouldn't be ruined by the ghosts of my Christmas past.
See holidays were never a favorite time of mine growing up because of the way my parents were. Rather take the f*cking needle than show their only child any type of decency. I shouldn't hold it against them because there were times they tried. No, I retract that statement because you have take into account an addict's tendencies. One year, they finally got it right and I thought maybe I would finally have the childhood I try to give my kids. Considering how little I talk about them, it doesn't take Stephen Hawking to figure out what happened next.
Good riddance. You deserve to be seen the way I choose to perceive you.
"Did you get a chance to buy that dirt bike for Drake?"
"Not yet."
"Josh, Christmas is four days away!" Nikki shot out, stomping her foot into the lawn. "This is the only major gift that Drake wants!"
"This gift also costs ten thousand dollars after all the safety gear he'll need."
"We've got the money to afford it."
"He also turned ten a couple months back." I retort, walking back over to the ladder. "Can he even control it?" "You don't give him much credit."
"I just don't want to scoop our kid up off the pavement."
"You're so difficult sometimes." Nikki huffs. "It's one present that'll make his Christmas. I just want him to know that he's loved."
I can relate because after the shooting, I became the forgotten child in the foster home I got placed in. A lot of times I stayed quiet and reclusive during the celebration because I never thought they were mine, that I was just a guest no matter how much they tried to tell me otherwise. But their actions showed when I got hand me downs and the entitled brats known as their children got brand new Jordan's. I'd have to listen to them and other kids brag about what they got and it dawned on me that I was their good deed to curry favor with the big wigs in the city. Because taking in an orphan from the streets looks so noble, but in reality, I was their charity case for a f*cking tax write off. Thank God that didn't last long due to the trouble I caused to get sent away. As I've gotten older and really started understanding the reason the holiday exists, it doesn't bother me so much as annoys me. I guess that's why I stayed private for so long and why I bounced around wrestling promotions for most of my career. I've carried that stigma with me. Combine that with wrestling's brutal travel schedule and it's pretty obvious how that doesn't fit in.
"He knows he's loved." I say, climbing the ladder. "I love him so much I want to keep him safe. Dirt bikes aren't anything to mess with."
"We'll make sure that he's safe and knows how to properly ride the bike."
"What about in six months when decides to do something else?" I inquire, pulling the drill bit out of my pocket. "Ten grand is a pretty expensive phase."
"He's a ten year old boy trying to find his interests. I don't understand what's wrong with that."
"First it was Tae Kwon Do, then basketball, now dirt bikes. All within the last year." I say, moving the drill to undo the candy canes. "How is he supposed to learn to stick to something if we just let him quit and pick up a new activity on a whim."
"Who says he isn't capable of doing multiple activities?"
"There's a difference between cutting back because you take on too much and giving up when the going gets tough."
Nikki puts her hands on her hips. Her face contorts into an offended scowl. I understand wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, but this is bordering on the line of enabling a hazardous behavior.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think you know what it means."
"You know, sometimes you're too hard on Drake!" Nikki exclaims. "He needs a father, not a drill sergeant."
"A drill sergeant?" I turn around and look at Nikki from the top of the ladder. "So, I'm being too tough on him because I don't want him to get a reputation he won't be able to shake?"
Nikki raises an eyebrow. I hope she doesn't think I'm insulting Drake, but it's hard to argue when there's signs pointing in that direction.
"You know that it does happen."
"But it doesn't mean that'll happen to him. He's just a boy...."
"And you think that'll stop people." I interrupt. "You of all people should know that."
"That's because people are ignorant."
"Ignorance isn't bliss."
"I'm not disputing that." Nikki scoffs. "But it's comparing apples to oranges."
"Is it?" I ask, setting the candy cane upright. "Even after everything you've accomplished, do people still label you as a single mother?"
"Yes, but..."
"See, there you go." I interject. "Despite very public knowledge that says otherwise, you are still percieved that way. Being labeled a quitter is one that defines a person."
"He has my genetics and I never quit."
"He has more than just your genetics."
Nikki drops her head and walks toward the door. I didn't want to go there, but after hearing her speak about Drake's makeup, Nikki needs to be reminded that while she did raise him, someone else also had a hand in his creation too. That wether she wants to acknowledge it or not, Drake does possess some of Dustin's qualities good, bad, or indifferent. She tries to stay positive no matter the situation and even though I'm right about identity, it isn't my place to comment. I hear the sniffles as she opens the door.
"I can't even talk to you right now!"
Little does she know that I already bought Drake the dirt bike. It's been sitting in storage, fully paid off, since September. My childhood is my cross to bear, but I broke the cycle in spite of those who told me I couldn't.
***
"So, you're just coming in to check the client list?"
"Yeah." I say, looking around at my father in law's office. "I know I usually do that over the phone, but I wanted to see what you've done with all this office space."
"Josh, you know that I would've been happy with a cubicle..."
"Nonsense David." I interject. "A man in your position within my firm deserves accommodations. Is everything to your liking?"
"Yeah." David hesitates. "It's great."
He's hiding something from me and I know it based on his short answers and uneasy disposition. I asked a lot of him to take over day to day operations of Championship Connections with no prior experience, but I felt a decision needed to be made regarding the company's direction. That decision was met with the expected criticism from investors that believe I made an impulsive move reminiscent of the wrestling's nature. I realize that it's a risk to our bottom line to hire outside of the sports management realm, but David is the only one I can trust to do the right thing in my extended absences.
I give him a focused look, trying to peer through his tough exterior.
"Is it your assistant?"
"No." David replies. "Catherine's doing a wonderful job. It took her some time to get adjusted to the pace we operate, but then again, it took some time for me as well."
"You're learning together, like any good team."
"Yeah, I just hope I'm doing a good job."
"Compared to who you replaced, you're doing a great job." I chuckle as I move behind the desk, giving him a pat on the back. "You aren't trying to undercut me."
"Well, I look at it like this." He says, pulling up the prospective clients list. "It's not my company, but I have a personal stake in all of this. So I just try to put myself in your shoes and scout the kind of people you'd be interested in."
"You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that."
"I do." David says. "Especially when people can be so unreliable."
It's refreshing to see someone actually practice what they preach. That's why I hired David, because he's loyal to a fault. I don't know if that has to do with him actually liking me and what I stand for or if it's simply because I'm married to his daughter. He reaches for his morning cup of coffee.
"I got some brewing over there if you want any."
"Don't mind if I do."
I walk over to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup. He keeps everything neat and tidy for his own peace of mind because David hates not knowing where everything is at all times. It's a trait I find neurotic, but that kind of OCD comes in handy when organization equals efficiency.
"I'll be honest Josh, taking over this position was very overwhelming at first." David begins. "I'm so used to doing everything on my own when I was an electrician. Now I got a whole staff of people that I'm over and I'm still learning the ins and outs."
"I understand." I say, taking a sip from the mug. "Something that none of these guys will admit is that they too didn't know what the hell they were doing when they first started."
He goes to start a speak, but I put my hand up to stop him.
"You know if it becomes too much, I'm a phone call away."
"I don't want to bother you about every little thing." He retorts. "I'll eventually have to learn it anyway, plus you and Nikki have a lot on your plate as it is."
He pauses as he takes a drink of his coffee.
"How's her recovery really going?"
"She's doing her best." I sigh. "She just gets so frustrated that she can't be out there."
I probably should tell him about our argument from earlier, but I don't want to give him the wrong impression. While David could probably provide me with valuable insight into what makes my wife tick, it's better I learn these things on my own because there will come a day when he won't be here to give me advice.
"That's my daughter for ya." David chuckles. "She gets her heels dug in on anything, she's too stubborn to stop."
"That's why she's successful." I add. "Having talent is one thing, you can't teach work ethic and heart."
"She comes by it honestly." David quips, pulling up a file in the data base. He motions me over. "That's why I think you'll like that I'm interested in signing this kid."
I peer over his shoulder and look at the profile of his most recent discovery.
"I've talked to Richard a few times over the phone, and my gut tells me that we've found a diamond." David begins. "Well spoken, passionate, and good character."
"Good deal. Maybe we'll have to fly over to Wales after the pay per view and get to know the guy a little better."
"No disrespect meant Josh, but let me sign this kid." David says, rubbing his brow. "I've developed a rapport with him talking about faith and life, plus you've got a tough match coming up."
"Ok." I exhale a sigh of relief. "Good call, I do need to make sure I perform at the top of my game."
I respect David's assertiveness in wanting to close the deal. The major downfall is that while you can assert yourself and it'll present you with the opportunity to warrant your merit, but capitalizing on those opportunities is another beast in of itself and I know Yukio understands that very well in thinking about him. Missing at opportunities like that can scar you for life. Some own up to them, but in his case he's trying to forget. The only problem is that record books have memories like elephants.
"When are you going to fly out?"
"Probably after the first." David replies. "I know you have to be in London in a few days and you guys are gonna need help with Christmas."
I drop my head and David sees that he's struck a chord.
"You ok?"
"Yeah, I'm cool." I quietly utter, raising my head and putting the best smile I can on my face. "That would be great, because lord knows I'm not much help in the kitchen."
"So I've heard." David quips. "At least you'll get to spend some more time with the kids."
It's always a good thing to have extra help, especially when they're willing with no extra motives. David has been amazing to Nikki and I, taking the brunt of the load with the kids in most recent weeks while we continue to do what needs done. I don't like the boys to see my demeanor going into dangerous environents even if they see me fight on television every couple weeks. It's matches where I know bloodshed's almost guaranteed are the ones that make me the most uneasy around them, because I have to get into a certain state of mind.
I don't like when I have to become that person, but circumstances have forced my hand. This has been a long time coming, but then again I could say the same thing for Schneider. But this is different in that I'm reacting to the situation as opposed to being proactive. The one bright spot in next couple of weeks is a well deserved holiday before it's back to business as usual.
"If I haven't told you, I appreciate everything."
"I should be thanking you, David." I say as I walk around the desk, kicking back my coffee. "Not just for helping us with the kids or finalizing Penny's action figure. Because of you, I can finally put to rest the notion that I spent my best years pissing away my talent. I can prove that leaving, while a mistake in hindsight, made me a better man."
"I don't think there's a doubt that you're a better person for the choices you've made." David says. "But then again, only you know your motivations."
"I can't explain it." I say, pointing to my chest. "There's something inside that I need to release."
***
"Well." Raven's alto voice rings out as she answers the door. "Look who decided to grace my presence."
"Aren't you gonna let me in?"
"Depends on why you're here."
"Maybe I wanted to offer you some new customers."
"Really?"
"No." I say, dropping my head. "I needed to get away from my normal routine."
"Awww," she quips, stepping to the side and motioning for me to enter. "Life in the suburbs too difficult for ya?"
"I'm quite content with my life thank you very much."
Raven turns to face me, before dropping her eyes to look at my expression.
"So I take it you're not truly happy?"
"No, I'm very happy with my wife and kids." I huff as I follow Raven into the den, where the sweet smell of premium grade Kush fills my nostrils. "Do you know what the definition of insanity is?" "Slumming it when you have a nice, upscale life."
She nonchalantly turns her attention to an empty Philly on the table. I take a seat in an older recliner in the corner. Her place is certainly not the slums by comparison of places I've seen and been to in Atlanta, but I certainly don't come around here very often anymore. I obviously wouldn't trade the life I have for any amount of money, prestige or high, but it's nice to remind myself of the steps I took to get here.
That's what this match with Yukio Blaze has me doing for the most part, reflecting. Reflecting and analyzing my path in life because for the first time in I don't know how long, it's being called into question. Seven years ago, a middle class home would've been a dream come true, that is until I ran into money problems. Not the kind you're probably thinking either. More like the time money changed my life forever.
A lot of times I'm torn about going from the projects to the penthouse without making a prolonged stop in the middle class. I realize that I've been blessed, and I appreciate it much more than those in a similar position because who knows how my life would've turned out if I would've made a different choice in certain situations. Maybe better, maybe worse, but I know that it does me no good to dwell on it.
"Insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results."
"I'm not following."
"Living my lavish lifestyle wasn't producing the desired results."
"Yeah, I saw you went back to wrestling again." Raven says, brushing her long, brown hair out of her face. "What happened to telling the business to f*ck off?"
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." I retort. "I realized being in the thick of the action made me happy."
I've always prided myself on being someone who gets things done, confidently asserting myself into different scenarios in my life where that nature shines through. But there's something alluring about going to the ring, saying "I am", and letting my God given talent do the rest that you can't get sitting on a couch or behind a desk. Signing talented people to jump start their ventures is noble, and seeing their success fills my heart with joy because I'm providing them the kind of encouragement I seldomly recieved during my own career. It was their success that helped me come back because of the bittersweet taste it left in my mouth knowing there was still plenty to give to my first love. The one that made situations like this possible.
"Is that right?"
"Yeah, it is."
"That why you came to see me?" Raven asks, smiling as she tilts her head to the side. "Or are you just wanting to smoke ?"
"I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll pass."
"Suit yourself." Raven says, shrugging her shoulders before sealing up the Philly. "Just got this shipment in last night."
"How's business going?"
"Going as good as a low profile operation should."
"How's Curtis?" I ask. "I assume you still get your top grade product from him."
"Nope," she replies, reaching for a lighter. "That scrub cost me too much money. I get my good stuff from a dude named Damon out of Marietta."
"I see." I lean back and get comfy in the recliner. "So are you f*cking him now?"
Raven coughs out the smoke. I know she's shock by my bold assumption, but my experience has taught me that tigers don't change their stripes very easily. If looks could kill, I should be dead right now. But Raven understands that I know her better than she'd like to lead on.
"Excuse you?!"
"I didn't mince words."
"And why would you think that?"
"I only have what I know as fact to go on."
"Facts."
"Well, have you done anything to make me think otherwise?"
"You haven't been around." Raven snaps. "So what do you care?"
"I care because you met me at a time where I was in a really bad place." I begin. "I remember coming here and you would just let me vent, and a lot of times you didn't know names and faces. Sure it helped your case having a product that I wanted, but it wasn't just a consumer relationship. You actually took the effort to get to know me, and that means something."
"You could've fooled me." Raven says, finally composing her lungs and taking a pull off the Philly. "Because I remember you disappearing almost three years ago without so much as a goodbye, a f*ck you, or an explanation. You owe me that much."
"I owe you?"
"Yeah, because we had a good thing." Raven continues. "You made me feel safe when you were around and I made you feel like you had a voice..."
"And I won't forget the times and memories we shared. They were a lot of fun." I interrupt, something I've been trying to work on for years now. "But come on Raven, it's kinda hard to take you seriously when you the all that time and countless opportunities to do something other than selling weed and you didn't."
"It's easy money, I don't have to worry about random piss tests, and it kind of defines me now." She says, flicking an ash into the glass tray. "But I don't expect you to know what that really feels like, because you walked away without so much as a second thought."
"Easy money? Since when did you ever have to worry about that when I was around?" I ask, sitting foward in the recliner. "Listen, when I retired, I wanted a fresh start. It was hard because it defined me. So I did it the only way that's ever worked for me, because I don't do saying goodbye well. When I found out that you were messing around with him, that was the last straw...."
"That's why I had a hard time committing to you." Raven interrupts. "There was always a condition and you were able to run around with Jason and do whatever you wanted."
"That isn't true."
"Bullish*t!" She hisses. "You'd be gone two, three weeks at a time. Then you'd come back into town in the middle of the night. We'd smoke, we'd f*ck, then you were off again."
"You just said we had a good thing going, so why are you just now bringing this up?"
"Because you need to know that I just felt like your piece of ass back home after a while." She says sitting forward and flicking the ash into the ash tray, causing her hair to cascade down over the numbers on the Falcons jersey that covers her massive mocha chest. "I don't know if it's because you liked my looks or because I always had weed, but that's not important. I couldn't sit around waiting for you to come to your senses when there were videos of you hanging around with gutter skanks circulating the internet."
I peer over and Raven is expressionless, doing the same thing she always does when she tries to hide her anger. The fact that I can see through it probably makes her angrier, but it's justified. Maybe I did take her for granted, and it's sobering to be held accountable for skeletons that I put in my closet a long time ago. She leans back into sofa nursing the Philly between her lips, trying not to give away her thoughts. In reality, all she has to do is tell me to leave and out the door I go. I don't know why she hasn't exercised that right and quite frankly I don't care. The smoke rolls effortlessly from Raven's mouth with her exhale that signals relief more than anything.
"I just needed to get that out in the open."
"I'm sorry."
"In all the time I've known you, that's the first time you've ever apologized for something." Raven smiles, tilting her head back. "It's kinda nice."
"I guess living in high society and getting away from it for a while has changed me." I smirk, ignoring her posturing. "Made me more domesticated. "
"No you're still the same, Josh." Raven retorts. "But being polite does have it's advantages though."
"I understand forgiveness takes a while." I say, leaning back in the recliner. "But at least I'm making a start."
"I never could stay mad at you."
Raven stands up, sauntering over to me as I watch her. She grabs my hand, running her tongue slowly across her top lip. This is quickly turning into the scenario I don't want to happen. As she drops to her knees, I can feel my comfort level plummet. We've always played a cat and mouse game with each other and things happened. I've never dismissed her before and that's why she has ran through the emotions she has in such a short time. My honest apology and mere presence must have given her mixed signals, because dismissing her advances doesn't look like a viable option.
"I got to go, Raven." I fumble out as I push up from the chair. "You know my business never stops."
"No one has to know." She smirks, taking her hand and reaching toward my crotch. "One more time for old time's sake."
"I'll know. But this isn't that kind of relationship anymore." I say as I push her hands away. "But I'll be in contact if you decide you want steady business."
***
I feel like I need to clear the air about some comments I made at Black Friday. Let me preface it by saying I'm probably the most honest person in this whole locker room in that I put my career decisions out there like an open book, and that book has chapters in it where I'm not without sin. My explanation about the end of my first tenure might get the negative people in the world to label me a pariah, claiming that my words are justification for selling my services out to the highest bidder. To those self righteous people out there, I ask one simple question.
If you were in my shoes, what would you do? Explain to me with your holier than thou rhetoric how you would've handled that decision making process without the luxury of knowing what I know now. Let's see if you can make any points I didn't already consider.
That's the beauty in having freedom of speech. You can curse my name and freely express your own opinions. Yukio Blaze is merely using that right to echo the sentiments that I'd expect from a Trace Demon.
Yukio Blaze would also have you to believe he made my career by being the guy that helped me out the most, which in turn makes me look like an ungrateful bastard. Truth is, Yukio Blaze did nothing for my career but give me the lowest possible platform, and the rest was on me. Now I thank him for that platform because without it, I wouldn't have the bargaining chips I did when I returned in April. But just like an intellectual property Yukio, don't take credit for a brand you had very little involvement in building.
Because where were you when I was mulling the over offers for six months? Where was that veteran advice when I was making the biggest decision of my life?
How about a courtesy call just to see how I was doing when I left, or when I was so fed up with the garbage in this line of work by 2010 that I nearly quit and breached my contract?
Was it when the place I went shut down, leaving me free and clear to go where I wanted once my no compete clause was up? I could've swore there was a phone call from you that I never got around to answering.
Or was it when I BROKE MY F*CKING NECK! Were you at the hospital? How about when I shredded my knee during rehab, where a mounting pile of injuries and frustration pretty much lead me to leave the sport all together? Where was my great friend Jeff Spencer to talk me down from that ledge?
You know the answer to all those questions, because you were a ghost, nowhere to be found!
Why is that exactly? Is it because you were trying to remove the big "L" from your chest and prove to the world that you weren't a choke artist?
Some good that really did you.
Because all you've managed to do in your alteration of the truth is bend that "L" into an "M", since you couldn't remove it despite your best attempts. You didn't to be labeled as the loveable loser anymore, so instead you try to change your public perception by making yourself into a martyr. But just like your cryptic #3Wishes vignettes, there's a twist in all of this. Now all of a sudden you want to be a mentor, fighting random battles with kids that don't have the gumption or determination to make any of their moments count like Joe Bishop. That way you could say you saved them from themselves.
All because you couldn't save yourself.
And the thing I truly believe you're too dense to understand is that you did this to yourself by doing what Yukio Blaze does best, shooting himself in the foot. All of your poor fortune in critical matches, your perception among the boys and girls in the back, even this very personal thrashing that you have coming in London is due to your own inability to see the forrest through the trees. You had the golden opportunity to get a talented young man who would be loyal to WFWF and willing to help you with the cause if you could've just convinced him to stay. A true game changer that would've helped you alter the course of WFWF and push you to reach your full potential.
But you weren't beating the company drum when I needed someone to give me that incentive. You sat idly by as I walked out the door and didn't lift a damn finger to stop me.
And people wonder why I've been radio silent since accepting your challenge until Black Friday? It's because you shouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing how insulted I was that you dare hitch your name to my wagon and leech off my popularity after what you did to me. You flat out don't deserve the kind of attention you're getting by virtue of your name being across the card from mine because I'M THE ONE selling this match to the masses! In case you haven't figured it out, losing more matches than I've won since SuperBrawl has done very little to harm my credibility. I have no problem using my name value to help a kid like Kirkbride and doing what you should've done seven years ago. So why in the hell should I do you a favor when you had plenty of chances over the years to do right by me and didn't?
But I digress, because I have this strange gut feeling that deep down inside you were happy to see me go. Yeah the Hall of Famer jealous of the guy who could be considered a flash in the pan, or the product of a roster that was lacking in bonafided main event caliber talent at the time. That's of course if I were a flash in the pan, but I also don't think people in the office are stupid enough to make that kind of assumption. I may be wrong about that last statement, but after thirteen years this company is still standing, so I have reason to believe someone is doing something right.
But I see you for the miserable sycophant that you are. The only difference is that once again you change your public perception now that you have one foot out the door. You finally show your true colors because pulling a ruse on the public for ten years has been so exhausting. Now the truth is out that Yukio Blaze is only interested in protecting his irrevocably damaged legacy by trying one last time to shed a positive light on it.
We'll I'll be damned if you do that at my expense.
But see in some weird, ironic way, the roles are reversed from 2007 and how fitting that now I'm giving you the platform to show the world why the brass called you "the heartbeat of this company." You get a chance to show the world that Mr. Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda can do and validate your career. I have nothing to gain from a professional standpoint by taking this match and years off my life to lose. But I do have that same platform as the one I'm giving you. With said platform, I'm going to show the world the talk of me losing a step is greatly exaggerated and that I am STILL the most complete performer in this industry period!
And as much as you or anyone else doesn't want to admit, you know it's true. Because unlike you, I don't like making a habit of lying.
The WFWF, like so many times before, is at war within itself. In many cases, the war is being built as the one that will determine the very fabric of this promotion's future. It's easy to find yourself lured into the appeal of being called a hero because you feel like what you do matters to so many more people than just yourself. It's satisfying to get your kicks off that feeling, because everyone wishes to gain the praise and accolades. It's a selfish reason, but it holds true whether good, bad or indifferent.
So what makes you any different than anyone else, Yukio?
Is that why you betrayed my trust? Because you knew if I stayed that I would've eclipsed you and been seen as the real hero? Because those history books that you and I both study religiously tell one solemn truth about us that will be made abundantly clear in London. That I AM BETTER THAN YOU!
And I always have been.
It took me six months to accomplish what it took you three years to do. The subsequent ten years that you've been in this company, the International Championship has been as high as you could go because the skills diminished greatly after I left and that's no accident. When I came back at SuperBrawl, I sat in that gorilla position and I cheered you as you went head to head with Bishop, hoping in the back of my mind that maybe you could show the Yukio Blaze that I knew one more time. That you could turn back the clock to 2007 and show the world why WFWF's future looked so bright then. I didn't worry about you coming clean then because I knew if I were just patient enough, that would take care of itself.
And then you just gave up, just like you always do.
The guilt of seeing me return and the fans, the ones we do this for, embraced me once again with open arms. That reminder crippled you. No amount of spin can save you from that sin you've been living with because every good deed I've done since then makes you look even worse.
You wanted to be the hero, but instead you're going out the villain.
And maybe that's the way you want it. Maybe you want that public declaration so you can die with the peace of mind you never recieved. I don't personally give a sh*t why you chose this stage and this stipulation because you are going to finally get what's coming to you. Moral law will dictate my actions with every strike, every slam, and every piece of plunder I choose to batter you into oblivion with. After it's all said and done, when I pin what's left of your carcass to the mat, then I will finally be vindicated. The A will finally be removed from my chest and then I can move on with my life, accomplishing goals and reaching levels you can't fathom because you were never good enough.
Luckily for me, I made sure to dog ear the page in WFWF's existence where my name lies. A good comeback story is never complete without a couple edits.
But our chapter in my story is complete, written the way it should be.
Because we both know that history is written by the winner.
All you'll have is the "L" permanently etched into your chest, and your history written in blood, the most permanent ink.
I'll see you on that scaffold, Jeff. [/b][/div][/Center]
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