Phoenix’s
Locker Room (New Orleans, Louisiana)
April 6, 2008, 11:45 p.m.
A simple mistake, one he never should have made, was the
reason he sat inside his locker room, staring dejectedly at the bare wall
before him. He should have known better
than to try the Flashfire in a match of this importance...but yet his emotions
got the better of him in the end. It was
his own stupid mistake that cost him the dream he had worked so hard to attain.
The sounds of the NLW staff packing up the show filtered through
the door to his locker room, yet still he remained unmoving, trying to come to
grips with the reality he now faced. It
was unlikely that he would receive another title shot in the near future, after
failing miserably in the two title matches he had been in during his NLW
stint. Jake Steel had a point during the
title match tonight--perhaps he had only gotten this far on a
fluke. All of his other derogatory
comments aside, that was the one point that stuck in his mind...that he was
just lucky and was truly not quite skilled enough to do anything here.
Slowly, the sounds outside his door faded into nothing
while he continued to remain motionless, only the blinking of his eyes and the
shallow rise and fall of his chest showing any indication that he was still
among the realm of the living. To come
so close, yet end up so far away seemed to be his lot in life. Some things just never seemed to change, as
finally he rose to his feet, grabbed his lone duffel bag, and walked outside
the locker room. His ears were
immediately assaulted as conversation buzzed around him.
"Heard that the Legacy title was going to be vacated
now that she has the main title...."
"I don’t know how she managed to get him into that
Cat’s Cradle...."
"I’m happy the son of a bitch lost. Maybe he’ll go back to whatever hole he
crawled out of, and we’ll never see him again."
"Anyone else hear something about a 4-person
mini-tournament for the Legacy title?"
"Bah, who cares about him, anyway? In a month or so, no one will remember him at
all."
"...fat-assed piece of crap bastard...."
All of this and more, he hears, but the words don’t
register in his mind. As if he didn’t
exist, no one paid him any mind as he walked out of the arena and towards his
rental vehicle. As he got near it,
though, he found that it had been bombarded with eggs, and that the tires had
been slashed on it. A sigh of
exasperation followed this as he turned around to go back into the arena. Before he could, though, a car pulled around
from another row of the parking lot and came to a stop, idling in front of
him. The driver’s window rolled down,
and a familiar face called out, "I take it you need a ride, then?"
Even the welcome sound of Elyssa’s voice couldn’t bring
him out of his funk. Nodding, he walked
around to the passenger’s side and settled in, his ribs flaring up in pain due
to the movement. As the car left the
arena, he sighed once more before he began.
"I thought you had to be back in L.A. last week. Isn’t your husband worried?"
There was a long, heavy pause, and he was about ready to
repeat what he said when she replied, "He’s no longer with me, Will. He couldn’t stand being married to a cop, and
just walked away from it all. After I got
back home last week, after seeing you in the hospital, I saw all of his things
had been moved out, and a note left on the table saying he was filing for
divorce."
He was silent as this bombshell was dropped on him. She continued, "I had plenty of vacation
time coming to me, so I asked for a couple of weeks off to clear my head...and
I found myself coming back here to watch you tonight. I think something was telling me that right
now, you need a friend to lean on."
Silently, he reached his left hand out and squeezed her
right gently. "Sounds like both us
do, Elyssa."
Silence prevailed until they reached the same Motel 6 he
had been staying at during his time in New
Orleans. As she
parked the car and shut off the engine, he turned to her. "So now what? What are you going to do now?"
Again, she was silent for a moment before she spoke. "Right now, Will, I need to stay with
someone I trust, who sees me for the person I am and not the symbol people seem
to think I am. I need to stay with someone
who has always had a shoulder for me to cry on when the time comes. Right now, I need to stay with a friend who
needs someone to talk to despite being a habitual loner. And perhaps for once, I can be the one
who provides the shoulder to cry on."
He said nothing as he exited the car, her footsteps behind
him the only indication that she was following him. They reached his room, and a few seconds
later they both were inside. Seeing only
the one bed, she started to say something, but got interrupted.
"The bed is yours.
I’ll sleep in the chair over here."
"Nonsense.
There’s room enough for us both, Will."
"But—"
"End of discussion." He knew that tone of voice, and knew better
than to argue against it. Sighing, he
dropped his bag outside the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He started the shower, and when it was
suitable enough for his tastes, he steeped inside and pulled the curtain shut
behind him.
And as the hot water beat down upon his sore, defeated
body, he did something he hadn’t done since discovering that Brandy had left
him for another person, nearly four years ago.
Any onlookers would have been unable to tell, however, where the
droplets of water from the shower ended and the tears leaking out of his eyes
began, as he finally let some of his frustrations go.
Undisclosed Location
April 7, 2008, 1:49 a.m.
I watched it over and over
again as he got beat, losing his NLW Championship match. A grin crossed my face as I watched the plan
start to really come together, starting with this loss. Things would pick up quickly from this point,
and if the plan was to come to fruition, we needed to be ready for the next
step. Picking up my disposable cell
phone, I pressed the "3" button to speed dial someone.
As soon as the call
connected, I spoke. "Find out his
next opponent, and the circumstances, and get back to me ASAP. We have the momentum and cannot afford to
wait."
I hung up without waiting
for a reply, knowing that he would get the job done. In the meantime, I had to figure out our next
move.
New Orleans Motel 6
April 7, 2008, 9:41 a.m.
He awoke facing the wall, his body nearly hanging off the
edge of the mattress. The sound of the
Knights of Ni from the classic film Monty Python and the Holy Grail had
brought him back to consciousness, alerting him that a text message had arrived
on his phone. Picking it up, he read the
brief message:
Next Show: You
vs. McCaffrey, Legacy Qualifier. –JS
So they were sending him back to the bottom of the ladder...which
is exactly what he wanted, after the debacle that was last night. Too much had happened too quickly, and he
felt that he needed to re-dedicate himself to the work ethic he needed to keep. Starting at the bottom was the perfect way to
do exactly that and not let himself get too caught up in the moment.
In addition, he felt that his style of match would be
perfect under the so-called "Legacy Rules." He felt that the rules for that title seemed
to favor technical-minded wrestlers, especially the three rope breaks per match
rule. Should he manage to win this week,
he would feel quite at home in a possible Legacy title match, where he could
work his type of match and if his opponent went to the ropes too often...well,
that would be to his advantage.
Staring once more at a blank wall, he began to contemplate
his next opponent, if the message that he had received was accurate. In the chaos that was his preparation for the
last show, he had somehow managed to overlook Cade as a possible opponent--a
mistake that he never should have made and yet another thing he was kicking
himself mentally for. Without the clips
of her matches available at the moment, he didn’t have much to go with, but
knew offhand that she was a former prize fighter with both some MMA and boxing
experience and a wicked submission finisher.
She also seemed, if the rumors floating around backstage were true, to
have an innate sense of how to finish off an opponent. He chalked it up to a sense of desperation
and wanting to prove herself, but knew regardless that it would be something to
watch out for.
The fact that she was booked in a Legacy qualifying match
meant that someone in management thought she had the goods to make it. But he was bound and determined to do things
right this time. There would be no more
dreaming of what might yet be, no reminiscing of what might have been, and no
sorrow for the lost chances in the present.
As he felt Elyssa shift her weight on the bed, he thought,
there
is no fate but that which we make. The
road to redemption begins here and now, and I refuse to be someone else’s
steppingstone.
Cade McCaffrey will find out all too soon that the man
who lost last night is not the same person she will be facing at the next
Uprising. Instead, she will find a
re-dedicated man, who is determined to work his way up from the bottom this
time and earn what’s put in front of him.
There will be no more Mr. Nice Guy from me; now it’s all business. Male, female, big, small...doesn’t
matter. Everyone is the same size when
they are down on the mat, and by then it will be too late for them to react.
Cade...prepare to become the first victim in this new
era as you go down in a Blaze of Glory, for I will see it done.
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