AoN: Steven Holmes vs. Triple X - (World Title #1 Contender Match)

[Kermit]

It all started nearly a year ago when Triple X shocked the WZCW Universe and won the "Elite" Title off of Steven Holmes. Now, Holmes is back for revenge on the man that humiliated him and put the "X' back in the title that he sought so diligently to remove. For the last few weeks, Holmes has had a bounty on X's head, but now he has dropped the bounty in order to score a chance at being the #1 Contender for the WZCW World Heavyweight Title. Triple X has had his fair share of road blocks on his way to All or Nothing, but everyone is watching and waiting to see if he will surpass The Elite One once again to attempt a claim at the biggest prize of them all.

Deadline is Tuesday February 19, 2013 at 11:59 PM (Central). Extensions as per thread.​

 

[Kermit]

Triple X has been granted a 24hr extension.

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

It is dusk in Smalltown USA. As the light is chased away, heralding the coming of the dark, Jimmy’s Diner is preparing to close early tonight. Jimmy is a small, sweaty little man with a good heart and a decent brain. His business is small, though at times fruitful. But now, it simply isn’t enough. Jimmy’s wife is ailing. Their finances are a mess and her medical bills are dizzying. He needs to go home for both her health and arguably his sanity. As he stands behind his counter, the day’s final customer drops a $20 dollar bill. He stands tall, tips his hat and leaves. Jimmy offers a weak smile, a thank you of sorts. He grabs at the bill as the door clatters shut, the bell attached to it echoing in the now empty diner. Jimmy’s smiles increases slightly and he stuffs the bill into his pocket before collecting the last patron’s dishes, the final remnant of a hard day’s work. Jimmy is alone now. Even the cook has gone home. He places the dirty dishes through a window between the main diner and the kitchen. He’ll worry about them tomorrow. Little does he realise that his worries have only just begun.

Back turned, Jimmy only hears the bell on the door go first before he turns around. Sensing freedom, Jimmy lets his newest customer know that he’s going home. As he turns, the door clatters shut.

Jimmy: We’re closed I’d afraid.

The smile broadly stretched on Jimmy’s face is slowly replaced with confusion as a new, unfamiliar pair of figures stand in front of him. Whilst dressed in identical suits, both men look completely different. One is short, stumpy and fat with a pencil moustache. The other is tall, gangly and clean shaven. Neither of their suits fit them properly. Both are deadpan in their reaction. Jimmy’s confusion deepens.

Jimmy: Didn’t you hear me, we’re closed.

Neither man responds. Their eyes are fixated on Jimmy. His smile is now totally engulfed in a sea of utter perplexity. He wonders who these two unknown souls are, but something tells him to get out of the diner as quickly as humanly possible. Through the silence of the two men, Jimmy sees a limousine pulled up right in front of the diner. It is long, sleek and dark. It glistens in the setting sun. Still the two men stare at Jimmy. The aura of confusion lingers until Jimmy can’t stand it anymore.

Jimmy: What are you, deaf? We’re closed. I have to go home. Who do you two think you are anyway?

At that moment, one side of the short man’s face rises up into a smirk. He chuckles with his mouth closed. An instant later, the lanky man’s face does the same, before he too chuckles. Fear begins to creep into Jimmy’s body. Then, the sun sets fully and the limousine outside is plunged into total darkness. The nightmare begins. Once more silence. A bead of sweat begins to form on Jimmy’s brow. His eyes dart between the two men before him. Then a flash of lighting blinds Jimmy. When his vision is fully restored, he does a double take, believing he saw something beyond the two men before him. He appears panicked, sweat now forming an almost second skin on his forehead. Suddenly the two men take a few steps backwards. They stand either side of the door. In the glow of diner’s light, a figure can be seen behind the door.

Jimmy: Who is that?

No response comes, at least not verbally. Instead, the small, chubby man grabs the door handle. He opens it and the bell rings, signalling the latest player to arrive on our stage. He is dressed in 1930’s style suit, complete with ridiculously large hat. This gentleman walks with a cane and wears white gloves. While the top half of his face is enveloped in shadows, his smirk is apparent and sickening. With the door still open, this mystery man enters the diner. He puts his hands together and places the cane down. This signal of sorts indicates for the two gentlemen in suits to leave, though they stand either side of the door on the outside. Alone in the diner now are Jimmy and the man in the suit. His grin still adorns his face. The fear in Jimmy only intensifies upon looking at this terrifying image. The man lifts his cane up and begins to march towards the counter which Jimmy is stood behind. He grabs a stool and takes a seat, slowly. He leans his cane against the counter and begisnm to take his gloves off. Jimmy remains rooted to the spot.

Jimmy: Just who are you, and what do you want?

There is no response other than a continued, devilish grin plastered on this man’s face. After removing both his gloves, he places them together carefully before pushing them aside. He raises his arms up and grabs his ridiculous hat. Very dramatically, he pulls the hat away, at first covering his face entirely before pulling it away to reveal his identity; Steven Holmes. Jimmy stares directly into the eyes of Holmes, sweat dribbling down his face in utter fear and a sense of confusion running wild.

Holmes: You have no idea who I am, do you?

Still frozen for a few seconds, Holmes’ question does not quite hit Jimmy immediately. He snaps out of his funk for a few moments and shakes his head.

Holmes: Good, then that allows me to introduce myself. My name is Steven Holmes and I’m here to make an offer you simply won’t refuse.

Allowing Holmes’ words to sink in, Jimmy takes a few deep breaths to compose himself.

Jimmy: What sort of offer?

A brief, malevolent chuckle originates from Holmes though his mouth is tightly shut.

Holmes: The sort of offer men in your position can only dream about Jimmy. It shall be your salvation.

Jimmy: How do you know my name?

Holmes opens his mouth this time as he laughs. The sound echoes in the near empty diner. His smile is dripping with venom now. He runs his tongue over his front teeth, almost tasting the atmosphere like a serpent.

Holmes: I know lots about you Jimmy. I know you own this diner and that until a few years ago you made a fairly reasonable profit out of this business. I know you were thinking of branching out of this little backwater town for awhile. I know that those plans have been put on hold...indefinitely. I know that this establishment is in trouble at this present moment, just as you no doubt suspect you are in trouble. I know it all Jimmy.

Jimmy’s eyes narrow. He is unsure how to handle this. He clenches his fists tight, unsure what to do with himself. Sweat continues to morph and flow. Then Holmes goes one step further.

Holmes: I even know about her.

Snapping open, Jimmy’s eyes paint a portrait of a man afraid. Terror strikes his body totally and utterly. He was unsure before, but now he is utterly afraid of this man. Never before has he seen him, and yet he not only knows about business, but Jimmy’s personal life too. Holmes goes on.

Holmes: I am the most powerful man you are ever going to meet in your life Jimmy. I am a man of great wealth and a man who can quite simply make you or break you. That is why I want you to listen to what I say next if not for your sake, then for hers.

Riding a rollercoaster of emotion, Jimmy’s fear is washed away, albeit temporarily, by anger. His fists tighten further. Coated in a shiny layer of sweat, they begin to turn purple due to the pressure being applied by Jimmy.

Holmes: I am going to pay you quite a substantial amount of money. Well, you’ll find it to be a substantial amount of money. I am going to pay for her medical care and I am going to buy this diner from you, help keep it financially safe for years to come and hopefully even have it making money sooner rather than later. That is my offer.

Once more confused, Jimmy’s hand relaxes. He feels at some sort of ease for the first time in quite awhile. He looks at Holmes square in the eye and “The Elite” is unflinching. Jimmy’s perplexity is written on his face though.

Holmes: I assume you have one question on your mind. Go ahead, ask it.

Jimmy: Why?

Holmes: Because of what I will ultimately gain from such a venture. What I am obtaining in such a transaction is not merely a diner and perhaps some petty profits, but in fact a human being my dear Jimmy. I am buying you in mind, in body and in soul. You are mine to play with as I see fit Jimmy. I am gaining you. You are my puppet from the moment you accept my deal. You will be a new pawn for my chess-board and you will smile and accept it because quite frankly you can’t afford not to.

Breaking his gaze from Holmes, Jimmy looks at the floor, considering his options. He considers throwing Holmes out for such words, but he thinks better of it. He weighs up both the good and the bad. He is fighting within himself to decide what to do next. Such conflict is obvious and draws a serpentine smirk from Holmes. Jimmy then reaches a deal with his soul. He looks up at Holmes and asks the same questions again.

Jimmy: Why?

Holmes raises his eyebrow inquisitively.

Jimmy: Why do such a thing? To obtain a man’s soul and being? Why would you do that?

Holmes: Jimmy, I’m not what you would typically stereotype as a nice man. I am as far removed from the ideal, friendly man as you can imagine. I am pure, unbridled evil Jimmy. I have come to accept that fact over time and I have come to love it. I gain a sick pleasure from watching small worms like you wriggle through life while I stand tall over such insignificance. I get a warm feeling inside knowing I own everything about you and knowing that you are powerless to not only refuse me. I simply get off on the notion of controlling people and manipulating events.

That’s why in my other role in life I am constantly angered and enraged. I have nowhere near as much control over the peasants in WrestleZone Championship Wrestling as I do in the so called “real world”. I suppose if I did I may find life boring, but to me, once life is boring, it will ultimately mean I am victorious. I will have achieved a state that means I am on top of the mountain, undisputedly. There will be no question of my greatness, and then that will entertain me as I warm my cockles to the notion of ultimate omnipotence.

Temporarily not in control of his mouth, Jimmy blurts out another question.

Jimmy: WrestleZone Championship Wrestling?

Holmes pauses. He stares at Jimmy and his smirk slowly fades. A neutral, deadpan expression rules his face now. Then, quick as a flash, one side of his face rises, creating a smile of sorts.

Holmes: WrestleZone Championship Wrestling. It is my livelihood or would be if I needed the money. You could consider it the thing that occupies most of my time and in that sense that makes it my occupation. I am, as bizarre as it may sound a professional wrestler. I take living, breathing human beings, manipulate and contort them in vile and unpredictable ways and break their spirits and bodies. That makes it similar to what I do in the business world I suppose. However it is not only that. It is the quest for control that constantly eludes me. It keeps me around because I need to rule the world. It is not a dream, nor is it a birthright; it is a necessity. I need to win the World Heavyweight Championship and stand atop the world of wrestling, holding my head high in declaration as champion of all.

That is why it brings me so much pain when men like Triple X rise up to confront me. They believe in themselves and their own personal quests. They believe I should be defeated and slaughtered because I represent a selfish desire to succeed and rise to the top by any means necessary and yet they don’t realise that they are the same. They have cut the throats of so many others, particularly those they oppose, to rise higher. They do this and act as if they are better than the rest. Big Dave did it, and now Triple X does it. But not only that, Triple X believes that because once, many moons ago, he defeated me that he is already superior to me. He thinks that victory is a formality but if I were to make such a proclamation then I would be spat on and hated. The hypocrisy disturbs me. I am purely evil, but men like Triple X refuse to accept the same notion.

All this leads to though is the ultimate destruction of my nemesis though. There is simply too much riding on my victory to allow Triple X to block my path to ultimate victory. I thought I could remedy the situation by placing an inconceivable amount of money, well for others, on top of X’s head. First $500,000 and then a million and it was delightful to watch him squirm as so many tried to claim the bounty. Then I was forced to take the money off the table for a shot at glory. I did so all too gladly because I have come to realise that Triple X is no longer a business matter; he is a personal one. His arrogance and constant poking at me for defeating me months ago will come to an end as I end his miserable existence in front of the fans he so loves to pander too. I will paint the canvas red with his blood and I will silence the whole of WZCW personally. And then I will be a step away from the ultimate glory; The World Heavyweight Championship, and the main event of Kingdom Come.

Holmes beams with a smile, dreaming of this scenario as Jimmy stands, lingering in his own thoughts about the enormous amounts of money Holmes has talked about throwing around as if they were mere petty amounts of cash.

Jimmy: $500,000 is a lot of money. I’m sure many men would be willing to do some extreme things to earn such money.

Holmes: Someone will. I’m sure. But this is not a matter for you to concern yourself with Jimmy. You have heard my offer and you will gladly accept it, won’t you?

Raising a single eyebrow, Holmes quizzes Jimmy. With a dark feeling in his stomach, Jimmy nods.

Jimmy: I will.

Unsure with himself, Jimmy looks to the floor, trying not to make eye-contact with Holmes, fearing what it will bring. Holmes on the other hand smiles in only a way he can. His evil is clear for all to see.

Holmes: Most excellent.

He snatches his gloves with one hand and grabs his cane with another. He places it in the fold between the two parts of his arm as he picks up his hat. Dressed in the same way he entered, Holmes walks to the door, his back to Jimmy.

Holmes: It’s been a pleasure Jimmy. My legal team will be by tomorrow morning to finalise everything. I’m looking forward to working with you, and your dear wife.

Holmes turns his head to see a somewhat ashamed Jimmy and he smiles continuously as he has done throughout. He opens the door one final time as the bell rings, echoing throughout as if the bell tolling one last time. Holmes and the two men in suits, who have been guarding the door, vanish into the night and leave Jimmy alone to contemplate.

 

[BK Styles]

Eleven Months Ago…

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3!!!!!!

Anderson: Here is your winner, and new WZCW Elite “X” Champion, Triple X!

The referee hands me the belt and I roll out of the ring, my ribs in agony from the huge knee shot. The referee hands me the title belt and, to put it mildly, I am in sheer disbelief. I glance back briefly to the ring; Steven Holmes is on his stomach, his eyes filled with inconsolable rage. I quickly turn to the fans; the people who cheered me on, willing me to defeat the tyrannous Holmes. I climb on to the barrier, the adrenaline blocking the pain out, and I dive into the crowd, the fans catching me and moving me along. I lift the belt up to finally get a proper look at my first ever title in WZCW, and as I do it dawns on me just how big an achievement this is.

I’m a marked man.

The crowd eventually let me down, and I make my way back to the backstage area. A stagehand says something along the lines of ‘you’d better go to the trainers room’, but I barely hear. My mind is too focused on my accomplishment, and the slow, but sure, return of the immense pain in my chest. Oh, and the fact that Holmes dropped me on my skull with an Imperial Impaler. I carry on walking, staring into the gold plate in my hands, before a shadow just ahead stops me in my tracks. I look up, and none other than Austin Reynolds, WZCW Tag Team Champion, is staring back at me. He looks me up and down, and gives a small smile.

Reynolds: Nice job.

He holds his hand out. I take a moment to respond, but I eventually take his hand and shake it. E goes to walk past, but stops as he reaches me.

Reynolds: People are going to see you as a flash in the pan. A rookie punching well above his weight. A fluke. You get that, right?

I again take a moment to comprehend Austin’s words, but I slowly nod.

Reynolds: Good. Then you should also know that it’s your job to take their words and stuff them up their collective arses.

X: …they’re right though. If it weren’t for Dave, then…

Reynolds: -then Holmes may have won. But he didn’t. You did.

X: I just-

Reynolds: Remember; the champion isn’t defined by reaching the mountain top. He’s defined by staying there.

Austin smiles again, and pats me on the shoulder.

Reynolds: Listen, I’ve got to go and check on Ricky. But just remember what I said, X. And congratulations.

And with that, Austin walks away to the locker room. I watch him as he walks away; one of the greatest Elite X champions of all time, giving me advice. Of course, he’s right. I needed to prove myself beforehand anyway. Nothings changed. And yet, in the pit of my stomach, I feel an uneasiness about holding the title. My mind flicks back to the piledriver, laying on the mat whilst I feel my foot being moved to the bottom rope. I look down at the belt, my belt. A spec of blood has dripped down from my mouth onto the gold plate. As I wipe it away, it dawns on me that I know, even with Austin's kind words, that I don't deserve the Elite X championship.

Present Day…

It’s an arena in Phoenix. A house show. Triple X isn’t booked to be there till later, but has been asked to attend early for an interview for WZCW. com. As the camera comes to life, Becky Serra stands there, mic in hand, looking straight into the camera.

Becky: Ladies and gentlemen, joining me at this time in an exclusive pre-All or Nothing interview; Triple X.

The camera pans slightly to the left, as X comes into shot. He’s pacing, his hands pressed together by his face. A Triple X t-shirt is mostly covered by a hooded jacket, though with the sleves rolled up, his usually-covered up tattoo on his left arm is visible. His eyes are baggy, with shadows appearing underneath them. Yet he seems wide awake, almost on edge.

Becky: Now X, at All or Nothing, you have the chance to become the new number one contender for the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship, but to do that, you must defeat the man who you scored 2012’s biggest upset over; Steven Holmes. Your thoughts going into this match.

X paces for a little longer, before finally coming to a stop.

X: All or nothing, Becky. All or nothing.

He lowers his hands, and stares at the camera; his eyes wide open.

X: March 27th, 2012. Eleven months ago. The date which, as you rightly said, I shocked the world by defeating Steven Holmes and becoming Elite X Champion. The date I’m remembered most for, with our rematch finally coming nearly a year on from our first encounter. And, truth be told, a lot has changed since then. With Mr Holmes, he’s risen high up the mountain, to the point where he can see the very peak. He has his flag in his hand and he’s so close, he swears he can just about…touch it. Whereas I, well, I haven’t done too badly for myself. I was the longest reigning Elite X champion in 2012. I won it in only my fifth ever match here. I defended it at Kingdom Come. And I won three WZCW awards. It’s as if I’ve been on a rocket; aimed for the top of that same mountain, and Holmes and I both know there’s only room for one of us. One will climb to challenge the king of the top of the mountain, while the other will fall back to the bottom,and start all over again.

X looks down and runs his hands through his hair.

X: But there’s a lot more to this than just the number one contendership. Not just for me, but for ol’ Sherlock, too. You see, I still remember what was said about my title win. And for every good comment, there was a bad one. I was called a ‘one hit wonder’, a ‘fluke’, a ‘flash in the pan’, and so on. And yeah, maybe I did score some pretty damn impressive wins since that day, over guys like Sam Smith, Blade, Alex Bowen, Constantine, Drake Callahan, among others, that could have validated my title reign amongst my peers. But the one thing, the only thing I craved more than anything, deep down, was Steven Holmes. I can beat every wrestler on the planet and it wouldn’t matter, because none of them are Steven Holmes. We're bound together, Steven and I. He was ridiculed for losing to me, and I was called a fluke champion due to Big Dave’s help. And truth be told, neither of us have shaken those tags. Holmes likes to pretend he’s above me, and I’m nothing more than a distraction, but we all know a bounty isn’t something you put on ‘distractions’. Holmes doesn’t know if he can beat me, and I know that scares him to death. Then there’s me…Holmes and I never had a rematch, and if you take our tag team encounter a few weeks back into consideration, we’re tied at one apiece. And I want…no…no, I need…to know I can beat him one-on-one. With no help. I beat Steven Holmes, I prove my worth. And not to the critics, or the management of the company, or the other superstars, or not even the fans. I prove to myself, Xander Knight, that I belong here, and that I deserve to be the number one contender.

X looks back briefly at Becky, before returning his gaze to the camera. His expression is now not quite one of anger, but it is an intensity seldom seen from the straight edge superstar.

X: Because that’s what it boils down to in the end, Becky. I may have started out not looking for titles, but the Elite X Championship gave me a buzz unlike any other. And take it from me; an addict will go looking for that buzz again. And no greater buzz could ever come from having my name announced in the same league as men like Titus. Showtime Cougar. Ty Burna. Everest. ‘The One’, Big Will. Those men are true greats. Legends, even. They deserve the tag of ‘great’. Steven Holmes…you are not great. Sure, you’re one of the best in the world today, but you’re not a great. Hell, I’m not a great. And neither of us will automatically become 'great' by winning a world championship. As someone once told me; the champion isn’t defined by reaching the mountain top. He’s defined by staying there. Showtime has beaten everyone put in front of him, including you. He retained his championship in Hell, literally, and beat you in the process. He is a man that can be considered great. You aren’t. I’m not. But this match, at All or Nothing; here we’ll see who makes it to the mountain top.

X stares at the camera for a moment more, before looking back to Becky.

X: This isn't just about that anymore though. Holmes put a bounty on my head. He wanted to pay someone to end my career. (X looks back at the camera) Steven Holmes, you've made this personal. And for your sake, that was the one thing you sure as hell shouldn't have done.

He looks back to Becky.

X: It’s all or nothing, Becky. One of us walks out with everything...

X looks back at the camera.

X: …and the other doesn’t walk out at all.

The cameraman gives a signal that the time for the interview is up, then lowers the camera to the floor.

Becky: Thanks X. This’ll be up on the WZCW.com page in a few days.

X: No problem.

Becky: Hey…Xander.

X, curious, turns to face her.

Becky: Do you remember last year? Before the Lethal Lottery? We spoke, before our interview.

X: Yeah, I remember.

Becky: You remember what I said?

X smiles, seeing where the conversation is going.

X: ‘Sometimes, someone new needs to break the mould set for the rest to follow.’

Becky smiles.

Becky: I know as interviewers we’re meant to be unbiased. Then again, yeah, like that actually happens. But all I’ll say is this X.

She leans in and whispers something in X’s ear. He smiles back and pats her on the shoulder.

X: Thanks, Becky.

X turns and walks towards the exit of the building. Faith is standing by the car outside in the glorious sunshine, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.

Faith: You done flirting with the hot interviewer?

X: God, you sound like my mother.

They both get in the car and begin to move away from the arena.

Faith: …okay.

X: …okay, what?

Faith: I’ve worked out what’s wrong.

X: Nothing’s wrong. What makes you think that?

Faith: X, you look like crap.

X: Thanks.

Faith: I’m serious. This dreams thing is screwing you up. You look like you hardly slept.

X: Well gee, that might be because I hardly slept…

Faith: Well, how the hell do you hope on beating Steven Holmes like this?

X: The same way I always do. I’ll go out there, give it my all, and see what happens.

Faith: You make it sound so easy.

X: Hardly.

The sit there in a horribly awkward silence for a few moments.

X: Fine. I keep...thinking about winning the Elite X title. About...about how it made me feel.

Faith: You’ve always said that was one of your greatest moments.

X: It was, but…(X thinks for a moment, swallowing his pride as he begins to speak)…after I won it, and all the way through holding it, at no point did I genuinely believe I deserved it. Sure, I said after a while that I’d gotten over that, but I never did. Just…winning it the way I did…it was tainted. I hadn’t proven myself to anyone by winning like that.

Faith: It bothers you that much?

X: I know it shouldn’t. But…this match with Holmes, it’s my chance of silencing that voice. Holmes is such a better wrestler now than before, but so am I. We’ve both got so much to gain, but equally, so much to lose. This is my shot at finally putting this feeling to bed.

Faith: Well, I know you can do it X, but you really need to-

X: Stop the car.

Faith: W-what?

X: I said stop, just here.

Faith, though rather bemused, obeys, and pulls over to the sidewalk, opposite some apartments.

Faith: X, what are you-

Before she can finish, X has opened the door and left the car. He walks around to the driver side door, stopping before continuing on.

X: Look, I’ve got something I’ve got to do. I’ll catch up with you later, alright?

Faith: …yeah, I guess…

Faith rolls the window back up, and pulls away.

Okay, Xander. You need to do this sooner or later.

X walks through the door, and stops outside apartment 1B. He knocks on the dark wooden door three times. The door unlocks, and a familiar face appears from behind it.

X: Hi, dad.

Alan Knight stares back at his son, virtually expressionless. He turns and heads back inside, leaving the door wide open. X enters, and is greeted with the immediate stale odour of cigarettes and alcohol. He enters the living room, that contains nothing but a table, a television, a sofa, and dozens upon dozens of empty beer bottles. X looks around in disgust as his father looks outside the window, not even facing his son. His clothes look like they’re a few days old, and he’s now sporting an unkempt beard.

X: I heard you got a construction job.

Alan: Who told you that?

X: Mom.

Alan: Well, you can tell her that her info is a little outdated. Got let go a few weeks ago.

X: I’m sorry.

Alan: No, you’re not.

X bites his tongue, determined not to give in to his fathers goading.

X: Let me guess…your boss didn’t like you. Or was it your drinking he didn’t like?

Alan: He didn’t like the fact I could do my job and drink at the same time.

X: Jesus Christ…

Alan: Oh, that’s right! You’re now the..what is it…the moral arbiter! Aren’t you! Good old clean Axlexander. Hasn’t he done well? My ass you’ve done well. (He looks X up and down.) What the hell you doin’ here, anyway?

X: Just wanted to let you know. Well, not that you care. But I’ve got a number one contenders match soon. Just thought that whatever part of you is still a good father would like to know.

Alan: Who you facing?

X looks at his dad, confused. Almost comically so.

X: Steven Holmes. Why?

Alan: Hope he kicks your ass.

X laughs sarcastically. Alan glares at him further, and takes a swig of his open bottle, emptying it.

Alan: That all you wanted? If it was, you know where the door is, now fuck off.

X stands there, a little broken by his dads words. Not knowing what to say, he goes to turn and leave, before stopping. He takes a deep breath and turns back.

X: Dad, please.

Alan: You still here?

X: Just come with me. We can get you help.

Alan: Who says I want help.

X: Look at you!

X’s words ring throughout the apartment. Alan stands there, almost awoken by X’s words.

X: You’re wearing clothes that are a few days old. You’re drinking alcohol non-stop. And you can’t even hold a job down. You’re a mess. Your life’s a mess.

Alan: You can talk…

X: Yeah. But I sorted my life out. I fought my demons. I’m still fighting them. And you can too.

Alan laughs hard at his son's plea.

Alan: It…it’s your fault I’m here. I knew Rachel was soft…that she’d side with you. You’re te reason I’m here. Why my life’s like this. You are!

X stands there, shattered by his fathers words. All of a sudden, a switch inside X’s head seems to flick. He walks towards his dad, and gets in his face.

X: You wanna blame me for this? Fine. Go for it. But the truth is, if you were half the man you used to be, you’d be fighting to fix your life, and make things better. Not by drowning yourself in poison every day to pass the time. I’ve been there, I’ve done that. And I got better. I pulled myself put of the hole. Are you gonna do that? Or are you gonna stay in this pathetic existence rather than do the hard work of making things right? Your choice.

X stares at his father for a moment, before turning to leave.

Alan: …Alex…

X stops by the doorway, not even bothering to turn around.

Alan: …is this…how you felt…when you lost…

X remains exactly where he is, not moving an inch.

X: You tell me dad. How’d you feel? If it’s as if you’ve lost everything, then I’d say that’s pretty damn accurate.

Alan: I…

X finally turns to face his father. He’s seated now, the bottle in his hand empty.

Alan: I…don’t…have a problem.

X stares into his fathers eyes. Eyes he’s seen staring him back in the face before, a long time ago. He walks over to the coffee table.

X: Okay. Well, when you look around this room, and see nothing in here but empty alcohol bottles…(X picks up an unopened bottle of beer)…and you can’t afford to buy any more…(he slams it down in front of his dad)…then see if you can say those words again. See how comforting they are.

He remains there a moment, before finally turning away from his father, and leaves the apartment. He walks onto the sidewalk and looks up to the sky.

Clouding over. Just my luck…

He turns, and heads back towards his neighborhood, breaking into a jog. As he does, he puts the thought of his dad out of his head, and thinks of the words Becky said before he left the arena. The words he felt might just push him on to becoming WZCW's new number one contender…

Becky: (whisper) Go break the mould again, kid.