The scene opens backstage at a WZCW house show, only a few days before Apocalypse. Sam Smith stumbles around the corner and down the hallway, toward the locker rooms. Smith looks as if he hasn't slept for days; he has giant bags under his eyes, he's unshaven, and completely disheveled. Smith garners many a strange look as he makes his way around, especially from Dr. Steven Kurtesy.
Smith pounds on a door and is let in by Leon Kensworth.
Smith: Leon, I gotta get this over with.
Kensworth: You look like you've been to hell and back.
Smith: I'm fine.
Kensworth: Is it your leg? Something else?
Smith: Look, I said I'm fine. Drop it.
Kensworth: Sam, --
Smith turns to Kensworth, staring a hole through him. Smith's eyes are beady, black, and lifeless. Smith swallows before growling at Kensworth.
Smith: Drop it.
Smith's stare is finally broken as a camera man walks into the room.
Camera Man: Are you ready?
Smith: Yeah, I'm ready.
Camera Man: How are we doing this?
Smith: Just me and the camera. I don't need Leon.
Kensworth shrugs and rolls his eyes, walking out of the room.
Camera Man: Do you need a lead-in or anything?
Smith: No. I'm good.
The camera man sets up the camera for Smith. After a few moments of complete silence, Smith begins to speak.
Smith: Everything can be taken from you in an instant.
Everything you know and love can just disappear from your life.
Don't believe me? Then just take a look at the savage beatdown John Constantine laid down on me after our match.
He took it all. My health, my happiness, my championship... but most importantly, he took away my confidence.
Smith pauses as he looks straight into the camera with a somber look on his face.
Smith: I don't wish that on anybody. I'm a broken man, a shell of what I used to be... and Constantine knows this. This is the first time anybody has ever gotten into my head. This is the first time I've ever been scared for a match.
How would you all like it if you were scared to do your job? What if you worked as a fry cook and were too scared to make food? What if you worked as a janitor, but had a deadly fear of your mop?
I'm dead serious. How would you do your job? How will I do my job? How am I going to go out there and get what's rightfully mine, the Elite X Championship? Am I going to sit in the corner of the ring and refuse to fight?
No. You all damn well know I won't. Something happened to me. Among all the fear inside my head was a little inkling of motivation. A little inkling of courage. I realized that I wasn't EVER going to let John Constantine do that again.
Smith pauses for a moment, a sly grin crawling across his face.
Smith: I realized I was going to kick his ass.
Nobody is going to make Sam Smith their bitch. Not John Constantine, not Austin Reynolds, not Alex Bowen, not Ty Burna, nobody will.
You know why? Because I won't quit until my body gives out. I didn't slave away for years to finally get to WZCW and to represent them as their Elite X Champion, for someone to swoop down and take that all away... Especially someone lacking a moral bone in their body, like John Constantine.
You made a huge mistake Constantine. HUGE! By attacking me you only motivated me more. I will make you pay for everything you did, so help me God, I will break you in half in the middle of that ring. I'll lock on the Double Jeopardy and no matter how many times you tap, I won't let go. I'll make you beg in that ring, you spineless sack of crap.
Smith takes a deep breath to settle himself down before continuing on.
Smith: This is a side of Sam Smith nobody has seen before. I'm not leaving myself vulnerable ever again. I'll wreck anything that is in my path and you're first up Constantine.
You created this beast and you have to tame it if you want to keep my Elite X Championship.
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The scene re-opens moments after as Smith is walking toward the exit before he is cut off and pinned to a wall by Dr. Steven Kurtesy.
Kurtesy: I don't know what you're up to, but get your shit together, kid.
Kurtesy releases and walks away as a stunned Smith walks to his car.
Smith (to himself): Get my shit together, what does he know?
Smith opens his car and begins fumbling through his glove box, looking for something. He winces repeatedly, grabbing at his leg. He finally finds what he needs as he pulls out a bottle of pills. He rips open the top and pours out a handful, swallowing it in one motion.
Seconds later, Smith throws the now empty bottle down to the floor.
Smith: Shit, what do I do now? That was my second prescription in two weeks, the doctor won't buy my stories anymore.
Smith pounds his steering wheel before speeding off. He drives down the street and with every passing moment, as the pills kick in, he becomes more erratic. He finally pulls over at a large modern apartment building.
He opens his door, without ever turning off his car, and stumbles in. He makes his way to the top floor before falling to his knees at a door. He pounds away at the door until it is opened by a shocked Chelsea Shaw, Smith's former fiancée. She drops down and grabs him by the shoulders.
Chelsea: Oh my God, Sam!
Smith collapses into her lap.
Smith: Please help me.
