In the executive offices of WZCW Headquarters, Drake Callahan sits outside a large office, waiting on posh couches with Stoya Vidic andJason Andal. Andal is reviewing documents and occasionally tapping something on his phone, while Stoya mutters to herself while writing in a small book. She occasionally shoots a glance at Drake, doing his best to be relaxed, as if she disapproved. He steadfastly works at not paying attention to her, though she's succeeding in keeping him on edge. He suspects that that's exactly what she wants. He sighs and picks up his title belt to look at it, an action that's become rather common for him in recent days.
He thinks about the last round of WZCW television. He'd refused to wrestle as a measure of protest against WZCW for rebuffing his attempts at contract negotiations and for continually booking him on Ascension, instead of Meltdown. Apparently, fulfilling one of his two demands was enough in their eyes, as he was furious to learn earlier in the day he'd been booked against Steven Kurtesy, not even in the main event of Ascension. But he'd gotten here, at least, and Max had said that was enough. This was the more important thing, after all. To Max, anyway.
As if on cue, Max Powers took that opportunity to bust through the elevator, causing a slight uproar among the small party assembled. Max nodded to the receptionist and pointed toward Drake and the agents before joining them. They all made to rise but Max waved them off, sitting down next to Drake.
Drake: We didn't expect you here, Max.
Max gave a guilty grin before answering.
Max: I didn't expect to be here either, Drake, but I have to say, with these two assigned to you day and night, and me representing you on WZCW TV...ah, heck, I remembered why I used to love doing this. I've decided to travel along with you as a, uh, let's say a special consultant, alright?
Stoya opens her mouth and raises a hand as if to say something rather sharp to Max, but he cuts her off.
Max: Relax, Stoya. You're still the lead here. You're going to direct contract negotiations. We can call it a performance evaluation.
Stoya doesn't appear mollified in the slightest, but she only grumbles a bit louder and faster as she returns to her notes. Max flashes Drake a boyish smile before opening his own briefcase to review notes. Drake, not for the first time, feels out of place being the only one without a briefcase. But he was the talent, after all.
His thoughts turned back to the belt and his last round off television. They'd kept him busy enough while he was off, at any rate. Set him up with a whole new training regimen. It was better than it was when he was working with Joe. He couldn't understand why he'd ever even bothered with the old man. All it had ever been was decades old workouts, things that might have kept him in relative shape, but not elite. The new workouts were incredible, both improving his body and teaching him new techniques. He would have a surprise or two for Showtime the next time they met.
The receptionist stood and clear his throat.
Receptionist: Mr. Bail will see you now.
The party stands and share glances, all nodding and organizing papers. Max gestures to Drake to take the lead. The receptionist opens the doors and they enter to a large meeting room. On one side of the table is a small group of WZCW lawyers and negotiators, meaningless men with forgettable faces. As Drake strides forward, he locks eyes with the only man who matters. Taller, wider, and heavier than him, Big Dave - "Mr. Bail" - was physically intimidating and in a position of total power here as the new General Manager of Meltdown. And yet, Drake reminded himself, he was not the world champion. He was not the franchise player. It was Drake that would hold the power in this room, soon.
Dave stood up and offered a fake smile along with his hand. Drake took it, half expecting Dave to crush it, but apparently a few weeks in business had taught him some tact.
Dave: Drake, it's good to see you. I have to say we were a little caught off guard by your push for contract negotiations - your current deal doesn't end until after Unscripted, after all.
Drake: My new representation has advised me to get the ball rolling as early as possible. In all honesty, I would have preferred to get things moving earlier.
Dave: This is about as early as we could make it, Drake, what with the changing ownership situation around here. The paperwork officially making me general manager has barely been filed.
Drake: All the same, here we are. Let me introduce Ms. Stoya Vidic, my chief agent, Mr. Jason Andal, my legal counsel, and Mr. Max Powers, my, er, special consultant.
Dave took their hands one by one in turn before introducing the WZCW side of the table. Drake didn't bother remembering their names. None of them meant anything. When it was done, Dave asked them to sit.
Dave: Well, let's get right to business then. You've made some rather public threats regarding your contract...
Drake: Just to make sure the WZCW universe is aware of the situation. I'd hate for them to tune in the Meltdown after Unscripted to find themselves without a champion.
Dave: You sound like you'll definitely be champion at that time.
Drake: I don't think we have anything to worry about on that front.
Dave: Very well. All the same, we'd appreciate it if we could continue to keep these negotiations private.
Drake: No promises. You're not going to get us to cave this early.
Dave put on what appeared to be a forced, false smile, but he was cut off hastily by a stammering WZCW representative.
WZCW Rep: Now, now, there's no need to be uncivil. We're all just trying to get what's best for Mr. Callahan and the company now.
A moment of tension between Dave and Drake lasts before Stoya dissipates it.
Stoya: If we're all done posturing, we'd like to hear your offer.
Dave nods and breaks away from Drake's glance, grabbing some papers. He makes as if to grab for a glasses case but tightens his fist instead, bringing it back to his lap. Drake notices and smile slightly as Dave squints and leans in on the paper.
Dave: We're prepared to offer two years at six million dollars...
Stoya makes a noise halfway between a choke and a shout.
Stoya: That is an insult. You've got to be kidding me! This is the WZCW World Heavyweight Champion!
Dave: Champion for barely six weeks, without a defense, and not yet with the company for a year. The company has had little time to evaluate Mr. Callahan's long term value to the company...
Stoya: Do we need to remind you that Mr. Callahan was with the company for over a year prior to this current stint? A year in which he showed promise as the biggest up and coming star in the company, promise he fulfilled by winning the championship?
Dave: Do I need to remind you that Drake left the company and proceeded to spend the time between his stints in WZCW drinking and cavorting with criminals?
Stoya: Mr. Callahan has never been convicted of anything, we'll remind you, and is now completely sober.
Dave: Sober at work, at least, but it's not like we've got a watchdog on him at all hours. And he might never have been convicted, but he sure does seem to get himself into trouble. There's a rumor going around about an arrest, even...
Stoya slams her hands down on the table.
Stoya: You go too far, Mr. Bail!
Dave gives her a winning smile.
Dave: Just Dave will be fine, Ms. Vidic.
Stoya: Mr. Bail, you throw rumor and insinuation in the face of my client, but you ignore fact. I'll give you the facts. He is the world champion and is in a position to hold that title for many months to come. He is one of WZCW's top superstars in an era when you seem to be losing top talent left and right. Who is your main event without Drake? Especially with Showtime discussing retirement.
Dave shrugs nonchalantly.
Dave: My main event is the next generation, Stoya. I'll have no problem finding a new world champion if Drake decides to leave us.
Max: You're going to sit here and insult us like that? You're going to pretend that Drake isn't the future of WZCW?
Dave: The future of WZCW is someone who cares about this company, Mr. Powers, not someone who wants a payday. And speaking of, what exactly is your counter offer.
Stoya makes a show of shuffling papers, but everyone on Drake's side knows exactly what they were asking for.
Stoya: Based on recent market trends, WZCW revenue, and cost of living, we feel a reasonable offer would be...five years at 45 million, and 20% of merchandise, plus the cost of all future travel, food, lodging, etc., etc....
There's a moment of silence as the WZCW representatives and Dave look stunned. Dave manages to bark a laugh as he looks incredulous.
Dave: You've got to be kidding me. That would be the largest contract in WZCW history. Sure, you can take as much of merchandise as you want, nobody buys your crap anyway, but 45 million dollars plus expenses? There's just no way. Not even if you were Ty Burna himself. You're off your rocker, all of you.
Drake: It's no less than I deserve. And I won't take anything less to return to this company after Unscripted.
Dave: Then you're done after Unscripted.
Stoya: Mr. Bail, I want you to think very carefully for a moment of what you're implying. You're talking about letting the WZCW Champion walk away after Unscripted. How will that go over with the fans? The other wrestlers? The board?
Dave opens his mouth to respond but takes a moment to think it over. Glaring, he continues.
Dave: If you're champion at the end of Unscripted, maybe we'll have a different conversation that night. But understand this - if you enter Unscripted as champion, don't you dare think I won't do everything in my power to take that title away from you.
Max: So you'll strip him? Put him through some bullshit stipulation he can't help but lose? You think that'll go over any better?
Dave chews his lip and takes a moment to consider.
Dave: I can tell you this. I'm not going to be held hostage over something that you might not even have in two weeks, let alone after Unscripted. If you want this ridiculous contract - and don't think the board will approve a dime more, even if you do want to walk out - you'll get it the night after you walk out of Unscripted with that belt around your waist. In the meantime, if you want a dime more than two years at six million, and you don't want this thing to go down to the wire - impress me. Because all you are to me right now is a chump with dollar signs in his eyes and a glorified midcarder. Impress me.
Drake bit back something that might well get him fired and looked at Stoya. She appeared to be doing the same thing. They shared a long glance and then a nod.
Stoya: You've made your position clear; we have done the same with ours. I think we're done here, Mr. Bail.
Dave stands and his representatives follow, but Drake's party declines any further formalities and walk out of the meeting. They get to the elevator before Max explodes.
Max: That insolent son of a bitch! Does he have any idea who he's dealing with? You just wait, Drake, we'll get every dime we asked for and his job, too.
Stoya: If the board of directors knew how this pig conducted his negotations...
Drake: Impress him.
Max: What?
Drake: He asked me to...impress him.
Max: Don't worry about it. You've got nothing to prove to him.
There's a long moment of silence.
Drake: If he wants me to impress him...I'll damn sure impress him.
The group shares nothing further after that pronouncement. It's a long and silent trip back to the car and the airport.
----
The same party that exited WZCW headquarters a few days ago enters the arena where WZCW will hold Ascension this week, rolling in similarly outfitted in expensive suits and the world championship belt over Drake's shoulder. They make the same silent sojourn through the halls until reaching a private locker room. Drake is pleased to find that a nameplate has been put up, reading: "Drake Callahan - WZCW World Heavyweight Champion."
It was a start.
The group unloads in the room. Not long after arriving, there's a knock at the door. Drake shouts for them to come in - he was expecting them.
Becky Serra sullenly enters the room, a camera crew trailing her. She shoots a dirty look at Drake and his crew before turning to the camera crew and murmuring some instructions. Drake sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
Drake: You can't at least say hello, Becky?
She stands up straight and takes a deep breath before speaking, not bothering to turn to look at Drake.
Becky: They can make me come here and do my job, but they can't make me exchange pleasantries with you.
Drake: Come on, Becky, what did I ever do to you?
Becky rounds on him faster than a whip, barely restraining fury evident in her voice.
Becky: You think we don't know, Drake? One week, Kate is at your arm, obviously head over heels for you, and when you come back, she's nowhere to be seen, and you're surrounded by suits. Meanwhile, we all hear the rumors - police at your hotel room, no one can so much as find Kate - do you think we're stupid?
Drake chews for a moment and mutters something, turning back to his bag and grabbing a bottle of water while Becky returns to setting things up. Drake takes a long drink while Becky finishes.
Becky: Fine. We're ready.
Drake nods slowly and comes over to Becky. She nods to the cameraman and begins, putting on the fakest smile he's ever seen.
Becky: This is Becky Serra, here now with the WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, Drake Callahan. Drake, the WZCW Universe has questions as we're all wondering what exactly you did with your time off.
Drake: I took time to re-evaluate everything, Becky, and I'm back and better than ever. An all new training regimen has made me a more dangerous competitor, and two weeks off from the day-to-day toil of WZCW has vastly improved my physical condition. WZCW had better be ready for me.
Becky: The WZCW Universe is also wondering about the contract situation you discussed publicly last time you were with us.
With a glance at Stoya, who shakes her head, Drake answers.
Drake: Negotiations are ongoing and we're all hoping for a resolution. That's all I can say at this time.
Becky: Well, more relevant to this week, I think we're all wondering how you feel about facing former WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, Steven Kurtesy.
Drake: Steven, normally, I wouldn't have much riding on this contest. After all, winning or losing doesn't do much for me other than give me a little momentum heading into Apocalypse. But unfortunately for you, Steven, you come to me just at the junction of me having a new bag of tricks I'm dying to try out and a new drive to...impress our new General Manager. After all, we all want to look good for the new boss, right? So Steven, I'm sorry. You probably want to win and remind yourself of how good you used to be. How you were once a champion, and maybe get yourself another title shot. And you know what? Another time, I might have let that happen, because honestly, I just don't care about you. But this is the wrong week for you, Steven, and I am going to remind everyone why I am the one with this belt, and not you, and not Showtime.
Becky: Well, since you brought it up, with this our last set of television shows before we go to Apocalypse, what are your thoughts regarding Showtime?
Drake considers for a moment, looking at his shoes before continuing. As he does, he grabs the microphone from Becky's hands, ignoring her startled squeak of protest as he looks directly into the camera.
Drake: Are you ready for me, Showtime? Because I don't think you are. You've got the audacity to say to the world that you weren't 100% at Redemption, when you know that's a load of crap. Just an excuse for why you couldn't beat me. Then, you mock me for hiding? I wasn't hiding from anyone, Showtime, and I proved that last week when I knocked your lights out before you failed against the Grand Mystique. And face it, Showtime, that's all you are - a failure. Meltdown 74, I beat you. Redemption, I beat you. I beat you in a tag team match. Last week, I cost you a match versus the Grand Mystique. It's all you do these days isn't it? Fail. Fail, and fail again. I hope you enjoy Barbosa, because you're going to fail against him. And we're going to go to Apocalypse, and I'm going to beat you, and you're going to fail not only to become champion, but I'm going to make sure you remember that your entire career is a failure, as you walk away in disgrace. So have fun this week, Showtime, because it's the last time you're going to be on WZCW television - you're saying goodbye forever at Apocalypse.
Drake takes a deep breath and smiles, a wide grin that never reaches his eyes.
Drake: At Apocalypse, Showtime is over. It's going to be my time.
