"I know what it is to be alone."
I was in the moment. The lights were bright, highlighting every inch of my face and body. I wasn't a vain person, but this profession demanded that I look a certain way, and since quitting drinking and really dedicating myself to my craft, I knew I looked good. Some say the beard took away from my good looks, but I preferred it. I know Stoya likedit, too. Behind me was a WZCW backdrop; I'd dispensed with interviewers and microphones. Half the interviewers wouldn't have even spoken to me, anyway. Not without good reason, admittedly. But this was it - this was the moment that I lived for. The cameras were rolling, recording and preparing to send out my words to the WZCW Universe. It had been too long since I was really here, really feeling the adrenaline as I thought not about the championship, or the bigger picture, but right then and there - my match against the would be superstar, Mikey Stormrage.
"Believe me when I say it - I've been alone for a long time. And I know what you sycophants are saying out there - but Drake, think about how long you've worked for the Powers Talent Agency, and think about your girlfriends, and everyone who used to love you. And I say - you have no idea. People surrounding you backstage, people living with you, people going to dinner with you - that's one thing. But in the ring, the best in the world know that the only way to survive is to do it alone."
I let a little rage creep onto my face, let my eyes pop a little bit. I wondered, briefly, how in control of it I really was. Was I letting it out - or was it forcing its way there? It looked good for the camera, at least.
"I've done it all on my own. I hit this company with absolutely no one and nobody at my side, not in the ring, not in the back, nowhere. And you know what I did? I staked my claim in the Sprint for the Spot battle royal. And before anyone could blink, I was in contention for the Elite X Champion, and I haven't looked back since. All I do is win gold in this company, and I do it by myself. I was the Mayhem Champion, and I carried it with pride until I was Eurasian Champion. And when I was forced out of this company by the first great conspiracy committed against me, what happened when I came back? Before any of you knew what was going on, I was stealing the show in the Lethal Lottery, competing in King for a Day, and despite everyone and everybody in this company trying to hold me back..."
I gave them a dramatic pause. I knew the camera is zooming in on my face.
"I won it all. And I did it alone. No one was in the ring helping me. I didn't get to tag out. I didn't get to run away when the going got tough. I gritted my teeth and fought through the pain. I persevered. Every hold I broke myself. Every pin attempt I broke out of alone. Every counter I pulled off on my own. Every piece of offense delivered in that ring - mine. I know exactly what it is to be alone in WZCW, and believe it when I say it - it's hard as hell."
I took a step back and ran my hand through my hair, preparing for the next phase.
"So I know how hard it is for this pathetic piece of lard Mikey Stormrage to have to be on his own. It's hard for any WZCW superstar, even the morbidly obese ones who can't put down the onion rings to pick up a dumbbell every now and again. But it's especially hard for the lazy, weak willed, and spineless sacks of crap who put themselves into the tag team division. Every tag team on this roster is two failed superstars, chumps who couldn't make it on their own and have banded together in some kind of perverse symbiotic relationship that keeps them alive long after they should have been shown the door. Each one of them relies on their partner to do all the hard stuff. 'Here, let me drag you to the ropes', says useless sack of crap to talentless hack. 'Hey, let me break up that pin for,' says wannabe superhero to wannabe movie star. 'Let's hit this move together,' says failed mixed martial artist with a broken neck to 500 pound goo monster. You're all so pathetic. And you all walk around like you're the bees knees. Wearing titles like they mean something, like the tag team championships are worth a damn. They should be made out of pennies, just to show you how worthless they really are."
I cracked a grin, letting the audience worldwide hate me and my smile.
"It must be awful to go from that coddled little play world that you pretend is wrestling to the real show, Stormrage. Now you've gotta do it all on your own. No one's here to bail you out. No one's here to be your buddy. It's time to go one on one with the greatest superstar in WZCW history - me. I've been in wars you can't even imagine. I've won the world title and had it stolen from my rightful possession. I've bled inside Hell in a Cell. I've all but killed men in pursuit of victory. And if you think for one second that you're even remotely prepared to face a man of my caliber, you've got another thing coming. So get ready to step out of AAA and play in the big leagues, little boy - or should I say, extremely huge fat boy - and try your hand at wrestling alone for a change. It's not going to be a pleasant experience for you. But if nothing else, when your skull is cracked and you can't breathe, you'll be able to say this - you did it alone."
I let my grin grow wider for the final shot.
"And it turns out, when you go it alone, Mikey, you just really suck."
----
A few moments after the cameras stop rolling, I step aside. The crew verifies they've got everything they need and I walk over to Stoya, who was waiting in the corner. She was playing her smartphone at something or other, probably emails. If it concerned me, she'd tell me. She looked up as I approached.
"All done?" she asked.
"We're good here. It's been too long since I did that. It feels bad to let those feelings out, sometimes," I replied.
"Oh, maybe we should get you a therapist," she teased.
"Hilarious. Can we be serious for a moment?"
She shot me a brief glance, then put her phone in her pocket and met my stare evenly.
"What?"
"Did you look into what I asked you to?" I replied. She gave that damn shrug of hers that managed to be nonchalant and sensual all at once. How could she possibly do that?
"Yeah, but I didn't find much. Anderson said she just flubbed her line. Wrote down the wrong name on the cards, or something."
"The wrong name? Or the wrong details? Damn it, it doesn't matter. No one on the roster says they hail from Parts Unknown anymore."
"I don't get why you're so obsessed with it."
"Because there's clues everywhere, Stoya. Someone is laying people out backstage and leaving notes behind. Someone convinced Titus to go after me. Someone is pulling strings in this company. And that someone doesn't want me to be world champion, I'm convinced of that. Any little mix up, any little mistake - maybe it's a clue as to who's running things around here."
"So...what, you think it's El Califa Dragon? I checked him out. He seems to be who he says he is. Luchadore who wants to make it big north of the border. Pretty normal stuff."
"I don't like it. I've been doing some more thinking - when I became champion, no one had heard anything about this guy. But then he comes into the company, and right around then I can't seem to pick up a win. I lose my title, and instead of a fair rematch, I get put into a four way Hell in a Cell. Coincidences? I don't like it. Now there's people 'messing up' his name...no, there's something fishy about him, Stoya."
"Other new people have come into the company since then. Maybe it's the new caterers."
"Don't get me started on those guys. I'm convinced they're part of it, too. All they ever offer is garbage food, like they're trying to destroy my conditioning. This goes deeper than you can possibly imagine, Stoya. And think about this - Califa was hot shotted as soon as he came into the company. Everyone else gets stuck with Aftershock duty. He stood out then, and he stood out the other night. He's been here at all the right times, had access to all the right places. I don't buy it. Not for a second."
"So you think he's got some kind of grudge against you?"
"I want to know who's under that mask. I'd bet my bottom dollar it isn't some Mexican day laborer."
"Then who?"
"Some who disappeared right around the time I won my title. Someone who I could never go anywhere as long as they were around. Someone with old blood against me. Someone like..."
I trailed of as my eyes widened. I had it. I finally had it.
"What?" Stoya said, her eyebrow raised.
"I know who it is. And if they think they're hiding in the shadows any longer, they're sorely mistaken. This ends now."
