{A sight that wasn't all that rare. Steve Awesome, the face of the franchise and the nCw world champion, following a woman down a secluded hallway. Her steps are determined, his caught between hesitation at every corner and hallway, and trying to keep pace. She stops at a door, opening it and stepping aside.}
Staff: Here you are. It's just a conference room, so let me go snag you a pillow or something.
{Steve smiles very happily, before taking another quick look around. Seeing nobody, he nods slowly.}
Steve: Thank you. You'll be out here after.. watching the door?
{She smiles very sweetly, then nods.}
Staff: Of course, Sir. Your safety and sanity is our number one priority.
{Steve nods, and she skedaddles down the hall, hand coming up to touch her earpiece as she turns a corner. Steve watches, then goes to close the door when something hits him.}
Steve: Wait, did you say sanity? What do you... annnnd she's gone.
{Steve sighs and shrugs, walking into the conference room and making sure the door is securely closed. It's a simple enough room. Long table surrounded by simple office chairs. Projection machine in the center, aimed at the screen near the far wall, pulled down from the ceiling. Large windows revealing the skyline, blackout curtain pushed to one side. The lights flicker briefly and then hum as Steve hits the switch.
Steve: Could be better, though I suppose it could be worse. Carpets not too bad, table.. ew, no...
{Steve wanders about the room, commenting on this that and the other thing. He reaches the window in time to hear a 'thud' from the other side of the room.}
Steve: Oh what now...!?
He bolts across the room, hitting the door only to find that it won't open. It started small, tugging on the door, kicking it, bashing into it with his shoulder. Pushing or pulling seems to make no difference. He takes a few steps back to get a good running start, when he realizes a motor is whirling behind him, and the blackout curtain is slowly sliding across the window panes.}
Steve: You have to fucking be kidding me... Where are you, you son of a bitch!?
{He yells into the darkness. No answer comes, but the projector starts to work. On the reel, displayed in full color (albeit low quality) are all the people Steve hurt, or betrayed. Valets, Tag Partners, Friends. Some names and faces are easily recognizable, some are from far darker spots in Steves career, but with each passing moment Steves expression is just more and more twisted in horror. Messages start appearing.}
Do your feet hurt, from all the backs that you stepped on to get where you are?
Does your back ache from all the guilt you carry with you, every day, for years?
Do your SINS weight heavy?
{Followed by the same bird logo that has been haunting Steve for the last few weeks. Seeing this, he loses his mind, taking the projector and throwing it so hard at the window that despite the curtain it cracks the glass. He flips the table over, violently kicks chairs into the distance, tearing the screen down from the roll it hangs from. He stands amidst the carnage, the only sound his labored breathing and the bare light coming to illuminate his angry face. The door opens, and the lights turn on. The Staff is standing there, staring in shocked horror, holding a small pillow.}
Steve: Yes?
{Frozen moment of silence, her staring at him in horror, he staring back at her, the furious expression etched on his handsome face. She just drops the pillow, and turns tail, all but sprinting down the hallway. Steve exhales slowly, and simply walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.}
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There comes a time in every man's life where he has lost so much of what he needs, by chasing what he wants, that he starts to forget who he is. He starts to forget why he started on the path he's on. Why he took that first step into a world that he found so appealing. All I've ever wanted was to help people who lost their path, find it again.
It really just is that simple.
And it always has been. People label me all sorts of things. That I'm some sort of deviant who meddles into others affairs for nefarious purposes. That I want something else that I don't say because it's illegal, or immortal. But in reality I'm just one of the few people in this business who will tell you straight up how things are. You ask a question, you get the answer. Whether you believe that answer or not, is something that I cannot control.
But you not liking an answer doesn't make it less true.
I'm a fighter, always have been. But when the people I'm supposed to be fighting against are too interested in chasing women, or taking the short cut, then it ruins everything I've worked for. That's where you come in Steve, so much volatile power in you, and yet constantly there's some stupid little dangly thing that's distracting you, some monumental achievement you find the back alley deal to obtain.
And for what? Where's the satisfaction, the morning after?
Whatever you may think of me, or think how you feel about it. You can't stop it. And in the end, you'll thank me for this one, just as you did the last time.