Chapter Two: Return to the Game. Part one.
May 9, 2021 19:26:06 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 9, 2021 19:26:06 GMT -5
“When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. Where before there was anonymity, now there is intimacy; where before there was fear, now there is courage; where before in your life there was awkwardness, now there is a rhythm of grace and gracefulness; where before you used to be jagged, now you are elegant and in rhythm with your self. When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning.” - John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom
Once he stepped through the curtain, the realization of what he had just achieved started to set in, he allowed himself a brief smile through the pain. He had done it.
Despite the odds, he’d entered the tournament as a complete unknown and managed to, through timing, experience and circumstance, claim victory.
Already he could hear the detractors claiming it was Lady Luck herself that had led him here by the hand, but no. Though he’d admit that good fortune played a hand in the night’s events, the word luck implied he couldn’t do it again.
He kept walking through the ‘gorilla position’ and past the road agents and interviewers without so much as a glance. The championship slung over his shoulder in reverse as though he now carried a heavy load. NPW’s own Gus Arnold couldn’t even get a word, there was only one person he wanted to speak to. Alyssa.
She’d dragged him out of his self inflicted purgatory and now he found himself in the spotlight once again. What he wanted to know was, why?
Negotiating the twists and turns of the backstage area, he finally makes it to the safety of his dressing room.
What was Justice up to that they wanted him out of Atlanta? Whatever it was it had to be big, six months.
Collapsing onto a bench that ran the length of the wall, he breaths were slower and more controlled now. The sweat clung to him, chilling him to the bone if the thoughts of what ‘they’ could be planning weren’t enough.. A warm shower would do him wonders until he could truly be alone, plot his next move.
A knock came at the door before he could get too far into thought. Groaning, the adrenaline was starting to wear off, he makes his way across the room to open the door.
There he was, nose to chest with a barrel chested security guard in a black NPW polo. “Sorry to bother you but we got some crazed fan claiming she’s your fiancé, just say the word and I’ll get rid of her.”
Picturing, for a brief moment, Alyssa being thrown from the building; he laughed. “Ex-fiancé…and it’s fine, let her in.” He said turning his back on the towering man. “Thank you.”
Exiting more confused than when he arrived, the antithesis to Paul Blart moves aside leaving her to stand before him.
Even in a NPW t-shirt and plain jeans she was an absolute stunner, sometimes he cursed himself for how things had ended.
Ultimately, he’d left it in the ‘better off this way’ pile of his life’s decisions. Lately he’d wondered just how wise that decision had been. Leaving her alone had left her vulnerable and now he was indebted to ‘them’ because of her. He never should have gotten her tangled up in this game. Most never made it out alive.
Feeling her gaze upon him, he turns back towards the door just in time as Alyssa rushed into him hugging him despite the layer of sweat that had now absorbed into his ring gear. “Congratulations!” She seemed legitimately happy he’d won. “I knew you could do it!”
He pulled away from her as discreetly as he could. “Thank you.” He’d wait until she was completely comfortable with him again before he’d ask questions about what exactly she’d done to draw ‘their’ ire.
His gaze went over to his new prize. Noticing, she comments “That’s a pretty belt, looks like Gus spared no expense…” She trailed off before getting the courage to say what she truly wanted to say. “We should go eat. Why don’t you grab a shower and we’ll hit an all night spot I saw off the highway. It’ll be my treat…champ.”
He was skeptical of her sudden interest in him, especially where ‘they’ were involved. Justice could easily be using her to get to him, they already had been on some levels. He needed to be as cold as the white brick walls that lined his locker room. “Sure…ok.” He replied, gathering his shower supplies from his gym bag and heading off to get cleaned up.
Undressing, the warm water was a welcome sensation. Cascading down over each bump, bruise and pained muscle, its warm caress promised better days ahead.
This was merely the beginning of the road.
Once he stepped through the curtain, the realization of what he had just achieved started to set in, he allowed himself a brief smile through the pain. He had done it.
Despite the odds, he’d entered the tournament as a complete unknown and managed to, through timing, experience and circumstance, claim victory.
Already he could hear the detractors claiming it was Lady Luck herself that had led him here by the hand, but no. Though he’d admit that good fortune played a hand in the night’s events, the word luck implied he couldn’t do it again.
He kept walking through the ‘gorilla position’ and past the road agents and interviewers without so much as a glance. The championship slung over his shoulder in reverse as though he now carried a heavy load. NPW’s own Gus Arnold couldn’t even get a word, there was only one person he wanted to speak to. Alyssa.
She’d dragged him out of his self inflicted purgatory and now he found himself in the spotlight once again. What he wanted to know was, why?
Negotiating the twists and turns of the backstage area, he finally makes it to the safety of his dressing room.
What was Justice up to that they wanted him out of Atlanta? Whatever it was it had to be big, six months.
Collapsing onto a bench that ran the length of the wall, he breaths were slower and more controlled now. The sweat clung to him, chilling him to the bone if the thoughts of what ‘they’ could be planning weren’t enough.. A warm shower would do him wonders until he could truly be alone, plot his next move.
A knock came at the door before he could get too far into thought. Groaning, the adrenaline was starting to wear off, he makes his way across the room to open the door.
There he was, nose to chest with a barrel chested security guard in a black NPW polo. “Sorry to bother you but we got some crazed fan claiming she’s your fiancé, just say the word and I’ll get rid of her.”
Picturing, for a brief moment, Alyssa being thrown from the building; he laughed. “Ex-fiancé…and it’s fine, let her in.” He said turning his back on the towering man. “Thank you.”
Exiting more confused than when he arrived, the antithesis to Paul Blart moves aside leaving her to stand before him.
Even in a NPW t-shirt and plain jeans she was an absolute stunner, sometimes he cursed himself for how things had ended.
Ultimately, he’d left it in the ‘better off this way’ pile of his life’s decisions. Lately he’d wondered just how wise that decision had been. Leaving her alone had left her vulnerable and now he was indebted to ‘them’ because of her. He never should have gotten her tangled up in this game. Most never made it out alive.
Feeling her gaze upon him, he turns back towards the door just in time as Alyssa rushed into him hugging him despite the layer of sweat that had now absorbed into his ring gear. “Congratulations!” She seemed legitimately happy he’d won. “I knew you could do it!”
He pulled away from her as discreetly as he could. “Thank you.” He’d wait until she was completely comfortable with him again before he’d ask questions about what exactly she’d done to draw ‘their’ ire.
His gaze went over to his new prize. Noticing, she comments “That’s a pretty belt, looks like Gus spared no expense…” She trailed off before getting the courage to say what she truly wanted to say. “We should go eat. Why don’t you grab a shower and we’ll hit an all night spot I saw off the highway. It’ll be my treat…champ.”
He was skeptical of her sudden interest in him, especially where ‘they’ were involved. Justice could easily be using her to get to him, they already had been on some levels. He needed to be as cold as the white brick walls that lined his locker room. “Sure…ok.” He replied, gathering his shower supplies from his gym bag and heading off to get cleaned up.
Undressing, the warm water was a welcome sensation. Cascading down over each bump, bruise and pained muscle, its warm caress promised better days ahead.
This was merely the beginning of the road.