Post by FINN WHELAN on Jul 26, 2022 23:53:23 GMT -5
EXPECT NOTHING LESS [1]
NIGHT OF CHAMPIONS
••••••
The lights of New York City were vibrant. There were enough people galavanting about with their photos and their tourist-like actions that he could have disappeared seamlessly and fallen into the crowds without nary a second glance. It wasn’t like his sibling, who had stood at the top of this Empire. But it was exactly like he expected. Like he was. He’d always been the type to come in silently, make productive statements that made sense, and then move forward like he was a man on a mission.
It wasn’t too long ago that he’d done that here. That he’d taken apart a man who all thought was the best thing in the business. That he’d defeated one of the entire network’s best. Once upon a time, he did it. And now? Now could he do it again? It was a question he didn’t need to ask himself. It was a question that he didn’t need to vacillate on, commiserate with others, be interested in what others had to say. He knew what he wanted to do. Knew what he could do. Now everything else just needed to fall in line.
The groundwork had been laid the moment he signed his name. He wished arduously that he’d had more laid in his path to this moment. This night. Keahi Sparks had tried, gloriously, to fell him that evening of Ascendancy. She fought her best, she fought valiantly, but in the end, it hadn’t been anything but a foregone conclusion the moment the match was signed. He was named the #1 Contender to the Championship he’d lost so long ago in his return match to Next Level.
It sounded too good to be true, didn’t it?
He leaned against the outside balcony railing as he looked over Central Park. A fortune had been spent on the entire floor, but that’s what a good lawyer and a divorce seemed to get for the heartache and frustration he’d gone through just a couple of years before. He wore a polo shirt, one with the Wolfslair logo emblazoned on it, and he held a small bottle, likely a fifth, in his hand.
Long ago, he’d felled the drunk of the company. It wasn’t like he was going to become that now, though wouldn’t that be ironic?
“Re-establish a legacy…” he muttered to himself, looking at the passersby ten floors below him as if they were merely but ants with a mission of their own. “The words of a man who would be considered a legend in the XHF…”
His voice seemed far away, but he turned his head a moment later, glancing behind him so that he could face the viewer somewhat.
“The same words I spoke when I came back into this business. The desire to prove themselves, the desire to be that fighting spirit that doesn’t surrender, doesn’t fail. Relentless in all that they do, and battle until there’s no breath left. The very same. When the questions arise, wondering if you can still do it, if you can rise to the occasion, if you can make every person who doubted you eat their words, it’s a trick to the psyche to fight for yourself harder and harder.”
He turns fully, leaning against the balcony railing with one arm, raising an eyebrow.
“I did it once. I came back from a hiatus, a supposed retirement, a falling out of love with the business. I rose to prominence once more in this company. I became the champion because there was a slip-up, a miscalculation, maybe too many beers before the match, or an entire failure to underestimate the determination that I have. The desire, the need to push the envelope further and further. Seth Dillinger did this.”
Finn inclines his head forward with a smile.
“Seth Dillinger walked out of a hellacious match at Hostile Intent with names that have rendered the entire XHF Industry their bitches and he walked out with a championship that this company has only seen a few champions of. One of those champions is me. A history that I hold in my hand, a history that I walked away from because I wasn’t interested enough. I know that’s on me…”
He looks up for a second, as if envisioning the lights on him at the Lakefront Arena once more. Lights he’d missed. Lights he’d taken for granted at one point and time.
“But I’m home now. I’m back. And I think I’ve made it clear exactly what I’ve come in for. The NLW Heavyweight Championship had been something I needed at the time, because I too needed to prove myself. That seems to be the battle that we always face, right? Constantly proving ourselves over and over in a battle of wits and war just so the next person can come in challenge your effort, your skill, your desire…”
Finn looks forward, turning his body completely towards the viewer in order to face down the man of the hour. At least, figuratively.
“I get it. I’m just that person in a long line of people who have done that to you, Seth. But I suspect you knew that was what was to be expected coming from someone like me. I’m going to question you, just as much as you question me. But trust me, after your performance at Hostile Intent?”
A smile rises up on his face.
“I’m looking forward to this fight. I’m looking forward to Night of Champions, because on that night, I have the opportunity to do the same thing to you that I did to Dylan Black nearly a year ago when he came for that same strap. I can make an example out of you, show everyone that the world can change in a blink of an eye. I won’t underestimate you, but I absolutely will ensure that when the time arises, I know exactly how to put you in the ground.
You can expect nothing less.”
