[Inner Monologue]
I can remember the exact moment that I started thinking about making a comeback to SCW. Well, to say SCW would be a lie. It was more like coming back to the ring in general. It was that slight tingle at the thought of being in the ring. A lot of people say that it is the fans that bring them back. People think what wrestlers want is the spotlight on their faces and people to know their name. I was never like that. Sure, those things are a bonus, but wrestling, for me, has always just been about filling a void. Until recently, I had convinced myself that I had filled that void.
Again, I say recently, but I can tell you the exact time and date. It was this past Christmas Eve at exactly 2:14 in the afternoon in L.A. I was sitting at my desk just staring at my phone after a conversation I had with my mother. We aren’t necessarily close. The words she said to me, it made me look at that void I had always felt within myself. I realized that I had only tricked myself into thinking I had filled it up, but that was a lie.
So what is it that the little brother of a fairly well known wrestling personality do when there is nothing else? What do you do when you realize when you realize that the family you thought you have doesn’t care about you? What do you do when the girl that was supposed to be your finance doesn’t have a clue how to relate to you? Let’s face it. Somebody like me? Everyone has money on turning to drugs. Why shouldn’t they? I say to hell with that though. I am going to fill this void fighting, and that’s what started this comeback… fighting.
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[Flashback January Ten Twenty-Fifteen]
Jason's black ZR1 whips around the corner, off the residential street that the house sits off of. He stops at the gate, thinking to himself that they don't particularly even need it anymore, and punches in the four digit code. It starts to slide open, and that is when his little brother decides to chime in.
Kris: You know, I never pictured you as the "gated community" type. I mean, the beach side loft, the little shitty apartment in Atlanta, that's you. This....
Jason shakes his head and steps on the gas as the gate pulls all the way open. The car follows the driveway up to the garage, but instead of pulling in Jason turns with the cul-de-sac style turnaround and points the Corvette back towards the gate before killing the engine. He reached flips up the center console and presses a button on the little remote within, opening the garage door. He sighs.
Jason: I married into all this. You know me, I am happy living in a dump. There is only one flashy amenity that I need.
He pats the steering wheel of the car. Kris knew he had a thing for them. Between the ZR1 and the Skyline back in Atlanta, his brother had spent enough money on cars as most people did a house.
Kris: I am counting down the days until you buy a new one. Maybe I can finally get one of them thrown my way. At least then I would get to drive it.
His older brother laughs heartily.
Jason: Would you trust a heroin addict behind the wheel of a hundred thousand dollar car?
He gives Kris a doubtful look, but realizes his mistake as the younger Halich shrugs.
Jason: Never mind. Of course you would. You're out of your mind.
Both of them open their respective doors, Jason getting out more quickly, not hearing Kris muttering under his breath.
Kris: It runs in the family....
Their doors close almost in unison. Jason looks around the driveway, his eyes darting back and forth, contemplating whether or not he should open his mouth. Kris comes around the front of the car, seeing the expression on his brother's face.
Kris: Ah, fuck. What is it? Just spill it instead of standing there looking like an ass clown.
The older brother isn't surprised by Kris' sarcastic attitude. It was one of those things that he never lost, despite the situations or struggles he went through. He wasn't the worrying type.
Jason: I was kind of waiting to mention any of it until everything was official, but since you're here and Gabby is here, I guess you are probably going to find out today anyways.
Kris feigns a surprised look and brings his hands to his mouth.
Kris: Oh my god you knocked up your underage step-daughter. You are sick. And Elena hasn't thrown you out?
Jason shakes his head and starts walk in towards the garage with Kris following at his side.
Jason: You're a troubled individual. You know that?
Kris laughs as they get to the opened garage door.
Kris: Well if that isn't it, what is it?
Jason nods, shrugging his shoulders.
Jason: I guess it isn't too big of a deal. Gabby talked to Elena and they both decided it was ok, so she asked me to adopt her. She's going to be my daughter.. you know legally.
Kris turns around to face his brother, having continued towards the door when his brother stopped to spill the news. The words stop Kris in his tracks.
Kris: You're doing what?
That sarcastic and carefree tone evaporated from his voice. His eyes sharpened as his brow furrowed.
Jason: [confused] I'm adopting her. I mean, she is 17. It won't mean much. Now that her father is gone though--
Kris: [interrupting] Yeah! He's fucking gone alright.
Jason: What? How do you even--
Kris: [interrupting again] If it doesn't mean then why do it? Huh? Give me a reason. You've been here, what? Two months? And you are seriously even considering this?
Jason takes a step towards his little brother, reaching out and patting him on the shoulder as he tries to move by, seemingly oblivious to his brother's level of irritation.
Jason: Its nothing. Really.
Kris' lips press together hard and he shoves his brother backwards with both hands. Jason is thrown off balance, having to take a few steps back to avoid falling over.
Kris: Don't pat me like a fucking dog and then blow me off. What are you thinking? This is what you want?
Jason seems more confused by the second, clearly not thinking this was how the conversation was going to go.
Jason: What's the big deal dude? It doesn't change anything. Family is family, right?
Jason takes a few steps forward towards the house again but Kris shoves him again, harder this time. Jason, somewhat prepared for it doesn't fall back nearly as far this time.
Kris: No. Family is blood. Family is you and me. Is this your way of trying to replace Emily? Or Linds--
This time it is the older brother that issues a shove. Kris wasn't braced for the ferocity that was going to come from mentioning Jason's deceased daughter, or their sister.
Jason: I don't know what your problem is, but this conversation is over.
Jason again tries to walk past Kris, but this time is met with a closed left hand, aimed for his jaw. Jason catches the fist in the palm of his right hand and stops its momentum.
Kris: I'm not done talking.
Kris swings his right hand, and Jason raises his left arm in response, guarding his face and taking the punch to the ribs instead. However, he lowers his arm and traps Kris' against his ribcage.
Jason: Calm down.
The younger of the two responds with a headbutt to his brother's mouth, freeing himself and busting Jason's lip open. Jason steps backwards and turns away, walking out into the driveway, away from the garage and raising a hand to his mouth.
Kris: Why are you walking away? Scared? You don't want to hear what I have to say?
Jason nods his head and raises his hand out to Kris, waving for him to come on.
Jason: You got something to say, say it. Don't dance around it like a bitch. Man up for once in your life.
Kris shakes his head and charges his brother, who raises his arms, fists closed, ready for him this time.
Kris: You care about this family more than you do your own, don't you? Youre trading up to something worthwhile, eh?
Kris swings wildly with his right hand, but Jason steps to the side. The momentum of the missed blow sends Kris forward and he is stopped from face planting into the driveway by Jason wrapping his arm around his neck and pulling his head into his ribcage in a sort of front facelock.
Jason: That's what you think? I am replacing the girls with Gabby?
He sounded like he had confidence in his answer. Kris' reply shattered that illusion.
Kris: Fuck the girls, Jason!
Kris sent his free left hand into his brother's kidney with all the force he could muster. It creates space between them, enough for Kris to shove his elder away. Jason rocks back on his heels but stays balanced enough not to fall. His confusion is at an all time high though.
Jason: I don't even know what we are fighting about then Kris.
Jason holds up his hands, breathing heavily.
Kris: Eighteen years Jason! Eighteen fucking years I stayed in that house. I was twelve when you dropped out and started working. You know how many nights he came him and I was the only one there? What do you think that got me?
Jason still looked confused.
Jason: What does that have to do with anything Kris? We got out! Look at where we are!
He holds up his hands, gesturing to their surroundings. He takes a few steps forward cautiously.
Kris: Look at me Jason... the past ten years of my life haven't been better than the first fifteen. You got out of that house. I have never left....
Jason hears the defeat in his brother's voice. He closes the gap between them, seeing a tear fall from his brother's face to the pavement as he looks down.
Jason: We don't have to deal with that anymore. It's over.
Kris looks up with bloodshot eyes but there is still rage in them. He pushes Jason away, but its less than a shove.
Kris: Stay away from me.... go adopt your new daughter... she's the one you want.
Jason is still dumbfounded. He takes another step forward with a concerned look on his face. Kris only lashes out though.
Kris: I told you to stay away from me.
Jason doesn't have time to block the closed fist that pummels him in the right eye. He backs up, disoriented, and raises his hands only for Kris to send a stiff shot to his stomach. When Jason's hands instinctively lower, Kris screams out and unleashes shot after shot at Jason's eye until it cuts open and he falls down to his knees. Kris stops when his brother falls and steps away shaking the blood off his hand before brushing at his eyes.
Kris: You just don't get it do you? Or do you just not care about me?
Jason leans back and looks up at his brother.
Jason: Of course I care about you...
Kris doesn't like that answer. The charges back in and this time kicks Jason in the stomach, doubling him over onto all fours. He gasps for air as Kris paces around again.
Kris: I mean if you loved me then maybe this thought would have crossed your mind back then. You had the job. You could pay all the bills. We could have left. We were self-sufficient anyways....
Jason finally pieced together the reason Kris had snapped. He felt stupid. How could he have missed it? He should have known straight off. He should have known years ago.
Jason: You're jealous of her....
This isn't the response Kris particularly wanted to hear either. He turns around and punts Jason in the stomach, flipping him over onto his back. Jason laughs, it's mostly masked by choking sounds of his lungs not filling.
Jason: You could have asked me about it if it was on your mind. You know I would have done it. You were all I h--
Kris had heard enough. As Jason turns back over and starts to get on his hands and knees, Kris charges in a final time, punting Jason this time in the head dropping him lifelessly flat down on the pavement. He shakes his head before bending down and reaching into his brother's pocket, and removing his keys.
Kris: If I was all you had you wouldn't have needed me to ask.
He stands up moving away and towards the car. Jason manages to turn his head towards the car as Kris opens the driver's side door.
Kris: You know where I live. You can come get your car later. I'm not going to impede on your happy rich family.
Jason has trouble pushing himself off the ground as Kris starts the car, revs the engine into the red before dropping it into gear. The tires spin and smoke, squealing loudly as the car shoots down the driveway, only slowing a bit to let the gate open just wide enough to fit through.
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The scene opens with Kris sitting in front of the camera. The room is dark, tinted so that his face is almost just an outline, almost. However, through the dim lighting the viewers can see a slight smirk on his face.
There is a tide in the affairs of men...
He pauses, long enough to allow anyone watching to search their minds, trying to pick out the source of the quotation. Their mind wandering is cut off though, as he starts to speak again.
Every person is born with a certain natural flow within them. We are all pulled in different directions by things that we haven’t the slightest idea about. My favorite color is green. Where did that come from? Why is it relevant? You’ll see a lot of people come into this business that say that they were born to do this. You will hear the same promo over and over again, dozens and dozens of times. How many of these people actually mean it? Who knows? I don’t care. My point, is that I am not one of these people. The things that have pulled my attention are things that the company would probably get really mad if I sat here and went on about. That is not important. What is important is that people that think they were born for it, come to it naturally. They build their whole lives towards it. It shapes their lives. It is what they want to do night in and night out. That is not who I was when I started in this company. That is not who I have been in the years before then. That is not the person that I am now. I do not eat, drink and breathe this business. That is probably why months ago, I lost my way and disappeared from this roster. For people born to be here, moving towards the ring and the spotlight is a natural thing. For me, it is an uphill battle.
He shrugs his shoulders, discarding that thought. He clearly didn’t care to dwell on it. Instead, he clears this throat.
This tide, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
The smirk grows wider across his face as he can almost feel the viewers still trying to place the quotation.
These people, kind of like Old Skool, follow their own personal tide towards their goal, and have landed themselves here where they seem to perfectly fit. I saw him come out in front of the crowd. I watched him rile people up by just showing up. The crowd went nuts when they realized who it was that was stepping out from behind that curtain. He was feeding off of them. They were feeding off him. You can tell when a person has gone every moment of every day looking forward to something, you can tell when that pays off. That guy looks like he loves it in there. Compare those notes to my return. Same night. Same arena. Same time. We couldn’t have been further apart in the minds of anyone watching the show.
He shakes his head and brings his hands, fingers interlocked, up to his mouth, covering something that looks like irritation. He closes his eyes and just rolls his shoulders, getting rid of that thought in order to move on.
This tide, if omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.
The familiar words again come out of his mouth, and even seem to put him a little at ease.
If denied the opportunity to get to this level of competition, what would happen to these people? If they never got their fifteen minutes in the spotlight, would they be able to look at themselves in the mirror? When you see someone go to that ring and come alive, you have wonder exactly how they feel when they aren’t there in front of a camera. Maybe that is why most of the people in all of these huge companies spend most of their lives tweeting every thought they have, original or otherwise. Some people, like what I saw from Old Skool last week, thrive in front of cameras and need that recognition from the fans. He literally screams at them to holler at him. He steps into the ring and not only demands attention, but demands that they verbally validate his entire existence. I don’t mean to sound condescending. I am not insulting Old Skool, or anyone like him. See, when that natural tide within yourself is propelling you towards this business, and you finally get here, it is a beautiful thing. It is a beautiful thing that not everyone gets to feel. There are people like me that show up here because it is what they are good at. People like me that show up against the way that the tide is pushing them in order to attempt to fill a hole within themselves with something comparable to what they really want. I don’t want you to pity me though. If anyone deserves your pity it is the people not like me. The thing that those people, those ones that live and breathe, with every ounce of their being, this business… the thing that they don’t realize is that they have nothing..
He snaps his fingers and the dim light goes out, cutting the screen to black, but the video keeps rolling.
... they have nothing when the cameras are off. They have nothing when the days of traveling are behind them. They have nothing when something takes this away. I pity them because everyone in the world knows that every second you live is one you cannot get back. Everyone’s time is slowly running out. Being in an industry like this, your time in the spotlight fades pretty fast, and then you have a life of darkness ahead.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
Here is hoping that I am not the reason Old Skool loses his venture. That light in his face when he spoke to the world last week…. I hope it doesn’t go out when I win the match. That would be a tragedy not unlike that of Julius Caesar.
As the feed finally cuts off, the fans get their answer, act four, scene three. Who would have thought when the video started that they would hear an addict quote Shakespeare.
