[DrakeGreen]

 TWO STEPS BACK


”Every man must do two things alone; he must do his own believing and his own dying. –Martin Luther

July 17th, 2014 – Starbuck’s Coffee – Flamingo Road; Las Vegas, NV – 1:30 PM

Phyllis: Drake, didn’t you hear me? You’re dying…

[Drake stares straight ahead, almost motionless, as he looks at his former stepmother Phyllis Green. He blinks once or twice before picking up his cigarette and taking another drag. He exhales out in to the open air and lets out a deep sigh.]

Phyllis: Drake-

[He cuts her off.]

Drake: Yeah, I heard you.

Phyllis: And you don’t have anything to say?

Drake: What do you want me to say? Thanks for letting me know I’m dying? Or how about thanks for letting me know I’ve been blaming Max for twenty years for my father’s death for no fucking reason at all? What the fuck, Phyllis?

Phyllis: I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you.

Drake: Jesus Christ…you know you can’t just walk in and out of my life and expect me to believe that you actually give a shit. I’m done with this conversation.

[Drake grabs his sunglasses and puts them on and takes one more drag of his cigarette. He flicks it off on to the curb and slides on his designer Lacoste shades as he stands up.]

Phyllis: Drake, wait-

Drake: Fuck you!

[Drake cuts her off in a stern voice, forcing a blank look on her face. He drops down a few dollar bills on the table as he picks up his black suit jacket and puts it on.]

Drake: Take care of yourself, Phyllis.

[He turns around and starts walking, leaving her sitting at the outdoor Starbucks table. He lets out a deep sigh of anger and frustration as he turns the corner. He walks along the street until he sees a small, hole in the wall style bar. He takes a quick look to his left and right, to make sure no one recognizes him, before ducking in the front door. The place looks like your everyday dive bar with neon beer sings hanging in the windows and posters of local Las Vegas bands hanging around on the walls. A large billiard table sits off to the right where two men are playing. Drake bee lines for the bar and takes a spot on a stool. He immediately raises his right hand for the bald headed bartender’s attention that comes over and greets him with smile.]

Bartender: What say ya?

Drake: Scotch, neat.

[The bartender’s smile fades at Drake’s curtness but nevertheless he makes the drink. Drake smiles with a ‘thank you’ under his breath as he accepts the glass. He turns around, still wearing his oversized sunglasses, and takes in the scenery. He notices a good looking young woman standing over by the pool table, watching the men play. A smile comes over his face as he looks over her long legs. He notices her high red heels and her short black skirt and his interest gets peaked. They make eye contact and exchange smiles as Drake takes off his designer shades. He motions her over and she gladly accepts, walking over to him one seductive step at a time.

A slight breeze blows the through bar that makes her dirty blonde flop a bit on her shoulders. Her overdone blue eye shadow hides her dark eyes and her bright red lipstick matches her cheap heels. She gets up to Drake and in a very cliché way asks him a question.]

Blonde: Got a light?

[She smiles as presses a Newport in between her lips, hoping that she’s assuming correctly. Drake pulls out a lighter and flicks on the flame in a very James Bond way. He sets the lighter down on the bar before engaging the blonde in conversation. He outstretches his arm as he introduces himself.]

Drake: My name’s Tom…Tom Seaver.

[He’s not sure why he lies but he gets a small thrill when he does. She reaches out and grabs his hand and lets out a bit of smoke as she smiles.]

Blonde: You can call me Gina.

[The two hold hands for just a moment before she slowly slips her hand out of his. He eyes her up and down one more time and when he looks up a rather large man is standing behind her.]

Man: Can I help you son?

[Drake stares up at the slightly older man. He’s wearing a plain brown hat with salt and pepper hair sneaking out from underneath it. His torn denim jeans compliment his dirt green polo. In his right hand sits a bottle of Budweiser and in his left, a pool cue.]

Drake: Actually, no. I think we’re ok. But I’ll let you know if we need anything.

[Drake condescendingly slaps the man on the shoulder and turns his attention back to the blonde girl.]

Man: I think you better leave, son.

Drake: There it is again…son. Is there something I can help you with?

Man: Yeah, there is.

[There’s a long pause while Drake waits for the man to elaborate.]

Drake: And that would be…?

Man: You could get the fuck out of here.

Blonde: Abe!

[The blonde girl turns around in defense of Drake.]

Blonde: Me and Tom were just talking here.

Man: I see what you’s were doing. I don’t like it.

Drake: Look-

[The man interrupts Drake by poking him in his chest with his pool cue.]

Man: I didn’t ask for your opinion asshole. I told you to get lost.

[Drake’s smile fades as he turns back to the bartender. He scoops up his glass of scotch and washes a bit down his throat He sets the glass down and lets out a small sigh.]

Man: What’s the matter boy, you deaf? I told you to-

[Mid-sentence, Drake turns around and snatches the pool cue out of the man’s hand.

THWAAAACK!

The man falls backwards and wobbles in to an empty table after Drake smacked him over the head with the pool cue so hard that it snapped in half. The blonde shrieks as she watches a bit of blood start to stream down his face. Drake drops the broken cue and then grabs the man by the shirt collar. He balls up his right fist and unleashes on the man, letting out all of his pent up frustration Punch after punch, he feels the weight of all of his world lift off of his shoulders.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

He pulls his the man in close and smiles at him before tossing him down to the tile floor. Drake turns around to see the few bar patrons staring at him with a both a bit of disbelief and a bit of horror on their faces. Drake turns back to the bar and finishes what is left of his scotch, setting the empty glass back on the marble bar top. He drops a few bucks in front of him before quietly picking up his Lacoste sunglasses and slipping them on over his nose. He turns back around, nods to the blonde who is staring at him in complete shock, and heads for the door; stepping over the fallen big man in the process. He pushes open the bar door and walks outside and as he gets to the curb he stops. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. As he exhales the first drag a large smile comes over his face just as the scene cuts out.]


”There are a lot of emotions running through my mind this week. Lots. For one, I am again the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Champion. Something I’ve yearned after for the last ten months and something I’ve dreamed about for a long, long time. I’ve earned my place back at the top of the world and I don’t plan on letting it go anytime soon. This time I’m not letting go, they’re gonna have to pry it out from my dead hands and that’s a promise. Second, I’m fucking pissed off. I’m pissed off at a lot people for a lot of reasons but the best place to start is my asshole of a step mother. On the eve of one of the most important battles of my life, one of the most important times of my life, she drops this shit on me. Now when I get back to Vegas after this mini tour I have spend whatever free time I have in a doctor’s office hoping that she’s just an idiot, that I’m not really dying. Great.”

“I’m pissed off that my neck hurts. Of course things weren’t made any better by that over grown cheap shotting prick Rage. If there’s one thing I hate in this world it’s people that don’t have the guts to hit me when I’m looking at them in the eyes. This is something that will have to be dealt with shortly. I don’t need second rate superstars running around and claiming a shot at my title. Especially losers like that.  This title deserves to be in the ring with real stars. Speaking of which…”

“I’ve never actually spoken to Equinox. I’ve followed his career a bit and he’s been gaining some incredible steam. The people in the crowd, my people, seem to love him and that’s good enough for me. I always love seeing new stars born and with the stranglehold that he has on the Roulette division at the moment, I’m glad I’ve got a chance to tag with him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure they guy is off of his rocker. I’m almost certain he’s a certifiable bag of nuts. I guess I’m just happy I have to team with him and not against him. He’s made a ton of strides in his short time in SCW and I’m exciting to have a front row seat and see what he can do on Sunday. It’ll be interesting at the very least.”

“I know nothing of Big B, like literally nothing. I know he was one of that asshole Nick Jones’ entourage and I know he made the right move in getting out of that pack and stepping out on his own, well sort of on his own. He’s made a nice name for himself in the tag division and he’s done fairly well since aligning himself with Despayre. He’s another one I’m looking forward to seeing close up and first hand. Despayre is probably the most under rated super star in all of Sin City Wrestling. He’s incredibly talented and knows his way around the ring when most others don’t. He’s a multi-time tag team champion who, in my opinion, deserves a hell of a lot more than what he’s rewarded with. I’ve been waiting for a long time to see him step out of the shadows and go on a well deserved singles run but it hasn’t happened yet. Maybe the bear is hold him back?”

“All three of my colleagues share something in common with me, we all care. We all want to put the best show on we possibly can for the fans. But the difference between me and them, and more specifically me and the Bosom Buddies…is I don’t associate with a cheating piece of shit like Rage. For all of the good that they stand for and for all of the good they can do they have one major flaw; judge of character. For the life of me I can’t comprehend or understand why they can associate with such a bottom feeder like Rage. The Seven Deadly Synns lost a lot of stock in my book when they allowed Rage to waltz back into their family. So, unfortunately, you’re all guilty by association. Every last one of you. It is now my personal mission to rid SCW of anything Rage and regrettably you two fall under that category. As long as Rage is running happily along side the two of you, you’re both a target…and pretty easy ones at that.”


August 7th, 2014 – Spago Restaurant; Beverly Hills, CA – 9:15 PM

The scene sets back in inside of the fancy Beverly Hills restaurant, Spago. Sitting on the terrace, the large brick walls give off a romantic feel as they glisten in the candlelight. Sitting at a table, directly in the middle of the terrace, are Drake and former SCW Bombshell Champion Misty. Drake is wearing a dark blue sport coat over a white shirt. In his breast pocket sits a matching white pocket square. He opted for the casual look this evening, wearing a set of ‘Toms’ and blue jeans. Misty, her pale skin glistening in the moonlight, wears a tight black dress with a purple ribbon across her waistline. She runs her finger around the rim of her wine glass, staring intently into the delicious looking glass of burgundy. She looks up to see Drake, with his scruffy face and bright green eyes, staring just as intently at her wine. Misty looks over to see Drake’s diet coke and she shuts her eyes.]

Misty: Shit.

Drake: What?

Misty: I forgot you weren’t drinking.

Drake: It’s ok, I’ve grown fond of diet coke.

[He winks at her and she fights off the smile she wants to instinctively give him in return.]

Misty: Look, I appreciate that you feel like you need to make something up to me but…what do you want? Why all of this?

Drake: What? Two friends can’t just have dinner and catch up?

Misty: Two friend can, yes. But not you and me, so what’s up?

[Drake stares at her for a moment, debating in side of his own head if he should tell her what Phyllis had come to Vegas a few weeks ago to tell him. He stares at her beautiful face and then shakes his head a bit.]

Drake: I just missed you.

[Misty lets out an annoyed chuckle.]

Misty: You know, I thought…

Drake: Thought what?

Misty: I don’t know. Nothing I guess.

Drake: It’s ok, you can say it.

Misty: I thought maybe you were going to you know…apologize.

Drake: Apologize for what?

Misty: Being a jerk maybe?

[Drake smiles.]

Drake: All right, fine.

[He takes a sip of his diet coke and sets his napkin down on the table.]

Drake: I’m sorry I was such an ass. Better?

Misty: It’s a start.

Drake: Seriously, though. I am sorry. It was really tough for me to get through that neck thing. You were there for me and I pushed you away, I’m sorry for that.

[Misty stares at him. She lets her dark eyes connect to his bright eyes and she can’t help but smile at him.]

Misty: What am I gonna do with you?

Drake: Well you could start by saying congratulation…I’m the Heavyweight Champion for God’s sake.

Misty: Where are my manners? Congrats, champ.

[She raises her wine glass to him and takes a drink as Drake follows suit with his diet coke.]

Misty: So what’s next on the Champion’s agenda? Big tag match coming up, no?

Drake: I guess.

Misty: You guess?

Drake: Yeah…I have other…people…on my mind.

Misty: Rage?

Drake: Yes, him.

Misty: What are you going to do?

[Drake stares straight ahead in Misty’s direction. He peers almost straight through her as he answers a bit monotone.]

Drake: I haven’t decided yet. It’ll happen and when it does it’ll be swift.

[He snaps out of it a bit.]

Drake: But I’m not here to talk about work.

[Misty leans in a bit and smiles a bit seductively.]

Drake: Well, then Mr. Green, tell me. Why are you here?

[Drake smiles back at her a bit. He peers around the restaurant and then something catches his eye that makes his grin grow wider. He stands up and grabs Misty by her hand and pulls her up.]

Drake: Follow me.

[He darts across the terrace with Misty in tow and they push through the doors and in to the busy restaurant. They walk over to the hallway near the coat closet and Drake stops short, letting a waiter walk boy. As he goes to turn around again, Misty grabs him by the arm and stops him in his tracks.]

Misty: What are you doing?

[Drake smiles at her with his green eyes and then in a quick motion, he pushes open the coat closet door and yanks her inside with him, closing the door behind them.]

Misty: Drake! Are you insane?!

Drake: Maybe.

[He smiles one more time before grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in close in a tight embrace. They kiss passionately for a moment before Misty pushes him back a bit.]

Misty: I can’t do this. I can’t keep doing this with you.

Drake: Doing what?

Misty: I know who you are, Drake. I know a lot more about you than you think. I’m not Tessa Flannigan ok? You can’t just shack up with me when it’s convenient for you. I’m a mother. I’m not some club hookup.

Drake: I know. I don’t want you to be some random anything.

Misty: Then what do you want?

Drake: You. All I want is you. I can’t promise you anything other than that. I don’t where I’m going with this but what I do know is that these past few weeks without you around have been fucking terrible.

[Misty lets out a laugh.]

Drake: I miss you and I want you here with me.

Misty: I don’t know, Drake.  You live in California and…

[Drake interrupts her.]

Drake: Not anymore. You were asking what I ‘bought’ this week…

Misty: Yeah…

Drake: I bought a condo in Vegas. I bought that condo for us. Maybe not right now but maybe…down the road we could…

[Misty grabs him mid-sentence and pulls him in for another passionate embrace. This time Drake doesn’t let her pull away as he slowly runs his hand up her back. He kiss her neck gently and he gently tugs on the zipper and pulls it down the a long the back of Misty’s dress. Her dress drops to the coat closet floor as the camera cuts to black.]