Author Topic: The Return  (Read 677 times)

Offline Kristopher Ryans

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The Return
« on: April 24, 2020, 11:59:52 PM »
 The knock at the door was not what Kris was expecting to hear. He had quarantined himself following being at Blaze of Glory, but not at the hotel that everyone seemed to be stuck at. It didn’t make sense to him to be staying around so many insane personalities when he could be just as alone at home just hours away. His family and friends were all stuck in Seattle and everyone in San Diego was supposed to be staying at home. It was actually beneficial for him, because it meant that people could not talk him out of his plan to return to the ring, especially at a time like this. Or at least, he had thought as much until he was interrupted first thing in the morning by the increasingly urgent sounding knocks on the door.

Kristopher Ryans: I’m coming! Calm down!

He yelled out as he pulled a shirt over his head. He was still half the length of the hallway from the front door, but he knew whoever was on the other side could hear him. Kris assumed shouting would cut off the pounding on the door, but he was wrong. It only made it worse. That could only mean one thing, and as Kris unlocked and pulled open the door, he knew that it would be someone from his inner circle. He had already prepared to really lay into whoever it was on the other side, but as the door started to swing open his uninvited guest beat him to the punch.

Coby Quik: Well it’s about damn time!

Coby Quik, one of the first students to ever come through the Jet City Sports Lab stood in the doorway in front of Kris. His voice had been loud and hostile for the sole purpose of deflating Kris before he could get on a run. It was something Coby had picked up from Kris throughout training. It was easy to get under people’s skin, but it took calculated effort to then deescalate the situation at the drop of a dime. The wide smile that spread across Coby’s face did that immediately though. Kris could not stay angry in the moment, and instead stepping out of his protege’s way so that he could enter the apartment.

Kristopher Ryans: I was wondering who they were going to send to try and talk me out of it...

Kris knew that the rest of Jet City was not just going to let him sign with SCW without at least trying to lure him back home. Both of the women of his house were whole-heartedly against his return. That was actually what had landed him in San Diego in the first place. Both of the Sweete twins made their appeal to him as he had been leaving, telling him he had a business at home to run. Chelsea Payne, who Kris had half-expected to be the one at the door, had called him almost daily to remind him of her injury at Summer XXXtreme years before in an attempt to scare him back home. He should have guessed that she would give up and send her husband to do her dirty work for her. Coby was always the one that got along with Kris the best. It made sense.

Coby Quik: Ohhhh no…. not at all. I watched Blaze of Glory.

As Coby steps through the doorway and into the apartment he pulls the strap of his bag from over his head but struggles and has to use most of his strength to toss it Kris’ direction. He was not expecting it, and has a hard time with it due to its size alone. Kris is forced to take a step back due to the force of it, and manages to wrangle it with both arms, stopping its momentum. Coby reaches down to roll the two suitcases in behind him, and rolls them to the side of the door. Kris crosses the room to put the duffle bag down on a table, eyeing the rest of Coby’s luggage as he does.

Kristopher Ryans: If you are not here to talk me out of going back, why are you here? And what is all of this shit?

Coby does not hesitate or attempt to hide his true intentions, offering the information willingly.

Coby Quik: You’re going back. I’m not dumb enough to try and change your mind. I am interested enough to come with you though.

It seemed like every time that Kris thought he knew what was going on, the rug was being ripped out from under his feet. This had to be some kind of trick. Nobody wanted to let Kris leave, and had actively campaigned against it. Why would they have turned around and let Coby run off when he had a wife and baby to take care of.

Kristopher Ryans: You’re coming to SCW?

Coby nods, but almost immediately tries to walk back the confirmation.

Coby Quik: Well kinda…. Yes I am going with you to SCW, but that is just to see if I can get my foot in the door of SCU. You’re going back. I am tired of sitting at home. It seemed like a win-win. They like you there. You can pitch them hiring me… or just get Mikah to put my name on a contract and get it in front of the right people. That seemed to work.

Kris knew that letting Mikah handle getting his contract for him would come back to bite him in the ass. It was bad enough that he had resorted to asking her for help, let alone that she did it at Blaze of Glory where everyone watching could clearly see what was transpiring.

Kristopher Ryans: First, Mikah is Mark’s assistant. Not sure he has anything to do with SCU. Second, Chelsea and the rest of the family is okay with all of this?

The question draws a laugh out of Coby that makes Kris feel stupid for even asking. Coby shakes his head, as he tries to compose himself.

Coby Quik: Nah, not at all. You are basically Jet City Public Enemy Numero Uno. Everyone but your brother thinks you are an idiot.

It made sense that only Jason was supportive. Kris’ half brother was the one that had showed him the messages from people in SCW discussing his comeback. Jason had been the one that pushed Kris to get back into society. If anything, everyone should be mad at him instead of Kris, but that was not a new problem. Everyone did, in fact, hate Kris. Always. No exceptions.

Kristopher Ryans: ....well and you. If you thought I was an idiot, you wouldn’t be here.

Just as he felt like he was starting to get his bearings, Coby turns on him.

Coby Quik: No, you’re definitely an idiot. Always have been. Every time you come back to this life you get yourself maimed and end up on the shelf for months at a time. You should stay retired. You have kids. You’re kind of getting old too.

Kris was with him right up until the end. He was not going to just let the age comment slide though.

Kristopher Ryans: I’m not too old to beat you.

The condescending half-smile on Coby’s face showed Kris just how much the kid’s ego had grown over the last couple of years.

Coby Quik: Not on your fastest day, and that ain’t today.

Kris lets out an over-the-top gasp, and tries to take his offense to a comedic level to throw a veil over the fact that the dig actually got under his skin a little.

Kristopher Ryans: That’s harsh.

Coby shrugs his shoulders, unafraid to say the tough things when they need to be said.

Coby Quik: Nah, that’s what’s up.

Kris was starting to realize that this must be what it is like for others to try and have a conversation with him. After almost four years, Coby was just as good at poking at Kris as Kris was at doing it to others. Instead of continuing down that path, Kris tries to steer the conversation back to something productive.

Kristopher Ryans: So how did you manage to get away?

Coby smiles. It was mildly satisfying to have beaten Kris at his own game. He makes his way across the room, not immediately answering the question, and plops down on the couch. He looks around the apartment for a few moments.

Coby Quik: This place is not s--

Kris was done with the sidetracking though.

Kristopher Ryans: Coby!

It was enough to wipe the smile off of Coby’s face and get him to take the conversation more seriously.

Coby Quik: Alright, so after you left, Heather and Kali got everyone together to try and come up with a way to talk you out of it.

Kris had already heard about this through the daily rants that Chelsea subjected him to. However, it had been more than six weeks since Kris made his way to San Diego. It didn’t explain why Coby was sitting on his couch today, and Kris did not have the patience for the slow walk to the point.

Kristopher Ryans: Yeah. I’ve talked to your wife. Nobody cared enough to want to come stop me. Everyone decided to just be angry. They all have kids now. I am an adult and can make my own decisions. Even if I am a selfish asshole for doing so. They should have expected it by now.

He tried his best to try and speed through Coby’s story because he had things to do, and every minute he was pointlessly stuck here was time wasted.

Coby Quik: ...but Chelsea’s daily guilt trip was not working, so we watched Blaze of Glory to see if you were going to pop up. She saw Mikah with that contract and knew it was yours, so she came up with a new plan. She told me to come back here and to change your mind, even if it took a little while to do.

It was all starting to make a little more sense now. Regaining some of his confidence, Kris tries his hand at filling in some of the blanks.

Kristopher Ryans: ...and you decided to use that as an excuse to sign your own contract and hang around?

Coby nodded, leaning back against the couch and making himself comfortable.

Coby Quik: Like I said, I am not dumb enough to think that I can change your mind. I also don’t intend to spend all my time doing nothing. I was already thinking about making a return when the time made sense. Looks like I have some extra time on my hands now.

It seemed awfully hypocritical for Coby to have shamed Kris for his past injuries, and also be seriously thinking about trying to make a return of his own.

Kristopher Ryans: Correct me if I am wrong, didn’t you get the whole side of your face broken last time you were in the ring?

Coby winces. Coby reaches up to his cheek and runs his fingers along the scars that were still slightly visible in spite of his doctor’s best efforts to eliminate them. He corrects his friend though.

Coby Quik: That wasn’t the last time, but yeah. I’ve seen my share of injuries. That’s why, personally, I know you will be fine no matter what. I also know that it has to be pretty important to you even though you won’t admit it. You are giving up home life for this. Not everyone is going to understand that is a real sacrifice for you.

It was true. Of course, most people would hate being away from their family for any extended period of time. For Kris though, time on his own usually meant a slip back into old habits, and old habits usually meant a spot back in rehab and a whole lot of damage done to himself and others.

Kristopher Ryans: Well now that you’re here there is no need for them to worry anymore.

Coby appears to agree with him, but knows that their window of opportunity is not going to last forever.

Coby Quik: I mean, not until Jason and the Sweete’s figure out that all of the older Jet City Sports Lab equipment from storage is gone….

It was Kris’ turn to have a wide smile spread across his face. He had been certain that there was no way that anyone would even go to check during the lockdown. Kris was not going to just tip his hand though if Coby had not put it all together yet.

Kristopher Ryans: I have no idea what you’re talking about….

Coby took a page out of Kris’ book with a over-dramatic fake gasp, and look of offense on his face.

Coby Quik: I can’t believe you would lie to my face like that!

Little did Kris know, Coby had already been through the bottom floor of the building. Before he had ever brought his bags up the stairs, or started to beat on the door, he had made his way into what used to be the laundromat downstairs. Jason had bought it years ago, but this was the first time that Coby had not seen it open and filled with people. The windows had been covered, and all of the signwork was gone. It was enough to interest Coby enough to pop open the storage window and find Kris’ secret.

Coby Quik: Are you going to try and open it back up, or is it just for you…? Well… us now.

Beneath their feet, Coby had found the laundromat had been converted in the time that Kris had spent in exile. The space was smaller than the old building in Seattle, but Kris had arranged everything to make proper use of the space. It had not taken Coby long to realize it either. Kris had arranged everything exactly the same as it had been. The Jet City Sports Lab was ready and waiting for them. Kris has to admit defeat. Coby had come prepared.

Kristopher Ryans: There’s no getting rid of you, is there?

Coby shakes his head.

Coby Quik: Not even at all. You can blame it on the stubbornness I learned from you.

It was not the solitude that he thought he would have, but Kris could not really complain about having someone around to make sure that he was physically ready to get back into the ring and was capable of pushing him harder to do so. It was like Coby said, a win-win, but they were wasting time.

Kristopher Ryans: Let’s go then, kid. See that speed you were bragging about?

Coby sits back up, surprised that Kris was that willing to let him stay. He had expected more resistance, or at least a little bit of time to get himself together before they got started.

Coby Quik: What? Now?

Kris was already on his way out the door though, not waiting for Coby to attempt to argue with him.

Kristopher Ryans: I have a match to get ready for, rookie!

It had been a long time since Coby had heard that particular jab. It was a good feeling though. Like things were getting back to normal. He gets up and races across the room, following Kris down to the lab.



============================
People are wondering why I am back...

The feed opens on Kris in his signature red hoodie, walking along the same back alleyway behind his apartments that he had in his early SCW days.

I mean after all, I have already done everything in this company. I have held the SCW World Heavyweight Championship, and defended it against Crimson in one of the most violent main events that this company ever saw. I still carry the scars from it...

He points to his still not normal looking ear. Crimson had taken a piece of it in their battles, and he had never gotten it fixed as a way of remembering how off the rails things could get.

I broke records with the Roulette Championship that people thought were never going to be touched. I came back from being a punchline. I atoned for the mistakes of my early career. I rose from the ashes and became a person that was synonymous with the face of this company.

His meteoric rise the last time around was a clear source of pride for the former champion, more so than his endeavors into other companies.

Of course, the early parts were not without successes of their own. The Internet Championship took too long to win, and I didn’t hold onto it nearly as long as I wanted, but that kind of shit happens. You can’t win them all. Even if you help put together a team like The Nobodies, you just put a target on your back that leads everyone down a path to ruin you.

Kris leaves out the fact that he was the very reason for his own undoing early in his career. It did not fit his narrative to blame himself, and was besides the point. Everyone knew about his struggles. That was not what this was about.

...but you can’t really ever get things done around here without some people in your corner. I was the one that pushed for the mixed tag division to be a thing after Mikah and I were so dominant in our respective divisions. The Black Sheep were running the show here last time that I was around, and we were in contention for every single championship the company had at one point.

He kicks at a bottle on the ground in front of him and sends it flying down the alley and out of the view of the camera. He appears to be enjoying himself listing off his accomplishments. After all, he was his favorite subject to discuss.

...and all of that without even talking about how Jet City showed up on the scene and saved tag team wrestling in this company at a time when nobody even wanted to stand up and challenge for the titles.

I have fought wars throughout every arena that this company has been to. I have headlined international tours for Sin City. I have held every single championship, and some more than once. I set records. My birthday bashes and the madness that Jet City caused in the back created the kind of buzz that the owners only ever dreamed of. Kris was SCW, and SCW was Kris.

So why come back? Why now? It has been almost two years, and there is nothing that I could do now that I haven’t already done. This should be my time to ride off into the sunset and celebrate a job well done. I should be enjoying retirement while the people in this company throw around my name as one of the best to ever walk down the ramp. I should be mentioned alongside people like J2H, Sean Jackson, and Drake Green.

That is not the way that SCW remembers me though. Not at all. Not even close.

I am a Grand Slam Champion in this company, and even my return bills me as a Triple Crown. People make lists and debate the best of the best and my name is not even an honorable mention. How many other Grand Slam Champions in this company have someone found themselves on the outside of the Hall of Fame? How many of them show up as a surprise and get blown off by people that haven’t even started to rise to my level?

Alicia Lukas hadn’t even gotten started in this company when I left. Yet somehow, her career here, and her return to the fold has garnered so much more attention than me, someone who has done it all and stood in the ring with most of the greats that this company ever had the opportunity to sign. She gets the red carpet rolled out for her, a main event, and a date with a Hall of Famer for her return. What do I get? Ignored by a guy that I helped bring to Sin City, and a match with a guy that got smashed by Senor Vinnie at Blaze of Glory.

Last time I came back, I came back to rectify my own mistakes. I came back to do right by the people who gave me a platform and an opportunity that I pissed away. I came back to show people that I wasn’t just a flash-in-the-pan fuck up that the company would have been better without. Not only did I accomplish that goal, but I went above and beyond what everyone thought that I could accomplish. I earned my place in history, without a doubt.

Now I am supposed to sit at home and watch people forget about that history? I am supposed to be okay with being forgotten, or at the very least misremembered. I was supposed to stay retired and watch as everyone in this company moved on and celebrated people that would have gotten steamrolled by my ascent to the top of the company. I don’t think so. Fuck that. I fought to take what was mine once already, and I have no problem coming back to give everyone a refresher course.

Whether it is Griffin Hawkins, who apparently thinks that it is cool to break my records and then walk past me like I am invisible, or Bill Barnhart and his stupid dog, or whoever they put across a ring from me from here on out, I have one goal.

I am going to remind this company and everyone in it why I was able to bend it to my will for so long. If that means chasing after the Roulette Championship and rebreaking the records that should still be mine, or maybe even reminding Ben Jordan that I was the one that threw him a bone back when I was the champion and everyone was saying that he deserved better, then I am going to do it. Maybe I will find myself a partner and take over the mixed tag division like Mikah and I were well on our way to doing before Crimson came along and pulled my attention elsewhere. Maybe I go and have a more convincing run with the Internet Championship….

...or maybe I say screw all of the flashy championships and just wreck any and all people that want to come after my place in history.

To be honest, the people that come back talking about wanting to carry around the championships are too shortsighted. I can see the allure, but I have also lived through the last two years and seen that they don’t matter. People forget too quickly. They can’t even be bothered to remember who takes home the awards at the end of the year, let alone an individual championship.

My goal is to take back my spot near the top of this company’s history. My goal is the one thing that the powers that be have managed to keep me away from. If people want to know why I am back, or what I am doing here, it’s basically that simple. I am going to show up, do what I do, and keep stacking the resume until they finally let me into the Hall of Fame like I deserve.

I guess Bill is the first roadblock to that becoming a reality. I suppose that I should maybe even be a little intimidated by the guy. After all, I have not been in a ring for almost two years, and this dude has been running around here for a while. At the very least, maybe I am out-conditioned. Maybe I am a little rustier than I am willing to admit. Maybe I just don’t have it like I used to. I mean, the last few years of taking beatings do take a toll. Every single member of the Jet City Sports Lab has tried to talk me out of coming back just based on how many serious injuries I have taken in this line of work. Maybe they are right? Who knows what will happen the first time I try to take to the air? Do I even have the stamina to put on a match for the ages anymore?

I mean I probably shouldn’t worry about being too old to do this when I will be standing across from a guy that is six years older than me. I might not have to worry about stamina when I am running circles around a guy carrying an extra fifty pounds around the ring. I guess there could be some concerns about the fact that this guy is going to tower over me, even if that grants me the ability to duck and weave around him more easily. I even put a target on my own back by being the person most hyped about my return. I guess he could end up squashing my opportunity to get what is mine. After all, I am but a humble Grand Slam Champion. I am no match for someone who has accomplished things like being a number one contender for the Roulette Championship like six months ago.

If we want to talk about some fears on a serious note though, nobody appreciates a large, hairy southerner sweating on them. Nobody enjoys robust mouth-breathers panting like a dog, and struggling to keep up an entertaining pace during a match. I can’t just underestimate someone that says that he is going to destroy people, only to get pinned in the middle of the ring after a DDT performed by a guy that was nearly unconscious. I need to take this just as seriously as I would if my opponent was actually impressive in any way, shape, or form. I need to carry the same edge into this match that I had when Crimson literally tried to stab me in the middle of the ring. I can’t let all these totally legitimate fears hold me back. I am going to have to do my best to summon the courage to push ahead.

...but sarcasm, jokes, and a correcting of the historical record aside, I am excited for this. I am ready to get back into the ring. I am anxious to get things moving. I know that the fans are not going to be there to see it in person, but maybe that is for the best. At least they won’t be within sweating distance of the monster of girth I have to somehow manage to take down, so call it a silver lining.

He gets to the end of the alleyway and stops as the camera rotates around him, and stops when he is in the center of the frame.

Don’t worry though, I will still provide some highlights. I will still be giving all of you something to talk about for weeks, months, and years to come. There will be a point where the world opens back up, and I will still be out there competing in that six sided ring for experience it in person again. I am not going anywhere until I get what I want, and I have a feeling that nobody is going to hand it over on a silver platter. I am going to have to take it. Again.

A smirk crosses his lips, and the words he thought he would never say again immediately come to mind.

It’s a pure miracle that a nobody like me gets a chance to say this again… but I’m back…. so...

It was right then that he realized he was really going to love being back.

.... someone go ahead and call an ambulance. Bill Barnhart is about to have an ACCIDENT!


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