PARADIGM SHIFT XXXII // DREAMS
ALL YOUR DREAMS ARE OVER NOW; AND ALL YOUR DREAMS HAVE FALLEN DOWN. AND MAYBE I’M THE FOOL BUT I THINK WE’D FIND THAT IF WE COULD ALL BE SO KIND IF YOU JUST LEAVE YOUR TREAD MILL POWERTRIP BEHIND. AND MAYBE IT’S BEST THAT YOU’RE SO BLIND BECAUSE YOUR HEART CAN’T GRIEVE WHAT YOUR EYES WON’T SEE.
TV ON THE RADIO .
••••••
Memories oftentimes turned into catalysts for broken glasses flung across rooms in angry outbursts. Some people were not equipped efficiently with the ability to process these thoughts, and there often came a time where they were dealt with or they were stuffed down into a thousand cavernous spaces called a brain, never to be dredged up again.
If anything, Finn Whelan did the latter of those two options, preferring to stuff everything down and never deal with it again. Especially the things that hurt him, the things that kept him up at night, those he pushed as far into the depths of his psyche that they were under lock and key, never to be seen again. Many of those items involved his blood relative, Elena DeDraca, his ex-wife, Aaron Asphyxia, and the death of his twins. The most hurtful, though, was the loss of his niece, Isabella.
While everything new was repairing his soul, he couldn’t help but feel like the shoe had finally dropped and there was nothing but animosity in his future.
As it snowed shimmering bits of ice across the mountain range and the land that he’d purchased, blanketing everything in a blinding white, Finn looked out the window from the kitchen window, a mug of steaming coffee within his hands.
Unca Finn. Isabella had been a precocious child, smarter than most her age. She loved her uncle, always searching him out when he wasn’t at another wrestling company. But she never could pronounce the “l” in calling him the right name. And she never called him by his real name. At the time, he hadn’t particularly cared, but as he thought about it down the line, it stemmed from Elena never quite accepting him for who he was. His sister and he had repaired their relationship time and time again just because they had always been the best of friends, but for a long while, he wondered if that was really what it was, or if it had all been just a need for control in her life.
Every person he grew close to, his sister hated. Every person that gave him the time of day, that praised him, that said that he was the next up-and-coming thing, she despised. She never trusted a damn soul, and her love was falsity that she used to prey upon the next unfortunate soul stupid enough to crawl into her cobwebs and think she cared. He should have known that from their relationship in the beginning: her, an orphaned misfit who thought her pride was a saving grace, and he, a kid who simply didn’t fit into the family in which he was born.
He hadn’t thought about Elena in years, but this match coming up was a reminder of his past. A reminder of what once was. He’d suspected a long time ago that Elena was in love with Alexander Jones. And to be perfectly honest, he didn’t give a shit. At least, not at first.
Alex was simply a wrestler at the time who trained with Elena. His sister talked and talked about him whenever he was able to sit down with her. They didn’t know they were siblings at the time, and they’d fallen apart from one another for nearly eight years due to their lives. But he didn’t care about Alex – as long as he made Elena happy, he was fine. He’d always protected her when she wasn’t doing well.
But then, the talking wasn’t just about him. It seemed like Elena wasn’t just talking about Alex to Finn like a gossipy, happy little girl who had a crush. No, it seemed Elena was talking to Alex about Finn, and he wasn’t quite sure it was complimentary. The few times that he’d seen Alex in the gym, the man simply glared and said nothing to him. He brushed it off, and then Alex was gone, and poor little Elena was heartbroken.
So Finn decided he didn’t like him. He didn’t like him when he faced him at Honor Wrestling, he didn’t like him when he saw him at World Wrestling Headquarters, and even when he stepped into the Wolfslair Domain, he still did not give a flying fuck what Alex Jones wanted or cared about. In fact, it was quite the little jab that Sonja had even reached out to Finn, and Finn said yes just to see him squirm.
To have to face him again…well, it was the name of the game. Finn was old enough and wise enough now to realize that Alex wasn’t the enemy. No. He may be the competition, but he was never the enemy – but still, that didn’t mean he liked him by any means. Alex was a pompous jackass, and that would never change. But they worked for the good of Wolfslair.
“How are you holding up?” The voice on the speaker of his phone finally said to him. It was Sonja, checking in for the third time this week. With Finn taking on the leadership of the Wolfslair: Denver gym and trying to get it off the ground for midwest wrestlers who wanted to be signed, Sonja called often.
“I’m fine.” Finn said cordially.
Fine. The Yakuza was held together by his leadership, the Romani were still on their backdoor, and now his whore of an ex-wife was showing her face. Sure. Fine was relative, right?
“Good, because there is another shipment coming in. Are you going to be able to be there? I believe it’s the leg press machine, but there’s so many different orders on this file that it could be anything.” Sonja babbled on, unaware of Finn’s sour mood. “Also, you’ve got a couple of contractors that want to work out of the gym if possible. One of them is for Kallie, specifically. Aaron requested it.”
Finn glanced down at his phone, only registering the end of it. He held his breath, and he attempted some form of calm before he tried to respond to Sonja professionally. “No.”
“I don’t really get to say yes or no here, Finn. It’s Alex that signs off on all of this.”
Finn looked up at the snow again with an annoyed flutter of his eyes. Of course. Just one more way to needle her in to his life. “I’ll have a conversation with him after Inception.”
“Your funeral.”
“You know, I don’t even know why we hired Aaron, to be perfectly honest. Can’t she just be fired at this point? Kallie isn’t wrestling, she’s mommy-ing, and to be fair, the next person she takes on in the gym she’s probably just going to be extremely inappropriate with.”
Extremely inappropriate.
That was a way of putting it.
••••••
We all have dreams. Aspirations. Impossible things you reach for with every inch of power that you have. You shoot high for the ceiling, and grow disappointed with failure. Again and again, round and round, until you just begin to grow complacent -- okay with the place you’ve been given in the world. You never aspire to do anything greater with your life, deciding to put yourself into a sealed box you can’t ever get out of . . . or maybe you don’t want to at all.
I opened one of these things with this statement eight years ago. Eight long, arduous years ago. As I sit here now, wisened up a bit in that span of time, I believe that I actually can probably change that statement. We truly do have dreams, and we have aspirations, but neither are they impossible, nor are they the same. I used to think that they were. I used to think they were the exact damn thing, but in reality, I was wrong. And it’s with wisdom now that I can tell the difference.
Dreams are certainly something that you desire. But they’re not only what you can aspire to be. You see, I always that you look at your aspirations as dreams, but really…dreams are the things you desire most in the world that are so unattainable. I didn’t dream that I would become a multi-time champion, that I would hold this championship for almost a year, and that people would hate me with everything in them because I keep continuing to prove them wrong every step of the way.
I aspired to greatness, and I attained it. The name Finn Whelan might be synonymous with some of you chucklefucks as the word morose, but it is also simply a record breaker that even your best monsters haven’t figured out how to topple. You look at the annals and see out of the thirty four people that have held this championship, there is only one that has a record longer than mine. One that has done more than me. One out of everyone who calls themselves the greatest.
Funny how all of you told me that I wouldn’t be worth shit the second I came back. And it’s funnier how half of you refuse to say my name, like it’s a disease.
I didn’t dream of this. I made it my reality.
Every single one of you that have faced me has turned me into the thing you hate. Not simply because I’m good at my job but because of jealousy. Friendships have been shattered, hopes destroyed, and each one of you who calls me a monster simply puts your own fear into the mix. I always wonder which one of you is going to sit there and proclaim that I believe I’m a false god, or who is going to come out of the woodwork like a snake that loves to sing? Betrayal hits, but I’m no longer a trusting individual. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice – you wouldn’t get the chance.
So when Alex Jones worked himself out of the trenches to come up and face me for this thing, I suppose I just simply wasn’t surprised. I knew this was coming the moment that he returned, and the moment that I stepped into SCW. Anyone can face anyone, and it doesn’t matter if you’re in the same faction – everyone ultimately wants golden blood.
The unfortunate piece is that I’m not willing to shed it. Not just yet, and not for him.
There is a significant history that is present when it comes to myself and Alex Jones. We’ve known each other for years, but in all that time, we’ve faced twice. As I said at Climax Control, we’re one-for-one. There was a time he faced me and beat me for a championship. And there was a time I took a championship from him. But where we’ve always disagreed wasn’t just in the ring. No. Our past is personal more than it is professional.
I can respect a person for the fighter that they are. As I will always say, I’m not going to sit there and put down a person just because I’m facing them, As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, I hold a modicum of respect for Jones in a way I respect those who have come before me, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t one of the people I want to prove I can contend, handle, and defeat. For nothing more than my own sanity.
There was once a time where we could have been called brothers, and been under the umbrella of “family”. Family is never particularly just who is related by blood, but the people you choose. Sometimes, they prove to be a better support in the end. You never turn your back on them. Never.
Unless they turn their back on you.
I guess we both know what’s that’s like, right?
I’m not one to let personal affect me. Miles Kasey made it personal, and I beat him professionally while removing him from my life personally. I can put up walls like you wouldn’t believe. And in that moment, Alex chose me over Miles. Because he knew what weight I carried for the whole of Wolfslair.
What weight I still carry for Wolfslair and SCW.
I would say that I’m sorry that people are afraid to face me. I would say that I’m sorry that people won’t come in and test the waters, but in all reality, that’s their own fucking fault. This company is one of the greatest across time, and while some people don’t like the whole lack of intergender thing, I could have more competition. Something that would bring me joy.
Instead, I get…Alex.
Two time SCW World Heavyweight Champion, one time Roulette Champion, one time mixed-tag titles champion. Hall of Famer.
I suppose I should be grateful. And believe me, I am – because eventually the seas will dry up and I’ll have to repeat the same contestants over and over again. But now? Now that I have this man in front of me as not a partner of our gym, but as my competitor?
I’m back to seeing the same things that I did years ago. A man who has learned slightly that I’m not to be trifled with, but you’re still trying to trifle over and over again with. I haven’t quite let go of the fact that you called me a washed-up emo kid all those years ago, but let’s look at you and question how hunters don’t confuse you with Bigfoot considering the amount of hair on your chest. I shouldn’t liken you to Cousin It, but you know.
Oh come on. This is all in good fun, right? Because now we respect each other, right? You stay out of my business and I stay out of yours and we live happily ever after.
Right?
In all seriousness, Alex, I’m looking forward to this match. I’m hoping that it will be the challenge that I’ve needed for a while. Oh, Eddie Lyons was a challenge and I appreciate his candor. I appreciate the fact that you didn’t come at me like a little bitch either. But let’s make this clear…
In that ring, we’re not partners. We’re not friends. We don’t exist with one another. We aren’t enemies either, but we are competitors. I’m not about to just let you have this championship, and you’re not about to just let me win. I get that. We have a job to do.
I want you to remember that I’m not just that kid that took the Wildcard Championship from you so you could move onto better things. I want you to remember that I have always ever done my best. Look up above us…see the sky, the stars, the moon and the ether of the galaxy? That’s my ceiling. That’s always been my ceiling. I don’t stop, I don’t quit, and I certainly don’t shy away from the challenge. You know who I am, and who I’ve become – you’ve seen it first hand. Every time that we’ve met, we’ve gone harder and harder, and it was packed with more fire than it was before.
I’m the fucking nightmare that you’ve hated since day one.
As an individual person, I respect you. I know who you are, what you’ve done, your accolades. I know who you are. But when we step into the ring on Sunday, it’s going to be a match of the night contender. Ever since I discovered it was you, I’ve calibrated and thought about how I want this to go.
You think that it’s time for a championship in your hands. A third time. A time for everything.
I disagree.
I don’t believe that this is an option for you at this time. And maybe one day, one day when I’ve lost this belt, you can try again and get what you want. But Sunday? Nah. That person is me.
It will always be me.
Don’t test me, Alex.
You won’t like the result.
