10 April 2015
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Milan, Italy
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Off-Camera
[Inner Thoughts]
Amy was not lying in the least when she tweeted that
she kicked my ass in the gym today. She hits as hard as a guy that is
three times her size, and has a zero moral compass when it comes to
someone like me asking her to hurt me. Maybe I reached out to her the
other day because, in the back of my head, I already knew this. Maybe it
was just that she was really the only thing close to a friend that I had
in SCW. It seems like the rest of everyone on the roster, and now even
the interviewers, have written me off already. I couldn't get a word in
after Delia cut my interview off. I did not even get a simple "Sorry
Kris, I have to go. Good luck in your match!" from Stoner, even though
he has been the one guy in the back I have talked to for every single
interview, on every Climax Control, since I started in this company.
As he steps off of the elevator, he looks around. From hotel
to hotel, country after country, he could never remember which way his
room was. In all honesty, he never really spent any time in them
anyways. It was a place for sleeping, nothing else. Being stuck in a
room day after day, and minute after minute, seemed like a waste when
they were visiting places on this world tour that he had never been to,
and probably would not get to see again. He looks down at the room
keycard in his hand and nods, then looks up at the sign in front of him
to make sure he is on the right floor before turning in the direction of
his room. For some reason, he always got stuck at the end of the
hallway. He was nearly always on the opposite end of the ice machine and
vending machines, and about as far away from the central hallway
elevators as he could possibly be. It was just his luck that this was no
different, even in Italy.
To be honest, for the first few weeks, it didn't even
bother me. I mean, I went into that Roulette Championship match billing
myself as an unknown. I told everyone that it was going to be to my
advantage to do so. Unfortunately, I was terribly wrong in that
assumption. What made it worse was being put through that damn dumpster.
Is there a more embarassing way to lose a match? I mean really. That is
why I needed Amy this time around. Aside from all the flirtation, that
is in no way mild, she knew this business better than anyone. She knows
what it means to hold a title, and has done so. I am pretty sure she has
won most of them in SCW, but I don't know. I haven't been around long
enough to pick up on all of the history, and studying it for curiosity
would just be a waste of time when I could take a train and see things
that I have only seen in the textbooks from high school. Fucking high
school man, that feels like forever ago. Seven years... and where did
they go?
He shakes the thought out of his head as he reaches his door
at the end of the hallway. He turns the key card over in his hand before
figuring out the way it slides into the door. He does so and the light
flashes red a few seconds before it goes green and the lock clicks open.
The door isn't even fully closed behind him before he reaches down for
the bottom edge of his shirt and pulls it off, despite every muscle in
his body straining and telling him not to.
This soreness will heal up before the match. Amy had
really followed through with what she promised. I threw every move that
I have in my arsenal at her. We planned through every circumstance in
which I would use any move that I typically do in a match, and I had her
counter every single one of them. I told her what was coming, and I told
her to not hold back when it came to stopping me from doing it. The
bruises? Those will stick around. I guess I should be thankful that I
wear those long , form-fitting shirts in my matches to hide the track
marks. It will help to mask the bruises so that they don't become
targets for this Internet Champion to wail on as soon as the bell rings.
There was a point to this kind of training that I couldn't get from
scouting, watching matches, or watching this guy's promos. Doing all of
that will help me beat him, but will not help me beat myself. It is all
about improvement. It is all about knowing what it is I am going to try
in the match, and knowing the feeling that it is going to go wrong. It
is not about being able to take a punch, or a kick, or some technical
move. I can take a beating pretty well, I learned that before I was even
seven. I can get up from those beatings. What I can't do, is see my
errors before I make them. That is what Amy did for me today. For every
step I made, she showed me how someone would counter.... and by show me,
I mean put me on my ass in the middle of the ring, holding whatever body
part she targeted as the pain flowed through my body. How many times
did she knock the breath out of me? I wouldn't dare try to count. How
many times did she make me tap out? More than I will ever admit to
anyone. How much did I grow as a competitor? I guess that I will have to
wait and see on Sunday.
He moves across the room and tosses his shirt on the couch.
There was a weird quiet in the room. Normally Clarissa was there with
him, but she had other obligations. When your interviewing job keeps you
in the states, your clients are left to their own devices in a foreign
country. Sure, she would call him an hour or so before the show. She
would hit him with the pep talk she thinks he needs. At the end of the
day though, she isn't here so it didn't matter. He wasn't going to dwell
on it for a second. He kicks off his training shoes, putting them in
front of the couch and moving towards the bathroom.
If I walk into that match and I lose, who knows when
the next title shot comes around? Someone in management is clearly
paying attention to me, or else I wouldn't have gotten two title shots
within a month of each other. That, at the very least, means that
someone in the company is paying attention, and liking what they see.
Does that voice drown out the rest of the others in my head? Absolutely
not. Is that going to make the roster take notice of me? Probably not. I
know that most of the roster probably doesn't sit in front of a computer
screen and watch everyone else's promos every week. I didn't used to,
but I did for the last couple shows. Something that Krissy said before
facing Roxi the third time has stuck with me since. She said winning the
Internet Championship is a career death sentence. Now, I am in this
match, and I am torn. On one hand, I have failed twice in this company
when gold was on the line, and once in another company. I want nothing
more than to break that curse and get that voice in the back of my head
to shut up when it tells me that I will choke every time. One the other
hand, maybe it would actually hinder me if I did win. I haven't been
able to shake that thought, no matter how hard I have tried. Will people
think of me as a mediocre champion, if I win it? Is that any better than
people not thinking about me at all? If I had to ask a random person on
the street if they would rather be faceless in a crowd, or seen as below
average, what would they say? I haven't found the answer myself. Maybe
someone can find it for me.
He looks in the bathroom mirror, taking inventory of the
bruises on his back. They were already going from the puffy red swelling
from first contact, to ever-darkening circles. The one on his left side,
from when he had spring-boarded off the middle rope, looking for a
roundhouse kick, but being speared out of the air by a woman a little
under half his side was already a shade of green, well on its way to
purple. There were only three days before the show. Was that enough time
for it to stop being sensitive? Maybe so. Maybe not. He turns around,
and reaches behind the curtain of the shower, turning the dial until the
water that poured from the faucet was lukewarm. A cold shower sounded
painful. A warm shower felt like it would just make the swelling worse.
He drops his work-out shorts, checking a second mark on the back of his
right thigh. He had set up for the SmackShot and taken down hard knees
to the back of his leg. Coming off a full forward rotation, the blow had
put him on his back and broken one of the straps of his knee brace.
Before removing his boxers to get in, he noticed the lack of towels in
the vicinity. Italy hotels were silly like that, or at least this one
appeared to be. They were in the bedroom closet. He exits the bathroom,
leaving the shower running, and tosses his shorts onto the couch next to
his shirt.
Faceless or not, it is going to be a huge setback if I
lose this match. I am not going to be dumb enough to tell them that this
time in my promo this time. I went in doubtful and then when I lost,
they all had a reason to laugh. I am done with that shit. If I lose, I
am going to lose after ripping a guy to shreds. That makes sense, right?
Here I am, beaten and bruised from trying make sure I can tear him to
shreds inside a ring. Why would I give him the benefit of not doing that
to him if he actually watches my little promo video. Sure, those things
are mainly for the fans. I doubt most of the roster pays them any mind.
However, if this guy is dumb enough to watch it, I want that little
nugget of doubt to creep into his head. I used to think that I didn't
care about the mental game. Maybe I only care a little now because my
skill inside a ring hasn't been up to par. This week, I am going to
change that, even if that is the only thing that I manage to do.
He turns from the couch with a smile. Even if they were just
his own words in his head, that nobody would ever hear, he felt better
talking himself through it. It is a short distance from the small living
area to the bedroom, and he pushes the door open. It is only then that
he realizes that he hasn't been alone in the room the whole time, as he
had thought. He hadn't been alone at all.
JASON HALICH:I was starting to think that
maybe they let me into the wrong room.
Jason was sitting back on the bed. His hands were folded
across his lap, with his legs up on the bed as he leaned against the
headboard. There was that smug smile on his face that seemed to always
appear when he was getting the better of someone. Kris couldn't have
been able to recreate his own reaction. The shock of his brother being
there, in a foreign country no less, caught him completely off guard.
For a few moments he stutters over words, before remembering their last
exchange. At once Kris' face grows dark. The smile fades from his face.
The thoughts that he had been walking himself through since he entered
the room where now the furthest thing from his mind.
KRISTOPHER HALICH: What are you doing in
Milan? Better yet, don't you have a family to be taking care of back in
Los Angeles? I told you more than once already, we aren't friends, we
aren't brothers. Get out of my room.
Jason's expression doesn't change. It was like he had
already walked through this conversation in his head before Kris even
arrived. The younger Halich's words don't catch him by surprise, or
offend him at all. His voice comes out just as smug as his expression.
JASON HALICH: I am pretty sure that a DNA
test would say that we are brothers, as for friends, we are a lot more
than that. I get that you are pissed right now, but you will come
around, you always do. I just wanted to see how you were holding up. You
were kind of being a little bitch last time we talked. You're going into
a title match now, I figured I would make sure your mind was right.
Kris rolls his eyes and moves to the closet. He pulls it
open, trying to mask the aggression that was flowing through him. He
reaches up to the top shelf and grabs a towel, before shutting the door
gently. He leans back against the door once it is closed, but doesn't
give his brother the benefit of looking at him.
KRISTOPHER HALICH: I'm fine. More than
fine, even. I am great. I am fucking ecstatic. I am a real ball of
amazing, Jason. Now get out. That flight back to LA will be a killer.
Jason holds up his hands in front of his chest, palms facing
Kris. It is a plea of innocence. Of course, Kris knew it meant that he
didn't want to fight.
JASON HALICH: Listen Kris, honestly, I
wanted to come and apologize. You won't return a text, or answer a
phone. I didn't want the apology to fall on deaf ears either. You
deserved for me to come here and talk to you, even if you don't want to
talk to me. So if you listen, and let me say what I have to say, I will
get out of your way, and get back on my flight to Los Angeles tonight.
It is worth two days of flying to be able to tell you this to your face.
Kris shakes his head. The knuckles on his right hand go
white with how hard he grips the towel. If he was going to try and keep
his emotions off of his face, he was going to need to take it out on
something. Luckily for the towel, it didn't have feelings.
KRISTOPHER HALICH: Alright then Jason, say
what you have to say. You have five minutes.
JASON HALICH: That is more than enough, as
long as you don't turn this into a screaming match. If you act like a
bitch, then you are going to have to allow me some more time.
Kris would blame Jason's asshole sense of humor on the fact
that he had made a great life for himself. He would like to say that his
dick attitude came after all of the successes of his adult life.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Jason had learned sarcasm around
the time that Kris started to be able to vividly remember things as a
child. Jason had always been like this. If anything, he had lightened up
over time.
KRISTOPHER HALICH: By my count, you just
wasted about thirty seconds of your five minutes,and you still have yet
to get to a point worth listening to.
It was odd. Kris didn't realize that the same tone that
Jason just used to irritate him, just came out of his own mouth. It was
the same kind of sarcastic jab. He almost despised himself because of
it.
JASON HALICH: Point taken. I won't
bullshit you then. You have no right to be mad about Elena, or any of
her kids, or my adopting Gabby. It is childish. You are an adult. What
do you want me to do, adopt you now? That ship as sailed Kris. Would it
have worked back when it was just me and you in San Diego? Maybe. I
don't think that a judge would have granted an eighteen year old kid
full custody of a thirteen year old. At best, they would have opened a
child abuse case, and they would have sent you to some orphanage. We had
absentee parents. We had a home that was just above being condemned that
was filled with more empty beer bottles than it was items of food. They
would have sent you away if we tried to do anything about the situation.
Would that have really helped anything? In that house, after a while,
and yeah, there were a few years that it got really bad, but by the time
you were fifteen or sixteen, it was more or less just the two of us in
that house. You weren't my kid legally, but I have always thought of you
as a shit load more important than just a brother. I know that,
somewhere inside that thick head of yours, you know that.
Kris had to turn his head to look away now. Averting his
eyes wasn't going to be enough to keep the emotion off of his face. He
turned away, simply to hide his face, and when he tried to form words,
he had to stop because he knew they weren't going to come out as cool
and collected as he wanted them to. He wouldn't be able to just blow
that off. Everything that he knew, but had pushed to the back of his
head suddenly flooded over all of the irrational bullshit, and hatred,
that he created in the last few months. Jason hesitated for a few
moments, but then the realization set in that Kris wasn't going to
respond to him. He sighs heavily, and pulls his legs off of the bed, now
looking at the floor. The sarcastic tone in his voice fades and is
replaced by one of genuine sorrow.
JASON HALICH: I fucked up Kris. I should
have told you the minute that I knew Elena was pregnant. Honestly, we
were keeping it quiet, and still haven't mentioned it to anyone other
than immediately family, in case she loses it. It was a way of
protecting her, not cutting you out. That isn't an excuse though. Elena
told Amari on the same day, and if I had to guess, she was the one that
told you. You are the only one that would really understand her feelings
on that. I mean, I am sure you two kind of felt the same about it. I saw
the way that she trashed Elena's office after she got the news. I have
been scared to mention it because I had no idea what you would do.
He pauses, and shakes his head in disappointment. Kris turns
just far enough to be able to see it out of the corner of his eye. If he
had any doubts about his brother's sincerity, they washed away when he
saw that gesture. Although, he still couldn't find the words to say what
it was that he felt he needed to say, and Jason didn't look like he was
finished yet either. If Kris were to cut him off now, he may never know
what else he had to say. They did not have moments like these often. In
fact, Kris could count them on one hand.
JASON HALICH: Look, Kris, we already had
so many problems. You were already pissed about the adoption. You were
pissed that Elena and I got married so quickly. You thought I was moving
on without you. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that it
isn't true, I can't change the way you feel. That is up to you to do.
Jason brushes off his pants and then stands up from the bed.
He walks over to Kris and puts a hand on his shoulder. That is really
the only time that Kris becomes self-conscious about the track marks on
his arms. It was this kind of closeness that he had been conditioned to
be terrified of.
JASON HALICH: The only thing that I can do
is apologize for all of it. I take responsibility for everything. I
changed my whole life around, and you were practically treated like any
other person in the world that doesn't know me. I didn't talk to you, so
it was like you were anyone on my roster. I treated you like I knew your
name, but didn't give a damn about you personally. I'm sorry little
brother. You deserved better. You have every reason to be pissed off
because I treated you like that. When I came to you last week, I hadn't
stopped to think about it from your perspective. I came at you angry. I
didn't try to understand you.
Kris holds back his words. Anything that he had to say right
now would be clouded. If he said that he wasn't angry anymore, it would
be a lie. If he said that it was alright, it might not be once he has
time to stew about it when Jason was gone. The way he felt in this
moment was not going to be indicative of how he would feel after he had
time to process everything. He wanted nothing more than to hug his
brother and say that none of it mattered, but he didn't want to wish he
could take it back later. So, instead, he said nothing. He bit his
bottom lip for a moment and then nodded. He tries as hard as he can to
muster some of the sarcasm in his voice from earlier.
KRISTOPHER HALICH: Good Jason. Great. By my
count though, your five minutes is up. I have a shower to take and
people to meet for dinner. If you don't mind.
Jason nods, and pulls his hand back. Kris motions towards
the door for him to go, and Jason doesn't hesitate to start moving
towards it. Most of Kris' brain was telling him to stop his brother and
just bury the buillshit, but he was never good at listening to that part
of himself. He was always one to listen to the little devil on his
shoulder. It was part of the reason he titled himself as the,
"Professional Addict Fuck-Up" on Twitter. He follows his brother out of
the room, and the two make their way through the small living area. As
Jason reaches the door, he does turn to Kris, who is heading into the
bathroom.
JASON HALICH: Don't overthink this match,
Kris. I have no business butting in, but I want you to know that I have
been paying attention to your matches. I even when as far as to look at
his. If you let all this outside bullshit fall off your shoulders for
the fifteen or so minutes in between those bells, then there is no way
that you don't walk out with your first title. When you do, and I mean
the exact moment you do, I will be sending you a text message
congratulating you. What I won't say then, is what I am going to say
now, I am damn proud of you, win or lose. Good luck. Make sure our last
name walks out a champion.
Kris raises his head to meet his brother's eyes, but says
nothing. He offers a small smile and a nod, which was more than Jason
had expected. He returns the smile before stepping out of the door and
closing the door gently behind himself. Kris stood there for a second,
just trying to wrap his head around the whole conversation while he
listened to the water running in the bathroom. For a few moments he
stood there before a worried look crossed his face and he ducks into the
bathroom, hoping there is some kind of warmness left in the water.
=======================================================================
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11 April 2015
======================
Milan, Italy 4:45 AM
======================
On-Camera: Back Alleys
The video opens as usual. Buildings pass by on Kris' right
side as the camera follows him from the left. The only thing different,
despite the cool air, is the lack of the hoodie that he typically buries
his arms into the pockets of, and hides his face in. He hadn't really
considered it when he told the cameraman it was time to roll, but now
that the video was rolling, he couldn't help but think it made him look
more open.
"Normally I do these things and I talk my opponent up a
little bit. That is something that you don't really see a lot from a guy
like me. I am not someone that is particularly liked. I am not the kind
of guy that plays on your feelings. I don't care if you respect what I
say, or if you don't. I can't make up your mind for you. However, back
to the point, I am not going to be talking up Kain, the current SCW
Internet Champion. Now, if you are actually paying attention to the
words that are coming out of my mouth, you are undoubtedly asking, "Why
is that, Kris?" and understandably so. To put it simply, the people that
have come before me in the ring, normally speak to their strengths. If
they have been doing nothing but winning, they talk about being
unbeaten. If it is someone that is a veteran, the talk about how much
their experience will give them an edge. When I stepped up against the
current Roulette Champion, he told me that I could not win because I
really didn't know what it takes to win a championship. All of things,
even what Alex said about me, are true. They are factual. I cannot bring
myself in front of all of you to dispute something that is fact. Yes,
people that are undefeated for a reason, it is because nobody has been
able to figure them out in the ring, and that is impressive for those
that have been at it for months at a time. Yes, most of the people on
this roster are ten times as experienced than I am in this business.
Yes, Alex, you were absolutely right. I have no idea what it feels like
to win a championship. Every time that I have tried to win a title, I
have fallen short. I do not know what it is like to hold a belt up,
knowing that it is mine. All of these things have been said to me since
I came to SCW. All of these things are true. From what I have seen from
Kain, I have zero reasons to talk him up."
Kris rounds a corner, out of the alley and onto one of the
main roads. As he moves past a building, two individuals sitting on a
ledge just above the sidewalk jump down, onto the sidewalk behind Kris
and start to walk behind him.
"Kain you call yourself the King of Kings. You step up and
rant and rave at a videocamera, but you do nothing. You don't move
around, you don't make gestures to prove your point. You are a man alone
in a room talking to himself. What exactly makes you a King of Kings?
Honestly, in watching your matches, in listening to your long and, and I
don't mean this as an insult but a statement of fact, boring promos, I
cannot come up with one thing that you are a king of. I guess an
argument can be made that you are the king of the Internet, but I bet
there are tens of millions of people that would let you know just how
stupid that claim is. That makes you no king. The fact that you think
you are a king OF kings is even more laughable. I want you to think
about the Roulette Championship, the tag team championships, or even the
SCW Championship. Are you, as the Internet Champion, the king of all of
those kingdoms? In short, absolutely not. As far as I am concerned, and
Krissy Flip said it to Roxi after she won the same title you hold, but
for the bombshells, you are a champion of those viewed as the bottom
rung. Your title does not have history. Your title does not hold
prestiege. At least not at this point. You are not a king of kings. You
are not even just a regular king. You are an idiot, standing in front of
a camera, boring the life out of anyone that wastes their ten
minutes."
Kris passes another building. Outside of the door leading inside are three men. They see the camera, and the man walking next to it and join them, walking behind the previous two. The camera moves forward a little on Kris' side, showing the five men now following him, with their hoods of their sweatshirts up over their heads, shading their faces.
"Hopefully, and I say hopefully because I would hate to know that thousands of others wished they had their ten minutes back after watching your promos, not many people actually pay you any attention. After all, people on this roster don't know who I am, and yet here I am with my second title shot. I guess I am hoping, for their sake, that you are equally ignored. On the other hand, I did mention that I watched them. When I did, a few things stuck out to me. One of the things you said in your last match was that a champion, and more specifically you, should be someone that people look up to. People should see you holding that belt above your head and think to themselves that they want to grow up and be like you. For those that are older than you, you would have them think back on their lives and wish they could alter their path in order to have been like you. You want to be a rolemodel and in saying that about yourself, you undermine what it is to be that kind of person. You put yourself on a pedestal. You talk down to everyone around you. You think that you are better, and that people should mold themselves around you. I am sorry to tell you, but that is something that other people have to say about you. You don't get to raise yourself up to that level just because your inflated ego."
Again the group pass a building. This time there are five men standing at the entrance, and as the growing flock behind Kris moves, they blend into the pack. Moments later, while Kris finds his words, another group of five joins him, and then two more.
[clolor=yellow]"The other thing that I noticed was that you said the internet, and therefore their champion, is something that is "fresh, new and original" each time you look at it. In looking at your body of work, I don't see any of those things. You rehash the exact same lines each time you talk. You speak alone in front of a camera instead of being out in this world. There is nothing fresh about you. As the weeks go by, there is less and less original about you as well. As far as I can tell, the only thing that I can agree with you on, is that the Internet Champion should be new."[/color]
The group of individuals moves into an open square at the end of the street. As the camera turns, the viewers can see dozens of people waiting, all dressed with similar sweatshirts with hoods over their heads, shading their faces. Kris and the others join with them, with Kris now standing front and center in front of the camera.
"The problem that I have with you is that you are nothing like what you say you are. You hide yourself behind some persona. Me, on the other hand, I throw myself out in front of this camera, and in those arenas every single week. There is no bullshit when it comes to me. Yet, you gain a little recognition. You put yourself up above the people. Let me tell you something man, you are afraid to show your real self, and people know you in spite of it. I speak from the heart and nobody knows my name. You want to be on a pedestal for people to look up at? Fine. Be a role model. Me? I am just Kris Halich. I am just a face in the crowd. As far as you, and the rest of this roster is concerned... I am a nobody, but then again, so is everyone behind me. I am one of them. You choose not to know them because you are only concerned with them knowing you. That is a damn shame.... but that is your loss."
As he finishes, he starts to move backwards. The crowd moves up, and in moments, Kris is just a faceless individual in the crowd of nobodies. A second later, the feed is cut off.
