How to rebound
It’s a week after the last PPV, Goth has gone away with Melissa to his native Netherlands to spend time with his son and mother, a moment that was meant to be a joyful one turned out to be a sour one.
He has tried to be in a festive mood, but a man like him that lives for winning titles had a frustrated period. Decided to go to visit his favourite café Stairway, formerly known as Stairway To Heaven and have a drink while exchanging memories with the owner and singer Henk Westbroek.
The two had shared some pleasantries while being offered his favourite glass of whiskey, making Goth relax a little, able to forget his frustrations for a moment while listening to a Cure cover band playing some of the band’s best songs.
“Shortly they will play Lullaby Gerrit.” Says Henk Westbroek, Goth lifts his glass towards him in order for a refill. He turns around on the bar stool as he looks over towards the cover band and nods in approval before turning his attention back towards his good old friend.
“Thanks Henk, I just had to get away from everything.” Sighs Goth, nerveously tapping his fingers across the bar as the legendary Dutch singer hands him another glass of Whisky. He had told himself that he would try and enjoy the holiday period of his son, who had been begging for him and Melissa to visit him for several weeks now. But ever since losing the Elite 8 title tournament finals to Finn Whelan has he been frustrated, wanting to punch anybody that would have ticked him off. But ultimately he knew that it would only cause problems for him and his family, let alone not wanting to be the headline for every gossip news show over here and in the US.
“Being famous sometimes isn’t always beneficial I guesss…”Goth mutters towards Henk, who chuckles as he leans his elbows upon the bar like Goth remembered him off from past conversations, pushes his glasses upwards upon his face before talking.
“I was pulling for you during that title tournament.” Goth groans, this was the last thing he had wanted to hear from his old friend as he looks up at him questionably, causing Henk Westbroek to lift his hands upwards in an apologe tic fashion. Goth scratches the back of his neck, trying to find the right thing to say before letting out a sigh and shrugs his shoulders.
“You know you are right, I had the fullest of confidence that I would teach him a lesson or two, I guess I was so full of myself that I fucked up.” Goth smirks a little, relieved that he did not have to be so political correct amongst friends. He had been getting annoyed with constant camera’s being shoved in his face during the two weeks that led up towards his world title match. It was the one thing that he had hated the most ever since returning to the wrestling ring several years ago. But he knew that it was part of his job and he had reluctantly accepted this as he knew that eventually winning every title would be worth the hassle. He groans over the fact that once again he could not get the title match out of his head.
“I am really annoyed over the fact that I was so close, yet I failed everyone but mostly myself. And I can’t stand the fact that all of those pissant suck ups were gloating over the fact that….”He turns his head to the side while biting on his lower lip, swallowing in the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He lifts the glass of Whiskey to his mouth, downs the glass in one swift movement before wiping his mouth with he back of his mouth.
“Give me another one.” He says with a frustrated tone in his voice, Henk looks at him but then fills the glass once again without asking the obvious question. Goth grabs the glass with both hands, staring at the alcoholic beverage as he feels his anger boiling inside of him.
“To me it was justice, to me it was inevitable that I should have been in the main event for that title and win it. Causing me to overlook the fact that I can claim a victory all I want, but I still have to get inside that ring and get the job done. And seriously, I was thinking to myself constantly of who the fuck Finn Whelan really is???” His eyes gazes towards his friend, who just stands there on the other end of the bar listening to him without saying a word.
“I mean seriously, I had been asking myself how in the hell he had beat Peter Vaughn, telling myself that this would not happen to me.” He says before downing another glass of Whisky, this time not asking for another refill as the alcohol makes him spew out some more frustration.
“I was so fucking focused upon spewing my gums about not having to face J2H, fuck this shit. This should have been my fucking moment!!!!” He spins around, about to throw the empty glass of Whisky against a wall in frustration but ultimately manages to maintain his composure and turns back around.
“I’m sorry, I nearly allowed my anger take control over me.” He sighs as he looks up at his friend, who places a hand on his arm in a comforting fashion.
“I had considered hanging up my boots, hell I was wondering whether I had it in me to take home the gold. But then I remembered why I returned to the business. The mere fact that I had promised myself that I would do anything in my power to get that title back one last time, it would only bring my career in discredit. And you know me, I am not a quitter. I am one of the fucking best in the world…. So I already had let management know that I am not going to stop ruining everyone’s lives until I get what I want.” He smirks at that final comment
“But then I realized who the fuck I am, not some idiot that runs of crying like a little bitch every time something goes wrong. Oh no I want to sink my teeth into what I know is rightfully mine… And that is me taking home that third world heavyweight championship.” The two men nod their heads towards each other as both men take a sip from a newly refilled glass of whiskey as Goth wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“And I have a first opportunity soon when I face Alexander Raven, a man that I already know will tell the world that the third time is his lucky number. Three time’s a charm isn’t it?? Hell, this guy is just like Desperately seeking Susan, there’s nothing good ever to come from Camp Raven even if I would put arrows around the spot marked with a big X.” Goth feels the whiskey taking some control over him, feeling that warm glow as he chuckles while toasting with his friend.
“I already feel pity for the guy Henk, I mean he is a good wrestler. But that’s the problem, being good isn’t enough.” “It wasn’t enough for you at the last PPV.” Henk responds, causing Goth to grab hold of his shirt in anger. Only to realize that he was messing with him, staring at the big grin upon his friends face as he lets go of his shirt.
“I’m sorry…”Henk Westbroek gestures towards Goth not to worry as he pours some more in his glass, causing Goth to gulp it down his throat in one swift move.
“I should have known that I would get a wise ass comment from you, but to get under my skin like that??” He stares at his friend with a determined look on his face, but shrugs his head and sighs.
“I wanted that belt Henk, I really did. I cannot believe that I lost that opportunity, after all what I have gone through the past several years. “He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to get all of his angry thoughts out of his mind before turning towards his friends face.
“But I promise you Henk, next time that I am here. I will be carrying that belt if it is the last thing I will do. Because I need it and I will stop at NOTHING to get it…. “With that the two men raise their glasses for a toast as the shot slowly fades.
The Goth vs. the Raven, once more.
Goth can be seen walking the streets of Utrecht, days before he would travel back towards the United States in preparation for his match against Alexander Raven. He walks towards a corner as he looks at the street lights before looking over his shoulder after noticing that he is being followed by the camera crew of Sin City Wrestling. Goth shrugs as he lets out a sigh before crossing the road towards the opposite of the road and continues his steady walk. His eyes are being focused upon some people that approach him, only to pass him as the youngsters clearly did not recognize the infamous wrestler. Causing a smirk to emerge upon his face as he stops at a bookstore window, gazing at some of the titles of the books that are being portrayed.
“Wouldn’t it have been a great story?? Growing up a young kid from this city in my home country of the Netherlands, not having any hope of mounting to anything? Ultimately ending up to be one of the most recognizable pro wrestlers of the last few decades?? Retiring with a sour taste in his mouth, only to return a few years later because he felt that itch. The itch to once again hold that world title….”He lowers his head towards his boots as his face darkens when thinking about how he wants to end that sentence.
“Only to end up coming short… yeah, not the story that little kids seem to have in mind when they want to dream about bigger things. But alas, like some of the sad individuals out there, there is always social media to gloat about someone else’s performance… Something that none of you could ever phantom of achieving.” The look on his face hardens, swallowing some of his anger as he wipes something out of his eye.
“Am I bitter? Perhaps, but at least I’m big enough to congratulate you Finn on your win. Double champion, congratulations. Having the double burden upon your shoulders for now to hold those belts.. We all know what you will do right?? Drop the less important title and move on your quest to be the top dog of this company.”
“Again, am I bitter???” He raises his hand, the fist is really tense as if he wants to punch a hole through the book story window. But ultimately relinquishes the thought of anger as he turns around and continues his walk, staring at the emptiness in front of him. He feels some rain drops falling down on top of the cap that he is wearing, realizing how much he hated the Dutch weather when he was growing up and realizes that nothing had really changed. He stops at another store, this time it is a store filled with men’s wear. Admiring some of the suits that is being on display, studying the caeful handy work that must have gone into making the suits as the thought of entering the store crosses his mind.
“I could just play it cool, tell the world that I made a mistake and that it was nothing but a fluke. I could tell the world that The Lord had different plans for me, that it wasn’t my time. But that would be telling the world that I was either telling a lie, or merely the fact that I did not understood the memo from above.”
“But that would have been foolish wouldn’t it??” He bites upon his lower lip, shaking his head as he lets out a sigh before placing his hand upon the doorknob of the store. Hesitating still whether he wants to spend a large sum of money on the suits, but then decides to do so as he needs to have something to distract him from his anger.
He hears the authentic bell ringing once the door opens, he inhales the scent of the store that is hanging around as it gives another authentic feeling to it all besides being a rather old building. He nods his head to young man that approaches him, asking if he needs something as Goth tells him that he just wants to look around before deciding whether he wishes to buy a custom made suit.
He notices a small bench, sits down upon it as he looks around.
“Ever been here in such a store Alexander?? I highly doubt it, perhaps once or twice. Being dragged into one by your parents, having the feeling of never wanting to look like a dweeb. Is that a word the youth still use these days?? People should tell me, because I am getting old. But I am drifting off, because if you were then I could shake your hand. I remember once my mother forced me to get a suit tailor made for a religious thing, where I became an adult and had to acknowledge the existence of God in front of the church. That I would accept HIM as my saviour and I would proclaim my allegiance towards him.” He smirks as he looks at a tartan type jacket of a Scottish outfit, completely with a similar kilt underneath.
“Isn’t it weird how at a certain age you assume you know it all, want to rebel against anything elders stood for… Only to turn out to be one at their age?? Oh yeah, I turned out to be like my mother and father. And even went beyond their imagination, but I guess that’s how you grow up huh??”
“And with growing up comes responsibilities, I have fulfilled every responsibility that was paved out for me upon a seemingly golden road. Except….”His eyes remain upon the kilt, remembering the one he had allowed a Scottish kilt store to tailer made for him and chuckles.
“But then again, what do you know right?? You may ask yourself whether I am bitter, but at least if I have a reason to be bitter. Because the world understands Alexander, that I am a bitter man because I only expect the very best. I don’t like to come out second best, something that you would sign the dotted line upon a contract if you had the ability of pre writing your destination upon a wrestling ambassador.” He remains silent as the coldness upon his face returns.
“But that’s where the problem lays for you isn’t it?? You have not even had a moment that crossed your mind, to even assume that an ambassador of this great sport would even exist. No, you are just a simple guy, who fights for small change and crumbs of whatever type of bread that is left to steal. No Alexander, I cannot phantom you ever rise to the occasion of stepping out of whatever it is that should be considered your shadow. That’s why the demand for people like me is so necessary, the necessary good of maintaining balance in this unfair world.”
“And before you start to assume that I am referring to unfair being me not having that world title?? Then I would applaud you if you ever could come up to the thought like that, but I was referring to the mere fact that you are the unfair part of this foolish story. Because why would you pop up in this story for th third time?? Is this the management telling me that I have to start at the bottom of the ladder and climb my way back up again?? I highly would doubt that, no there must be a different reason why I am being forced into this match against you. Is it the mere fact that you promised the world that you would finally… FINALLY beat a legacy like me?? Believing that I am at the lowest of low?? The fact that I am so distraught over the loss?? Then again I would tell you Alexander, that it is unfair to the world that you are telling yourself merely lies. Unnecessary lies about believing something that you could not and will never be able to fulfil. I’m not trying to put a blemish upon your career Alexander, but reality has got a stake slammed down your heart and make me want to watch your blood to turn black”
“Because unlike you… I will rephrase that… UNLIKE YOU, I feel the need to put everything into this match to clear my mind and focus upon that what I desire. Oh yeah, the man of the word has desires too. People would ultimately believe that we cannot have desires, that we need to be mindless followers that are brainwashed for the better cause of THE WORD. But don’t you see? I am love and forgiveness, yet I do not tolerate failure and pain.”
“That includes my failure and the pain that I am feeling inside of my heart., but what do you know?? Why would you even fucking care. You don’t, because you have no essence that would give ME the thought that there is still a soul left inside of you, trying to find a way out and tell the world that you matter. But you don’t and I’m not even going to say apology for the harsh statement, because it had to be said!! Just like I want to tell the world that I take this opportunity to acknowledge that the moment of my ascending to the Heavens and the Holy Spirit will be cast upon those who are worthy is upon us. But it cannot happen until I destroy each and every one of you that does not make the list of being there when it matters.”
“Yeah retirement is inevitable, but not until I make my promise a reality Alexander. I will make sure that I will send you a post card that reads that I will thank you. But don’t take this post card too seriously, because it will be a pre written card, where I allow someone else to fill in the empty spaces where a name should be as I do not look back to failures.”
“Failures Alexander, a word that you will tell the entire Sin City Wrestling community that I am a part of it as well. And yeah, it does not matter whether you are at the bottom of the ladder like you or being number two. When it comes down to be the very best everyone that isn’t on top is a failure. But that’s why you are bitter and I just hold resentment of not being the very best. That’s why I see a light at the end of the tunnel, because I am capable of turning this frown upside down, while you are nothing more than a wasted memory. Forgotten by those who hate people with a bird name.”
“I always had hopes of you having a killer mentality” He turns his attention towards the camera as he continues.
“Ever seen Hitchcock’s classic The Birds?? Where people’s eyes were poked out of their sockets, where they were attacked whenever those damn birds had an opportunity to show their desire to maim and kill?? Those birds had killer instinct, because they were nothing more than animals. Nature’s way of telling the world that there needs a balance between every single creature that walks or flies on God’s Green Earth. And that’s where things went wrong for you isn’t it??”
“You stepped foot in a world, a world that predators are on the top of the food chain. Making sure that the weak do not have the ability for a mass production, where the weak gang up upon the strong and end up like every other deer that is staring in the lights of a car before being hit.” He shrugs and nods his head towards the young man that he had seen earlier, allowing him to walk up to him as he tells him that he has an interest into the traditional Scottish outfit. Watching as the young man walks off before turning his attention back to the camera.
“You aren’t like Finn Whelan, you aren’t like me. The problem is that when the question will come up whatever it is that you are. Then I will tell you honestly that I will draw a blank, I will tell you that I do not know. Because the first name would suggest you are a man with determination and strength, just like Alexander the Great. And a raven?? Well, let’s just say that I am staring into the black dots upon the red wings of a bumblebee and nothing more when it comes down to your ability to devour the threat that wishes to do the same to you.”
“So no Alexander, I am not bitter. I am aware that I did not win and I am aware that when the moment comes to undo the wrong that only I got to blame myself for… That I will it will change the outcome. An outcome that will repeat itself 99 times out of 100. And guess what, once I will get face to face with Finn Whelan… He will know that number one out of the 99 is a guaranteed victory of yours truly… The Messiah of Pain… YOUR NEXT SCW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION. “With that Goth turns his attention back to the store employee as the shot slowly fades to darkness.
