[SCW Staff]

Please post all roleplays here! Have fun and good luck!

[brandonhendrix]

Off Camera:

(A day that Hendrix never thought of has arrived- his little girl starting her first day of school. Something a parent fears at first for their children, now Brandon got to go through it as well. Pulling up to the Howard Early Childhood Center is the Hendrix's family in a 2023 Ford Bronco, parking at the entrance of the school with the rest parents that are dropping off their children as well. Brandon exits out of the driver seat and walks to the back of the car, opening the door which allows his daughter to jump down out of the car with her Barbie backpack. She takes her father's hand and they walk into the school. Hendrix squats down towards his daughter to speak to her.

"Alright sweetheart. I'll be back here when school ends to pick you up. Remember, listen to your teachers, make some friends, and have fun. Bye sweetheart."

"Bye daddy."

Hendrix gives her a kiss on the forehead and watches as his little girl runs off to join the rest of the students. Brandon stands to his feet before leaving the school. Brandon enters the car and drives off with the rest of the parents. After a thirty minute drive back to the house, Brandon leaves the car running so the AC is on blast, and closes his eyes for a "moment".

Continued:

Anthony last spoke to her the day before she left Raelynn asking him to meet up at a coffee shop to discuss something, and when he arrived, a little girl that turned out to be his daughter walked in with a note from Hope telling him that she is his daughter and she cannot take care of her anymore and that was it. It's been almost a year since that happened, and to see her now…. He doesn't even know what to feel. When she heard her name from the man, she knew the tone… and recognized the voice.

"....Anthony? Wh…what are you doing here? I thought you sobered up?"

Anthony sighs as he takes off his sunglasses, setting them on the counter.

"You of all people wouldn't understand. No actually, let me ask you something. What the fuck is wrong with you?! You left my daughter to walk into that coffee shop alone? What happens if I didn't show up? Are you that far gone to think about that?"

"Far gone? Don't you remember, Anthony? Don't you remember how we met? Doing a line at junior prom in the bathroom of the school? Do you remember sneaking off from class senior year to go to the woods to fu-"

Anthony stops her from continuing on that statement as he downs his next shot.

"That's not me anymore Hope. I am a businessman now, I have a responsibility to my daughter-"

"OUR DAUGHTER! Jesus Christ Anthony you haven't changed a bit. You truly sit here, and think you're better than everyone here because you got money, but you're not. You're just a self-centered asshole like you always been. It's why I cheated on your pathetic ass."

Anthony stands up from the bar and tosses a hundred down for the bartender. He stares at Hope before shaking his head and leaves the bar, his emotions getting the best of him as he walks into an alleyway and kicks the bar's big metal dumpster.

"AH FUCK!"

Anthony grabs his foot as he limps his way over to a brick wall of an apartment building. He holds his leg, until hears a voice from the entrance of the alley.

"Hey Doll, everything okay over there?"

Anthony looked up to see the bar waitress, with a needle in her hand…..

Brandon suddenly jolts up when he feels his body shaken from the real world. He comes to and sees Angelo standing at his side with the driver door opened.

"Angelo? How long was I out?"

"Too long Brandon, you got fifteen minutes before Raelynn gets out of school!"

Brandon's eyes goes wide and he quickly puts his seat belt on. Angelo closes the door and Brandon speeds out of the driveway and speeds down the road. By the time he gets to the school, the school ended almost ten minutes before his arrival. Outside stands a teacher with his daughter, Raelynn. Hendrix parks in the entrance of the school and runs over to Raelynn.

"Raelynn sweetheart I am so sorry. Thank you for watching her Miss…"

"Kara. And thankfully I was still here. I found her in the hallways. She was in a real panic, calling out for her father."

Brandon looks down to seeing Raelynn holding onto his leg, almost crying.

"Please don't leave me again daddy. Please don't leave me again."

"It's going to be okay sweetheart. I promise you."

Brandon picks Raelynn up, thanking the teacher again and brings her to the car. Brandon can't speak at all. He wasted an opportunity to be there his daughter…. For a nightmare at the past.

To Be Continued!

"I have an opportunity of a lifetime here with this match at XV. And I've been in almost every match imaginable: cages, ladder, Ultimate X, Death Matches, Iron man matches. But I never been in a match where I don't know the fate of what I compete in. And while that doesn't bother me, what bothers me is still after winning again and again, I don't even have a sliver of respect here. Hell, the place I won my only World Championship in and kept the fucking place from dying is allowing their stars to take cheap shots at me on shows I'm not even booked in for cheap reactions. "Seriously… what more do I have to do to be taken seriously? I've tried my entire career, actually no, my entire life trying to be taken seriously in everything I do. When I was in middle school and tried out for the basketball team, I had players and coaches tell me I couldn't do it, and that I would be a joke. Football, I was told I would be a joke on the field. Professional Wrestling, management made me to look like a joke. And I'll be damned to let it continue. I'll be damned to my rotting heart if I let this go on. I'm placed on the show to make performances of the year because nobody expects me to win! Everywhere I look, it's "Oh Brandon Hendrix on the card! Can't wait to see him look good in defeat!". And I'll be DAMNED if I didn't come back from nearly DYING OVER AND OVER AGAIN TO THE SPORT THAT I FUCKING LOVE AND CHERISH THE MOST WHILE BLOOD SUCKING LEECHES LIKE YOU ARE HANDED EVERYTHING YOU OVERRATED BITCH! I'LL BE DAMNED IF I BUST MY ASS EVERY GODAMN DAY OF THE YEAR TRYING TO PERFECT MYSELF! PERFECT MY CRAFT! TO MAKE A NAME FOR MYSELF! TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES SO THAT WAY WHENEVER I DIE, THAT THERE WILL BE KIDS, TEENAGERS, AND ADULTS THAT SEE WHAT I'M DOING AND BE INSPIRED TO FIGHT WHEN EVERYONE SAYS YOU WON'T WIN! I'LL BE DAMNED IF VINCENT TRIES TO TAKE MY SPOT IN IIW THAT SPENT THE LAST YEAR DOING MY FUCKING BEST TO EARN!!! I REFUSE!!! I REFUSE!!"

"..... How fucking dare all of you? I thought I left the world of favoritism in a professional wrestling company, but this? This is the same case as before. People sending 'GOATs' to me to make them look good because they're expected to beat me. Because "I suck". Because "all you do is lose the big matches". All that hatred towards me use to make me want to quit my dreams of being a professional wrestler. Why would someone suffer the tortures of everyday criticism because he losses more matches then he wins? Because he hasn't won a title? Because he isn't in with the boys like most others? Because he isn't ass kissing bosses like some? Why do I inject myself to the poison that's killing my career at this moment in time? Because I know that I Can Do It. I don't need anybody thinking that they will be the reason Brandon Hendrix isn't on top once again.

Vincent, I always give credit where it's due, you are the current champion and with that comes respect. But let me break it down to you, because you showed me lack of. You questioned if I was ready. Worst mistake of your life. It's funny that we are in an environment where the main theme is about gambling and taking risk because when the chips are on the table, everyone makes a rash decision and puts all those chips on Hendrix because I always deliver. Hands down, it's always been on Brandon to get the job done. I don't have much time for this, but allow me to give you a warning. Vincent, next time I speak.

I'm really going to fuck you up.”

[Vincent Lyons Jr]

The apartment of Vincent Lyons Jr is uncomfortably immaculate.  The single broken glass in the sink, the only oddity or sign that the place has been lived in at.

Vincent stares at the broken glass with a cut on his hand speaking to himself in a low steady whisper.

“I was right there..” he said “I had everything right my hands, it was perfect until it wasn't."

He huffs in frustration.

“HB Carter.” he grumbled of all people “HB fucking Carter. I let that little primadonna bitch catch me slipping.”

He slams a fist on the counter leaving a small stain of blood from his cut hand.

“That's all it takes is one slip…” he said “That's all it takes for them to see weakness in you. That's all it takes for them to see you as a failure.”

There was a short pause and a knowing nod.

“You always pick the perfect time to show up these days.” he said.

“I only come when you call for me.” his father reminded him.

“I didn't call for anybody.” Vincent muttered.

“You don't have to.” his father said “You bleed and I hear it.”

Vincent looked at the blood on his hand and clenched it into a fist.

“I had him dad.” Vincent said “That match was mine and then it was gone just like that.”

“It's not that big of a deal..” his father said “We all miss now and then.”

“It wasn't a miss.” Vincent shot back “It was a rare moment of hesitation.”

“Same thing..” his father said.

“Don't call it the same thing!” Vincent snapped.

“Take it as a lesson.” his father said “And grow from it.”

“A lesson?” said Vincent beginning to pace in his kitchen “This is humiliation. Everybody's going to whisper about my decline and rewrite what they think they know about me.”

“You're still a champion.” his father said “Take a look at the card, you're in a championship match, Victoria is in a championship match. Is Eddie in a championship match? No. Because your Uncle Ray raised him to be soft. I raised fighters, and that's why the two of you stand where you do, and why you'll do more for the Lyon's name then Eddie or any of your uncle Zachary's bastards.”

“So I should feel honored because of names on a family tree?” Vincent said.

“I'm just saying you and Victoria are standing where you are because you don't apologize for anything, use that” his father said “Put Carter behind you and focus on what's next.”

“Hendrix..” Vincent said. “He's one of those who did something in SCW years ago and is trying to find his former glory. He gave a whole sob story about his parents, his daughter and his heart and this and that. He seems desperate if you ask me.”

“Use it.” His father said, "Whatever you can find to get under his skin, throw it in his face.”

“I will.” said Vincent.

“Good.” said his father “You take Brandon Hendrix and let him know who runs scw now. Show him why returning to the company was a mistake he'll never forget.”

“Oh he's going to find out he's in the wrong place at the wrong time." Vincent said “I have a lot of anger to let out after my loss to HB Carter and I'm going to unleash all this aggression on Brandon Hendrix.”

“Remember to focus.” his father said “Make sure to make them see the consequences of stepping into the ring with Vincent Lyons Jr.”

“Well.” Vincent said “This Brandon Hendrix seems to think he's some heartbroken hero in a tragedy. Perhaps I'll remind him what he seems to have forgotten in his absence, that this is no charity and I'm not going to be forgiving of anything.”

“Do more than remind him.” his father said “Make him feel it. Every second you're in that ring with him, make sure he knows you're not here to play nice.”

“Nice,” Vincent chuckled “There's nothing to be nice about. I lost to HB Carter because I hesitated.  This time hesitation is no longer an option and Hendrix will be the first one to find that out.”

“Watch how he clings to his past like his shield.” his father said “It makes him predictable, use that and make him forget his own story.”

“Oh I'll make him forget.” Vincent smirked, “It won't take him long to realize that he gets no sympathy from me, and by then it will be too late and he will realize his own destruction is imminent.”

“Remember.” his father said “He doesn't get to define, you the Carters don't get to define you, you get to define you, and you set the terms.”

“And those terms are calling for me to put Brandon Hendrix back into history where he belongs.” said Vincent.

“Then do it.”  his father said.

“I will.” replied Vincent.

Then everything was quiet again the voice of his father gone once more the glass was still broken in his sink a reminder of his aggression with the sigh he grabbed a fresh rag out of a drawer and applied a tourniquet to his injured hand,  then sat in his living room comfortably among the silence with one single person on his mind.”

Brandon F'n Hendrix.

__________

Vincent liked the calmness of his mother's house and his mother always made him feel welcome. The cut on his hand from the other day had become a wound, a quiet reminder of the anger and frustration that still dwelled inside him.

“You've been quiet for a while.” his mother said looking up at him from across the table “You seem more settled than usual .“

“You could call it that I guess.” Vincent said humorously sometimes “I just like the familiar space to think.”

“Well it's good to have you here.” his mother said “It's always so good to see my wonderful children. Victoria was here the other day.”

That piqued his interest.

“And what did Victoria have to say, mother?” he asked.

“She's mostly focused on her own championship match.” she said, "I tried to talk to her you know, tried to get her to see things differently to come around to your point of view. But you know how stubborn your sister is.”

“Yeah.. I know.” Vincent muttered.

“She means well of course.” his mother said “But she overcomplicates things.  You just need to give her time she'll come around.”

“I suppose.” Vincent said “Right now I'm not concerned about my sister, I need to focus on Brandon Hendrix and retaining my championship.”

“So what's the plan then?” asked his mother.

“To turn his sympathy against him.” Vincent said "Take the armor he uses and make it so heavy it crushes him entirely.”

His mother said nothing, only listened.

“He wants people to feel for him and his sob story.”  he said “Maybe he thinks it'll make people be merciful. But I intend to show no mercy, mother and I will show him that he can't skate by on sentiment.”

“Nor should you.” his mother reminded him “Your father and I didn't raise you or your sister to be weak.”

“Yeah that's what Dad said.” Vincent replied.

His mother raised an eyebrow curiously.

“What do you mean that's what your father said?” she asked.

I..I mean thhhat's what he wwould have said..” Vincent replied stuttering slightly.

“Okay then.....” his mother said still looking at him curiously.

“I'll be fine Mother.” Vincent said, “Brandon Hendrix is nothing more than a mere obstacle. He's not ready to stand with the new school of SCW and I'm going to be the one to introduce him to that. A couple wins over Bill Barnhart don't make him a threat to me.”

“There's that Lyons spirit.” his mother grinned. “It's getting late, are you staying for dinner?”

“Of course.” Vincent said, unable to refuse one of his mother's home cooked meals.

“I'll go get the roast started.” she smiled and headed toward the kitchen. “You just get comfortable.”

Vincent watched as his  mother headed into the kitchen to start the dinner preparations, and leaned back into his lounge chair comfortably, and had been his favorite growing up and still was.

He thought about Hendrix and the way he carried himself using sentiment as a shield. He could see the cracks forming before he even stepped into the ring with him. There was something he admired about  somebody trying to fight their way back into relevance, but admiration and mercy were different things. He could give  some admiration, but there would be no mercy. He would show Brandon Hendrix why he was the standard now and why he was the chosen champion of SCW.

He let his thoughts drift to Victoria for a moment, thinking about his mother and how she had tried to broker peace and failed to get Victoria to see reason. Victoria was stubborn in her own convictions as he was stubborn in his own, they were still twins after all and that brought a slight smile to his face.  Someday maybe they'd reconcile, or maybe they wouldn't. Right now his focus was singular.

The wound on his hand ached slightly as he flexed his fingers, an almost meditative pain that reminded him of everything that had got him to this point. Thought about the looking Hendrix eyes when his armor of sympathy cracked under the weight of what Vincent was going to deliver, his jaw tightened at the satisfaction of the inevitability.

Falling back further into the he closed his eyes for a moment and allowed the warmth of his mother's home to overcome him. It all helped him feel grounded and reminded him that no matter what happened this place would remain his constant.

This was his calm before the storm that he intended to unleash on Brandon Hendrix.

__________

The camera opens on Vincent Lyons Jr leaning against a concrete wall in an empty warehouse. The roulette championship resting on his shoulder. He lets the camera linger on him for a moment, letting the silence get just uncomfortable before he speaks.

“You ever notice how some people treat this business like a confession booth?" he said shaking his head “They come with a story, sob in front of the camera and expect absolution. Begging for sympathy like it's currency. Just hoping someone will find them a spot on the card based on sympathy because of a tragedy they were once handed.”

He shakes his head.

“Is that what you expected Brandon Hendrix?” Vincent continued “When you told Bill Barnhart that little sob story about your past like anybody was supposed to care?”

He looks into the camera with no expression in his eyes.

“All I saw was weakness Brandon.” Vincent said “You revealed your weaknesses, because I'm going to tell you right here and now I don't give a damn about your dead parents. I don't give a damn about your ugly little daughter, and I certainly don't give a damn about that bad heart of yours.”

He remains expressionless as he continues.

“You don't bring heat, you just bring a sob story that nobody cares about.” Vincent said “Holding that little locket up , showing your daughter's picture like people are supposed to feel things. Not this guy, not Vincent Lyons Jr. I only know pain and chaos and you're going to find out exactly what it means to go up against somebody with the last name Lyons.”

He pauses.

“Being soft is not a virtue Brandon, it's a liability.”[/color] said Vincent “It's a weight that hangs between your ribs and makes you slow, the difference between a man who fights and a man who performs with grief.”

He exhales.

“This doesn't end well for you Brandon.” said Vincent “So you can save the tissues and the sob stories for someone else.  Because I am going to hurt you, and your daughter will most likely have to visit you in the hospital. You know that bad heart of yours? I have the right mind to stop it early for you, and send you to go visit your parents.”

He laughs, amused with himself.

“You should never came back Brandon.” Vincent said “Because I'm going to expose you, and show that you just can't hang anymore. If you really care about your daughter you know you would do? You would go home and hold her and be with her.”

A sinister smirk grows across his face.

“You think you're the judge, jury and executioner.” said Vincent “Because maybe for a time that's what you were, but now that title belongs to me you can ask Logan Hunter what it feels like to piss me off. Maybe all those people all along were right when they shouted die Brandon die, perhaps your daughter should realize that her father is in fact,  a fucking loser and the truth will only set her free and be better for her in the end. ”

He laughs again.

“Now all that's going to happen is your daughter watching and wondering… why.” Vincent said with a smirk “Wondering why the scary man won't stop hitting Daddy. Why he won't show Daddy any mercy, and let me tell you little girl… it's because your daddy is weak and your daddy doesn't deserve any mercy.”

He grins.

"You want to make this your second act that's fine." Vincent said "But I'm the director and this second act is only going to bring you more tragedy. More pain and more suffering I decide your fate and I decided you don't get a happy ending your daughter doesn't get a happy ending. The happy ending belongs to me, the chosen champion of Sin City wrestling Vincent Lyons Jr.”

He holds out his belt in front of the camera.

“You want this Brandon?” Well, you're not going to get it.” Vincent said “You can say anything you want, but when that bell rings you're going to see the look in my eyes and they're going to fill you with fear and you're going to realize that you made a huge mistake. You still have time to back out but if you don't then whatever happens is on you.  Brandon Hendrix you have been warned.”

With one final arrogant smirk the camera jarringly cuts to black.

[Vincent Lyons Jr]

The diner looked cheap from the outside but Vincent was hungry and the place seemed like a quiet place where nobody would bother him and he could eat alone in peace.

Over the door gave a tired chime sound as he stepped inside, the waitress smiled at him unbeknownst to the fact that she had actually served his family earlier that day and he wouldn't be the last member of the family to arrive in the diner that day either.

Of course each of them gave the waitress a different experience, and Vincent definitely didn't give off the same warm feeling that Eddie and Sabrina had earlier.

His aura was more uncomfortable and left a feeling of uneasiness throughout the diner as he found his own little table in the back corner to sit alone.

The waitress came by giving him the same smile she gave every customer.

“Names Mindy, Can I  get you some coffee?” she asked.

Vincent just nodded, and the waitress poured him the cup and left, vanishing without a second glance, he stared down to the blackness of his coffee. The first sip burned his throat and that was just how he liked it.

He could still see Carter's stupid grin in his head in that moment after the match was done and all that was left was a white blur, the taste of his own blood and the smell of humiliation. He could feel them all looking at him after looking at him like a lion who lost his teeth.

He clenched his jaw tightly.

People just saw him as the volatile member of his family, but nobody ever saw what came before the anger. The hours were he bled in silence so when the lights came on he could survive in the ring.

And still he was forced to watch someone like Carter get his hand raised.

It was enough to make him sick. He was better than HB Carter and he knew it. He was the one that they had chosen to be one of their champions. They had handed him a championship, and said we want you as our champion. Nobody else had that honor except Vincent Lyons Jr.

His mind shifted to Brandon Hendrix, the next sacrifice. The name he would carve into memory to show the world that he wasn't done yet.

He took another sip of coffee, still hot, still delicious.

“They think I've gone soft…” he muttered quietly to himself. “But I'll make Brandon Hendrix an example to show them how wrong they are.”

He looked up as the waitress returned to his table.

“Just coffee tonight hon’?” she asked politely “Or can I get you something to eat as well.”

“Steak.” he muttered “Rare. No sides.”

“Just a steak by itself?” she asked

Vincent glared at her as if to say -did I stutter-

She gave a nervous nod, refilled his coffee and took his order to the kitchen.

He took another sip of coffee, every sip stoking something inside of him. A burning fire that nobody could feel but him.

The waitress reappeared before he realized it, setting down his plate with a cautious smile.

“Rare and bloody for you sir.” she said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“More coffee.” he said.

She nodded, and quickly got him his refill and left him alone deciding it best to avoid any small talk.

Vincent grabbed his knife and pressed it through the meat, watching it open up underneath the blade bleeding slightly onto the plate. A grim satisfaction came across him.

The steak tasted cheap but that didn't matter it was just something to keep his hands busy as his mind tore through past memories and future plans.

That grin of HB Carter just wouldn't leave. That smug tilt of his mouth when the bell rang looking at Vincent not with pity, but with certainty like figured him out.

He sliced through another piece of steak and pictured Brandon Hendrix. He couldn't wait to get his hands on him to make him.  To make him flinch and show him the reality of what it meant to get into the ring with Vincent Lyons Jr.

He stared at the blood collecting on his plate. It wasn't enough, it never was.

Vincent finished off the steak and wiped his mouth clean with the napkin. When the check came he left his money and neatly stacked his dishes, in that politely creepy way, before quietly making his exit.

He got into his car,  and with no music playing drove off down the road, allowing Brandon Hendrix to remain the only thing on his mind amid the quiet.

_________

The camera opens on a dimly lit area with black curtains and a single light that only picks out the planes of the face of Vincent Lyons Jr looking at the lens like it owed him an answer. The roulette championship on his shoulder shining brightly through the darkness.

“I listened to you talk, Brandon.” Vincent said “I listened to you talk and talk and talk. Every word out your mouth sounding like a therapy session that nobody asked for.”

He keeps his expression calm and focused.

“Whatever you were in this company before doesn't matter to me.” said Vincent “What matters is what you are now and what I see is a crybaby who refuses to hold himself accountable for his own failures.”

A cold, calculated grin grows across his face.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” said Vincent “Because if that's what you think you really don't know who I am. I'm not out there looking to meet the expectations of others. I'm looking out there to meet the expectations of Vincent Lyons Jr.”

He pauses shortly.

“And you know what? I failed those expectations on Climax Control when I let HB Carter beat me.” said Vincent “That primadonna little piece of…”

He clinches a fist and exhales heavily in frustration.

“No no NO!  I can't let them do that to me. said Vincent “I can't let that family get under my skin. That's what they do to people you know. The Kasey's.”

His lip quivers, the name Kasey rolls off his tongue with the utmost disgust.

“Now Brandon I have this rage. This rage building inside me.” said Vincent “I can hear the Kasey's. Their smug voices mocking me. I need to let this rage out, and unfortunately for you, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He laughs smugly.

“Because the truth is what I've already told you." said Vincent “I don't care. Whatever sob story you want to wine and complain about, means nothing to me. Your daughter, means nothing to me. Your failing heart, means nothing to me.  If you want to paint yourself as a victim I have no problem making you one.”

He pauses.

“You want to complain about being told you weren't good enough.” said Vincent “All the critics, all your doubters. Did you never stop to think that maybe they weren't wrong?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Respect isn't something you cry about.“ Vincent said “It's something you take. You stand tall when the smoke settles and everyone else is broken. That's what I do. That’s why I was chosen to hold this championship because I don't ask for anybody's sympathy.”

He probably pats his championship.

“That's what truly makes us different.” Vincent said “You think the world is unfair and against you. But I know it is. But unlike you I don't complain about it, I feed off it.”

There's a slight quiver in Vincent's lip.

“You think you're the only one that's bled under those lights?” [/color]said Vincent "You think you've got the monopoly on suffering? Because you don't. You just don't know how to shut up and live with it.”

He gives a heavy annoyed exhale.

“You're tired of people looking at you like a joke.” said Vincent “But the thing is Brandon, when you spend all your time screaming for validation what else can people call you? You're not fighting for respect,  your auditioning for pity and pity doesn't win championships. You say you'll be damned if I take your spot? What spot is that exactly? Because last I checked one of us is a champion around here and one of us isn't.”

He motions to his championship drawing attention to it.

“You think this championship is going to fill some empty void in your life.” said Vincent “That's not drive, that's desperation.”

He pauses, taking in a breath.

“You're all upset because I questioned if you were ready?”  said Vincent. “Your goddamn right I did. All your whining and complaining only tells me that you're not because the man who has to convince himself that he's ready, truly isn't.”

He pauses shortly again.

“You don't need to worry about me taking your spot." Vincent said, “Because I already have. You just haven't realized it yet. You don't understand that I'm not looking to go as far as I need to win this match, I'm going as far as I want.”

He smiles, but it's anything but friendly. His eyes never move, remaining fixated on the camera, unblinking.

“I'm not looking for people to love me.” Vincent said “I'm looking to make them remember me. They're going to remember me as the man who rips people apart. The man who turns every match into an autopsy.”

He exhales, keeping the cold grin on his face.

"I'm not just going to beat you Brandon. I'm going to instill fear in you I'm going to make you wish you never came back. I'm going to send you home to your daughter with a chill that crawls up your spine every time you hear my name.” he continued

He laughs.

“I want you to remember everything Brandon." Vincent said “Every broken rib, every cracked bone, because it's going to be proof that you're crying and excuses need to stop. Proof that Vincent Lyons Jr showed you what happens when pain evolves into purpose,  rather than pity.”

He takes a few steps closer to the camera.

“You say you're going to fuck me up?” said Vincent “Well, challenge accepted Brandon. I mean, somebody's going to be getting fucked up in this match, but it's not going to be me. I'm going to be the one fucking you up. Understand there will be no respect,  there will be no mercy. Just cold, cruel calculated violence. I'm going to walk out of High Stakes still the Roulette Champion, and I'll send you home with something to truly cry about.”

He laughs to himself again as the light flickers above him, then slowly dies to the sounds of a violin, leaving everything in darkness.

[/i]

[brandonhendrix]

[color:#ffffff]2022- OWA Civil War[/color]

{The event has stopped recording, but Hampton's theme song continued playing as the German fans that filled the arena start packing up. Hendrix leans against the same steel steps he slammed Hampton face first in with hopes it would have been enough to gain Heavyweight supremacy. And despite the fact that Mark Michaels cost The Don the match, he's not even mad at Michaels, he's more pissed off at himself. He failed again. He went all in and put every single chip on the table and didn't draw the lucky card. Wiping the blood from his head that was caused by the Prestige Championship during the match from his eyes, he uses the ring to pull himself up to his feet, clenching his midsection…. And everything sinks in as he watches Hampton walking up the ramp, high fiving some remaining fans as the Immortal Heavyweight Championship is draped over his shoulder, almost mocking Hendrix unknowingly. Emotions that hasn't been shown in a while pour out of Hendrix- sadness knowing that he couldn't keep his promise to his family, embarrassment for not securing the deal with an injured Hampton that most others maybe could have done, and lastly, shame. Hendrix feels like he brought shame to his family name and to everyone he is around. After making his way around the ringside area, up the ramp and through the curtain, Hendrix falls to his knees before resting his head down when someone places their hand on his shoulder. He looks up, seeing his mentor and father figure Angelo standing beside him. He grabs underneath Hendrix's arm before helping him to his feet.

Angelo: "Look Anth-"

Hendrix: "....no. I failed, Angelo. I… I failed again. I let everyone down. I let my dead mother down. I let my dead father down. I let my aunt down, my uncle down, my cousins down, you down, Tony down, Marco down, Matteo down…. I let my…. My… little girl down…. I let Raelynn down…. And that hurts the worst of all. I'm done Angelo…. I'm done."

Angelo: "Anthony where are you going?!"

Hendrix: "..... I'm taking Raelynn and we're going away for a while. I'll be back.to take control of the family… but until then, you're in charge. Take care of them Angelo, please."

{Hendrix puts his hand on Angelo's shoulder and turns to walk off. That's when Angelo grabs Hendrix's arm, stopping him from leaving.}

Angelo: "NO that's quitter talk! Look, you were screwed out of the belt by Mark Michaels! Maybe we can talk to Remington and get you a rematch for the title and-"

Hendrix: "No. Remington is seemingly done with my partnership, so even if I wanted, he wouldn't grant me anything. And Mark Michaels didn't cost me anything… I cost myself the title match Angelo. I did everything that led to to me getting speared out of being World Champion. I'll see you soon Angelo."

{Hendrix removes his arm from Angelo's grip and walks off. After having his head stitched up and cleaning himself after a hard fought match, Hendrix dressed in his best suit and tie leaves the arena with his bag before entering the SUV that brings him to the airport. As he is driven to the airport, he reaches into his phone before dialing up a number.}

Raelynn: "Hey daddy!"

{Hearing her voice…. Seemingly washed away a lot of the pain for Hendrix at this moment.}

Hendrix: "Hey princess. I'm… I'm coming home… and um… we're going on a little vacation."

Raelynn: "Where are we going?"

Hendrix: "Wherever you want sweetheart."

Raelynn: "Can we go to Disney World?!?"

Hendrix: "Heh…. Yes we can go to Disney World. Daddy is about to arrive at the airport so I'll see you when I get back."

Raelynn: "I love you daddy!"

{Hendrix looks down at his lap, wiping his face from the tears that are producing right now.}

Hendrix: "... I love you too sweetheart."

{Hendrix hangs the phone up and sets it down on his lap. He just finished a chapter in his life, and he's semi ready to start the next.}

[Color:#ffffff]2025- High Stakes[/color]

“The Lyons Den. What's a Den when the supposed King of the Den isn't even the biggest name in the fight? The King is supposed to be the most feared of the Den, but you're not even the most feared in your own house hold. And one day, your little group of followers will seek to move away from you and leave you to rot in the jungle. You're a fraud Leader against a true Mafia leader, and you should know if you done your homework, that when facing the Don of a Mafia, we do anything and everything it will take to get rid of someone in my way. It's why I'm a former Champion. But even with that, I'm still locked past by everyone and thought to be something… bad even though I would have match of the night.


But, like always, I walk through those curtains and I'm met with applause. Every fucking time I do a match, I walk to the back and get greeted the same way- "woah Brandon that was really good! We didn't expect that from you! Great job!". Fuck all of you. This bullshit has to stop. Everyone single one of you treat me like I'm some special needs child that you feel like if you don't shower me in praise and glory even for losing, I'd quit or kill myself. It's almost like it's hypocritical of many to believe that the only time I quit a company is when those motherfuckers had to force a change of results in order for their oldies to remain at top because that's all they know. It's almost comical that it's always the case of "Good job, but almost there!". Bro I'm so tired of being the case of "almost there" while other undeserving fucktarts get opportunities after opportunities just because of their name.

They will put on horrible performances and lose four, five, six, ten times in a row and still get chosen over those that have been winning and busting their ass to not only improve in their craft, but to show their bosses that they're ready for the weight of the world to be dropped on their shoulders. And after so many years of busting my ass in the independent scene or in the spotlight of places like Omega Alliance Wrestling, Revolution1, Level Up Wrestling, and so on of busting MY ASS to become the man and star I am today to be passed over time and time again, it's disgusting. It's disturbing. And after the match I had with Mark Michaels, the praise I've gotten, I figured this time, I would get somewhere farther. I actually believed that I would get the respect I thought I deserved.

What more do I have to do? What more do I have to sacrifice? What would I have to change for a sniff of something big? Would I have to die and come back from the dead in a triumphant blaze of glory? Maybe if I joined a stable then maybe I'd get a bigger opportunity? Maybe if I walk up to the World Champion and tell him to gargle my ballsack and be edgy like these others are doing to get main TV time? Oh and before you ask who the fuck do I think I am, go back to last time I spoke where I told you all you will know and remember the name of Brandon Fucking Hendrix, and those fans and all my past victims know exactly who the fuck Brandon Hendrix is. But I can't get people that put me in these fucking matches to know who the fuck I am?!?! This is seriously Project Honor all over again."

"Ain't nobody on this brand is going to work harder than me in any way shape or form. If it comes to the gym, I will outrun you, out lift you, outperform you. I will do anything it takes to outdo you in the gym so the attention is on me and not them. On the mic I have practiced and practiced in the studio for ways to neutralize my victims in every single way possible. Hell, I have the dictionary saved on my phone and in my library so I can look up creative ways to tell you that you suck and that I'm better than you. Hell, I did an entire promo using different teachings: math, history, science, and so on explaining how I'm superior to others. And in that ring, I will adapt to any style need to be to outdo them. You throw in some seven foot four hundred pounds powerhouse and I will body them with the strength of one thousand strongmen to bring them down. You put me against a luchador and I will take to the sky like never seen before to steal the show. Throw me with a technical guy and I will show you my amateur wrestling background from college when I wipe the floor with you. Put me in an Ultimate Submission match versus the best submission artist in the game and I will use hundreds of ways to make you tap out with a fucking armbar. I will box with the best strikers in the world and get a first round knockout on their bitch ass.

I'm truly befuddled, but I know what I must do. I must let that dawg out in me. I must let that motherfucker out that broke a man's spine, then his spirit, then broke his lifeline on earth. I must be that motherfucker who will murder the entire horde of SCW. Maybe that's what is wanted of me? They see a man at six foot and six inches tall that weighs in at a clean two hundred and fifty pounds of pure pissed off muscle that can decapitate anyone's head from their neck. There are two hundred and six bones in the human body, but none of them will matter if a snapped spinal cord sends their body into shock.

If last week proved anything, it was that I was too complicated with my talent. I got distracted by the shining lights and standing ovation I was getting and it cost me the first chance I had in my OWA Redemption Arc. Because of that loss I had to punish myself by waking up at three in the morning and punching the bag until noon. I HAVE TO PUNISH MYSELF SO I DON'T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE TWICE! AND IF I LOSE TO KONY THEN I MIGHT AS WELL BE LIKE MY CHILDHOOD HERO ROBIN WILLIAMS AND ERASE MY TIME ON THIS FUCKING EARTH! FOR YEARS I'VE GONE TO COMPANIES AND THEIR FUCKING OWNERS WOULD LOOK AT ME AND SAY "GOLLY BRANDON! YOU CAN DEFINITELY LEAD OUR COMPANY AS WORLD CHAMPION!". BUT THEN CONTINUE TO SCREW AND HOE ME OUT OF ANY OPPORTUNITY THEY HAVE FOR THEIR FUCKING GIGGLES AND HEHES!

As far as I know, the Roulette Championship match, that could be the last time I ever get a title match ever. When I first stepped into this, I was given everything I needed to become Champion. And I GAVE and I GAVE OVER AND OVER AGAIN, AND THEY TOOK AND TOOK AND TOOK ABSOLUTELY EVERY FUCKING THING OUT OF MY SOUL JUST TO THROW ME AWAY LIKE I WAS BROKEN TOY WHEN THEY ARE TIRED OF TOYING WITH ME AND TRIES TO SEND MY CAREER TO THE ABYSS CALLED "WASTED". ALL THIS TIME PEOPLE CALLED ME "WASTED POTENTIAL BECAUSE I NEVER GOTTEN THE MAIN GOLD! ALL THE OTHER TITLES I'VE WON MEANT NOTHING TO THEM BECAUSE IT'S NOT THE BIG ONE AND BECAUSE IT'S NOT THE BIG ONE, THEY MEAN NOTHING! AND WHEN TIMES GOT WORSE, I'VE BEEN STOPPED AND ASKED "BRANDON WHY DO YOU KEEP KILLING YOURSELF FOR A DISTANT DREAM THAT MOST LIKELY NEVER COME TRUE?!?".

……… It's because I need this. It eats away at me every single day. It's like a sickness worse than the one slowly killing my heart that's picking away at my brain. And when I'm being told "You can't do it!", it's there in my head saying "YOU NEED THIS! DON'T YOU QUIT ON YOUR DREAMS BRANDON! IF YOU FIGHT FOR THE DREAMS YOU HAVE, THEN THEY'LL FIGHT EVEN STRONGER FOR YOU!". You see, I've been gifted with a trait called the "It Factor". I can walk into any room I'm in like nothing, make any conversations up no problem. I can do signings, media, photo shoots, get two hours of sleep, and go to that ring soon after and steal the show. And I did that……… I did that EVERY FUCKING NIGHT! I DELIVERED MY ALL EVERY. FUCKING. NIGHT! NONE OF YOU HAVE THE RIGHT QUESTION OR DISCREDIT ME! I DO THIS THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE DAYS A YEAR! EVERY NIGHT I DO THIS AND I'M STILL SHOCKED THAT MY DEDICATION AND LOVE FOR THIS BUSINESS CAN GET QUESTIONED DAILY!

I looked at my daughter and I promised her that daddy would place a title in her hands again so she can stand in between the tombstones of my parents so I can hang that picture up in my office so I can say "Mom, Dad… I fucking did it. Your son did it for you!". And I will say that by the end of this……… even if it's the last thing I ever do. I told you all that you will remember my name, and after it's all said and done, the name of Brandon Fucking Hendrix……… is never forgotten. Vincent, I promise you you will never forget me. And you will never forget the gamble you did that cost you the Roulette Championship to the Don.”