Post by Loki on Aug 11, 2020 18:50:41 GMT -5
I groaned as I rolled over, “Everything hurts and I’m dying”. That single thought ran through my head repeatedly, growing from a sinister whisper to an explosive cacophony.
“Of course you hurt, you idiot. You’re almost forty and you decided to throw down with an actual freaking amazon. The only reason you won is because you were smart enough to take out her legs.” I loudly berated myself.
It was the twenty-four hours removed from “Return to Glory” and all the adrenaline had finely faded, and I was left feeling like a one massive bruise. The one thing that made it all worth it shone brightly in the morning sun. The PCW North American title adorned my dresser, the gold and precious stones glittering in the sun beams and dust motes.
It had been almost fifteen years to the day since the first and only other time I’d won that title, and now it was mine again. At least for a little while. Kyle Shane was lurking in the wings and rightfully so. I’d taken what was supposed to be his match, his title. I promised that he’d have the first go at it, but I’d attacked the younger man’s pride. That usually didn’t end well.
I sat up with another pained groan. There were problems coming, but those were problems for a properly caffeinated Brandon. I made my way through the stainless steel and glass monolith that was my home and pressed the power button on an overdesigned coffee pot. Whatever happened to simplicity for simplicities sake?
As the abstract art exhibit that doubled as my coffee maker did its thing, I let my thoughts drift back to PCW. Amidst a smattering of congratulations, I’d been informed that I wouldn’t be competing at Trauma 275, they wanted to feature the match between Shane and Black and didn’t want it overshadowed. Instead I’d be facing off against Razor Blade at Trauma 276. It was being presented as a a mini vacation in order to get over the aches and pains I’d no doubt just accumulated. Well they were right, and I appreciated the little bit of extra time to recuperate.
With my coffee freshly brewed I decided I’d better start getting ready for Mr. Blade. It was almost a month away, but it was never too soon to start getting back into fighting shape. I’d kept in decent shape during my hiatus from the ring, but I was a couple of bad weeks away from a dad bod. The bout with Alexa had taken far more out of me than it should have. If I was going to have any chance at keeping up the little bit of momentum I’d managed to build I’d have to do something about that.
FIVE YEAR AGO
Ever since they’d started training, Brandon had seen to it that she had a permanent ticket at the will call. Luckily for her he’d neglected to cancel it after everything that had happened. She was just going to watch the show, she’d told herself. She didn’t care what happened to Brandon. That’d held true up until she’d heard him scream.
She watched as he clutched his shoulder as though he’d been shot, heard him scream out in pain again as Grimm dumped him into the open grave. It was all she could do not to jump the barrier and run to his aid. As the match ended, she ran towards the back. She was just going to make sure he was okay.
Building security held her up briefly as they checked and double checked the backstage pass she’d been given early in their relationship. Finally, they let her into the back and she rushed through the backstage area, heading for the medical center.
She found Doctor Suresh in his triage station but Brandon was nowhere to be seen.
“Doc, where’s Brandon,” she gasped.
Doctor Harold Suresh looked up from his task, “You’re Jessica, right? I’m sorry he’s not here. we’ve transferred him to St. Francis for X-Rays....”
The young woman was gone, running down the hall before Suresh could finish his sentence.
Several tense minutes later Melissa pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot at Bon Secours St. Francis Medical Center.
“What am I even doing here?” The young woman asked herself, not for the first time that night. Brandon Noble had been her mentor, her teacher, her friend. And he’d betrayed her. She wouldn’t forgive him for that, couldn’t. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t make sure he was okay.
“Of course you hurt, you idiot. You’re almost forty and you decided to throw down with an actual freaking amazon. The only reason you won is because you were smart enough to take out her legs.” I loudly berated myself.
It was the twenty-four hours removed from “Return to Glory” and all the adrenaline had finely faded, and I was left feeling like a one massive bruise. The one thing that made it all worth it shone brightly in the morning sun. The PCW North American title adorned my dresser, the gold and precious stones glittering in the sun beams and dust motes.
It had been almost fifteen years to the day since the first and only other time I’d won that title, and now it was mine again. At least for a little while. Kyle Shane was lurking in the wings and rightfully so. I’d taken what was supposed to be his match, his title. I promised that he’d have the first go at it, but I’d attacked the younger man’s pride. That usually didn’t end well.
I sat up with another pained groan. There were problems coming, but those were problems for a properly caffeinated Brandon. I made my way through the stainless steel and glass monolith that was my home and pressed the power button on an overdesigned coffee pot. Whatever happened to simplicity for simplicities sake?
As the abstract art exhibit that doubled as my coffee maker did its thing, I let my thoughts drift back to PCW. Amidst a smattering of congratulations, I’d been informed that I wouldn’t be competing at Trauma 275, they wanted to feature the match between Shane and Black and didn’t want it overshadowed. Instead I’d be facing off against Razor Blade at Trauma 276. It was being presented as a a mini vacation in order to get over the aches and pains I’d no doubt just accumulated. Well they were right, and I appreciated the little bit of extra time to recuperate.
With my coffee freshly brewed I decided I’d better start getting ready for Mr. Blade. It was almost a month away, but it was never too soon to start getting back into fighting shape. I’d kept in decent shape during my hiatus from the ring, but I was a couple of bad weeks away from a dad bod. The bout with Alexa had taken far more out of me than it should have. If I was going to have any chance at keeping up the little bit of momentum I’d managed to build I’d have to do something about that.
FIVE YEAR AGO
Ever since they’d started training, Brandon had seen to it that she had a permanent ticket at the will call. Luckily for her he’d neglected to cancel it after everything that had happened. She was just going to watch the show, she’d told herself. She didn’t care what happened to Brandon. That’d held true up until she’d heard him scream.
She watched as he clutched his shoulder as though he’d been shot, heard him scream out in pain again as Grimm dumped him into the open grave. It was all she could do not to jump the barrier and run to his aid. As the match ended, she ran towards the back. She was just going to make sure he was okay.
Building security held her up briefly as they checked and double checked the backstage pass she’d been given early in their relationship. Finally, they let her into the back and she rushed through the backstage area, heading for the medical center.
She found Doctor Suresh in his triage station but Brandon was nowhere to be seen.
“Doc, where’s Brandon,” she gasped.
Doctor Harold Suresh looked up from his task, “You’re Jessica, right? I’m sorry he’s not here. we’ve transferred him to St. Francis for X-Rays....”
The young woman was gone, running down the hall before Suresh could finish his sentence.
Several tense minutes later Melissa pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot at Bon Secours St. Francis Medical Center.
“What am I even doing here?” The young woman asked herself, not for the first time that night. Brandon Noble had been her mentor, her teacher, her friend. And he’d betrayed her. She wouldn’t forgive him for that, couldn’t. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t make sure he was okay.
