TAoMFatAiLB :: Ch. III - 4AM

[Stormm]

The Allure of Moving Forward and the Agony in Looking Back
Chapter III
4AM

Amid the once hallowed halls of the Pure Class Arena a serene hush accompanied the dim lighting and concrete. If not the typical nine to five, Trauma Thursdays, or Pay-Per-View Sundays, that was the norm. If those walls could talk, though. Over the years there had been just as much action happen back there – if not more – than the squared circle in the heart of the arena.

There was one area of the infamous backstage that lacked exposure, and went seemingly unused. In a world where every wrestler who stepped through the doors was a millionaire and had their own training facility, however, it was no wonder the in-house gym collected more dust than reps. The superstars were too good to use it, and the suits were too busy to bother stepping foot inside.

But the air was a little different in the arena as the clocks chimed four that morning. The halls were treated to the unfamiliar echos of clanging and banging of free weights being tossed about. Grunts and heavy breathing accompanied the singing of metal on metal, but more frustration was being expelled than weariness.

No doubt about it, the Force of Nature was in one of the foulest moods he had ever been in, as evident by the early morning workout. It wasn’t the first time he’d used that gym over the years, but it had been several; not to mention it being much earlier than he normally started off his day. Taking into account the time zone differences between Greenville and Kansas City, even more so.

Justin always tried to start his day with a smile, no matter how bad the day before had been. No matter how comfortable his bed was. It was impossible that day. He tried to run it off during his half hour cardio warm up, to no avail. As he finished up the last set for the first exercise on leg day, the anger he had towards his brother-in-law had not subsided.

Eliminating Kyle Shane in the Deadly Rumble, but coming up short and finishing third.

Losing to Kyle Shane at Trauma Two Twenty-One, and being forced into a North American title match with Gabriel set for Collision Course.

Being forced to team with Kyle Shane at Trauma Two Twenty-Two, against a man Justin wanted to get his hands on at the pay-per-view, and the man he has to wrestle instead.

Things had not gone all that well for Stormm since stepping foot back into Pure Class Wrestling, or at least not gone as planned. But the straw that broke the camel’s back? Johnny Vivacious inviting Kyle Shane to appear on the next edition of Club V, without a word of it being mentioned to Justin first.

Dropping the barbell to the ground, the plates on either side hitting first and making one of Stormm’s favorite sounds in the morning, his face remained furled. The gym was his church, lifting was like saying his prayers, and yet he was only going through the motions that morning. His thoughts didn’t waver from how much he wanted to hit Johnny. Kyle. Seromine. Even Gabriel. Mostly Johnny.

“C’mon son!” Turning to the sound of the deep, thundering voice, Michaels locked eyes with quite possibly the only other person he’d seen use the gym. The Head of Pure Class Arena Security, Dave Brandt, and that large, cartoonish smile of his, stood with his arms spread wide. “Bring it in!”

When former PCW President, Skylar Marshall, fired Dave in 2013, Justin was there to help him out and offered him a job with Havoc Entertainment. The two had grown closer since then, even after Dave got his job with Pure Class Wrestling back. However, instant feelings of regret surged through his body, as he hadn’t even spoken to “Big Dave” since returning to the company over a month ago.

Hesitantly, Justin approached the large man, whose bright yellow and green attire stuck out in contrast to his ebony skin, and was immediately buried in a hug unlike any he’d received before. “How’s it going, Dave?”

Dave’s laugh was just as cartoonish as his smile, and even more boisterous than his voice, and Justin got the full force of it in his left ear. “Not quite paradise, baby, and yet…”

“Not far from Hell?” Justin questioned back, knowing full well of Dave’s typical response to similar questions in and around the gym.

“You know that’s right!”

“Listen, Dave.” Preparing to explain himself, or come up with some lame excuse as to why the two hadn’t caught up since Justin re-signed with PCW, he was cut off.

“Shut it with that noise, you don’t have to explain nothin’!” Finally releasing the bear hug on the Force of Nature, Dave’s smile fades. “This place has been hustling for years, and they done tried treat you like garbage.” Brandt shook his head as he picked his gym bag up and made his way toward the locker room, Justin at his side. “I’m not the only one who went on thinking you’d never be back.”

“You and me both.”

“We all glad you is, though.”

Justin chuckled under his breath. “I’ve been kept pretty busy and on my toes since coming back, but one thing PCW hasn’t done is show it’s gratitude for Johnny and I coming back.” He hung his head. “Things have not gone well since I got back.”

Bringing his frying pan sized right hand down onto Justin’s left shoulder with a thud, Dave remained as positive as ever. “Listen to you, like alls the rest of ‘em.” He grabbed Justin’s shoulder and shook him a bit. “Since when did wins and losses become your jam?”

“Since I got into this business almost twenty years ago?”

“Shiiiiit, you’re trippin’!” Releasing his grip on the Force of Nature’s shoulder, he sets his gym back down just outside of the locker rooms. “You gotta stop fighting this battle with yourself, if you want to win any of the rest of ‘em.”

With his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth, Justin looks towards the ceiling in argumentative hesitation. “Biggest battle right now is that son of a…” He pauses. “Johnny is too much like his dad was, always trying to entertain. That worked to my advantage seventeen years ago with Joe, but it just feels like Johnny is using me now.”

“You two look like you be having the time of your lives in that ring each week. You just gots to stop overthinking everything.” With that big smile of his, Dave tried to assure Stormm, who had began moving plates between equipment to continue his workout.

“You make it sound easy, but you aren’t the one having to deal with that pain in the ass.” Justin’s frustration was far from hidden with his statement. “I’m not sure what’s worse, being partners in crime with him, or being related to him.”

“Neither sound great.”

They both laugh, Dave’s louder than Justin’s, but the frustration rushes back to the Force of Nature with the realization that he’s not just one or the other, but both.

“I just thought…”

Loading up an extra plate on both sides of the Leg Press machine that Justin was about to start working on, Dave cuts him off. “That’s your biggest problem right there, kid. You thinkin’ about shit way too much.” He shoots Justin a glare. “Thinkin’ and rushin’ will get you nowhere, and that’s all you been doing since you got back.”

“I’m not getting any younger.”

“You should know better then!”

Reflecting on the conversation as he busts out twenty-five reps on the leg press, Justin finishes his first set, and rests.

Grabbing two more plates and loading up the machine, they both shoot each other a look, and Justin quickly remembers why his workouts with Dave in the past were always so brutal; the man pushes, hard.

“Instead of being the one who over thinks the piss out of his opponent, be the man who gets overthunk. Everyone you face is just Opponent, not so and so who is better than you at this, and worse than you at that.” Unzipping his jacket, taking it off, and tossing over a nearby weight rack, Dave presses on while Justin starts his second set. “Where’s the guy that shows up, puts on a technical wrestling clinic, and entertains the hell out of everyone watching, regardless of wins and losses? Huh? Where’d that Stormm go?”

Justin remains speechless as he holds his breath, five reps at a time, before exhaling and taking in another deep breath.

“You want another title? Stop thinking about them! You want to win? Stop thinking about each match like it’s work! Just go out there, have fun, be notorious, entertain, and let the damn chips fall where they fall!”

It was hard to not listen when Dave spoke, and even harder for it to not sink in deep when he spoke sincerely. Setting the leg press back at rest after his second set, Justin let out a deep breath. “I came back talking a big game, and have basically been made a fool of, I’m not sure what to do next.”

“So that’s why you’re in here all white boy sad, lifting so damn early?” His joke was not so amusing to Justin, but Dave couldn’t help but laugh about it. “You know, as much as you probably don’t wanna hear it right now, Kyle Shane might be the perfect example of the type of attitude you used to have in the ring, and why you were so successful in the past.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Dave?”

Pointing at the Force of Nature, he points back to the leg press, not putting any extra weight on it this time, given how hard he saw it was for Justin to get through his last set. “Just sayin’, that kid challenges himself with every W, and every L, and doesn’t just whine about it. He wants something and he tries to take it. A little like someone else I know used to do, before he went and got too deep into his own head and started over thinkin’ the shit out of himself.”

Struggling to finish all twenty-five reps in his third set, Justin sits the machine back into its resting state and stands up, trying to catch his breath. “Things are different now, I can’t just pretend to be that same person. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that.”

“You know what Michaels, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. If you ask me, that’s who you really are, and this self-conscious, ‘woe is me’ attitude you’ve had the last couple years or so is you pretending.” Looking back at the weight machine, Dave doesn’t even have to say anything and Justin knows it’s time to try and finish his last set.

“Fine.”

“You might not have found ‘it’ just yet, but you been gone a while. If you ask me, you got a lot to look forward to if you just man up, and really look at the bigger picture.”

Justin shook his head, unable to speak as he fought the burn in his thighs a he pushed up the last five reps to finish out his leg presses for the day.

Making it back to his feet, and between deep breaths, the Force of Nature could help but question what his friend mean. “What’s the big picture?”

“Game Over. Two Thousand Eleven.” Dave snatched up his jacket from the nearby squat rack, and headed toward the locker room. “Game Over, baby; Game Over!” He paused halfway through the locker room door, with his gym bag in tow, and yelled back to Justin, who was frozen with an air of uncertainty surrounding him. “And when I get back out here, we’re really going to have some fun!”

It took nearly the entire time “Big Dave” was changing for Justin to put the pieces together. The Game Over event that year was Stormm’s first pay-per-view back in Pure Class Wrestling after it reopened earlier that year. He had come back with the hopes of going after the World title again, but instead found himself fighting for the number one contender spot for the International Championship.

The match ended in a draw the Trauma before the pay-per-view, and he found himself in a triple threat for the title instead. It was over six years prior, but it came back to him as if it were yesterday. He didn’t want the International title, but would have gladly fought to keep it if he had to. That wasn’t in the cards, though, and he lost the title match.

What Justin realized Dave was alluding to was what happened after the main event, when Loki had won the World title for the first time. Stormm had bought the new championship belt from PCW, and dangled it in front Loki, never giving him a chance to actually hold it. Two months later, at Return to Glory, he would actually win the title for the first time himself.

It was hard for the Force of Nature to believe that was six years ago.

It was hard to believe that he and Johnny Vivacious had returned together then too.

It was even harder to believe that Notorious had already lasted longer than they did the first time they tried running rampant around Pure Class Wrestling together.

The worst of it, Dave was absolutely right. Justin’s insecurities had become his armor over the years, and they weren’t going to do him any good.

If he wanted something, he was going to have to take it.

If someone stood in his way, he was going to have to move them.

Cheers? Boos? As long as there were asses in the seats, he was doing his job.

Wins? Losses? As long as his opponent left the squared circle knowing there were very few technical equals to the Force of Nature, the record wouldn’t matter.

Title belts would come and go.

Johnny Vivacious could consider himself lucky that Dave Brandt was in the building to talk some sense into Justin, who had been planning which eye of Mr. One Night Only to blacken up before the pay-per-view.

Kyle Shane could consider himself lucky to be teamed with Stormm later that week.

Seromine could consider himself lucky for avoiding Stormm at Collision Course, but would get a taste of the bullet he’s dodging in a few days.

Gabriel could not consider himself so lucky, because the Force of Nature would be coming for him, and Trauma Two Twenty-Two would be his warning. The North American Championship might not have been on Justin’s roadmap with his return, but if taking it from Gabriel was in the cards to get him back on track, then it was just going to have to happen.

Then of course, PCW and the faithful could both consider themselves lucky and not so lucky. Because Stormm was back, but the more comfortable he got, the more uncomfortable it was going to be for everyone else.