Post by Gerard Angelo on May 22, 2018 3:23:14 GMT -5
The setting sun cast long shadows through the study as it shone through the large windows that populated the west side of the house. Half the room was still cast in shadow and thats the part Gerard Angelo was sitting in. He had his bare feet up on an ottoman and he sat back in a brown leather arm chair. He was dressed in a blue silk robe as he read a heavy script. In his free hand he held a cigar clenched between two fingers as the blue-grey smoke rises lazily and circled the air around his head. He sighed in disgust and threw the script down on the hand carved wooden table next to his chair. From the same table, Gerry picks up a rocks glass filled with scotch and he takes a deep drink from it. It hasn’t been a great week for the Hollywood Hero. Hell aside from his debut match with Pure Class, he’s been nothing but mediocre. Was he too cocky? Before he came back, he hadn’t been in the ring in like five years. Hell, he hadn’t even done a signing or even guest appeared at a show. Maybe the business had passed him by and he was too stubborn to see it. Or maybe he was distracted and spreading himself too thin.
“Fuck if I know.” Said the wrestler turned actor to the empty room. He brought the end of the Cuban to his lips and inhaled before letting out a cloud of bluish smoke that billowed in front of his face before it dissipated slightly over his head, joining the other smoke that slowly traveled towards the window. Gerry pounded down the rest of his scotch and sank lower into the leather arm chair, the ash of his cigar breaking off and landing on the floor. Was he getting screwed over by the company? He rolled his eyes. Why had thoughts like this been floating through his head? It wouldn’t be logical for PCW to want to impede his career here. Gerry was bringing more eyes to the product then ever. He was a living, breathing, star for the company. One who proudly represented the brand through his various media responsibilities. Yet, the signs were all there.
Braddock had attacked him with out rhyme or reason from day one, and continued to try and hamper the Hollywood Hero’s advancement in the company. He still hadn’t given a damn reason, thought Gerry. He thought, no, he knew he kicked out before three, no matter how badly that referee explained his case. Even in the last chance battle royal, they let a man that wasn’t even employed by the company , let alone in the tournament to begin with, enter. And it was like the other participants were told not to help Gerard with the giant, even though it would’ve been smart business. The only question is why? Why would they try to hold him down?
Angelo shook his head. You’ve just had too much scotch, he told himself. This is like in high school when you and your friends would smoke weed and convince yourselves the government implanted mind control chips in you at birth. It’s just some bad luck. That has to be it.
“I’ve got two things to tell you.”
Gerry turns, startled slightly as his brother Sean enters the room, not looking up from the iPad he has in his hands. Dressed in a black hoodies and sweats, his longish blonde hair is pulled back under the hood. He plops down in the other brown leather chair, slightly adjacent from he one his older brother is almost swallowed up by.
“One,” says the younger Angelo, smirking at his famous brother, “That Stacy chick has a massive crush on you. She can’t stop talking about you. Hell, you even made it into her interview on this dirt sheet site.” He goes to hand the tablet to Gerard, by he waves it away.
“You know I don’t read the Internet nonsense. It’s bad enough Dave Meltzer is a thing, I’m not gonna legitimize some other goof. Besides, Stacy should be more concerned with that walking natural disaster called Dominator then myself.” Gerry puts the cigar down in a crystal ashtray, grinding it out in the remnants of other cigars, cigarettes and ash.
“Still, you should try and smash.” Sean says with a grin as Gerard rolls his eyes.
“You’re an idiot. If you like her so much, why don’t you get in touch with her. I’m sure she won’t break your arm, maybe.”
Sean grins. “Cool. I like it a little rough and crazy. So I can come backstage to Trauma?”
“Not on your life, bud.” Gerry says to his little brother, more concerned with his safety from the Pyscho Circus then him embarrassing himself. “So what’s the second thing?”
Sean suddenly get more serious and looks at his brother.
“Dad called me. He wants you to come to his house so you guys can talk. He said it was urgent.”
Gerry’s jaw dropped slightly before his lips turned into a grimace, his fist clenching tight enough his knuckles turned white.
“Well he can go fuck himself.” Our hero says, standing up and moving over to look out the window. Sean groans even though he expected this reaction from his brother.
“Come on man. You know he wouldn’t have even called if it wasn’t anything big.” Sean says exasperatedly. “I know you don’t like him, but he’s still our father.”
Gerard turns angrily and glares at his brother.
“He didn’t even have the nerve to get in touch with me himself. He had to use you as his messenger boy, like always.” His finger pointing right at his little brother. “I’m not getting sucked back in after all the things he’s done to me over the years. To us.”
Sean frowns and looks down at his hands, nervous, feeling like he was 12 again at home, caught in the middle of family drama.
“Please. Just go see him. For me. Please?” Sean asked, looking pleadingly at Gerard. Gerry went to rebuttal but seeing his brothers face made the anger melt away from his, realizing his brother was worried about their only living parent. He groaned, frustrated.
“Fine. I’ll go see him. But the minute their is any bullshit, I’m leaving.”
Sean readily agreed as Gerard went to go change and book a flight to Miami. Gerry knew he was making his brother happy, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread he had, wondering what his progenitor had up his sleeve.