Post by Gerard Angelo on Apr 21, 2020 22:06:44 GMT -5
A battle royal.
That was gonna be my ticket into the Icemann. My ticket to respect. Pure Class Wrestling doesn’t respect me. The company, the locker room, the fans themselves. They don’t respect everything I’ve done. Not just in my career, but for the company since I signed my name on that contract. They were able to launch the PCW Network, because of me. Highest-grossing Pay-Per-Views in company history, because of me. The move of Trauma to a top twenty rated cable network, because of me. Best television ratings in the history of the company, because of me.
Like the Titan Atlas, holding up the celestial heaven on his shoulders, I lifted Pure Class Wrestling when it needed me, and carried it for the last two years. While different faces strolled in and out of the company at their leisure, I kept this company afloat and profitable. And how am I thanked? Some of these same faces are given slots in the most prestigious tournament in wrestling today. Over me. The disrespect needs to stop. And I won’t be able to continue my destiny of changing Pure Class Wrestling for the better until I take the respect I am owed.
Week after week, month after month, I gave my all to this company. Even when the ones they turned to be there “stars” up and left without warning. Even when they disrespect the Living Legend regularly.
Why?
Because I love it. Pure Class Wrestling has so much potential to be the revolutionary force in wrestling. I see that potential. PCW is like a lump of wet clay. Something that can be molded and shaped by my hands. Turned into something that can better the future of the entire business. No one realizes that I am the one that loves this place more than anyone. More than Jason Willard. More than Rick Majors. More than Kyle Shane. More than Grimm. More than the damn champion Stormm. More than even the fans that spend their hard-earned money on this glorious company could even know. Sometimes tough love is what's best for everyone, even when they don’t realize it themselves.
Yet, everyone wants to stop the rest of Pandaemonium and me from doing what needs to be done. Sometimes things must change. Sometimes things need to come to an end, so it can be reborn more glorious than before. A phoenix needs to burn so a new one can rise from the ashes. The son of God died so he could be reborn to save the world (if you believe that sort of thing). But this needs to be more like a forest fire. A bright inferno ripping through the woods; burning down old, decaying trees, so new, stronger, ones can grow in the light.
======
He sat in the dark for a long time. He held his head in his hands before his thick fingers ran through his medium-length locks, gripping and pulling at them. Thoughts running rampant through his mind. How could she do this to him, he asked himself. How could she betray him? It wasn’t part of the plan, he thought to himself. To be fair, the plan only involved pretending to be in a relationship with her. The plan was to have her fall for him; keep her away from her ex-husband, and keep him teetering on the edge of misery. The plan was simple enough. They already saw the same neurologists and concussion specialists. He got to know her, using his charm and wit to win her trust. It didn’t hurt he was what most girls called “easy on the eyes”. IT seemed to be a foolproof plan that McLaurin came up with, though he said the Dark One came up with it.
What he didn’t expect was falling for her. She wound being everything he could ask for in a woman. Smart, sexy, funny, kind, and she even likes sports! What started as a faux relationship slowly turned into a true feeling of love for him. Her saying ‘Yes’ when he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife was truly the happiest day of his life. Even better than winning the Superbowl. McLaurin was seemingly happy when he told him of his intentions. He said the girl was a fitting reward for someone who served the Dark One proudly as he did.
He didn’t care though. Once the Dark Lord claimed his rightful spot as ruler of the world, he would be rewarded for being a loyal servant. He and his future bride would be safe and happy while the Black One reshaped the world in his image.
But his whole world came crashing down when he saw her kissing him. One would call it karma for them interfering in someone’s life, but he didn’t believe in that nonsense. What could she even see in him? What did he have that Theo didn’t?
He was a physical specimen. Six-foot five-inches, two-hundred and fifty pounds of rock-solid muscle. Former National Football League linebacker with two world championships under his belt. Lush blonde locks and piercing blue eyes to go along with a chiseled jaw, Theo was very popular amongst the ladies. He could’ve had any girl he wanted, but he chose her!
But she chose him.
That is not even the first time it happened, the ice-cold voice in the back of his mind said.
Theo’s mind is filled with a vision of his fiancee and her ex kissing. Christmas decorations are highlighted in the vision. Theo clenches his eyes shut and violently shakes his head; golden, shoulder-length strands of hair flying wildly. But still, the vision persists.
She betrayed you before, the voice in his head says, the voice like two ancient glaciers rubbing against each other.
No, this can’t be real, Theo thinks to himself.
But it is. I would never lie to you, Brother Theodore.
Theo clenched his large hands into massive fists. How dare she make him look like a fool?
You do not deserve this, Theodore.
No, I don’t, he thought, starting to shake in anger. Theo was better than him in every way. Theo was superior. More superior than that idiot wrestler. And more superior than that stupid girl who didn’t realize he was the best thing to ever happen to her. He would show them. If Theo couldn’t have her, then he’d make sure no one else would. Ever.
Prove your point, Theodore. Have your revenge.
He stood up and stormed out of the room in anger
====================
Gerard sat in the office room of his home. It wasn’t technically an office, he just called it that. It was more like a shrine to himself. Shelves adorned most of the walls, all littered with various replicas of championship titles and accolades he won in his career. Some would call it an impressive amount for a guy who was destined to be an enhancement talent for his career. One of those guys that could go out there, have a good match, then lose. He had so much promise coming out of wrestling school. Everything seemed to just come easy for him. Not just in wrestling but his life. Making friends was easy for Gerard, he never lacked for them. The school came easy enough. Sports was his bread and butter though. Gerry was good at nearly anything that involved athletic prowess. Football, basketball, baseball, you name it and Gerard was probably good enough to be varsity. He even breezed through wrestling school. Yet, when he got to his first big promotion, The future “Hollywood Hero” was rudely awakened. He had maybe one win in his first fifteen matches. The boys in the back whispered about how he wouldn’t amount to anything but a jobber.
Gerard refused to live with that label. He refocused himself and worked his ass off. He took himself from near laughing stock of the company to World champion, winning a multitude of titles in between. That’s why Gerard always has something to prove. It’s why he keeps getting up in the morning and going to work. It’s why, despite him feeling like he doesn’t have it anymore, he continues to push through.
Because he doesn’t ever want to hear someone say to him, “I told you so”.
He sat in the recliner, eyes going from championship to championship on the shelves, his mind mulling over his career and his life. How did he get to this point? He felt like his life was in shambles. His wrestling career was in a downward spiral. The movie offers had dried up. The only girl he ever loved refused to speak to him. His mentor slash father figure was still in a coma. He sold his soul to some demigod and had gotten nothing in return. Gerry was free falling and not in the fun, hold up your lighter, Tom Petty kind.
That’s why the battle royal was fittingly named. This seemed to be his last chance to give his life some direction. Usually, when he had something happen in his life, he could always throw himself headfirst into his career. Right now that was as dark as his personal life. Gerry needed to win this thing. His mission in PCW was the only thing that would distract him from the living hell that his life has become. Gerry needed to win this. And Pure Class Wrestling needed him to win this.
It didn’t matter if it was Razor Blade that got in his way. Or Alexa Black. Or Rick Majors. Or someone that hasn’t even been mentioned yet. Gerard needed to run through all of them. They wanted to be his roadblocks, but he would turn those blocks into stepping stones to the Icemann. Hell, he was Gerard Angelo. The only person to win the Deadly Rumble back to back. The man who took down Kyle Shane when no one else could. He needed to go back to the old Gerard Angelo. The one that wanted, no, needed to prove everyone wrong about him.
A long time ago, Gerard promised himself that he would never let himself feel like he did at the beginning of his career. He was starting to feel that way again, and Gerry has had enough of that. He was going to win the battle royal, or he was going to bring the entire company down around him. He was the one that the company needed anyway. Gerard was the only one that cared about PCW, and it was dying. He was the only one that truly cared about this place. The goddamned World Champion doesn’t even bother to show up for work anymore.
He wouldn’t let the place die. It was his destiny to save. His destiny to rebuild it in his image.
He would save Pure Class Wrestling. He would save everyone.
==================
Kara sat on the couch of her apartment, her eyes red from crying. It seemed to her as if she’s been crying for the past week. She hadn’t talked to her fiance since the day of the “incident”. Not since he told her he saw what she’d done and he was done with her. Since then her life had been a mess. She told her fashion company that she had the flu, so she would be out for a week or two. In reality, she just didn’t have the energy to care about anything. She hasn’t done her makeup in days, her hair is a mess. She had traded her designer clothes and daily exercise for a pink robe and Ben & Jerry’s. She gave up on trying to call Theo after he ignored her call for seemingly the thousandth time. So Kara just wallowed in misery for days.
Why did Gerard have to do this to her? She had told him she was in love with Theo a million times, yet he still tried time and again. A younger Kara would’ve been flattered and enjoyed two men fighting for her attention. But she was a grown woman now, not a little girl, like Gerard, remembered her. Yet, she remembered kissing him back for a second before she came to her senses. Did she still have feelings for her ex-husband? For sure. Gerard was the first man she ever truly loved. Her first real love and he would always have a place in her heart. But she was in love with Theo now.
But even as she said these things to herself, something about Gerard kissing her just felt right. Did she still love him? She knew he still loved her, that much was obvious. But was she just trying to convince herself that she loved Theo because she was afraid of being hurt by Gerard again?
She shook her head, trying to shake those thoughts from her mind. No, no, she said to herself, that wasn’t her life anymore. Her life, and future, was with Theo. If she could ever get him to forgive her that is.
Kara felt the tears welling up in her eyes again when she heard a knock on the door. She wiped his eyes with the fuzzy sleeve of her pink robe and got up, her slippers making nary a sound on the hardwood floor. Kara got to the door and lifted on the tips of her toes to peer through the peephole. Suddenly she moved quicker then she had in weeks, undoing the multiple locks and flinging the door open. Theo stood there, hands in his jean pockets, staring at the ground. She flung herself at him, wrapping her small arm around his waist, burying her face in his abdomen as she sobbed.
“Theo, I am sooo sorry baby,” She said between sobs, her tears staining his solid red t-shirt, “It was a mistake and it’ll never happen again, I swear.”
Theo slowly took her small arms and gently pried them from around his waist. He stepped fully into the apartment and shut the door behind him. Kara wiped tears from her smooth face.
“I already told him never to speak to me again and block his number. It’ll never happen…”
She froze as Theo finally turned and looked at her, his eyes scaring her. His eyes seemed different than their usually playful view. They looked hard and cold, evil almost.
“You’re right Kara, “Theo started in his deep voice, stepping closer to her, “It will never happen again.”
Something about the way he said it combined with his stare, caused Kara to take a step backward as he came near her. He lunged to grab her and she turned to run. That proved to be futile as years of being trained to catch world-class athletes carrying a football let him catch up to her in two strides and grabbed her blonde hair from behind, yanking her down to the floor hard, the back of her head smacking the solid wood floor. Theo stood over her and cracked his knuckles as he gave her a sick smile.
==================
Gerard still sat in the recliner in his office many hours after his initial thoughts. It was nearly dark as he dozed on and off, a bottle of bourbon cradled in his arm like a child. His faint snores were interrupted by his iPhone ringtone going off. Gerard jerked awake, the bottle falling onto the carpet with a dull thud. Luckily he had done a number on the bottle so barely any of the firewater spilled out. Gerry reached into his jeans and pulled his phone out. He squinted as the bright light hit his sleep-filled eyes. The number was none that he recognized. Usually, he would toss it behind him and go back to sleep, but something told him it was important.
Gerard slid the answer bar offer and brought it up to his ear.
“Hello?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Gerry had to pull the phone from his ear as loud yelling of a woman near hysterics shocked him.
“Mrs. DiMarco? Wait, slow down. What happened?”
Gerard's eyes went wide as more muffled yelling came out of the phone. Gerry leaped to his feet, his alcohol-fueled grogginess all but gone.
“I’m on my way as fast as I can!” Gerard said and ran out of the room, his foot kicking the bottle, sending it spinning into the wall with a clank.
That was gonna be my ticket into the Icemann. My ticket to respect. Pure Class Wrestling doesn’t respect me. The company, the locker room, the fans themselves. They don’t respect everything I’ve done. Not just in my career, but for the company since I signed my name on that contract. They were able to launch the PCW Network, because of me. Highest-grossing Pay-Per-Views in company history, because of me. The move of Trauma to a top twenty rated cable network, because of me. Best television ratings in the history of the company, because of me.
Like the Titan Atlas, holding up the celestial heaven on his shoulders, I lifted Pure Class Wrestling when it needed me, and carried it for the last two years. While different faces strolled in and out of the company at their leisure, I kept this company afloat and profitable. And how am I thanked? Some of these same faces are given slots in the most prestigious tournament in wrestling today. Over me. The disrespect needs to stop. And I won’t be able to continue my destiny of changing Pure Class Wrestling for the better until I take the respect I am owed.
Week after week, month after month, I gave my all to this company. Even when the ones they turned to be there “stars” up and left without warning. Even when they disrespect the Living Legend regularly.
Why?
Because I love it. Pure Class Wrestling has so much potential to be the revolutionary force in wrestling. I see that potential. PCW is like a lump of wet clay. Something that can be molded and shaped by my hands. Turned into something that can better the future of the entire business. No one realizes that I am the one that loves this place more than anyone. More than Jason Willard. More than Rick Majors. More than Kyle Shane. More than Grimm. More than the damn champion Stormm. More than even the fans that spend their hard-earned money on this glorious company could even know. Sometimes tough love is what's best for everyone, even when they don’t realize it themselves.
Yet, everyone wants to stop the rest of Pandaemonium and me from doing what needs to be done. Sometimes things must change. Sometimes things need to come to an end, so it can be reborn more glorious than before. A phoenix needs to burn so a new one can rise from the ashes. The son of God died so he could be reborn to save the world (if you believe that sort of thing). But this needs to be more like a forest fire. A bright inferno ripping through the woods; burning down old, decaying trees, so new, stronger, ones can grow in the light.
======
He sat in the dark for a long time. He held his head in his hands before his thick fingers ran through his medium-length locks, gripping and pulling at them. Thoughts running rampant through his mind. How could she do this to him, he asked himself. How could she betray him? It wasn’t part of the plan, he thought to himself. To be fair, the plan only involved pretending to be in a relationship with her. The plan was to have her fall for him; keep her away from her ex-husband, and keep him teetering on the edge of misery. The plan was simple enough. They already saw the same neurologists and concussion specialists. He got to know her, using his charm and wit to win her trust. It didn’t hurt he was what most girls called “easy on the eyes”. IT seemed to be a foolproof plan that McLaurin came up with, though he said the Dark One came up with it.
What he didn’t expect was falling for her. She wound being everything he could ask for in a woman. Smart, sexy, funny, kind, and she even likes sports! What started as a faux relationship slowly turned into a true feeling of love for him. Her saying ‘Yes’ when he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife was truly the happiest day of his life. Even better than winning the Superbowl. McLaurin was seemingly happy when he told him of his intentions. He said the girl was a fitting reward for someone who served the Dark One proudly as he did.
He didn’t care though. Once the Dark Lord claimed his rightful spot as ruler of the world, he would be rewarded for being a loyal servant. He and his future bride would be safe and happy while the Black One reshaped the world in his image.
But his whole world came crashing down when he saw her kissing him. One would call it karma for them interfering in someone’s life, but he didn’t believe in that nonsense. What could she even see in him? What did he have that Theo didn’t?
He was a physical specimen. Six-foot five-inches, two-hundred and fifty pounds of rock-solid muscle. Former National Football League linebacker with two world championships under his belt. Lush blonde locks and piercing blue eyes to go along with a chiseled jaw, Theo was very popular amongst the ladies. He could’ve had any girl he wanted, but he chose her!
But she chose him.
That is not even the first time it happened, the ice-cold voice in the back of his mind said.
Theo’s mind is filled with a vision of his fiancee and her ex kissing. Christmas decorations are highlighted in the vision. Theo clenches his eyes shut and violently shakes his head; golden, shoulder-length strands of hair flying wildly. But still, the vision persists.
She betrayed you before, the voice in his head says, the voice like two ancient glaciers rubbing against each other.
No, this can’t be real, Theo thinks to himself.
But it is. I would never lie to you, Brother Theodore.
Theo clenched his large hands into massive fists. How dare she make him look like a fool?
You do not deserve this, Theodore.
No, I don’t, he thought, starting to shake in anger. Theo was better than him in every way. Theo was superior. More superior than that idiot wrestler. And more superior than that stupid girl who didn’t realize he was the best thing to ever happen to her. He would show them. If Theo couldn’t have her, then he’d make sure no one else would. Ever.
Prove your point, Theodore. Have your revenge.
He stood up and stormed out of the room in anger
====================
Gerard sat in the office room of his home. It wasn’t technically an office, he just called it that. It was more like a shrine to himself. Shelves adorned most of the walls, all littered with various replicas of championship titles and accolades he won in his career. Some would call it an impressive amount for a guy who was destined to be an enhancement talent for his career. One of those guys that could go out there, have a good match, then lose. He had so much promise coming out of wrestling school. Everything seemed to just come easy for him. Not just in wrestling but his life. Making friends was easy for Gerard, he never lacked for them. The school came easy enough. Sports was his bread and butter though. Gerry was good at nearly anything that involved athletic prowess. Football, basketball, baseball, you name it and Gerard was probably good enough to be varsity. He even breezed through wrestling school. Yet, when he got to his first big promotion, The future “Hollywood Hero” was rudely awakened. He had maybe one win in his first fifteen matches. The boys in the back whispered about how he wouldn’t amount to anything but a jobber.
Gerard refused to live with that label. He refocused himself and worked his ass off. He took himself from near laughing stock of the company to World champion, winning a multitude of titles in between. That’s why Gerard always has something to prove. It’s why he keeps getting up in the morning and going to work. It’s why, despite him feeling like he doesn’t have it anymore, he continues to push through.
Because he doesn’t ever want to hear someone say to him, “I told you so”.
He sat in the recliner, eyes going from championship to championship on the shelves, his mind mulling over his career and his life. How did he get to this point? He felt like his life was in shambles. His wrestling career was in a downward spiral. The movie offers had dried up. The only girl he ever loved refused to speak to him. His mentor slash father figure was still in a coma. He sold his soul to some demigod and had gotten nothing in return. Gerry was free falling and not in the fun, hold up your lighter, Tom Petty kind.
That’s why the battle royal was fittingly named. This seemed to be his last chance to give his life some direction. Usually, when he had something happen in his life, he could always throw himself headfirst into his career. Right now that was as dark as his personal life. Gerry needed to win this thing. His mission in PCW was the only thing that would distract him from the living hell that his life has become. Gerry needed to win this. And Pure Class Wrestling needed him to win this.
It didn’t matter if it was Razor Blade that got in his way. Or Alexa Black. Or Rick Majors. Or someone that hasn’t even been mentioned yet. Gerard needed to run through all of them. They wanted to be his roadblocks, but he would turn those blocks into stepping stones to the Icemann. Hell, he was Gerard Angelo. The only person to win the Deadly Rumble back to back. The man who took down Kyle Shane when no one else could. He needed to go back to the old Gerard Angelo. The one that wanted, no, needed to prove everyone wrong about him.
A long time ago, Gerard promised himself that he would never let himself feel like he did at the beginning of his career. He was starting to feel that way again, and Gerry has had enough of that. He was going to win the battle royal, or he was going to bring the entire company down around him. He was the one that the company needed anyway. Gerard was the only one that cared about PCW, and it was dying. He was the only one that truly cared about this place. The goddamned World Champion doesn’t even bother to show up for work anymore.
He wouldn’t let the place die. It was his destiny to save. His destiny to rebuild it in his image.
He would save Pure Class Wrestling. He would save everyone.
==================
Kara sat on the couch of her apartment, her eyes red from crying. It seemed to her as if she’s been crying for the past week. She hadn’t talked to her fiance since the day of the “incident”. Not since he told her he saw what she’d done and he was done with her. Since then her life had been a mess. She told her fashion company that she had the flu, so she would be out for a week or two. In reality, she just didn’t have the energy to care about anything. She hasn’t done her makeup in days, her hair is a mess. She had traded her designer clothes and daily exercise for a pink robe and Ben & Jerry’s. She gave up on trying to call Theo after he ignored her call for seemingly the thousandth time. So Kara just wallowed in misery for days.
Why did Gerard have to do this to her? She had told him she was in love with Theo a million times, yet he still tried time and again. A younger Kara would’ve been flattered and enjoyed two men fighting for her attention. But she was a grown woman now, not a little girl, like Gerard, remembered her. Yet, she remembered kissing him back for a second before she came to her senses. Did she still have feelings for her ex-husband? For sure. Gerard was the first man she ever truly loved. Her first real love and he would always have a place in her heart. But she was in love with Theo now.
But even as she said these things to herself, something about Gerard kissing her just felt right. Did she still love him? She knew he still loved her, that much was obvious. But was she just trying to convince herself that she loved Theo because she was afraid of being hurt by Gerard again?
She shook her head, trying to shake those thoughts from her mind. No, no, she said to herself, that wasn’t her life anymore. Her life, and future, was with Theo. If she could ever get him to forgive her that is.
Kara felt the tears welling up in her eyes again when she heard a knock on the door. She wiped his eyes with the fuzzy sleeve of her pink robe and got up, her slippers making nary a sound on the hardwood floor. Kara got to the door and lifted on the tips of her toes to peer through the peephole. Suddenly she moved quicker then she had in weeks, undoing the multiple locks and flinging the door open. Theo stood there, hands in his jean pockets, staring at the ground. She flung herself at him, wrapping her small arm around his waist, burying her face in his abdomen as she sobbed.
“Theo, I am sooo sorry baby,” She said between sobs, her tears staining his solid red t-shirt, “It was a mistake and it’ll never happen again, I swear.”
Theo slowly took her small arms and gently pried them from around his waist. He stepped fully into the apartment and shut the door behind him. Kara wiped tears from her smooth face.
“I already told him never to speak to me again and block his number. It’ll never happen…”
She froze as Theo finally turned and looked at her, his eyes scaring her. His eyes seemed different than their usually playful view. They looked hard and cold, evil almost.
“You’re right Kara, “Theo started in his deep voice, stepping closer to her, “It will never happen again.”
Something about the way he said it combined with his stare, caused Kara to take a step backward as he came near her. He lunged to grab her and she turned to run. That proved to be futile as years of being trained to catch world-class athletes carrying a football let him catch up to her in two strides and grabbed her blonde hair from behind, yanking her down to the floor hard, the back of her head smacking the solid wood floor. Theo stood over her and cracked his knuckles as he gave her a sick smile.
==================
Gerard still sat in the recliner in his office many hours after his initial thoughts. It was nearly dark as he dozed on and off, a bottle of bourbon cradled in his arm like a child. His faint snores were interrupted by his iPhone ringtone going off. Gerard jerked awake, the bottle falling onto the carpet with a dull thud. Luckily he had done a number on the bottle so barely any of the firewater spilled out. Gerry reached into his jeans and pulled his phone out. He squinted as the bright light hit his sleep-filled eyes. The number was none that he recognized. Usually, he would toss it behind him and go back to sleep, but something told him it was important.
Gerard slid the answer bar offer and brought it up to his ear.
“Hello?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Gerry had to pull the phone from his ear as loud yelling of a woman near hysterics shocked him.
“Mrs. DiMarco? Wait, slow down. What happened?”
Gerard's eyes went wide as more muffled yelling came out of the phone. Gerry leaped to his feet, his alcohol-fueled grogginess all but gone.
“I’m on my way as fast as I can!” Gerard said and ran out of the room, his foot kicking the bottle, sending it spinning into the wall with a clank.