Post by Gerard Angelo on Jul 14, 2020 22:54:09 GMT -5
The last few months had been an absolute whirlwind for Gerard Angelo. From fearing the worst when he had heard what happened to Kara for the first time, to extracting revenge on Theo, to winning the Icemann Invitational, to collecting two more pieces of hardware at the Iceys. IT had even been a wild year for him. Like riding a roller coaster, it had been up and down, though recently it had only been going up. Gerard had been doing this long enough that sooner or later, the bottom would drop out and he would be brought back down.
It seemed as if we had reached this point.
Gerard licked his upper lip as he curled the free weights up, his tongue dragging across the coarse stubble, tasting the brine like flavor of sweat as it poured down his face. He exhaled as he dropped the weight down, then breathed in again as he curled the back up, the being on his biceps bulging out as the pumped blood to feed his corded muscles. He was down in the basement of his estate in California, which he spared no expense to turn into a state of the art training facility. Various machines scattered the large area along with weight benches and cardio machines. A wrestling ring set up in the middle of the room dominated most of the attention but it was the free weights set up along a wall length mirror that Gerard focused his attention on. He watched himself in the mirror as he repped out another set, beads of sweat dripping down his shirtless upper body as his well defined muscles writhed under his tanned skin like serpents.
Gerard liked to admire himself in the mirror sometimes. Some might call it vanity, but Gerry worked damn hard to be in such good shape, so he liked to appreciate it. He finished his set and put the weights back into their holder. He takes a look in the mirror, fresh sweat dripping down over his pecs and defined abs. It had been a good month for once. Kara had been released from the hospital, and was recovering at home. Frank and Megan had stayed behind in New York to help care for their daughter. Gerard left for the West Coast to visit Jonathon who, for better or worse, was still in a coma. He had spoken with Maria at the hospital in San Diego. She told him that although Jonathan was stable, there had been no improvement in his condition. Gerry hoped that he would wake up soon. It felt like he’s had a hole in his heart since the accident. The whole thing weighed on Gerry a lot, even more so then what happened to Kara, since there was nothing he could do about this except wait. He could pray, but Gerard was never the religious type.
Then again, he’s spent the last year dealing with elves and old demi-gods, maybe there was an actual God. Gerard mused these thoughts over in his head as he walked over to the treadmill, pulling his iPhone out of the pocket of his basketball shorts. He set the phone down in the treadmill cup holder and turned the machine on. Gerry hopped onto the moving belt and started at a brisk jog. It was the week of Return to Glory, so he needed to be in top physical condition. He didn’t know his opponent yet, but considering he was the reigning TIIT winner and just got voted the best singles star, he assumed it would be someone tough. Maybe they would put him up against Kyle, considering he got jipped out of his North American title match. Or perhaps somebody like Brenna Gordon would be making her return against Gerard. He needed to be ready if that were the case, as she wouldn’t hesitate to take his head off. Hell, it could even be Dominator finally coming back. Gerard would have to be ready for all of these possibilities. Even though he was also voted ‘Most Hated’ by the Faithful, his ‘Best Singles Star’ award let him know that the fans, even though they hated him, had developed a begrudging respect for him. Gerard had done things in Pure Class Wrestling that few others have done. A World Championship reign, an Icemann Tournament victory, and two Deadly Rumble wins. The only other person to do that was Grimm, and when your name is mentioned alongside the ‘Wrestler of the Decade’, no matter how much Gerard disliked him, it meant something.
Gerard kept up his brisk jog as he stared at one of the old Pay-Per-View promotional posters he was on from a long since shut down company. He had a few of them hung up in the training room to both serve as motivation and to remember where he came from. He stared up at the younger version of himself, the cocky smirk on his face having not yet been perfected. Gerard sighed and thought back to the old days. In that picture he wasn’t married and divorced yet, in that picture he didn’t know the existence of magical creatures and ancient wars before recorded times, in that picture he wasn’t the savior of wrestling yet.
Simpler times, he thought to himself as his legs moved on the belt of the treadmill. Suddenly, his smartphone chriped, alerting him of a new text message. Gerry took his phone and looked at it. The message was from PCW management. Geard smirked. Finally he would get to know who he was facing.
He turned the treadmill off and stood in the middle of the belt. He opened the text and read it. Gerard's face turned from a smirk into a scowl, taking his phone and tossing it on the ground with disgust. The corner of the phone case hit the ground first, causing it to bounce a few feet away from the impact point.
“How dare they!”
Gerry clenches his fist, teeth gritted. More disrespect from the company. He thought things were different now, that they had started to see the light, see the truth in his words. Obviously, that thought was wrong.
Razor Blade. That was his opponent. Not at a random Trauma. At a Pay-Per-View. One Pay-Per-View removed from pinning Grimm and winning the most prestigious tournament in the business. From the highest of highs to the lowest of lows it seems.
Was this their way of trying to stop him? By booking him in nonsensical matches against people who shouldn’t be in the ring with him. Trying to make him fed up. Well, that wouldn’t work. So long as he had the open contract in his possession, he still had something to say about the future of this company.
He also wanted to know who in management was in Razor’s corner. The man has six wins in his PCW tenure and he had gotten countless opportunities at the Underground title and just in the last three weeks he had gotten into a number one contenders match for the Genesis title, a World title shot, and now he was facing the winner of the TIIT. How does one with so little success get so many opportunities.
Maybe Gerry was a bit bitter. He had received no hand outs in the time he has been an active competitor in Pure Class Wrestling. His World Championship opportunity he had earned by winning the Deadly Rumble, not by it being given. The TIIT victory he had earned by entering the Last Chance Battle Royal, not getting placed in the tournament. While he had to scratch and claw for everything he had earned, others around the company were just given things. Guys like Loki come out of retirement to hand themselves North American title matches, ruining months worth of build between two full time stars. The World Champ gets months off for no good reason then gets to face Jason Willard for the title because they both feel like it.
And all of these nostalgia acts in championship matches. Living a Legacy was an apt name for the event, because PCW only cared about the past. This was the whole thing Gerard was fighting against. There needed to be some new blood in the title pictures. Pushing people who were relevant in the late 2000s was a finite resource.
And while the same old faces crowded the top of the card, Gerard and the rest of the younger talent were forced to toil at the bottom.
“You know they really do not respect you, right?” asked a voice behind Gerard. Gerry turned to see a man in a suit seated with his legs crossed on a weight bench. He looked regal, with a strong chin and pointed nose, jet black hair slicked back. He grinned a toothy grin at the Hollywood Hero.
“Ba’lal”, Gerry said, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Ba’lal stood up, rubbing his hands over his suit to smooth out the wrinkles. Gerard had gotten used to him appearing out of nowhere, in various forms. It was amazing how much power he had gained back in such a short amount of time. Not long ago, Ba’lal could only show up in dreams. Now Gerry felt like he could do almost anything, the hair on his neck standing up in the presence of the awesome power of the demi-god.
“I’m here to help.” said Ba’lal, a smirk crossing his thin lips, “I felt you become angry, and rightfully so.”
Ba’lal moved closer to Gerard, smoothly, almost like he was gliding rather than walking. This form of Ba’lal’s is tall and thin, combined with the way he moved, would seemingly give away the fact he’s not of this world. The creature stops just in front of Gerry.
“The company does not respect you, because they do not think your message has merit. I feel your pain, because we are similar in a way. I, too, wanted to change things for the better once. And for my efforts I was locked away in another dimension.”
Ba’lal reached out and placed a hand on Gerry’s broad shoulder. Gerard looks at him, giving a nod.
“That is why you need to prove a point, Electi. Make an example out of this Razor Blade fellow. Show to the rest of your peers why you need to be taken seriously. Show them that your change needs to happen.”
Gerard clenches his fist again, turning from Ba’lal.
“It’s just so frustrating,” Gerard says, his voice seeping with anger, “I should be wrestling for titles and accolades at big events, not wrestling the company punchline.”
Ba’lal gives a smirk, one that he can’t help but to show his fangs. The more anger and hate that seeps into Gerard, the easier it would be for him to finally execute his final phase. He needed to keep pushing him towards the edge of the abyss.
“Exactly.” Says Ba’lal, raising his hand and making a fist, “That is why you must make an example of this Razor. Cripple and maim him, make sure everyone who opposes you, fears you.”
Gerard stared at the ground for many moments as the words of Ba’lal echoed in his mind. Did he really need to go through such drastic measures? It seems as though Gerard would have to at this point. It always seemed like his tenure in PCW was one step forward and two steps back. His anger gripped him again as he turned back towards Ba’lal.
“You’re right. I need to make a point that I need to be taken seriously. I thought I had done that already, but this clear lack of respect can’t be ignored.”
“Splendid,” said Ba’lal, giving another toothy grin, “I eagerly await to see the end of the career of the one called Razor Blade. Now then, I shall leave you to your training, Electi. I am a busy god.”
Before Gerard can say anything, Ba’lal dissipates into a cloud of black mist before fading away entirely. Gerard shakes his head, wondering how much more weird stuff he could see in his life. He decided to get back on the treadmill and run while he thought of ways to make an example out of Razor. But he is interrupted by the buzzing of his phone on the cement floor. Gerry looks around for a second before he finds it and picks it up. Turning the phone in his hand, looking at the screen. It’s a facetime request from Kara. Gerard forgets his anger and immediately answers the call. He’s greeted by the smiling face of Kara. Her face is healing very well and, although it is still a bit swollen, she’s looking more and more of how she did before the attack. The doctors and hospital did a commendable job.
“Hey!” Kara says with a beaming smile. Gerard can’t help but smile himself.
“Hey there, gorgeous. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m doing alright.” She says brushing her blonde hair out of her face. “I’m starting to feel like my old self, I’m hoping I can go back to work soon.”
Gerard gives a laugh.
“Well don’t over exert yourself, you still need to recover.”
“I know,” she says with a sigh, “To be honest, my mom is driving me crazy. She keeps hovering over me. I had to tell her I was going to take a nap so I could have some time alone to give you this call.”
Gerry cracks a little smile, but in his mind he couldn’t blame Megan for being a bit over protective of Kara right now. He kept these thoughts to himself because he knew how independent Kara was. He knew having to rely on anyone, even her parents, was driving her crazy.
“So, how are you doing?” Kara asked, snapping Gerard back into the present. Gerard wanted to blurt out how he had just been told to end the career of his opponent at Living a Legacy, but he decided that it might be a little much.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, really?”
Gerard nods.
“Well I saw PCW post the card for the Pay-Per-View on Twitter, and I saw who you’re facing. So stop lying to me Gerry, and tell me how you really feel.”
Gerard puts the phone down at his side and sighs before bringing it back to his face.
“If you want me to be honest, Kara, I’m frustrated. I’m facing fuckin’ Razor at one of the biggest events of the year, shortly after having some of the two best months of my career. I feel disrespected. I’m the reigning Icemann winner and the current ‘Best Singles’ star.”
Gerard lets out an exasperated sigh.
“I should be wrestling guys on my level, Kara. Not goes with fewer wins then fingers.”
They are both silent for a bit before Kara speaks.
“Did you ever stop to think that it’s not disrespect, but the fact that some of the people in charge respect your abilities enough that they are relying on you to make Razor interesting?”
This stops Gerard in his tracks as Kara keeps going.
“Listen, Razor might be the biggest loser, but they obviously see something in him. They had him wrestle the World champ. While it was a rather forgettable match, do you really think they were happy with the face of the company not making whoever he wrestled relevant?”
“I-I’ve never thought of it that way.”
Kara smirks through the phone and nods.
“Maybe instead of looking at it as disrespect, take it as an opportunity to stick it to Stormm. Does something that he couldn’t, and make Razor Blade relevant.”
Gerard suddenly smiles.
“You know what? You’re right.”
“I usually am.”
They both share a laugh and go on talking about their days to each other before Kara needs to go rest.
==========
Ba’lal, if he could scowl in his true form, would have as he watched Gerard and Kara interact. He had spent a great deal of time and effort to instill hate and anger into the heart of Gerard, and this human girl basically washed it away with one conversation. The great beast tapped a long black claw against a rock, the sound echoing out through the dark, damp, cavern he was confined to. This girl was going to be a problem he realized. Maybe he should have just let Theodore end her life instead of helping the Electi.
She would need to be dealt with.
It seemed as if we had reached this point.
Gerard licked his upper lip as he curled the free weights up, his tongue dragging across the coarse stubble, tasting the brine like flavor of sweat as it poured down his face. He exhaled as he dropped the weight down, then breathed in again as he curled the back up, the being on his biceps bulging out as the pumped blood to feed his corded muscles. He was down in the basement of his estate in California, which he spared no expense to turn into a state of the art training facility. Various machines scattered the large area along with weight benches and cardio machines. A wrestling ring set up in the middle of the room dominated most of the attention but it was the free weights set up along a wall length mirror that Gerard focused his attention on. He watched himself in the mirror as he repped out another set, beads of sweat dripping down his shirtless upper body as his well defined muscles writhed under his tanned skin like serpents.
Gerard liked to admire himself in the mirror sometimes. Some might call it vanity, but Gerry worked damn hard to be in such good shape, so he liked to appreciate it. He finished his set and put the weights back into their holder. He takes a look in the mirror, fresh sweat dripping down over his pecs and defined abs. It had been a good month for once. Kara had been released from the hospital, and was recovering at home. Frank and Megan had stayed behind in New York to help care for their daughter. Gerard left for the West Coast to visit Jonathon who, for better or worse, was still in a coma. He had spoken with Maria at the hospital in San Diego. She told him that although Jonathan was stable, there had been no improvement in his condition. Gerry hoped that he would wake up soon. It felt like he’s had a hole in his heart since the accident. The whole thing weighed on Gerry a lot, even more so then what happened to Kara, since there was nothing he could do about this except wait. He could pray, but Gerard was never the religious type.
Then again, he’s spent the last year dealing with elves and old demi-gods, maybe there was an actual God. Gerard mused these thoughts over in his head as he walked over to the treadmill, pulling his iPhone out of the pocket of his basketball shorts. He set the phone down in the treadmill cup holder and turned the machine on. Gerry hopped onto the moving belt and started at a brisk jog. It was the week of Return to Glory, so he needed to be in top physical condition. He didn’t know his opponent yet, but considering he was the reigning TIIT winner and just got voted the best singles star, he assumed it would be someone tough. Maybe they would put him up against Kyle, considering he got jipped out of his North American title match. Or perhaps somebody like Brenna Gordon would be making her return against Gerard. He needed to be ready if that were the case, as she wouldn’t hesitate to take his head off. Hell, it could even be Dominator finally coming back. Gerard would have to be ready for all of these possibilities. Even though he was also voted ‘Most Hated’ by the Faithful, his ‘Best Singles Star’ award let him know that the fans, even though they hated him, had developed a begrudging respect for him. Gerard had done things in Pure Class Wrestling that few others have done. A World Championship reign, an Icemann Tournament victory, and two Deadly Rumble wins. The only other person to do that was Grimm, and when your name is mentioned alongside the ‘Wrestler of the Decade’, no matter how much Gerard disliked him, it meant something.
Gerard kept up his brisk jog as he stared at one of the old Pay-Per-View promotional posters he was on from a long since shut down company. He had a few of them hung up in the training room to both serve as motivation and to remember where he came from. He stared up at the younger version of himself, the cocky smirk on his face having not yet been perfected. Gerard sighed and thought back to the old days. In that picture he wasn’t married and divorced yet, in that picture he didn’t know the existence of magical creatures and ancient wars before recorded times, in that picture he wasn’t the savior of wrestling yet.
Simpler times, he thought to himself as his legs moved on the belt of the treadmill. Suddenly, his smartphone chriped, alerting him of a new text message. Gerry took his phone and looked at it. The message was from PCW management. Geard smirked. Finally he would get to know who he was facing.
He turned the treadmill off and stood in the middle of the belt. He opened the text and read it. Gerard's face turned from a smirk into a scowl, taking his phone and tossing it on the ground with disgust. The corner of the phone case hit the ground first, causing it to bounce a few feet away from the impact point.
“How dare they!”
Gerry clenches his fist, teeth gritted. More disrespect from the company. He thought things were different now, that they had started to see the light, see the truth in his words. Obviously, that thought was wrong.
Razor Blade. That was his opponent. Not at a random Trauma. At a Pay-Per-View. One Pay-Per-View removed from pinning Grimm and winning the most prestigious tournament in the business. From the highest of highs to the lowest of lows it seems.
Was this their way of trying to stop him? By booking him in nonsensical matches against people who shouldn’t be in the ring with him. Trying to make him fed up. Well, that wouldn’t work. So long as he had the open contract in his possession, he still had something to say about the future of this company.
He also wanted to know who in management was in Razor’s corner. The man has six wins in his PCW tenure and he had gotten countless opportunities at the Underground title and just in the last three weeks he had gotten into a number one contenders match for the Genesis title, a World title shot, and now he was facing the winner of the TIIT. How does one with so little success get so many opportunities.
Maybe Gerry was a bit bitter. He had received no hand outs in the time he has been an active competitor in Pure Class Wrestling. His World Championship opportunity he had earned by winning the Deadly Rumble, not by it being given. The TIIT victory he had earned by entering the Last Chance Battle Royal, not getting placed in the tournament. While he had to scratch and claw for everything he had earned, others around the company were just given things. Guys like Loki come out of retirement to hand themselves North American title matches, ruining months worth of build between two full time stars. The World Champ gets months off for no good reason then gets to face Jason Willard for the title because they both feel like it.
And all of these nostalgia acts in championship matches. Living a Legacy was an apt name for the event, because PCW only cared about the past. This was the whole thing Gerard was fighting against. There needed to be some new blood in the title pictures. Pushing people who were relevant in the late 2000s was a finite resource.
And while the same old faces crowded the top of the card, Gerard and the rest of the younger talent were forced to toil at the bottom.
“You know they really do not respect you, right?” asked a voice behind Gerard. Gerry turned to see a man in a suit seated with his legs crossed on a weight bench. He looked regal, with a strong chin and pointed nose, jet black hair slicked back. He grinned a toothy grin at the Hollywood Hero.
“Ba’lal”, Gerry said, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Ba’lal stood up, rubbing his hands over his suit to smooth out the wrinkles. Gerard had gotten used to him appearing out of nowhere, in various forms. It was amazing how much power he had gained back in such a short amount of time. Not long ago, Ba’lal could only show up in dreams. Now Gerry felt like he could do almost anything, the hair on his neck standing up in the presence of the awesome power of the demi-god.
“I’m here to help.” said Ba’lal, a smirk crossing his thin lips, “I felt you become angry, and rightfully so.”
Ba’lal moved closer to Gerard, smoothly, almost like he was gliding rather than walking. This form of Ba’lal’s is tall and thin, combined with the way he moved, would seemingly give away the fact he’s not of this world. The creature stops just in front of Gerry.
“The company does not respect you, because they do not think your message has merit. I feel your pain, because we are similar in a way. I, too, wanted to change things for the better once. And for my efforts I was locked away in another dimension.”
Ba’lal reached out and placed a hand on Gerry’s broad shoulder. Gerard looks at him, giving a nod.
“That is why you need to prove a point, Electi. Make an example out of this Razor Blade fellow. Show to the rest of your peers why you need to be taken seriously. Show them that your change needs to happen.”
Gerard clenches his fist again, turning from Ba’lal.
“It’s just so frustrating,” Gerard says, his voice seeping with anger, “I should be wrestling for titles and accolades at big events, not wrestling the company punchline.”
Ba’lal gives a smirk, one that he can’t help but to show his fangs. The more anger and hate that seeps into Gerard, the easier it would be for him to finally execute his final phase. He needed to keep pushing him towards the edge of the abyss.
“Exactly.” Says Ba’lal, raising his hand and making a fist, “That is why you must make an example of this Razor. Cripple and maim him, make sure everyone who opposes you, fears you.”
Gerard stared at the ground for many moments as the words of Ba’lal echoed in his mind. Did he really need to go through such drastic measures? It seems as though Gerard would have to at this point. It always seemed like his tenure in PCW was one step forward and two steps back. His anger gripped him again as he turned back towards Ba’lal.
“You’re right. I need to make a point that I need to be taken seriously. I thought I had done that already, but this clear lack of respect can’t be ignored.”
“Splendid,” said Ba’lal, giving another toothy grin, “I eagerly await to see the end of the career of the one called Razor Blade. Now then, I shall leave you to your training, Electi. I am a busy god.”
Before Gerard can say anything, Ba’lal dissipates into a cloud of black mist before fading away entirely. Gerard shakes his head, wondering how much more weird stuff he could see in his life. He decided to get back on the treadmill and run while he thought of ways to make an example out of Razor. But he is interrupted by the buzzing of his phone on the cement floor. Gerry looks around for a second before he finds it and picks it up. Turning the phone in his hand, looking at the screen. It’s a facetime request from Kara. Gerard forgets his anger and immediately answers the call. He’s greeted by the smiling face of Kara. Her face is healing very well and, although it is still a bit swollen, she’s looking more and more of how she did before the attack. The doctors and hospital did a commendable job.
“Hey!” Kara says with a beaming smile. Gerard can’t help but smile himself.
“Hey there, gorgeous. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m doing alright.” She says brushing her blonde hair out of her face. “I’m starting to feel like my old self, I’m hoping I can go back to work soon.”
Gerard gives a laugh.
“Well don’t over exert yourself, you still need to recover.”
“I know,” she says with a sigh, “To be honest, my mom is driving me crazy. She keeps hovering over me. I had to tell her I was going to take a nap so I could have some time alone to give you this call.”
Gerry cracks a little smile, but in his mind he couldn’t blame Megan for being a bit over protective of Kara right now. He kept these thoughts to himself because he knew how independent Kara was. He knew having to rely on anyone, even her parents, was driving her crazy.
“So, how are you doing?” Kara asked, snapping Gerard back into the present. Gerard wanted to blurt out how he had just been told to end the career of his opponent at Living a Legacy, but he decided that it might be a little much.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, really?”
Gerard nods.
“Well I saw PCW post the card for the Pay-Per-View on Twitter, and I saw who you’re facing. So stop lying to me Gerry, and tell me how you really feel.”
Gerard puts the phone down at his side and sighs before bringing it back to his face.
“If you want me to be honest, Kara, I’m frustrated. I’m facing fuckin’ Razor at one of the biggest events of the year, shortly after having some of the two best months of my career. I feel disrespected. I’m the reigning Icemann winner and the current ‘Best Singles’ star.”
Gerard lets out an exasperated sigh.
“I should be wrestling guys on my level, Kara. Not goes with fewer wins then fingers.”
They are both silent for a bit before Kara speaks.
“Did you ever stop to think that it’s not disrespect, but the fact that some of the people in charge respect your abilities enough that they are relying on you to make Razor interesting?”
This stops Gerard in his tracks as Kara keeps going.
“Listen, Razor might be the biggest loser, but they obviously see something in him. They had him wrestle the World champ. While it was a rather forgettable match, do you really think they were happy with the face of the company not making whoever he wrestled relevant?”
“I-I’ve never thought of it that way.”
Kara smirks through the phone and nods.
“Maybe instead of looking at it as disrespect, take it as an opportunity to stick it to Stormm. Does something that he couldn’t, and make Razor Blade relevant.”
Gerard suddenly smiles.
“You know what? You’re right.”
“I usually am.”
They both share a laugh and go on talking about their days to each other before Kara needs to go rest.
==========
Ba’lal, if he could scowl in his true form, would have as he watched Gerard and Kara interact. He had spent a great deal of time and effort to instill hate and anger into the heart of Gerard, and this human girl basically washed it away with one conversation. The great beast tapped a long black claw against a rock, the sound echoing out through the dark, damp, cavern he was confined to. This girl was going to be a problem he realized. Maybe he should have just let Theodore end her life instead of helping the Electi.
She would need to be dealt with.