Post by Chelsea Armstrong on Mar 13, 2015 10:36:08 GMT -5
**Scene One...and only**
“How many times have I stood before you…how many times have I struggled to find something new to say in order to get an edge over each and every opponent? How many times have I looked in the eyes of defeat and went home to cry and wallow in my own self-pity? How many times have I been within an arm’s reach…no…it’s been in my finger tips and I’ve slipped…fallen…crashed to my own demise and then been forced to watch the gold roll away into the distance. Too many…far too many for my liking. They say someone who is passionate about what they do is the person, who gets most upset at the smallest of losses, I think it’s safe to say that statement is true. Too many times have I gotten pulled into the simplest of things…things that I didn’t have to be involved in but felt something pulling me towards it…and then I was the one left on the ground in a puddle of blood and tears to pick up the broken pieces. Too many times in my life have I been the one left blindsided, punched with such a force that the air was ripped from my lungs and I was forced to stare into the eyes of something…someone...who doesn’t believe I should even be alive. Do you know that torture? The torture of giving someone your everything, showing them the deepest recesses of your mind and having them laugh in your face and run away leaving you open and empty. It’s not a good feeling…”
No fancy scene is needed today, no elaborate backstory to where I am, no candles to burn the pictures of my opponents, no mesmerizing winter scenery, nothing but me and the four concrete walls of the room I sit in. My location isn’t important, but you might want to allow your eyes to scan over the details of my being. As you can see cuts scatter themselves along my fair skin, breaking open old scars, creating new ones the longer they sit untreated, moreso take in the cold stare in my eyes. The only movement they create is a blink now and then that allows me to keep my gaze focused on the nothingness in front of me.
“Do you know how it feels to have the glass floor of your career be shattered in an instant? To glance down and see someone throwing stones until one comes in hard enough to shatter everything and send you falling, flaying your arms trying to stop yourself from hitting concrete. You grasp hold of the edge of a window; peering in your able to see those people you always looked down on…one of which was the holder of the stone. You pull yourself in through the window knowing you’re going to have to fight to stay there…you get lucky once or twice, you start feeling that confidence again, too quickly you turn your back allowing one of them to run at you pushing you back out the window. You fall, this time faster, having no time to grab anything you hit the concrete with such force that you can’t breathe, you can’t think, you wish your feeling of pain was as numb as everything else but no…of course that’s the one thing they allow to keep living. You’re lying there, no longer looking up…that dream has sailed…you know there’s no way you can climb back up to where you were, the pain your feeling is too much, and they know that. They thrive on that, the ones who pushed you from that window stare down at your body, laughing at your demise as the one who threw the stone is climbing the stairs, then standing on your glass floor…he’s on top of the world and you’re in the lowest of lows…or at least you thought you were.”
Taking a deep breath it comes out staggered as I still can’t move, my arms act as if they are tied to the chair I’m sitting in but no bonds are to be shown against my body. Nothing physical is keeping me where I am…I’m way past physical pain and it’s showing now brighter than ever as my eyes still have not wavered from the spot on the wall that holds my attention.
“You believe that nothing in the world could take you any lower than you already are…you have spots now and then, spots that pull you to your knees and begin to give you hope but soon you’re back lying on the ground as even your closest friends are forced to look down upon you. There is no more happiness in you, you force a smile for those that need to see it…your boyfriend…your daughter…a best friend…but after a while even they can see through your façade. They act as if they don’t notice, just allow you to go about your life, allowing you to lie on the hard ground and reap the joys of being better than one…just one…that’s all you need. That’s not true though. While you lie there you roll onto your back, staring up into a sun so bright you’re forced to squint your eyes but you don’t allow yourself to close them completely…no…you have to see them…him…the one who caused it all, the one who ruined everything. It’s the sickest moment your stomach will ever experience as you stare into his eyes, take in his condescending smile, hear that voice that causes blood to trickle out of the corners of your mouth at how venomous it has become to you. You want to take your place back…you want him to be the one to be pushed from that window, to go into a freefall from that highest platform…but it can’t happen…there’s no way you will ever get back to where you need to be to make that happen…but then…then he himself, whether out of pity or the fact that he just wants to end you for good he puts you against himself. In a match that one would feel would give him every advantage possible…but he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does…they don’t know you…and he just made a fatal mistake…he gave you your match. A match that you have excelled at over the years…a match that you have requested time and time again and had opponents of his level deny…a match…that is responsible for over half the scars gracing your body.”
Allowing myself to move for the first time since I turned on the camera I only do enough to stand and move to the barred window high on the back wall making me stand on a box in order to reach the warmth of the sun. I only stand there for a moment, just enough to watch the color return back to my hands before I sit back down on the chair, returning my focus to the spot on the wall as my eyes are now glassed over.
“He thinks he’s figured you out…that he’s pulled a fast one and has pulled the upper hand. He places an unescapable cage around your paradise, it’s only there to inflict more pain…it make sure you are trapped within those confines with him…but he doesn’t think that it works both ways. He doesn’t know that you’ve been through worse…that a fight with him isn’t the worst thing to happen in your career…that even after the fight you’ll never be friends with him like the group wants you to be. He didn’t just shatter the glass ceiling of your career and send you falling to the pavement…he went one step further and picked up the broken pieces…putting them in a bowl to be used against you at a later date. It all begins to make sense; he knew what he was doing all along. There was no guess work…no spur of the moment decision…he’d planned this…he’d planned all of it. The look he gave you when he told you he’d end you…there was months of planning behind that gaze…that smirk…premeditated murder at its finest…and he wasn’t done there. That just made it even better for you though…it was so fitting…he’d shown that he’d done his research…in order to pick that match he had to of looked up things from your past…he knew worse things about you than most knew at this point…no doubt passes your mind that he’ll use it against you…what would be the fun if he didn’t after all?
A hint of soft laughter goes over my lips as I stare now at the floor, bringing my hands together while resting my hands on my legs the dirt on the floor swirls allowing my eyes to have something to follow as a deep breath leaves my lips.
“But he still doesn’t know enough…he doesn’t know everything…if he had he wouldn’t of given you the match he had. He doesn’t know that the deadliest Tai Pei Deathmatch you ever saw you weren’t apart of…he doesn’t know that it started your obsession with pain…he doesn’t know the effects of being ringside…and being forced to watch a loved one teetered on the edge of death. To watch death overcome him and not being able to get into the cage to help him…to see the cage lifted only too late…he doesn’t know that pain…you know he’ll say that doesn’t matter…that was all in the past and this is the now. He’ll say he’s seen his fair share of pain…that this will be no different…but he couldn’t be further from the truth. Pain tolerance works in more than one way…he might be able to withstand enough pain on the outside…but when you’re becoming numb to pain on the inside…physical pain is nothing but an injection of heroin into your veins. When you stop feeling on the inside you’ll do anything you can to get that feeling back in your body...your scars tell stories of exactly that. Does he know how many appeared on your body after he was killed…after your marriage failed…after your relationship broke with the glass of your career…who would know the feeling of glass cutting into your skin could be more than painful…but something to relish.”
Deep breaths leave my lips as I can feel the tainted salt water flowing from my eyes, even I know that you can only hold it back for so long. As it lands drip…drop…drip…drop…it meshes with the dirt, bringing mud to the surface as I fall to my knees forcing the chair behind me as I place my hands in the mud making molds of my fingers similar to that of a child. Watching it rise between each limb…the cold squishy feeling it gives off…I find myself not moving, just staring at the now tainted dirt…my emotions which are all muddied on the inside turning into their physical form on the outside.
“You know…this man…someone who has walked these halls for long enough to be considered one of the best…a man who is one belt away from holding every championship twice…every one but yours. A championship brought back for the cold hard reason of them not wanting him to have it…of them knowing he doesn’t deserve it…he’ll say again that the system is against him, that they’re jealous…that you’re jealous. But who is jealousy really eating at when he makes your match for your title…who is the one that is lying away at night knowing he’s so close to making history…but that a woman, a girl, a chick is the main thing that stands in his way. How long has it ate at him that when he wasn’t able to defeat Corey Black for that very title…you came along and got a win over both of them? Those are the questions you find most important…more valuable. You have beaten him time and time again…a cheap shot does damage yes…but you know men like him. He’ll say win’s mean nothing…that he doesn’t care what happens as long as he makes you hurt…but that’s not true…no…wins matter this week. You know he’s only facing you to get that championship…to prove them wrong…to prove you wrong. But how many times can one person try so hard and fail before they begin to look foolish…something tells you that this week we will get the answer.”
Laughing to myself I continue writing almost subconsciously into the mud, my fingers move with staggered strokes showing signs of abrupt movements and jagged cuts. While beginning to hum to myself my hair falls covering my face from view as the sudden darkness created brings on a new sense of closedness.
“Mr. Price says your end is coming…but that can’t be true…if that was true why did one of his best friends pull you into their little group? He had a different plan in mind…they always plan ahead…they always know what is going to happen next…that is why they wanted you, grabbed you when they could. They know you like to do that…they know you like to have the upper hand and take people by storm…but even they don’t know the full extent to which you’re willing to go…that you have went. A Tai Pei Deathmatch has always been your favorite…and why is that…is it the fact that you love the feeling of glass raking your skin…cutting until blood is pouring from the wounds. Maybe it’s when you’re on the other side and you can watch your hand forcing blood from the body of another victim. Maybe it’s the joy of getting to run your fingers through the glistening shards while you’re standing backstage….anticipating the moment when they will be attached to your hands…maybe it’s the fact that now once again a cage will stare you in the face. No exit…no doors…no opened ceiling…nothing but being able to stare into the face of a man who has been trying for months to take you out and now he is being forced to see you as a partner…but we both know that’s a lie. He doesn’t see you as a partner any more than you see him as one. No matter how many times you’re being told you have to work out your differences…no matter how many times people try to say you’re weaker because you don’t get along…no matter how many times you stare into his eyes and see what could be a good man under all that idiocy…you know it can’t happen. Maybe they’re right though…maybe once you’re both hanging on to the edge of death, taking swings that hit nothing in sight…laying in your own puddle of blood only after you make sure he is doing the same right beside you. Maybe when they are forced to end the match because winning truly does become something so trivial to what you’re going through…maybe…just maybe your views will change and he will look different to you…but until then…until then he’s nothing more but another person who has to be put down…who has to become the step to push you back up where you belong…to fix that glass ceiling he broke by putting the pieces back together with his own blood.”
Staring down at the drawing in front of me even I almost expect to see a death threat to Price…maybe the Cruiserweight Championship…maybe even nothing but stick figures lying in blood. But apparently my mind had its own idea of what I really need to be focusing on right now. Something I know I need to take of if I want to make sure I’m able to give my all to this match. Something I’m going to have to look in the eye before I know for sure I can defend my title with everything I need. The answer should become clear but it needs to words spoken as I move with ease from the room taking my body back to the first place I think he will be…where they will be.
Walking up to the hotel I know I must look like something else as tears have smeared my makeup and mud is caked to my hands and clothes, I barely notice the stares though as I break into a run after seeing Ice’s friend PJ walking out of the front door. I already knew I didn’t want to face him but not knowing was worse than knowing…wasn’t it?...
“PJ! PJ please!”
Whether he didn’t hear me or just ignored me I’ll probably never know but I do know the car he climbed into speed away rather quick, a sickening feeling was sitting in the pit of my stomach as deep down I knew what was going on…but would you want to face what I was getting ready to? Slowing making my way up stairs to my room the sideways glances did nothing to me…something told me that was only the beginning of everything now. Walking through the door I see what I had expected yet dreaded at the same time. Everything is clean…gone…my bag sits at the foot of the bed where I had left it before along with Shelley’s things as it looks like Gen had taken her out for the day. Nothing else was there though…he had taken everything…but I couldn’t accept that.
“Ice, please…look I’m sorry for everything…just talk to me.”
Even as I yell out his name I know it’s no use…there’s no one else here but me…and something tells me he doesn’t plan to come back any time soon. Not able to control it any long I feel my legs shaking as they give out ending me to the floor at the foot of my bed narrowly missing my bag. Tears stream from my eyes faster than before…like two waterfalls leading to nowhere. More is caused as I glance down into my bag seeing he’d missed one item of clothing…his white t-shirt…one I’d slept in whenever he had to be gone…in my heart I’d hoped he done it on purpose…but a part of me wasn’t sure. Had I really done something that wrong…had I really been the cause of his defeat…of him losing what mattered the most. But then again I’d heard what he had to say…he hadn’t been here all week, it was only a matter of time before one of them picked up his things…but that didn’t mean my confusion was any less.
“I’m sorry Ice…I’m sorry for everything I caused…I’m sorry for you losing your title…for you being all alone. I know we hadn’t been the same since you lost that belt. Even the nights alone didn’t ease the pain. I’m sorry I rolled over and acted like I was asleep while you laid there staring at the ceiling wondering what went wrong. I’m sorry I couldn’t say the right things when you asked what had went wrong…how did Cairo beat you. I’m sorry I didn’t take your advice and just ignore everyone when Jayson put me out of action and I refused to let it rest. I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with…I know I can be a handful and sometimes you needed more than someone to lie with in bed. I’m sorry I had to have my attention scattered at times when you needed someone...when you were hanging onto the limbs of confusion and not knowing where you belonged anymore. I didn’t ignore your pleas on purpose. I know you can’t look at me the same anymore…”
My voice breaks all through my speaking as I can’t help but pull his shirt to my face, burying my face into it as with my luck I can still smell his cologne…a part of me hopes that if I sit here long enough and wish hard enough that he will walk through that door and wrap me in his arms…telling me like he used to that it’s ok…that we’ll make it through this…but maybe that’s our problem…maybe we’re tried to work through too much…too much pain…
“I deserve it all…I deserve the comments thrown my way the night you walked out the door…we both knew it was coming, that it was only a matter of time. A part of me hated you…feeling you loved that championship more than you loved me…your comments only set that more in stone. You couldn’t sleep after you lost that belt…I tried to help you…maybe not as much as I should have but I tried! Dammit Ice I tried to help you! Maybe everything past people said towards us was always true…did gold really mean more to us than a relationship? Is that what made us work? What about all the damn times you had that championship and I had nothing! I still stood by you! I cheered you on and supported you when deep down yes I wanted that title…who wouldn’t! But I pushed that aside and made sure you were on top of your game. One time you fail…one time and you lose that title but it wasn’t the same then was it? No…no you couldn’t look me in the eye after I retained my championship! You couldn’t look at me seeing that I had survived while you hadn’t! Maybe they were always right about the jealousy with us…but they had the wrong person picked!”
Staring at the now dirty thirty in my hands I find my tears of hurt and pain being replaced with tears of pure anger. Grabbing the collar of the shirt I pull as hard as I can sending the sounds of tearing fabric through the air as within seconds I'm staring down at the now two pieces of cotton material....deep down I know I'll be sewing it back together later but in this moment...I'd be lying to say it hadn't felt good.
"I miss you Ice...I'd be lying to say otherwise. But maybe there was more to this relationship than we both understood...maybe there was an unhealthy amount of guilt and jealousy between us that we tried to simply mask. I'm not saying my feelings towards you weren't real...you can't fake that...but maybe...just maybe there's more to us than even we know. We'd only known each other for a few months before we began traveling together...maybe we got into more than we were ready for. But if in your heart you truly believe I would abandon you...sabotage you...then it's clear you never really knew me at all..."
The words are cut from my mouth as I hear the door beginning to open, glancing towards it the quick shot of purple tells me it’s Shelley as I stand wiping myself up the best I can and trying to recompose myself. She’s already been confused this week, telling her he wasn’t coming back was going to be a hard task to do. She was young and wouldn’t hold bad what she really felt…I knew she blamed me. But after all she’s been through could you blame her? She walks through the door as it closes behind her…I see Gen doesn’t want to be around us anymore either, something always told me she was only after Ice anyway.
“Hey baby girl.”
“Mommy!...why are you all dirty?”
“I was playing outside, I haven’t had a chance to clean up yet, how was your day?”
Her actions surprise me causing a small laugh to fall as she grabs my hand pulling me towards the bathroom.
“This way mommy.”
She grabs a rag off the sink before going over to the bathtub and turning the water on seeing as she’s not yet tall enough to reach the knobs on the counter. Getting the rag wet she forgets to wring it out, but I don’t say anything, as she pulls on my shirt having me sit on the floor. She then begins to run the rag over my face as I can feel fresh tears coming out.
“What’s wrong mommy?”
“Oh nothing sweetie, I’m just happy to have a little girl as brave as you are.”
Leaning down she places a kiss on my forehead before turning around and sitting on my lap. Taking my hands in hers she begins to clean those off too as I can feel water hitting the floor from the rag in her hands.
“When is Ice coming home?”
A lump forms in my throat as I knew this was coming but didn’t want to have to face it. I knew she deserved the truth but what if it only made it worse…what if she was mad at me over it? I couldn’t not tell her though…I mean even if I didn’t she’d find out soon enough. Taking in a deep full breath I turn her on my lap so she’s facing me as I brush the hair from her face seeing those bright green eyes looking back at me.
“Ice had to take a little trip; he’s going to be gone for a while.”
“Where did he go?”
“Well…I don’t know sweetie, he didn’t tell mommy.”
“Oh…he’ll come back though…right?”
“Of course, Ice just needs some time away. But maybe that’s a good thing, that means me and you can spend more time together.”
“Definitely! And how would you like to be able to sleep in mommy’s bed again?”
Her eyes light up causing me to laugh and smile as I know she always liked that idea. What little child wouldn’t like sleeping in a bed as huge as the ones at hotels, it felt like a castle to her and she’d never turn that down. So far it was going smooth…and a part of me hoped it would stay this way while the other knew I wouldn’t be that lucky. With time she’d begin asking more questions about Ice…about why he hadn’t come home yet. For now I hope it stayed away as I had no idea what I would be able to tell her…you couldn’t really look a child in the face and tell her that Ice was filled with jealously and had to leave mommy.
“Did Gen tell you what time it was when she dropped you off?”
“Ok, what would you say that I finish getting cleaned up and we can have a movie night. I’ll order in some food and you can choose the movie.”
“Really, monsters? Isn’t it scary?”
Her laughter fills the words coming from her lips as she runs and jumps on the bed leaving me alone to clean up, making sure she’s safe in the room I close the bathroom door to finish where she started on getting rid of the dirt and mud from my hands. Staring at myself in the mirror I begin to worry how the black streaks on my cheeks didn’t raise any type of alarm for her….maybe they too had become too normal for her to question. Shaking my head I know I need to get out one last word before I allow any thought of WCF to leave my mind to be able to focus sully on my daughter in the next room. Pulling out the camera from the bag I had dragged along with me in here I position it on my hand before hitting record as I focus it towards the mirror.
“So many thoughts are filling my head right now Jayson…not all of them are good…but not all of them are bad. You see my life is hell right now…literal hell. You’ll laugh at that, saying I don’t know the meaning of hell until I step into that cage with you…but you’re wrong. The fact of the matter is that stepping into that cage with you is the only true release I have right now. I can hit punching bags and use my own glass all I want…but nothing beats the release I feel when your hand brings blood from my body. Nothing can match the feeling I will get from staring into your eyes while I watch blood trickle down your chin and falling to the mat. That’s where we differ you see…you see this match as your last chance for revenge. Whether against me or Corey Black…well that’s up to you but nonetheless you see it as revenge. You want to end me…to make us pay for my addition to your team…to make me disappear forever; falling back to the depths of hell you believe I belong. A part of you may be right…but I don’t feel you’re as much in control of this match as you’ve been feeling…there’s a reason you were put in charge of XIII and I believe you’ve distorted the true reason into something you wish was real.”
Having cleaned up with one hand I stare into the mirror with a fresh face, a fresh new way of thinking…of realizing that not everything is as clear as I once thought it was…but at the same time it’s not as confusing. I begin to realize just where I stand in this company…in this match…in Pantheon. Taking a deep breath I lean against the counter allowing my hair once again to fall in front of my face. Closing my eyes I picture everything…Jayson, glass, the cage…the ring…the audience…of it standing in front of me as clear as day as I can look down and see the glass stuck to my hand ready to do the damage I’m so hoping for.
“You see Jayson, you feel this is your big evil plan, allow yourself to be put into a match with me with no other reason than to make sure I don’t last in Pantheon, that you’re going to prove that you were smarter than Corey Black by putting us in a match together, but did you ever think that maybe that’s what he wanted all along? You see, I have a feeling that Corey knew exactly what you’d do if you were able to get control of XIII…he knew that you would want to face me if even just to prove to yourself that you somehow could beat me. You see, this is how I see it…and I bet I’m not the only one. Corey faced you in a two out of three falls match with the pure intentions of straightening you out…making you see just how worthless you really are but also making you see how powerful you can be. But that didn’t work did it? You never once took time to access your power…truly access, sure you’d mention it but it’d be for nothing more than to show off or brag to intimidate someone who already knew everything about you. That doesn’t mean that you believed everything you said…that was made clear when you went on to lose again…and again. You lost the match for the Cruiserweight Championship which now resides around my waist…and you then lost your chance to compete in the Trilogy Cup. It was clear that you hadn’t made any progress at all…you still didn’t understand what Corey had tried to do for you. So he devised a plan…
A plan that would put you on the map, but would also show him just how predictable you truly were. He gave you control of XIII with the hopes that you would redeem yourself…that you’d show just why you were still in Pantheon, why he’d allowed you to stay…but you just couldn’t take it, could you? No…it ate at you day in and day out that I had won that championship…that I had beaten you. It was clear that your head wasn’t on straight…why else would he trust you with his child. He hoped that you would teach yourself a lesson…and he knew he’d gotten what he wanted the second you put yourself in a match against me. He’d see how quick you were to lose your tempter against me, he knew just how bad you wanted him to look at me as nothing but scum…as someone who had attacked him…beaten him down…defiled him…all of this was true, I had attacked him, you’d seen the attack where my Pack brothers helped me…yet that didn’t matter to him did it? Maybe it even influenced his decision to pick us for Pantheon. That still didn’t make sense though…no…why would he choose someone who attacked him to join him in that ring…but maybe there was more…you’d always knew there’d been something wrong with me and Ice maybe there was something more being dealt before myself and Corey…you’d never know for certain but you definitely knew there had to be some reason he kept me around after you tried to end me...to rub it in your face that I was now one of you. No it wasn’t right….and it still doesn’t make sense as you sit in your room scratching your head trying to figure out what happened…why was I still there…why was he so adamant to make me a part of you guys.”
Moving myself onto the counter I pull a leg up resting my foot on the counter as I lean against the wall staring at the blank walls before laughing, the laughter turns into a fit I’m unable to stop as I’m forced to grab my sides and take deep breaths to calm my thoughts. Returning my eyes back to the wall I’m able to find a sense of serenity as closing my eyes I keep the camera focused on my face allowing each and every emotion I’m feeling to pour through to the surface.
“Maybe none of this even matters to you…maybe you’re laughing the whole time I’m talking…but maybe, just maybe you’re sitting in a closed room like I am. Staring at the floor and pondering what you’re going to do to me in order to get that championship, you can see the picture now of my face covered in blood, unable to speak…to move…as you continuously hit blow after blow trying your best to make sure you leave evidence of the attack forever etched into my skin, to make sure I don’t come back to this company, to make sure that every time I look in the mirror I’m forced to think of your condescending smirk and the way you used to look at me. But something’s simple…something so clear in my mind right now that it makes me laugh at how much of a hold you believe you have in this match…at how much power you believe you are grasping in the palm of your hands…when really. Really it is I that holds the power…it’s I who controls what happens…I’m in control just as I have always been and something tells me you’ve already figured that out…clearly that’s the where the edge of your frustration comes from…you know that you can’t control the outcome as you much you hoped you would…you know what I am capable of doing in the ring and giving me a match I’m known for to those who have followed my career…to give me the match I will say time and time again is my favorite…don’t you think that’d mean something? Every scar on my body, every one can be taken back to a match of that name at some point in my career…you know pain isn’t an emotion to be but something I crave…something I need…so why give me the match that gives me everything I could ever ask for?...because deep down you know you want me on your team…deep down you know that you are better with me rather than against me…and maybe…just maybe…your mind has opened up enough to allow you see what exactly is standing before you.”
Moving from the counter I stare back into the mirror, not into my own gaze but straight into the camera, taking in everything I have said as if I’m talking to myself and not someone else…that no one else is in this match by me. That’s not true though as I can only picture the face of the man who is doing everything he can to make sure this is my last match in the company. But he’s not doing this to hurt me…he’s doing this to hurt his own friend and that is a downfall in itself. Smiling I shake my head as various thoughts run through my mind, each one another comment I’ve heard over the years about that one man…about Jayson…the reason for his ego is not questionable…but we all have those fans don’t we? That’ll say everything they can in order to try to get to meet us…to get a glance from us…but maybe they aren’t always wrong…maybe just maybe they are the best help at learning about your opponents.
“Jayson Price is unbeatable...this man is a legend, an icon...no one should be able to beat him...but I have. Jayson I have beaten you more than once now, but more than that I have studied you. I know your pros, I know your cons, I know your strengths, I know your weaknesses and this Friday...I will have your life in the palm of my hand as I win MY match and retain MY championship!”
As short and simple as possible I allow the smirk to stay on my face, as the camera’s red light fades to black showing me the recording is done…that I am done…that we are done. My attention turns back to the other room as I walk through the door to see Shelley has already changed into you pjs and is patiently sitting on the bed holding the copy of her movie in her hands. This is what matters right this second…until that bell rings and the match starts…nothing is more important to me than my daughter.