Post by "Iron Heart" Ethan King on Apr 17, 2016 6:18:20 GMT -5
Sudoku: You wanted to talk, Ethan?
A small footstep echoed throughout the small clearing, where the tree canopy disappeared into thin air and allowed beaming lights of sun to wash over the ground and illuminate the sky in a bright golden. Leaves rustled and grass swayed along with the quickening winds that sung and whirled on this early morning. Where young Ethan King shuffled his feet, trudging along the ground with his head inclined, eyes scanning the ground.
No longer was this the prideful, amped up, happy-go-lucky college kid that had dreams and visions of reaching the top, no longer was this the young man who would take the wrestling world by storm and show the world that hard work payed off.
This was a far more realistic, pragmatic Ethan. Similar to a young child that had his wish spoiled by the cold, cruel truth, Ethan begun to realize that this wasn't some type of game, that taking the WCF by storm wasn't just something you said, but something you would have to EARN through hard work and improvement.
Reality proved to be a little harsher than that, he thought.
Ethan: That I do.
Sudoku: Come, sit.
Ethan stood merely a few metres in front of the seated 'Mister Sudoku', who sat cross-legged on the ground, hands wading softly between the delicate sea of green that surrounded him. He gave the young man a warming smile, while pointing subtly in front of him, and beckoning for him to sit. Ethan took a few hesitant paces forward, before coming to a halt and dropping down, knees first onto the ground beneath him. Sudoku nodded his thanks.
Sudoku: You seem a little unsure of yourself as of late.
Ethan: How can you tell?
Sudoku: A few things. Your gait, first of all. It's irregular, a tad slower. You're more tense, evident by the way your steps sound louder than usual. Your voice cracks and breaks; a little less lively than usual. There's a few more, but I'm sure you'd rather I don't get into it.
Ethan: So... it's really gotten that bad?
Sudoku: I would prefer you don't think of it like that, rather you're just now beginning to realize that challenge that lays ahead of you, and what you're going to need to do and strive for in order to accomplish what you wish.
Ethan: But that's the thing, I don't even know what I'm really trying to achieve here. At first I thought I was doing this for some bigger reason, for some mighty goal that would help to inspire others to do what I've done. But what have I really done? I'm just a brash young kid trying to make a name, so far I've done nothing for the other people around me.
Sudoku: This is good.
Ethan: What?
Sudoku: It's good that you've fallen into this train of thought. Many people fall into the same routine, the same cycle of thinking after failure, they don't assess their options, they don't think of what they've been doing wrong. If you can acknowledge it, than you can improve on it.
He paused, assessing the way Ethan's face went from uncertain and curious, to focused and understanding. He smiled, whilst pointing to himself with a lone finger.
Sudoku: Do you think that I'm someone that never came face to face with failure, that I never once experienced uncertainty and hesitance in the face of adversity? That for all my life I've been someone that's taken the challenges in front of me and crushed them without even a trace of effort? That's not how the world works, Ethan. You know that.
Ethan: Well, yeah. Of course. I knew it was never going to be easy, I knew that we would meet our match eventually, that times would get tough and we'd need to fight through it. I just didn't expect it to come so soon, so sudden. First Gabriel goes missing, then we're eating losses to guys that we should be able to take, guys that I KNOW we can take.
Sudoku: This may very well be a blessing in disguise, one that you never could've expected. Why suffer a fall from grace later on, when you can experience a rough patch early on, become inspired and motivated because of it, and then work your way back up? You're simply back at Square One, Ethan. You never moved away from it, neither up or down. You had your small victories, you've had your small defeats. You can't allow either of them to affect you.
He stops himself to take a short breath, before glancing upwards to the skies above, Ethan's eyes follow with him.
Sudoku: The moment you get caught looking at the stars for too long, the shadows from below will start to eat away at you.
His gaze swings back down to Ethan, whose eyes are now wide with intrigue, his body leaning forward slightly, as if to hear the words his 'mentor' is speaking more clearly.
Sudoku: And don't worry about what it is you're fighting for now, what you're striving to accomplish in these times were everything is shrouded by dark clouds and a smokescreen haze. You're not meant to know right away, that's something you begin to understand the more time you participate in something you love. Something that you're truly passionate about. You'll learn as time goes on, there'll be a moment where you have some type of epiphany. A sheer moment of realization were it all comes together, your eyes will open and your mind will accept greater possibilities that it once thought were impossible. Forget the doubts that plague your mind, allow it to all come together naturally.
Slowly, he moved his palms towards his knees, before pushing directly off the kneecaps and pulling himself up to his full height. He languidly stretched for a moment, rolling out the kinks in his back, a few audible cracks popping as he shrugged his shoulders and manipulated the joints and muscles in his arms. Deliberately, he extended out an arm to the kneeling Ethan King, who took the offered hand, before being promptly pulled up to his feet by the older man.
Sudoku: I have faith in you, there's a reason I wanted you to take apart in this *STATIC*. I don't want you to start losing your wits just yet.
Ethan smiled and nodded. Sudoku began to back away, smirking slightly.
Sudoku: Remember. No Fear, Only Hype.
Ethan chuckled aloud, remembering the first time he had said those words. At a time where he had been scheduled for his very first match in the WCF, where everything seemed far more simpler and easier to comprehend. It had been only a month since those 'simpler times', yet it felt so much longer. As if in this short span of time, so many more interactions and unfathomable events had taken place, who would've thought that wrestling, doing what you loved, would take so much out of you? Would force you to sacrifice so much?
Ethan certainly didn't know.
But now he did.
He sighed as his eyes narrowed, focusing in on the disappearing figure of Mister Sudoku, which was now fading away in between the leaves and trees, the suns' glare finally forcing him to look away. By the time his eyes recovered and started darting back to where he saw his friend and mentor leave, he was well and truly gone, faded away in the distance. But while he was gone, the words that he had told Ethan remained well and truly sealed within his mind.
They would be pivotal in him reaching the heights he knew he could climb.
An hour later, Ethan had finally arrived back at the College Campus of Real Sudoku Hours. Things were more lively than they had been in the past few days; to him, at least. He wasn't quite aware of the situations and events taking place, his mind had wandered far off into other places the past few weeks, into things that he had deemed more important at the time. The WCF was at the top of that list of priorities, and it had certainly seemed to have gotten in the way of other things that he had once thought of as equally, or even more important.
His feet carried him through the front gate and past the trademark water fountain straight down the walk way, which was where the branching concrete pathways began to emerge, sending excited students into different sections of the school. Ethan took a sharp turn to the left at the fountain, leading him towards the dormitories. While making his way there, he received many kind smiles and nods - like he had earned the respect of the students, and even some of the teachers at the University.
Simply put, it baffled him.
"Why do they think so highly of me? Why are they showing me all this respect? It's not like I've done anything special, I'm just another guy trying to make a living off of something he loves, exactly like all of them. That's why they're here, right? To make their dreams come true? All of that goody-goody, happy shit that we're all told can be made possible through dedication and commitment?"
He continued to walk, his steps becoming slower as he went on.
"That's what confuses me. They don't tell us the truth, they don't let us know that sometimes, dreams just aren't meant to be. It's all just them telling us we can be whatever we want to be, that we don't HAVE to be products of the system, even though they know we're going to wind up that way no matter how hard we try, no matter how much we wanna be different.
They don't explain that this isn't the way life works, that not everybody will be afforded the opportunities they think they deserve, the breaks they think they should've gotten.
They know most of us are destined to fail, that most of us aren't the one-percent, so what's stopping them from telling us that?
Why can't they be honest, and saw that we were fucked from the very start?"
Incensed, Ethan paced up the stairs towards the second level of dorm rooms, after already reaching the small building. With a quick hand and a small amount of force, he pushed the door open and took stock of the room.
Empty, devoid of life.
Eddie? Nowhere to be found.
Miguel? Seemingly disappeared.
Gabriel? Long gone.
Slowly, painfully, Ethan shuffled over toward the leather couch at the back of the room, situated in front of a switched off TV and a glass table which supported a shut-down laptop, one belonging to a certain Eddie Felt. At the sight of the object, he frowned, mouth curving sadly downwards, eyes fluttering as he leaned his head backward and glared up at the plain white ceiling above him.
Perhaps it was just time to accept the fact that it just wasn't going to work out, that the dream never WAS going to happen, not without an insane stroke of luck and some extra miracles along the way.
The sound of a phone vibrating sounded off abruptly from his pocket, he reached down into the dark pair of trousers he had chosen for the day and dug his hand deep in the right pocket, moments later revealing a sleek white mobile phone in the palm of his hand. The screen flickered on at the light touch of a side-button, and soon Ethan had found his way to his most recent message. One from Cara Segreti, his partner. A person he had preferred not to see in the past few days, simply for not wanting to look distraught and out of sorts in front of the one he loved most.
The message read: "I've missed you! I know you're not feeling the best but do u think we could meet up sometime this week? Good luck for ur match btw!!! I heard u got a tough one xoxo"
Ethan's eyes traversed up and down the screen repeatedly, as he read over the message once, twice, three times. For the first time tonight, a smile began to play at his lips. He fired back a quick message, before popping back up to his feet.
Things weren't better, things were still looking bleak.
But he'd be damned if he wasn't going to give it another shot.
It's show-time.
IN MY COURT
"The balls in my court, it's been three weeks and a row and we here at The Pride have had two chances to silence the critics, to fuck over the doubters and make them accept that we've got what it takes to hang here in the WCF.
Judging by our show stealing performances, most people would probably acknowledge the fact that we got what it takes, that we've got the potential to do what many others have failed to do in the past, but there's still going to be those haters, there's still going to be those same people that try to put you down and tell you that you're just not good enough.
They'll tell you that results are the end all and be all, that performance doesn't matter if you're not the one getting your arm raised at the end of the night, high in the sky for the world to see.
I call bullshit on that.
Just look at Steve Orbit.
Steve, how you doing man? You know, I'm getting sick and tired of all the disrespect being shown to you, this is a guy that's literally a living fucking legend, he's not some washed up dude trying to get back into the business (looking at you, Logan.) He's not some desperate motherfucker trying to show that's he's still got it, he's just a former World Champ whose come back to show everyone that's he still the best at what he does.
I'll be the first to say that these guys are idiots, the one giving you all that shit for not reaching the peaks you did back during your greatest runs here in the WCF, I'll also be the first to say that I respect you.
But you know what it is, this is the WCF. That's not going to stop me from dropping you with the fire and then dropping you on your head the moment we step in that ring together, but I'll be real with you man. I like you, I really do. Once I'm done picking up an iconic win over a legend like yourself, I'll be certain to help you back up to your feet and raise your hand up, because I know that's what you deserve.
You don't deserve being thrown up against guys like Logan and losing over and over again, you're above that, you're better than that. You should be the guy carrying around that Final Destination briefcase, but you got your second shot at it. Did you not? You got a chance to redeem yourself and just couldn't quite manage to get the job done, just like The Pride against #BlackBeaver, you just came up short. And people started tearing into you for that, for not being the guy you said you were.
You're one of the realest guys in the fucking building, you speak your mind and sometimes? It bites you, it makes you look like a loser, you're all about telling people that you still got what it takes, and you know what that says to me? You're starting to get desperate man, and it's sad, it really is.
Because I'm one of the guys that knows you don't need to say shit like that, that you're always gonna be looked upon as a major player in this game because you're Steve fucking Orbit, and you're the type of guy that knows how to get the job done.
Two-Time World Champion, you've been at the top of the mountain and reigned supreme over the federation.
So... what's changed?
What's stopped you from being Steve Orbit? What's stopping you from being yourself? You're still the same guy on the outside, you're still the hot fire spitting, pimp slapping motherfucker that everyone knew you were the moment you stepped into the federation, you've still got all that charisma and ability that took you to the very top.
But now? Your mentality is all out of sorts, you're out of whack and you know it. You've had your chances to capitalize, you've been afforded opportunity after opportunity and came up short so many times, not only did you get two chances to take that Final Destination Briefcase and prove that you could beat Logan when it mattered most, but you got a chance to stake your claim for a World Title opportunity.
And what happened?
You blew it, man.
You fucking blew it.
Don't get me wrong, you were facing two of the very best that WCF has to offer, those guys were some of the stiffest competition you could face in the federation today, but I think it showcased something, something that the whole world can see, something that everybody knows but something that YOU refuse to acknowledge.
Everyone's picking up their game man, everyone's reached the same level you are, and some have risen above and beyond. Some of us younger guys just have that competitive fire that you once had, that same hunger that got you to where you are today, and we're using that shit to propel us to heights that you've once seen, but apparently are never going to reach again.
I say apparently, because I know that's bullshit. I know you've got it in you, I know you're not just some scrub whose going to lose hope because of a couple of stupid losses, that's not who you are, that's not the guy that carried that World Championship once upon a time. But even so, there's some things that just can't be ignored.
You've barely won since returning to the WCF, what's it been, one match?
If that's the case, then why are you being given shots that other guys have been working their asses of for? Not taking anything away from you, but do you really think you should be a front runner for this United States Championship. Hell, even the World Championship? What did you do to earn your spot, besides defeating a guy that you lost to multiple times in a row? Sure, you got the win eventually, and that showed everyone exactly what I still see in you. That grit and determination, but one win shouldn't propel you back up to the top of the card, one win shouldn't give you opportunities that the newer crowd still have to fight tooth and nail for.
But like I said, you're Steve Orbit. These things just seem to happen, don't they? Living legends like yourselves are given chances that others simply aren't, and now you're in the running for yet another championship, your fourth chance in a few months to become the holder of a trinket here in the WCF. You choked once, choked twice, choked three times.
Let's take a guess as to what's going to happen on the fourth attempt.
Do I think I've got this shit in the bag? Not quite. One wrong move and you've got me right where you want me, you give me one good shot and my lights go out, and so does my chance at becoming a champion here in the WCF, but that's why I'm going to be prepare, I'm going to be at the very top of my game. My concentration and focus will be greater than ever before, because I don't think you're some type of joke.
But, are you going to be giving me that same respect, are you going to be just as wary and on your game? Are you going to be bringing that A-Level stuff? Because anything less is going to end with you getting your shoulders pinned to the mat for that solid one, two, three. It's YOUR lights that are gonna be going out, that fire that you've brought in the past few months will be snuffed out even further.
But back to respect.
You aren't going to be giving me any, are you? You're going from facing multiple main-eventers, to someone that you think you can wipe the floor with easily, not even a contest. You'll be walking into this shit almost certain of your victory, so sure that this will be where you start to piece it all together and become the competitor you know you can be. Where you go on a little run and pick up that moment, carry some steam into Aftermath and rip that US Title away from Mikey Extreme, before having some type of legendary run.
You're already looking to the future, you're already looking past the guy that's directly in front of you, you see this 'Ethan King' guy and you just look at the most recent results, seeing that he's failed to come through with promises twice.
But you know what?
I got heart, man. I got that exact same thing you do, that exact same thing you once had in spades, that thing that carried you through the toughest of times and made you the legend that you are today, I got that talent and potential that people once saw and you. The question is, are you going to acknowledge that, and accept that this isn't just going to be another walk in the park, or are you going to get embarrassed?
You're so fucking caught up on everyone questioning your ability. Every time you get called washed up, a little piece of you dies and you fall into this never ending pit of despair, you become so desperate, so eager to prove everybody wrong. You get overzealous, and then the nerves get to you. Imagine that, a guy that's been in some of the biggest matches in WCF History, getting a little rattled by a few fans and wrestlers calling him old and washed up.
What have you become, man?
Have you actually changed, or are you still the same Steve Orbit that comes in here every week and tears shit up?
Honestly, I don't know.
All I see right now is a guy that's too caught up on the results, a guy that's so worried about his own personal image and how people perceive him, that he can't even see straight, that he doesn't even know what he's worth. A guy that's so torn up by the way people treat him, that he doesn't even want to admit that maybe, just maybe, something's up. That something's not quite right with him.
What was it you said last week, before your World Title match?
That Seth's put you in the spot you need to be in?
So, let me guess. You're already thinking that this shit is below you, that some puny US Title don't mean nothing to you anymore, that some Ethan King kid is going to step up and get pimp slapped, knocked right back down the rankings like some weak ass bitch.
Is that what's running through your mind right now, are you still in denial about the fact you just haven't been able to come through with all those promises you've been making, that even with all the fire you've dropped and the hype you've been given, you've failed to live up to the expectations that you've set on yourself. The same expectations that the fans, and other guys in the locker room, looked at and LAUGHED at because they thought you'd never be able to reach those goals?
Maybe they were right. You thought you were made for that World Title picture, but now you're looking down the barrel of a loaded gun, a guy ready to shoot off into the stratosphere and become a shooting star, a megastar shining in the limelight, as he overtakes a legend that's lost his way, that's strayed off the path that made him the sensation that he once was.
I'm not convinced that this is you, that you're this failure that everyone's making you out to be. I've watched you at your best, I've seen what you're capable of, is it possible you've really fallen this far?
You were finally given your shot, given an opportunity to make up for not grabbing the briefcase, for being put in the spot you thought you deserved to be, and you couldn't even come through with the goods. You thought you had that shit all locked up, that it was yours for the taking, that it was basically guaranteed you'd be walking into Aftermath against Joey Flash for that World Title.
And now look at you.
Facing little Ethan King for a chance at that United States Title, a belt you've already held before, a belt that by now you probably think is weak sauce compared to what you've accomplished in your career. It upsets me, dude. That you were once this guy that was hyped up to no end, and now you're just another guy going through the motions, another guy flailing around in the midcard, trying to find his spot and leave his mark.
You're back at square one, after all this time, after everything you've done. You're back where you started, but not because of anything anyone else has done, oh no.
Steve Orbit played Steve Orbit.
Steve Orbit played himself.
Poor bastard, all along he was just ruining himself. That first lost to Logan at Fifteen sealed the deal for this motherfucker, it was his chance to come back in with a splash, to shock the world and beat all the up and coming new talents in Rabid, Adams, Blue and the like, to cement himself as top tier in a federation that he once dominated simply by showing up every week.
Then, it all came crashing down on him, all the expectation he had leveled upon himself sent him tumbling down to rock-bottom, all in the blink of an eye. One loss to a washed up Logan turned him into a shambling, husk of a man.
That's right, from one loss you went from Steve motherfucking Orbit to Steve Orbit-lite.
Steve Orbit fucking LITE.
Are you kidding me?
You didn't take that loss and better yourself because of it, a fire didn't ignite underneath you, you weren't suddenly motivated to push yourself to the limit and take your place among the greats again, you just decided to become complacent, you decided to accept that this is what had happened, and that you weren't going to do anything about it.
Steve Orbit, ladies and gentlemen. Gather around, because this might be the last time you see the guy willing to compete, because this is his ONE SHOT to pull himself back up into relevance. The one moment where he has to either put up or shut up and accept his role, to know his place here in the WCF. He can either take me to the limit and prove that he's still got it, he can shut me up and give everyone a performance worth remembering, or he can just flounder once again, stumbling over yet another obstacle and falling even further down into obscurity.
I don't want to see it happen. I don't want to watch a guy I used to be in awe of fail yet again in a match that HE thinks he should've won, even though the reality was much, much different. This isn't the guy I used to watch on TV every week, this isn't the same person. This isn't Steve Orbit.
This is just another guy whose going to meet that undying, indomitable will of Ethan King, the young college kid who doesn't give a fuck about boundaries and limits, the guy who never stopped once that hype train started rolling, the guy who accepts his losses, moves on and then takes the next motherfucker down with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. That's how it goes here in the WCF, you don't worry about the past, you look to the future. And Steve, you know it, dude...
The Future is now.
The Future is The Pride.
And that's not a joke, you know I've got what it takes, even if you might not be willing to admit it. You know that one day, I'm going to be reaching the pinnacle that you hit, when you were carrying that World Title proudly around your waist, when you were the man everyone wanted to be.
That's going to be me one day, this is just the beginning of the passing of the torch. This is Ethan King versus Steve Orbit, a match that was eventually going to happen one way or another. In a way, it's almost sad. That something so big has to happen so early, that you have to see the guy that'll be taking your place in action against you so, so quickly.
But I want you to know something man, I hope you give it your all.
I HOPE you take me to my limit. I won't even be mad if you beat me, because I know you've still got some left in the tank.
I'm one of the only guys who'll stand before you and tell you how it fucking is, how everyone else in the locker room sees you, how the rest of the world sees you, but I'll also be one of the dudes that tells you that YOU STILL GOT IT.
Because you really do, no matter how many other people want to deny that. At Slam, we're going to put on a show man, and after I'm done beating you... like I said earlier, I'll make sure I help you up and raise your hand.
And I hope this helps people understand... that you're not washed up, that you're not a scrub, that you're not some type of joke. I always believed in you man, back when I was first watching you, and even up until this day, I know you still got it.
But that's not going to stop me from dropping you on Sunday, from opening your eyes and giving you a chance to reevaluate the situation.
For now, Steve. It's mission abort for you, but I expect you to come back better than ever.
I know you can do it.
Good luck, man."
A small footstep echoed throughout the small clearing, where the tree canopy disappeared into thin air and allowed beaming lights of sun to wash over the ground and illuminate the sky in a bright golden. Leaves rustled and grass swayed along with the quickening winds that sung and whirled on this early morning. Where young Ethan King shuffled his feet, trudging along the ground with his head inclined, eyes scanning the ground.
No longer was this the prideful, amped up, happy-go-lucky college kid that had dreams and visions of reaching the top, no longer was this the young man who would take the wrestling world by storm and show the world that hard work payed off.
This was a far more realistic, pragmatic Ethan. Similar to a young child that had his wish spoiled by the cold, cruel truth, Ethan begun to realize that this wasn't some type of game, that taking the WCF by storm wasn't just something you said, but something you would have to EARN through hard work and improvement.
Reality proved to be a little harsher than that, he thought.
Ethan: That I do.
Sudoku: Come, sit.
Ethan stood merely a few metres in front of the seated 'Mister Sudoku', who sat cross-legged on the ground, hands wading softly between the delicate sea of green that surrounded him. He gave the young man a warming smile, while pointing subtly in front of him, and beckoning for him to sit. Ethan took a few hesitant paces forward, before coming to a halt and dropping down, knees first onto the ground beneath him. Sudoku nodded his thanks.
Sudoku: You seem a little unsure of yourself as of late.
Ethan: How can you tell?
Sudoku: A few things. Your gait, first of all. It's irregular, a tad slower. You're more tense, evident by the way your steps sound louder than usual. Your voice cracks and breaks; a little less lively than usual. There's a few more, but I'm sure you'd rather I don't get into it.
Ethan: So... it's really gotten that bad?
Sudoku: I would prefer you don't think of it like that, rather you're just now beginning to realize that challenge that lays ahead of you, and what you're going to need to do and strive for in order to accomplish what you wish.
Ethan: But that's the thing, I don't even know what I'm really trying to achieve here. At first I thought I was doing this for some bigger reason, for some mighty goal that would help to inspire others to do what I've done. But what have I really done? I'm just a brash young kid trying to make a name, so far I've done nothing for the other people around me.
Sudoku: This is good.
Ethan: What?
Sudoku: It's good that you've fallen into this train of thought. Many people fall into the same routine, the same cycle of thinking after failure, they don't assess their options, they don't think of what they've been doing wrong. If you can acknowledge it, than you can improve on it.
He paused, assessing the way Ethan's face went from uncertain and curious, to focused and understanding. He smiled, whilst pointing to himself with a lone finger.
Sudoku: Do you think that I'm someone that never came face to face with failure, that I never once experienced uncertainty and hesitance in the face of adversity? That for all my life I've been someone that's taken the challenges in front of me and crushed them without even a trace of effort? That's not how the world works, Ethan. You know that.
Ethan: Well, yeah. Of course. I knew it was never going to be easy, I knew that we would meet our match eventually, that times would get tough and we'd need to fight through it. I just didn't expect it to come so soon, so sudden. First Gabriel goes missing, then we're eating losses to guys that we should be able to take, guys that I KNOW we can take.
Sudoku: This may very well be a blessing in disguise, one that you never could've expected. Why suffer a fall from grace later on, when you can experience a rough patch early on, become inspired and motivated because of it, and then work your way back up? You're simply back at Square One, Ethan. You never moved away from it, neither up or down. You had your small victories, you've had your small defeats. You can't allow either of them to affect you.
He stops himself to take a short breath, before glancing upwards to the skies above, Ethan's eyes follow with him.
Sudoku: The moment you get caught looking at the stars for too long, the shadows from below will start to eat away at you.
His gaze swings back down to Ethan, whose eyes are now wide with intrigue, his body leaning forward slightly, as if to hear the words his 'mentor' is speaking more clearly.
Sudoku: And don't worry about what it is you're fighting for now, what you're striving to accomplish in these times were everything is shrouded by dark clouds and a smokescreen haze. You're not meant to know right away, that's something you begin to understand the more time you participate in something you love. Something that you're truly passionate about. You'll learn as time goes on, there'll be a moment where you have some type of epiphany. A sheer moment of realization were it all comes together, your eyes will open and your mind will accept greater possibilities that it once thought were impossible. Forget the doubts that plague your mind, allow it to all come together naturally.
Slowly, he moved his palms towards his knees, before pushing directly off the kneecaps and pulling himself up to his full height. He languidly stretched for a moment, rolling out the kinks in his back, a few audible cracks popping as he shrugged his shoulders and manipulated the joints and muscles in his arms. Deliberately, he extended out an arm to the kneeling Ethan King, who took the offered hand, before being promptly pulled up to his feet by the older man.
Sudoku: I have faith in you, there's a reason I wanted you to take apart in this *STATIC*. I don't want you to start losing your wits just yet.
Ethan smiled and nodded. Sudoku began to back away, smirking slightly.
Sudoku: Remember. No Fear, Only Hype.
Ethan chuckled aloud, remembering the first time he had said those words. At a time where he had been scheduled for his very first match in the WCF, where everything seemed far more simpler and easier to comprehend. It had been only a month since those 'simpler times', yet it felt so much longer. As if in this short span of time, so many more interactions and unfathomable events had taken place, who would've thought that wrestling, doing what you loved, would take so much out of you? Would force you to sacrifice so much?
Ethan certainly didn't know.
But now he did.
He sighed as his eyes narrowed, focusing in on the disappearing figure of Mister Sudoku, which was now fading away in between the leaves and trees, the suns' glare finally forcing him to look away. By the time his eyes recovered and started darting back to where he saw his friend and mentor leave, he was well and truly gone, faded away in the distance. But while he was gone, the words that he had told Ethan remained well and truly sealed within his mind.
They would be pivotal in him reaching the heights he knew he could climb.
An hour later, Ethan had finally arrived back at the College Campus of Real Sudoku Hours. Things were more lively than they had been in the past few days; to him, at least. He wasn't quite aware of the situations and events taking place, his mind had wandered far off into other places the past few weeks, into things that he had deemed more important at the time. The WCF was at the top of that list of priorities, and it had certainly seemed to have gotten in the way of other things that he had once thought of as equally, or even more important.
His feet carried him through the front gate and past the trademark water fountain straight down the walk way, which was where the branching concrete pathways began to emerge, sending excited students into different sections of the school. Ethan took a sharp turn to the left at the fountain, leading him towards the dormitories. While making his way there, he received many kind smiles and nods - like he had earned the respect of the students, and even some of the teachers at the University.
Simply put, it baffled him.
"Why do they think so highly of me? Why are they showing me all this respect? It's not like I've done anything special, I'm just another guy trying to make a living off of something he loves, exactly like all of them. That's why they're here, right? To make their dreams come true? All of that goody-goody, happy shit that we're all told can be made possible through dedication and commitment?"
He continued to walk, his steps becoming slower as he went on.
"That's what confuses me. They don't tell us the truth, they don't let us know that sometimes, dreams just aren't meant to be. It's all just them telling us we can be whatever we want to be, that we don't HAVE to be products of the system, even though they know we're going to wind up that way no matter how hard we try, no matter how much we wanna be different.
They don't explain that this isn't the way life works, that not everybody will be afforded the opportunities they think they deserve, the breaks they think they should've gotten.
They know most of us are destined to fail, that most of us aren't the one-percent, so what's stopping them from telling us that?
Why can't they be honest, and saw that we were fucked from the very start?"
Incensed, Ethan paced up the stairs towards the second level of dorm rooms, after already reaching the small building. With a quick hand and a small amount of force, he pushed the door open and took stock of the room.
Empty, devoid of life.
Eddie? Nowhere to be found.
Miguel? Seemingly disappeared.
Gabriel? Long gone.
Slowly, painfully, Ethan shuffled over toward the leather couch at the back of the room, situated in front of a switched off TV and a glass table which supported a shut-down laptop, one belonging to a certain Eddie Felt. At the sight of the object, he frowned, mouth curving sadly downwards, eyes fluttering as he leaned his head backward and glared up at the plain white ceiling above him.
Perhaps it was just time to accept the fact that it just wasn't going to work out, that the dream never WAS going to happen, not without an insane stroke of luck and some extra miracles along the way.
The sound of a phone vibrating sounded off abruptly from his pocket, he reached down into the dark pair of trousers he had chosen for the day and dug his hand deep in the right pocket, moments later revealing a sleek white mobile phone in the palm of his hand. The screen flickered on at the light touch of a side-button, and soon Ethan had found his way to his most recent message. One from Cara Segreti, his partner. A person he had preferred not to see in the past few days, simply for not wanting to look distraught and out of sorts in front of the one he loved most.
The message read: "I've missed you! I know you're not feeling the best but do u think we could meet up sometime this week? Good luck for ur match btw!!! I heard u got a tough one xoxo"
Ethan's eyes traversed up and down the screen repeatedly, as he read over the message once, twice, three times. For the first time tonight, a smile began to play at his lips. He fired back a quick message, before popping back up to his feet.
Things weren't better, things were still looking bleak.
But he'd be damned if he wasn't going to give it another shot.
It's show-time.
IN MY COURT
"The balls in my court, it's been three weeks and a row and we here at The Pride have had two chances to silence the critics, to fuck over the doubters and make them accept that we've got what it takes to hang here in the WCF.
Judging by our show stealing performances, most people would probably acknowledge the fact that we got what it takes, that we've got the potential to do what many others have failed to do in the past, but there's still going to be those haters, there's still going to be those same people that try to put you down and tell you that you're just not good enough.
They'll tell you that results are the end all and be all, that performance doesn't matter if you're not the one getting your arm raised at the end of the night, high in the sky for the world to see.
I call bullshit on that.
Just look at Steve Orbit.
Steve, how you doing man? You know, I'm getting sick and tired of all the disrespect being shown to you, this is a guy that's literally a living fucking legend, he's not some washed up dude trying to get back into the business (looking at you, Logan.) He's not some desperate motherfucker trying to show that's he's still got it, he's just a former World Champ whose come back to show everyone that's he still the best at what he does.
I'll be the first to say that these guys are idiots, the one giving you all that shit for not reaching the peaks you did back during your greatest runs here in the WCF, I'll also be the first to say that I respect you.
But you know what it is, this is the WCF. That's not going to stop me from dropping you with the fire and then dropping you on your head the moment we step in that ring together, but I'll be real with you man. I like you, I really do. Once I'm done picking up an iconic win over a legend like yourself, I'll be certain to help you back up to your feet and raise your hand up, because I know that's what you deserve.
You don't deserve being thrown up against guys like Logan and losing over and over again, you're above that, you're better than that. You should be the guy carrying around that Final Destination briefcase, but you got your second shot at it. Did you not? You got a chance to redeem yourself and just couldn't quite manage to get the job done, just like The Pride against #BlackBeaver, you just came up short. And people started tearing into you for that, for not being the guy you said you were.
You're one of the realest guys in the fucking building, you speak your mind and sometimes? It bites you, it makes you look like a loser, you're all about telling people that you still got what it takes, and you know what that says to me? You're starting to get desperate man, and it's sad, it really is.
Because I'm one of the guys that knows you don't need to say shit like that, that you're always gonna be looked upon as a major player in this game because you're Steve fucking Orbit, and you're the type of guy that knows how to get the job done.
Two-Time World Champion, you've been at the top of the mountain and reigned supreme over the federation.
So... what's changed?
What's stopped you from being Steve Orbit? What's stopping you from being yourself? You're still the same guy on the outside, you're still the hot fire spitting, pimp slapping motherfucker that everyone knew you were the moment you stepped into the federation, you've still got all that charisma and ability that took you to the very top.
But now? Your mentality is all out of sorts, you're out of whack and you know it. You've had your chances to capitalize, you've been afforded opportunity after opportunity and came up short so many times, not only did you get two chances to take that Final Destination Briefcase and prove that you could beat Logan when it mattered most, but you got a chance to stake your claim for a World Title opportunity.
And what happened?
You blew it, man.
You fucking blew it.
Don't get me wrong, you were facing two of the very best that WCF has to offer, those guys were some of the stiffest competition you could face in the federation today, but I think it showcased something, something that the whole world can see, something that everybody knows but something that YOU refuse to acknowledge.
Everyone's picking up their game man, everyone's reached the same level you are, and some have risen above and beyond. Some of us younger guys just have that competitive fire that you once had, that same hunger that got you to where you are today, and we're using that shit to propel us to heights that you've once seen, but apparently are never going to reach again.
I say apparently, because I know that's bullshit. I know you've got it in you, I know you're not just some scrub whose going to lose hope because of a couple of stupid losses, that's not who you are, that's not the guy that carried that World Championship once upon a time. But even so, there's some things that just can't be ignored.
You've barely won since returning to the WCF, what's it been, one match?
If that's the case, then why are you being given shots that other guys have been working their asses of for? Not taking anything away from you, but do you really think you should be a front runner for this United States Championship. Hell, even the World Championship? What did you do to earn your spot, besides defeating a guy that you lost to multiple times in a row? Sure, you got the win eventually, and that showed everyone exactly what I still see in you. That grit and determination, but one win shouldn't propel you back up to the top of the card, one win shouldn't give you opportunities that the newer crowd still have to fight tooth and nail for.
But like I said, you're Steve Orbit. These things just seem to happen, don't they? Living legends like yourselves are given chances that others simply aren't, and now you're in the running for yet another championship, your fourth chance in a few months to become the holder of a trinket here in the WCF. You choked once, choked twice, choked three times.
Let's take a guess as to what's going to happen on the fourth attempt.
Do I think I've got this shit in the bag? Not quite. One wrong move and you've got me right where you want me, you give me one good shot and my lights go out, and so does my chance at becoming a champion here in the WCF, but that's why I'm going to be prepare, I'm going to be at the very top of my game. My concentration and focus will be greater than ever before, because I don't think you're some type of joke.
But, are you going to be giving me that same respect, are you going to be just as wary and on your game? Are you going to be bringing that A-Level stuff? Because anything less is going to end with you getting your shoulders pinned to the mat for that solid one, two, three. It's YOUR lights that are gonna be going out, that fire that you've brought in the past few months will be snuffed out even further.
But back to respect.
You aren't going to be giving me any, are you? You're going from facing multiple main-eventers, to someone that you think you can wipe the floor with easily, not even a contest. You'll be walking into this shit almost certain of your victory, so sure that this will be where you start to piece it all together and become the competitor you know you can be. Where you go on a little run and pick up that moment, carry some steam into Aftermath and rip that US Title away from Mikey Extreme, before having some type of legendary run.
You're already looking to the future, you're already looking past the guy that's directly in front of you, you see this 'Ethan King' guy and you just look at the most recent results, seeing that he's failed to come through with promises twice.
But you know what?
I got heart, man. I got that exact same thing you do, that exact same thing you once had in spades, that thing that carried you through the toughest of times and made you the legend that you are today, I got that talent and potential that people once saw and you. The question is, are you going to acknowledge that, and accept that this isn't just going to be another walk in the park, or are you going to get embarrassed?
You're so fucking caught up on everyone questioning your ability. Every time you get called washed up, a little piece of you dies and you fall into this never ending pit of despair, you become so desperate, so eager to prove everybody wrong. You get overzealous, and then the nerves get to you. Imagine that, a guy that's been in some of the biggest matches in WCF History, getting a little rattled by a few fans and wrestlers calling him old and washed up.
What have you become, man?
Have you actually changed, or are you still the same Steve Orbit that comes in here every week and tears shit up?
Honestly, I don't know.
All I see right now is a guy that's too caught up on the results, a guy that's so worried about his own personal image and how people perceive him, that he can't even see straight, that he doesn't even know what he's worth. A guy that's so torn up by the way people treat him, that he doesn't even want to admit that maybe, just maybe, something's up. That something's not quite right with him.
What was it you said last week, before your World Title match?
That Seth's put you in the spot you need to be in?
So, let me guess. You're already thinking that this shit is below you, that some puny US Title don't mean nothing to you anymore, that some Ethan King kid is going to step up and get pimp slapped, knocked right back down the rankings like some weak ass bitch.
Is that what's running through your mind right now, are you still in denial about the fact you just haven't been able to come through with all those promises you've been making, that even with all the fire you've dropped and the hype you've been given, you've failed to live up to the expectations that you've set on yourself. The same expectations that the fans, and other guys in the locker room, looked at and LAUGHED at because they thought you'd never be able to reach those goals?
Maybe they were right. You thought you were made for that World Title picture, but now you're looking down the barrel of a loaded gun, a guy ready to shoot off into the stratosphere and become a shooting star, a megastar shining in the limelight, as he overtakes a legend that's lost his way, that's strayed off the path that made him the sensation that he once was.
I'm not convinced that this is you, that you're this failure that everyone's making you out to be. I've watched you at your best, I've seen what you're capable of, is it possible you've really fallen this far?
You were finally given your shot, given an opportunity to make up for not grabbing the briefcase, for being put in the spot you thought you deserved to be, and you couldn't even come through with the goods. You thought you had that shit all locked up, that it was yours for the taking, that it was basically guaranteed you'd be walking into Aftermath against Joey Flash for that World Title.
And now look at you.
Facing little Ethan King for a chance at that United States Title, a belt you've already held before, a belt that by now you probably think is weak sauce compared to what you've accomplished in your career. It upsets me, dude. That you were once this guy that was hyped up to no end, and now you're just another guy going through the motions, another guy flailing around in the midcard, trying to find his spot and leave his mark.
You're back at square one, after all this time, after everything you've done. You're back where you started, but not because of anything anyone else has done, oh no.
Steve Orbit played Steve Orbit.
Steve Orbit played himself.
Poor bastard, all along he was just ruining himself. That first lost to Logan at Fifteen sealed the deal for this motherfucker, it was his chance to come back in with a splash, to shock the world and beat all the up and coming new talents in Rabid, Adams, Blue and the like, to cement himself as top tier in a federation that he once dominated simply by showing up every week.
Then, it all came crashing down on him, all the expectation he had leveled upon himself sent him tumbling down to rock-bottom, all in the blink of an eye. One loss to a washed up Logan turned him into a shambling, husk of a man.
That's right, from one loss you went from Steve motherfucking Orbit to Steve Orbit-lite.
Steve Orbit fucking LITE.
Are you kidding me?
You didn't take that loss and better yourself because of it, a fire didn't ignite underneath you, you weren't suddenly motivated to push yourself to the limit and take your place among the greats again, you just decided to become complacent, you decided to accept that this is what had happened, and that you weren't going to do anything about it.
Steve Orbit, ladies and gentlemen. Gather around, because this might be the last time you see the guy willing to compete, because this is his ONE SHOT to pull himself back up into relevance. The one moment where he has to either put up or shut up and accept his role, to know his place here in the WCF. He can either take me to the limit and prove that he's still got it, he can shut me up and give everyone a performance worth remembering, or he can just flounder once again, stumbling over yet another obstacle and falling even further down into obscurity.
I don't want to see it happen. I don't want to watch a guy I used to be in awe of fail yet again in a match that HE thinks he should've won, even though the reality was much, much different. This isn't the guy I used to watch on TV every week, this isn't the same person. This isn't Steve Orbit.
This is just another guy whose going to meet that undying, indomitable will of Ethan King, the young college kid who doesn't give a fuck about boundaries and limits, the guy who never stopped once that hype train started rolling, the guy who accepts his losses, moves on and then takes the next motherfucker down with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. That's how it goes here in the WCF, you don't worry about the past, you look to the future. And Steve, you know it, dude...
The Future is now.
The Future is The Pride.
And that's not a joke, you know I've got what it takes, even if you might not be willing to admit it. You know that one day, I'm going to be reaching the pinnacle that you hit, when you were carrying that World Title proudly around your waist, when you were the man everyone wanted to be.
That's going to be me one day, this is just the beginning of the passing of the torch. This is Ethan King versus Steve Orbit, a match that was eventually going to happen one way or another. In a way, it's almost sad. That something so big has to happen so early, that you have to see the guy that'll be taking your place in action against you so, so quickly.
But I want you to know something man, I hope you give it your all.
I HOPE you take me to my limit. I won't even be mad if you beat me, because I know you've still got some left in the tank.
I'm one of the only guys who'll stand before you and tell you how it fucking is, how everyone else in the locker room sees you, how the rest of the world sees you, but I'll also be one of the dudes that tells you that YOU STILL GOT IT.
Because you really do, no matter how many other people want to deny that. At Slam, we're going to put on a show man, and after I'm done beating you... like I said earlier, I'll make sure I help you up and raise your hand.
And I hope this helps people understand... that you're not washed up, that you're not a scrub, that you're not some type of joke. I always believed in you man, back when I was first watching you, and even up until this day, I know you still got it.
But that's not going to stop me from dropping you on Sunday, from opening your eyes and giving you a chance to reevaluate the situation.
For now, Steve. It's mission abort for you, but I expect you to come back better than ever.
I know you can do it.
Good luck, man."
