Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jul 31, 2017 4:52:39 GMT
Andrew walks down the hall of his hotel, joints stiff and aching as his gym bag hangs from his shoulder. He stumbles against the wall, gritting his teeth as he holds his neck with one hand. Andrew looks up, trying to shunt his old injury to the back of his mind, and walks towards his room. Reaching into his pocket, he slips the keycard out, trying it in the reader. The light on the door flashes red, and Andrew quietly sighs as he leans forward, headbutting the door lightly. From inside, Danielle calls out, voice slightly panicked. "Just a second!"
Andrew blinks, shaking his head, and takes a step back, confused. After a few moments, the door opens, and a flustered-looking Danielle looks up, sighing in relief. "Oh, Andrew. Good! Come on in, you look beat. I've got some water on the counter and in the mini-fridge." Andrew nods slowly, staggering through the doorway. The moment his feet cross the threshold, the bag slips from his shoulder, thudding to the ground. Danielle beckons blindly to him, walking deeper into the room, and Andrew wearily swings the door shut behind himself, the lock clicking as it settles into the frame.
Andrew looks up from his feet, shuddering as a wave of involuntary pain wracks his body, and his eyes settle on the table in the room. Piles of letters lay upon it, and the table is surrounded by manila folders and the wreckage of what looked to be a fairly extensive filing system. He blinks a few times, trying to make out what he sees. "Dani...why are there a bunch of letters on the table? Where did you find room for all of those in your luggage?"
"I'm a very efficient packer." Danielle replies, walking over and sitting at one of the two chairs at the table. She pulls the other one out, patting the seat with her hand and smiling broadly at Andrew. "Come on over. I really think you need to see this." She beckons Andrew over, and he wearily complies, hand swinging out as if by reflex to grab the water. He thuds down in the second seat, looking over the sea of letters, and a perplexed expression scrawls itself across his face.
"Dani...these are all to me." Andrew begins picking through them, reading the letters over briefly as he does so. A faint smile plays across his face. "I remember this one. Toni from Allentown, Pennsylvania. Said she loved seeing me in action, wanted to see me live. We still haven't managed to get there, have we? Gotta fix that some day..." he chuckles to himself, opening the water and taking a gulp. "Ahh...how many are there?" Andrew's voice carries genuine wonderment.
Danielle grins. "I lost count after about the three hundred mark. This is what I've been doing all evening. Going through these letters for you. Trying to sort them all out." Andrew's eyebrows rise, and Danielle smiles. "Well, I've been telling you how much you mean to me and to everyone else...and that train ride of ours got me thinking: what if I showed you? And what better way to show you just how special you are than by reminding you how many people write to you every day? I'm glad I paid that intern to scan them to me when they arrive at headquarters..."
Danielle straightens one of the piles, mumbling to herself as Andrew grins. He can't help but laugh slightly to himself as he reads through them. "This is amazing. I remember these. I remember...all of these." Andrew laughs to himself again, shaking his head as he looks up at Danielle. "I guess...one by one, they kind of all blend together day by day. Seeing it all in front of you...it really brings it home."
"And those are just from this year, hero." Danielle grins, leaning over and kissing Andrew on the cheek. "If I had all of them printed, we'd be swimming in them. The point is..." she turns to face Andrew again, taking his hand. "I know you've had a lot on your mind. This is a big match. I guess...I just wanted to remind you there are a lot more kids out there who wanted to see you than just Solitaire." Danielle pulls Andrew into a hug. "And a lot more people, too." She pats him on the back, pulling back and looking Andrew in the eyes. "You got this, champ."
Andrew sighs, blushing a bit. "I know. I know I do...like, why is it getting to me so badly now? I just feel like one day, the whole thing's going to come tumbling down and I'm going to find out I'm not as good as I think I am, or they say I am. Like all of those critics are right. And I know it's ridiculous, I do, I just..." He trails off again, sighing, and looks to Danielle. "How the hell do you do it? Go through everything, so assured, so composed? You're amazing at it."
Danielle shakes her head, taking a deep breath. "As one of my favorite TV programs once said, do not mistake composure for ease. It's not easy. I get second-guessed all the time, especially as an agent. Do you have any idea how many times I've been lowballed in negotiations because of who I am? It takes all I've got not to lean over and pop them for being idiots." she sighs, leaning back in her chair. "You...you're better at this than you think you are. But then again, that's kind of the lesson for tonight."
Danielle grins sheepishly, and Andrew nods, offering his own smile. "I suppose so...hey, um, do you mind if I go take a shower? That gym session kind of killed me, and I need to decompress." Danielle nods, and Andrew stands, briefly leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on her lips before walking into the bathroom and closing the door with a sigh of relief. The shower starts up from inside, and Danielle looks up at the ceiling, smiling proudly to herself.
After a few seconds, Danielle stands up again, walking over to the nightstand, and opens the drawer, pulling the hotel towels from it as her smile melts into a wicked grin. A few seconds later, Andrew bellows from the shower, clearly audible inside the room. "DAAAAANIIIIII!" Danielle explodes into laughter, clutching her sides (and the towels) as we fade to black on Chase in hysterics.
A week before Bloody Assizes, I was happy to team with you, Ace, because I knew it was what Solitaire had always wanted. I knew one of my biggest fans in the entire world wanted to see her father and her favorite wrestler in the world, standing shoulder to shoulder instead of locking horns. And it was a great time. A great moment, really. I was happy at the end of the day, even knowing I would have to go into things with you the next week, because I knew that I had done something good for someone like her.
And then...two weeks later, in front of the entire world, you come out there with your family. With her. And you...under the pretense of a moment with my biggest fan...you use your own daughter as a tool to get another chance at the Imperial Title. You USED your own daughter. Your baby girl. The one you say you fight so hard for, the one you say you cut those corners for, the little girl whose happiness means more to you than anything else in this world ever can. Well, that's what you say, anyway, but who can really trust a word that comes out of your mouth now?
I made a mistake. I believed in Jake Conway. I believed in the idea that you could be a better man. I was wrong. I should have known I was wrong. I've been in the ring with you enough, Ace. I know who you are deep down, and I know what you'll do to succeed. Nothing is sacred to you. Not the honor of wrestling, not the bonds of friendship, not the sanctity of family, NOT EVEN YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! NOTHING stops the Ace, right?! Well, if all you want to be is the villain, then fine. I've done this dance before. You can be the villain. And I will gladly cut you down, because no matter how many times you tell me to not bet on dying a hero, I will TAKE that long shot!
Some men are born with blackness in their hearts, Ace. Like you. Like Spike. Like Roberto. You're loathsome human beings, and it always shines through. Even family can't save you. Either you find family just as rotten as yourself, or they can't lift you up high enough to escape the pull of your own ego and greed. For you, you didn't even want to pretend anymore. Ace, you're a bastard. I know, Andrew's using language unbecoming a hero to children. The best way to inspire children is to respect that they can think for themselves. One of the most important lessons any child can learn is that it's okay to be angry sometimes. It's okay to be angry when selfish and petty men do selfish and petty things. And this...I'd like to say this is a new low, but there's nothing new here.
This is the same Ace I've known since I first set foot in the big leagues, almost eight years ago. This is the Ace that's willing to lie, cheat, steal, use weapons, turn loved ones against each other. This is the Ace that's left a hollow in my family for years. Callie never really came home, Jake. There's always been the side-eyes, always the resentment. I suppose I should have expected that from you. After all, your tag partner turned screwing with my family into an art form. But your hunger doesn't have any end, and without any of my loved ones to use as weapons you, in some sick act of avaricious autocannibalism, turned on your own family. It makes me sick. You'd think I would've developed some tolerance to it at this point, but...well, some things just never stop hurting.
I'm not doing this because a greedy narcissist wanted another chance at a title. I'm doing this because a young woman that I've seen grow over these years asked me to. I'm doing it because my biggest fan asked me for a favor, one I've owed her for a long time. And when I put him back down to the mat, when I walk out of Lineage STILL your IWF Imperial Champion, I'll do it for her, and for all the fans in the stands, and for everyone watching at home. One voice made this match happen...well, two voices. Millions will bring it to an end.
Ace, you don't get the respect of your family name. You're not a man right now. You're a coward. You're a character, a mustache-twirling villain. I don't have a title I hide behind like that. I am Andrew Jacobsen. Strengths, flaws, mistakes and all. My success is mine, and my failure is mine, but it is on MY NAME. At the end of the night...Cologne will echo with the voice of the people, cheering me. Cheering my success. Cheering a hero triumphing over a villain. That roar of the crowd will drown you out, drown out every excuse you have and any thoughts that cross your mind, until all you can hear is eighteen thousand voices, each saying the same thing: We. Are. Unbreakable.
You better be ready. I know I am. See you Sunday.
Andrew blinks, shaking his head, and takes a step back, confused. After a few moments, the door opens, and a flustered-looking Danielle looks up, sighing in relief. "Oh, Andrew. Good! Come on in, you look beat. I've got some water on the counter and in the mini-fridge." Andrew nods slowly, staggering through the doorway. The moment his feet cross the threshold, the bag slips from his shoulder, thudding to the ground. Danielle beckons blindly to him, walking deeper into the room, and Andrew wearily swings the door shut behind himself, the lock clicking as it settles into the frame.
Andrew looks up from his feet, shuddering as a wave of involuntary pain wracks his body, and his eyes settle on the table in the room. Piles of letters lay upon it, and the table is surrounded by manila folders and the wreckage of what looked to be a fairly extensive filing system. He blinks a few times, trying to make out what he sees. "Dani...why are there a bunch of letters on the table? Where did you find room for all of those in your luggage?"
"I'm a very efficient packer." Danielle replies, walking over and sitting at one of the two chairs at the table. She pulls the other one out, patting the seat with her hand and smiling broadly at Andrew. "Come on over. I really think you need to see this." She beckons Andrew over, and he wearily complies, hand swinging out as if by reflex to grab the water. He thuds down in the second seat, looking over the sea of letters, and a perplexed expression scrawls itself across his face.
"Dani...these are all to me." Andrew begins picking through them, reading the letters over briefly as he does so. A faint smile plays across his face. "I remember this one. Toni from Allentown, Pennsylvania. Said she loved seeing me in action, wanted to see me live. We still haven't managed to get there, have we? Gotta fix that some day..." he chuckles to himself, opening the water and taking a gulp. "Ahh...how many are there?" Andrew's voice carries genuine wonderment.
Danielle grins. "I lost count after about the three hundred mark. This is what I've been doing all evening. Going through these letters for you. Trying to sort them all out." Andrew's eyebrows rise, and Danielle smiles. "Well, I've been telling you how much you mean to me and to everyone else...and that train ride of ours got me thinking: what if I showed you? And what better way to show you just how special you are than by reminding you how many people write to you every day? I'm glad I paid that intern to scan them to me when they arrive at headquarters..."
Danielle straightens one of the piles, mumbling to herself as Andrew grins. He can't help but laugh slightly to himself as he reads through them. "This is amazing. I remember these. I remember...all of these." Andrew laughs to himself again, shaking his head as he looks up at Danielle. "I guess...one by one, they kind of all blend together day by day. Seeing it all in front of you...it really brings it home."
"And those are just from this year, hero." Danielle grins, leaning over and kissing Andrew on the cheek. "If I had all of them printed, we'd be swimming in them. The point is..." she turns to face Andrew again, taking his hand. "I know you've had a lot on your mind. This is a big match. I guess...I just wanted to remind you there are a lot more kids out there who wanted to see you than just Solitaire." Danielle pulls Andrew into a hug. "And a lot more people, too." She pats him on the back, pulling back and looking Andrew in the eyes. "You got this, champ."
Andrew sighs, blushing a bit. "I know. I know I do...like, why is it getting to me so badly now? I just feel like one day, the whole thing's going to come tumbling down and I'm going to find out I'm not as good as I think I am, or they say I am. Like all of those critics are right. And I know it's ridiculous, I do, I just..." He trails off again, sighing, and looks to Danielle. "How the hell do you do it? Go through everything, so assured, so composed? You're amazing at it."
Danielle shakes her head, taking a deep breath. "As one of my favorite TV programs once said, do not mistake composure for ease. It's not easy. I get second-guessed all the time, especially as an agent. Do you have any idea how many times I've been lowballed in negotiations because of who I am? It takes all I've got not to lean over and pop them for being idiots." she sighs, leaning back in her chair. "You...you're better at this than you think you are. But then again, that's kind of the lesson for tonight."
Danielle grins sheepishly, and Andrew nods, offering his own smile. "I suppose so...hey, um, do you mind if I go take a shower? That gym session kind of killed me, and I need to decompress." Danielle nods, and Andrew stands, briefly leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on her lips before walking into the bathroom and closing the door with a sigh of relief. The shower starts up from inside, and Danielle looks up at the ceiling, smiling proudly to herself.
After a few seconds, Danielle stands up again, walking over to the nightstand, and opens the drawer, pulling the hotel towels from it as her smile melts into a wicked grin. A few seconds later, Andrew bellows from the shower, clearly audible inside the room. "DAAAAANIIIIII!" Danielle explodes into laughter, clutching her sides (and the towels) as we fade to black on Chase in hysterics.
A week before Bloody Assizes, I was happy to team with you, Ace, because I knew it was what Solitaire had always wanted. I knew one of my biggest fans in the entire world wanted to see her father and her favorite wrestler in the world, standing shoulder to shoulder instead of locking horns. And it was a great time. A great moment, really. I was happy at the end of the day, even knowing I would have to go into things with you the next week, because I knew that I had done something good for someone like her.
And then...two weeks later, in front of the entire world, you come out there with your family. With her. And you...under the pretense of a moment with my biggest fan...you use your own daughter as a tool to get another chance at the Imperial Title. You USED your own daughter. Your baby girl. The one you say you fight so hard for, the one you say you cut those corners for, the little girl whose happiness means more to you than anything else in this world ever can. Well, that's what you say, anyway, but who can really trust a word that comes out of your mouth now?
I made a mistake. I believed in Jake Conway. I believed in the idea that you could be a better man. I was wrong. I should have known I was wrong. I've been in the ring with you enough, Ace. I know who you are deep down, and I know what you'll do to succeed. Nothing is sacred to you. Not the honor of wrestling, not the bonds of friendship, not the sanctity of family, NOT EVEN YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! NOTHING stops the Ace, right?! Well, if all you want to be is the villain, then fine. I've done this dance before. You can be the villain. And I will gladly cut you down, because no matter how many times you tell me to not bet on dying a hero, I will TAKE that long shot!
Some men are born with blackness in their hearts, Ace. Like you. Like Spike. Like Roberto. You're loathsome human beings, and it always shines through. Even family can't save you. Either you find family just as rotten as yourself, or they can't lift you up high enough to escape the pull of your own ego and greed. For you, you didn't even want to pretend anymore. Ace, you're a bastard. I know, Andrew's using language unbecoming a hero to children. The best way to inspire children is to respect that they can think for themselves. One of the most important lessons any child can learn is that it's okay to be angry sometimes. It's okay to be angry when selfish and petty men do selfish and petty things. And this...I'd like to say this is a new low, but there's nothing new here.
This is the same Ace I've known since I first set foot in the big leagues, almost eight years ago. This is the Ace that's willing to lie, cheat, steal, use weapons, turn loved ones against each other. This is the Ace that's left a hollow in my family for years. Callie never really came home, Jake. There's always been the side-eyes, always the resentment. I suppose I should have expected that from you. After all, your tag partner turned screwing with my family into an art form. But your hunger doesn't have any end, and without any of my loved ones to use as weapons you, in some sick act of avaricious autocannibalism, turned on your own family. It makes me sick. You'd think I would've developed some tolerance to it at this point, but...well, some things just never stop hurting.
I'm not doing this because a greedy narcissist wanted another chance at a title. I'm doing this because a young woman that I've seen grow over these years asked me to. I'm doing it because my biggest fan asked me for a favor, one I've owed her for a long time. And when I put him back down to the mat, when I walk out of Lineage STILL your IWF Imperial Champion, I'll do it for her, and for all the fans in the stands, and for everyone watching at home. One voice made this match happen...well, two voices. Millions will bring it to an end.
Ace, you don't get the respect of your family name. You're not a man right now. You're a coward. You're a character, a mustache-twirling villain. I don't have a title I hide behind like that. I am Andrew Jacobsen. Strengths, flaws, mistakes and all. My success is mine, and my failure is mine, but it is on MY NAME. At the end of the night...Cologne will echo with the voice of the people, cheering me. Cheering my success. Cheering a hero triumphing over a villain. That roar of the crowd will drown you out, drown out every excuse you have and any thoughts that cross your mind, until all you can hear is eighteen thousand voices, each saying the same thing: We. Are. Unbreakable.
You better be ready. I know I am. See you Sunday.
Well howdy there pardner.