Post by Deleted on Oct 30, 2013 11:36:21 GMT
Every action, has an equal and opposite reaction.
A statement made famous by Sir Isaac Newton. A statement that is overused because it is simple as it is genius. Everything you do in life starts a ripple effect. Something as simple as what time you wake up in the morning. If you sleep in, if you have one or two spoons of sugar in your coffee in the morning. Everything that happens effects something else. This is prevalent throughout history.
And in my life.
If I had done things a little different, if things that others had done were done later or earlier. Well I’d be a different man. I’d be in a different place. I may even know what the word “happiness” means. But that isn’t how my life unfolded. That isn’t how the pieces dropped. I am a void. An empty vessel. I’m not a complicated man in fact I’m very simple. I’m the simplest man you will ever meet. I do things for one reason and one reason alone.
Myself.
I do what I want, when I want because that is how I’m programmed. I tried to fight it, I tried to resist but it made the hold greater. It was like an elastic band was around me. The harder I pushed and stretched the harder it would snap back.
I knew what my actions were….
I just didn’t know…
Nor was I ready for…
The reaction….
Friday October 19 2012 Montgomery Alabama.
The club was moving. Pumping. Men and women talked amongst themselves as the music pulsed from speakers all around. A woman dressed in black leather moved around the floor, men wanted her, women hated her. She was the Cleopatra of the club. A simmering being full of sexual energy that inspired lust. He body moved like a snake to the music, slow and sexy. Overconfident young men tried to get close, but her laugh and attitude was the venom that infected their bloodstream.
She stopped locking eyes with someone across the room. The one man who seemed to be her equal in confidence and status. She moved closer waiting for a sign he was into it. An arrogant grin, a small nod and a slight movement from his hand was all she needed.
She moved through the crowd, more men stepping in her way. As she neared her breathing became faster, his eyes seemed to stare through her skin and bones to her very soul. She swallowed hard and felt the butterflies of an inexperienced virginal teen, almost as if it was her first time noticing a man. She got to the table and stopped, she could feel her cheeks becoming red. The man smiled at her, a cheeky almost boyish grin, but oh so perfect.
She swallowed hard not even able to get out a coherent greeting. But none was needed. The man got to his feet, perfectly dressed in stylish designer jeans, a tight button up silk shirt that seemed to hug his perfectly formed body. His long blonde hair was tied back showing his handsome features. She was in heaven. The man came close and without a word pulled her smaller body close against his. She sputtered trying to say something, not an objection, no anger, not even acceptance. Everything about him seemed perfect, his looks, his eyes and even his smell.
They left the club, out into the night. The cold air hitting them in the face and as they moved away her confidence grew. She took the upper hand slamming him against the wall next to the club planting her lips on his. They entwined as the lust took hold. She wanted him, but not in a simple lust way. She burned and was obsessed with having him take her but a voice destroyed the illusion.
“What the hell is going on here?”
A young blonde girl. Innocence in her eyes mixed with anger and a deep pain that could only be created by an unfaithful lover. She studied them and shook her head as the other woman’s confusion was replaced by an unmistakable urge to lash out. The man looked away faking embarrassment and shame. The other woman went to lash out but he pulled her back shaking his head, and with that she understood. She was the trespasser her. The usurper. She turned and walked away into the darkness.
“Becca….I”
And with that it happened. A hard slap echoing through the peaceful night air. Others who had stumbled from the cub all turned to see what happened. The tears in her eyes, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to hold in the anger and pain that the indiscretion has caused. Her eyes became windows into her heart that seemed to slowly shatter into a million pieces.
“I don’t know who you are anymore…..”
Her words filled with emotion and heartache. He went to answer but he realized she was right. She didn’t know who he is or was. She doesn’t know that for him this was as natural as breathing. An action of lust and want. Not love. He didn’t know what love is. She did all too well. And now that love was on full display. Not through gentle words or the soft caress of a lovers fingertips. But through pain and anger and fear. They stood staring at one another for what seemed to be an eternity……
“Well Mr Laszlo. It seems as if you and I have both been beaten by “the future” of IWF. Killian Creed.”
Nero slowly smiles. No touch of disappointment in his voice. A strange calm with an air of acceptance.
“I can’t and wont be angry about this. I stepped in the ring with someone who should be a champion here. A young man who has become the “it factor” of IWF. A guy who was good enough to be selected to stand at Spike Kane’s side. Now I don’t bow to anyone who should be foolish enough to call themselves king, but if there was a king of wrestling based off who they are and what they’ve accomplished. Well you could make the argument that Spike Kane is it.”
“But unlike most people I don’t care either way who has that shiny gold title.”
“But I look at you Mr Laszlo and I see someone who has wasted potential. Someone who is on that thin line of making it and fading away into obscurity. See Mike while I stepped away from wrestling I still kept one eye on NCW. I saw you and watched you develop into a respected member of the roster. An impressive newcomer. Up until you ran into some real competition.”
“Like say, Roberto Verona.”
Nero laughs to himself and smiles.
“I watched as you fumbled and failed month after month trying to take the NCW world title from him and in the end you just couldn’t. Week after week, month after month you rambled on and on about how Verona cheated you and you were the better man but what happened Laszlo?. You failed. And this seems to be a running theme in your career. NCW folded and IWF started and while most people wanted a fresh start and got one you just followed your old ways.”
“You faced people you were supposed to beat and did, then when you faced anyone with talent you failed. You’ve been able to beat Rob Diamond but anyone else you stepped in against you kind of faded away. Spike Kane embarrassed you yet you still bait him on twitter. You want to poke and probe people who are better than you instead of focusing on getting better, on improving. Becoming something more….”
“Hell you should have beaten that sniveling little worm Davey Ortega but even he was able to beat you. You should of won that one Mike. You should have beaten him and moved on to bigger and better things. But while you are strong and athletic you’re weak in the mind. Ortega verbally accosted me and told the world he was going to beat me but when he got in the ring I dropped him and left him laying in a pile of sweat and disappointment.”
“The same smell that sticks to you and follows you wherever you go Mike”
Nero nods and smiles.
“But believe me, I get how this sounds and how you feel. I mean who am I to question your career and your motivations right?. I’m just the little brother of Angel, I sit in his shadow. I’ve had a handful of matches in IWF. But what have I done in those matches Mike?. I lost to Kingsley, I avenged that loss while also bitch slapping Joe Everyman, I beat Ryan “overhyped” Shane and Davey Ortega, really I’ve done nothing in this company.”
“And I wouldn’t blame you for dismissing me and verbally ripping me apart and telling me how good you are…”
“But what if you showed yourself to be above the average simian moron?. What if you took my advice and saw the wisdom in my words?. I’m not here to verbally tear you apart or make you look stupid. Hell to tell you the truth wins and losses and titles don’t mean anything to me. I do this, because there is nothing else for me to do. It’s in my blood and I have no delusions of grandeur. Hell I want you to win Mike…I want you to succeed…..”
Nero smiles again and laughs.
“That’s the kind of guy I am Mike…..I support, I nurture….”
Nero pauses for a moment and sighs.
“Then we have Redemption. Someone who chooses to compete under a mask because he wants to hide from the world. But what redemption do you seek?. What act of sin are you wanting to be saved from?. What error?....what evil?....honestly I don’t care. I don’t care who you are under that mask…..”
“You could be Prince Charles for all I care…”
“I know you’re not….”
“You don’t have a British accent….”
“And pretty sure Prince Charles isn’t 6’4….”
“But the fact remains that you could be anyone under there. And that part of it excites me. Not the person you could be, but the person you’re not. You’ve had one match, one match against another newcomer who failed to even say one word against you but that’s not what you have this time my ambiguous friend.”
“You have two men who will be your roadblocks, challenging you to show how good you really are. It may even give people who actually care who you are hints on it.”
“All I know for sure is that three men will enter the ring on sacrifice and face each other to find out who is better on that night. It’s the most primal of feelings, the more aggressive show of the human condition. See Humans crave chaos and conflict, we preach order and peace but what is the most popular type of movie and games?. Violence and conflict. Between nations, factions and men. That’s why IWF is popular……”
“Gentlemen we will meet on Monday, and at that time you will see the best Nero Blake on offer…may god have mercy on your souls….”
Well howdy there pardner.