Post by logansky on Mar 2, 2024 17:14:42 GMT
“My name is Logan Sk….”
He lets out a breath, shifting in the uncomfortable plastic chair. His hands were clasped together in front of him, knuckles turning white from how tight he was holding them.
“My name is Logan Johnson.”
His birth name. His actual name. The sky moniker was the first one he picked up. One of his earlier promos where he said the sky was the limit.
“I’m an addict.”
But young as he was, he forgot about Icarus. He didn’t have much schooling, but he had enough to know that. He figured everyone had to know that. About flying too close to the sun.
“I’ve been clean now for 5 years. This time at least. Had my ups and downs. It’s opiates mostly. Get injured a lot in my line of work. That’s how it started.”
He frowned slightly and shook his head.
“No, that’s why I tell myself. I used before that. Just the pain was a good excuse. I’m old enough when they’d give it to you for a headache, almost. It was easy to get them. Too easy. But I saw what it was doing to my family. What it did to my family.”
He looked around the circle, and his brothers and sisters in addiction. Complete strangers to him beyond their shared struggle. The demon on their back. He licked his dry lips.
“Been in a bad place lately. I want to use again. To stop caring and drift away on it. My knee is acting up. Giving me that excuse. It gets real hard to ignore it.”
“That’s why we’re here. Tell us about what’s going on.”
Logan lifted his head, looking at the moderator for a moment.
“That’s a hell of a long story.”
“We have time.”
_____________________________
The scene opens differently than usual. Logan is seated on a workout bench, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head. He is slowly unstrapping his gloves as he looks down at the floor.
“So here I am. My first shot at gold. They said I wasn’t gonna go anywhere. That I was just going to be trotted out in front of the crowd for the indy fans. That I wasn’t going to make it.”
He finishes removing his gloves and lets them fall to the mats on the floor and then lets out a breath.
“I know I am the underdog here. I’m old and battered. I’m new in this company. Nick Knight has been here for a long time. He’s the reigning champ. But these aren’t the only things I know.”
He slowly lifts his head and despite the confident timber of his voice, his eyes are tired.
“See Nicky and I, we’ve been down this road before. We’re no strangers to each other. I know exactly what I am getting myself into. This is not going to be a wrestling match. This isn’t going to be an exhibition of sportsmanship. This is going to be a fight. It’s not about who has more skill or talent. It’s about who has the will to keep going. Who has the fortitude to take another step when everything in your body hurts. Who can keep the lights on when buckets worth of your blood have spilled onto the sacred ring.”
He wipes his hands together, looking down at the callouses and misshapen knuckles from a lifetime of fighting.
“This is a match that will take time off your career. This is a match that could end my career. Nick is in the twilight of his prime and I know that I am well past mine. He’s a legend of the hardcore match and I am just a star of them. I know that if I value my body I should take care when I enter that ring.”
He lifts his gaze and stairs into the camera.
“But this is my shot at gold. Maybe the last shot that I will ever have. The last chance I have to prove that I am worth a damn. To prove that I still have it. To be something more then a footnote. So no, I am not going to take care. I am not going to play it safe. I am The Machine Logan Sky. I am going to keep doing this until the wheels fall off. For my legacy. For my family. For this sport, this spectacle, this god damn way of life.”
He pushes himself to his feet, lifting his hands to push the hood of his sweatshirt back.
“Nicky, son. You are gonna have to beat me until I can’t get up again. Because I need this fight. I need it more than I need food or air. So let’s show them how we do it in the Bing Halls. Let’s show them how we spill blood in the Legions. Let’s show em how we fight for a crowd of 20 for 50 bucks, and for the love of the life that we have chosen to live. I’ll see ya soon.”
He lets out a breath, shifting in the uncomfortable plastic chair. His hands were clasped together in front of him, knuckles turning white from how tight he was holding them.
“My name is Logan Johnson.”
His birth name. His actual name. The sky moniker was the first one he picked up. One of his earlier promos where he said the sky was the limit.
“I’m an addict.”
But young as he was, he forgot about Icarus. He didn’t have much schooling, but he had enough to know that. He figured everyone had to know that. About flying too close to the sun.
“I’ve been clean now for 5 years. This time at least. Had my ups and downs. It’s opiates mostly. Get injured a lot in my line of work. That’s how it started.”
He frowned slightly and shook his head.
“No, that’s why I tell myself. I used before that. Just the pain was a good excuse. I’m old enough when they’d give it to you for a headache, almost. It was easy to get them. Too easy. But I saw what it was doing to my family. What it did to my family.”
He looked around the circle, and his brothers and sisters in addiction. Complete strangers to him beyond their shared struggle. The demon on their back. He licked his dry lips.
“Been in a bad place lately. I want to use again. To stop caring and drift away on it. My knee is acting up. Giving me that excuse. It gets real hard to ignore it.”
“That’s why we’re here. Tell us about what’s going on.”
Logan lifted his head, looking at the moderator for a moment.
“That’s a hell of a long story.”
“We have time.”
_____________________________
The scene opens differently than usual. Logan is seated on a workout bench, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head. He is slowly unstrapping his gloves as he looks down at the floor.
“So here I am. My first shot at gold. They said I wasn’t gonna go anywhere. That I was just going to be trotted out in front of the crowd for the indy fans. That I wasn’t going to make it.”
He finishes removing his gloves and lets them fall to the mats on the floor and then lets out a breath.
“I know I am the underdog here. I’m old and battered. I’m new in this company. Nick Knight has been here for a long time. He’s the reigning champ. But these aren’t the only things I know.”
He slowly lifts his head and despite the confident timber of his voice, his eyes are tired.
“See Nicky and I, we’ve been down this road before. We’re no strangers to each other. I know exactly what I am getting myself into. This is not going to be a wrestling match. This isn’t going to be an exhibition of sportsmanship. This is going to be a fight. It’s not about who has more skill or talent. It’s about who has the will to keep going. Who has the fortitude to take another step when everything in your body hurts. Who can keep the lights on when buckets worth of your blood have spilled onto the sacred ring.”
He wipes his hands together, looking down at the callouses and misshapen knuckles from a lifetime of fighting.
“This is a match that will take time off your career. This is a match that could end my career. Nick is in the twilight of his prime and I know that I am well past mine. He’s a legend of the hardcore match and I am just a star of them. I know that if I value my body I should take care when I enter that ring.”
He lifts his gaze and stairs into the camera.
“But this is my shot at gold. Maybe the last shot that I will ever have. The last chance I have to prove that I am worth a damn. To prove that I still have it. To be something more then a footnote. So no, I am not going to take care. I am not going to play it safe. I am The Machine Logan Sky. I am going to keep doing this until the wheels fall off. For my legacy. For my family. For this sport, this spectacle, this god damn way of life.”
He pushes himself to his feet, lifting his hands to push the hood of his sweatshirt back.
“Nicky, son. You are gonna have to beat me until I can’t get up again. Because I need this fight. I need it more than I need food or air. So let’s show them how we do it in the Bing Halls. Let’s show them how we spill blood in the Legions. Let’s show em how we fight for a crowd of 20 for 50 bucks, and for the love of the life that we have chosen to live. I’ll see ya soon.”
Well howdy there pardner.