Post by Andrew Jacobsen on May 15, 2017 4:48:15 GMT
"Why haven't you done anything?" Andrew's voice rings out like a bell on a still day in the apartment, fury and indignation boiling under a professional demeanor that holds together as he paces the living room, but only just holding. "Why hasn't he been suspended? You're ready to fine him for a racial slur, but he hospitalizes a fan and...what, nothing? He needs to answer for what he's done."
Andrew drops onto the couch, taking a deep breath as the person on the other end of the line continues to speak. His expression clouds with frustration, and he speaks again, clearly trying to rein his anger in. "Yes. Yes, I know that he assaulted him, but...for Christ's sake, the guy'd been subdued by security. He wasn't going to do any damage. What Gillmen—Gilmore, whatever—did to him was unconscionable. There has to be some accountability somewhere. We need to draw a line!"
The voice on the other end keeps talking, and Andrew's eyes flash before he closes them, a grimace of frustration crossing over his face. He speaks through clenched teeth, exhaling slowly through his nose. "...right. Right. Of course. Legal matters. Right. Uh-huh. Okay. I...I see. Thank you for your time." He pulls the phone away from his head, hanging up, and slumps over at the shoulders for a few moments, frame quivering with anger before he abruptly hurls his phone into a loveseat across the way, a frustrated "SON OF A BITCH!" ripping itself from Andrew's lungs.
He slumps back into the couch as the door to the apartment opens and Danielle walks in, dressed professionally yet stylishly. She cocks an eyebrow, looking from Andrew to the phone half-embedded between the cushions of the couch, and sighs. "Judging by what I heard from the hall, I'm guessing brass aren't doing anything more about what happened last week. Am I right?"
Andrew nods soberly, looking up at her as exhaustion writes itself all across his face. "Yeah. They say that the legal ramifications of the guy attacking him are too ugly for them to do anything right now. Legal's got to sort itself out." He sighs, shaking his head. "I don't get it. Guy throws a slur over Twitter, they scoop his pockets. Beats the hell out of a fan, puts him in the hospital, and it's too complicated."
"Well, technically speaking, he was assaulted. James can claim self-defense." Danielle scoops up Andrew's phone and walks over to the couch, sitting down next to him and handing his phone back. Andrew takes it mutely, nodding, and Danielle reaches over, patting his shoulder. "Look, he...James lives in his own world. Facts, decency, humanity...none of that matters to him. He thinks he's right, and he won't let anything prove otherwise. You don't owe him any more thought. Legal's going to do what they need to, and if they don't...well, I heard there's a certain Pitbull that wants to drop him on his head once or eleven times."
Danielle grins at the mention of Will Fenell, and even Andrew has to crack a smile at the mention of the hot-blooded Southerner. "Tax raises comin', y'all," he snarks in a halfway-decent approximation of a Southern accent, "eleven for ya half-blind self. TAX RAISE!" Andrew's stoicism cracks, and he begins laughing, shaking his head. "God, that guy cracks me up sometimes. He's just so...energetic. Man moves a hundred miles an hour."
Danielle nods, chuckling to herself. "That he does. Andrew...you need to focus up. Night of the Immortals is less than three weeks out. I want you on your best form out there. Work with Cable. I don't care if he's an asshole. You need to be in the best shape you can be going into things, and that means working with Cable to win as quickly as you can. He's your opponent in two weeks. Tonight, he's your partner. Study him, study how he works in the ring. Look for anything you can use."
Andrew nods, exhaling slowly through his nose. "This job sucks sometimes, you know?" he chuckles halfheartedly, but much of the humor that had been in his voice is gone. "Like, I want to do what's right, but there's this voice in the back of my head telling me to let Cable wrestle the whole match, wear himself out, set an easier stage. I've always wanted to be the best, right? Why not do it easier? But...I don't want to do that. That's not the right thing to do...but is it the smart thing to do?"
"No." Danielle answers smoothly and firmly, shaking her head. "No, it's not. You don't get ahead by betraying what brought you to the dance. You know that, I know that...and you knew I'd say that, didn't you?" she gets a half-smile on her face, and Andrew nods sheepishly, unable to keep his own grin from spreading across his face again.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Andrew pauses, grinning. "You know, I should send Charlie Velez a thank you card. Recommending you as an agent is the best thing he ever did in his career." Danielle rolls her eyes, groaning, and her free hand grabs a pillow behind her, winging it at Andrew's face. Andrew throws his arms up to block, laughing. "Hey! Am I wrong?" Danielle shakes her head, laughing, and Andrew reaches over, hooking his arm under Danielle's and pulling her closer to give her a gentle kiss. Danielle leans into the kiss a little before pulling back, eyes twinkling, and Andrew smiles down at her. "I love you. And...thanks. For everything. Now...you're probably wanting to get out of your work clothes. I shouldn't hold you up."
Danielle nods, standing up, and groans, kicking off her flats. "Oh God, you have no idea. I swear, if you had to wear half of the crap I do on a daily basis, you'd go insane. Be back once I decivilize myself." Danielle walks out of the living room and into the bedroom, and Andrew watches her go with a fond grin on his face, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. He pauses, looking back down at his phone again, and his thumb flicks through his contacts until he comes to a familiar name.
Andrew's thumb hovers over the number, and he closes his eyes before tapping the number and bringing the phone to his ear. We fade out on Andrew looking at the ceiling, quietly mouthing "Please pick up" as the phone rings into the silence.
I'm really glad I'm getting the opportunity that I am this week. After...last week's nightmare, it's nice to get back down to the basics and re-immerse myself in what makes wrestling so much more than just a competition for me. When you get in the ring with men you know, men you understand, and you try to push each other to go just that step further? That's where wrestling shines. That's where you get the best matches, that's where you see the hearts and souls of the men and women who're between those ropes laid bare for the world. There's no better way to know a wrestler than to step in the ring with them, and I know both of the men I'm wrestling this week pretty well.
Bob, we've never been super-close. We've crossed paths now and again, but at the end of the day, we're work acquaintances. What I've seen from you, though, especially since you won that Invictus Championship, is nothing short of remarkable. For all the chaos and crazy, melodramatic stuff that goes on backstage, you just seem to let it all roll off your back. You stand back up, you keep on pushing, and you never forget to have fun with yourself. This isn't work for you, this is something you enjoy, and that...that's the beauty of this all. You can be a man like Bob Pooler and you can make it. Bien joué, mon ami.
I'll admit, I'm carrying a little unfinished business into things with you, Bob. See, Nighthawk was supposed to have a crack at that Invictus Championship you hold. He was supposed to get an opportunity to really break through and show the rest of the world what everyone who's ever stepped in the ring with him knows, deep down in their hearts: just why he EARNED the name "The Wrestling Machine." But one accident changed all that. He didn't get that chance. He may never get that chance again. So I feel a pressure, no, an OBLIGATION, to do my best by him and you, and give you a taste of what you missed out on. It isn't going to be easy, but then again, what in life that's truly worth it is?
Jayson, you know that all too well. Hawk...Tristan was training you. I remember dropping in on a few of those sessions. You were busting yourself to keep up, drenched in sweat, aching in places you didn't know you had...but at the end of the day, you always picked yourself back up and you came back. Never really complained. Never hesitated. You were there to learn, and that...that's commendable. You've come a hell of a long way from the Motor City Mafia, man. I'm proud of you.
But the lessons aren't going to stop, because you're not done learning. You're never done learning. Jayson, you've got the potential to be truly great in you, and I want to do everything we can to bring it out to the forefront. Keep on pushing, keep on fighting and learning...and that kind of growth takes some hands-on instruction. This isn't going to be a drill, Jayson. There's no break in the middle, there's no chance to hit pause. I'm going at this like I would any other match, and Cable? Cable's not going to be nearly as merciful as I am. You're going to have to bring the big guns, man. Top banana time. Step up, 'cause you can't afford to slip up. I know you've got it in you. Just gotta show me and show the world.
Now, there's one last thing I have to address, because everyone's going to notice if I don't. Cable. Whatever we've got between us, whatever happens at Night of the Immortals...that's not what's going on here. Come Sacrifice, I'm going to treat you like I would my tag partner if he were anyone else on the roster. I'll hold my end of the bargain up. You hold yours up. We've got plenty of time for beating the hell out of each other. Right now, you and I have to focus on this. I don't care how good you think you are, I don't even care how good you really are, if you take your eye off the ball with men like Bob and Jayson across the ring from you, they're not going to let you have time to regret it. I want Night of the Immortals to be here as much as you do, maybe even more...but there's a time and a place, and neither is here or now. Focus up. Do what's right.
And gentlemen? Good luck to you all. See you out there.
Andrew drops onto the couch, taking a deep breath as the person on the other end of the line continues to speak. His expression clouds with frustration, and he speaks again, clearly trying to rein his anger in. "Yes. Yes, I know that he assaulted him, but...for Christ's sake, the guy'd been subdued by security. He wasn't going to do any damage. What Gillmen—Gilmore, whatever—did to him was unconscionable. There has to be some accountability somewhere. We need to draw a line!"
The voice on the other end keeps talking, and Andrew's eyes flash before he closes them, a grimace of frustration crossing over his face. He speaks through clenched teeth, exhaling slowly through his nose. "...right. Right. Of course. Legal matters. Right. Uh-huh. Okay. I...I see. Thank you for your time." He pulls the phone away from his head, hanging up, and slumps over at the shoulders for a few moments, frame quivering with anger before he abruptly hurls his phone into a loveseat across the way, a frustrated "SON OF A BITCH!" ripping itself from Andrew's lungs.
He slumps back into the couch as the door to the apartment opens and Danielle walks in, dressed professionally yet stylishly. She cocks an eyebrow, looking from Andrew to the phone half-embedded between the cushions of the couch, and sighs. "Judging by what I heard from the hall, I'm guessing brass aren't doing anything more about what happened last week. Am I right?"
Andrew nods soberly, looking up at her as exhaustion writes itself all across his face. "Yeah. They say that the legal ramifications of the guy attacking him are too ugly for them to do anything right now. Legal's got to sort itself out." He sighs, shaking his head. "I don't get it. Guy throws a slur over Twitter, they scoop his pockets. Beats the hell out of a fan, puts him in the hospital, and it's too complicated."
"Well, technically speaking, he was assaulted. James can claim self-defense." Danielle scoops up Andrew's phone and walks over to the couch, sitting down next to him and handing his phone back. Andrew takes it mutely, nodding, and Danielle reaches over, patting his shoulder. "Look, he...James lives in his own world. Facts, decency, humanity...none of that matters to him. He thinks he's right, and he won't let anything prove otherwise. You don't owe him any more thought. Legal's going to do what they need to, and if they don't...well, I heard there's a certain Pitbull that wants to drop him on his head once or eleven times."
Danielle grins at the mention of Will Fenell, and even Andrew has to crack a smile at the mention of the hot-blooded Southerner. "Tax raises comin', y'all," he snarks in a halfway-decent approximation of a Southern accent, "eleven for ya half-blind self. TAX RAISE!" Andrew's stoicism cracks, and he begins laughing, shaking his head. "God, that guy cracks me up sometimes. He's just so...energetic. Man moves a hundred miles an hour."
Danielle nods, chuckling to herself. "That he does. Andrew...you need to focus up. Night of the Immortals is less than three weeks out. I want you on your best form out there. Work with Cable. I don't care if he's an asshole. You need to be in the best shape you can be going into things, and that means working with Cable to win as quickly as you can. He's your opponent in two weeks. Tonight, he's your partner. Study him, study how he works in the ring. Look for anything you can use."
Andrew nods, exhaling slowly through his nose. "This job sucks sometimes, you know?" he chuckles halfheartedly, but much of the humor that had been in his voice is gone. "Like, I want to do what's right, but there's this voice in the back of my head telling me to let Cable wrestle the whole match, wear himself out, set an easier stage. I've always wanted to be the best, right? Why not do it easier? But...I don't want to do that. That's not the right thing to do...but is it the smart thing to do?"
"No." Danielle answers smoothly and firmly, shaking her head. "No, it's not. You don't get ahead by betraying what brought you to the dance. You know that, I know that...and you knew I'd say that, didn't you?" she gets a half-smile on her face, and Andrew nods sheepishly, unable to keep his own grin from spreading across his face again.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Andrew pauses, grinning. "You know, I should send Charlie Velez a thank you card. Recommending you as an agent is the best thing he ever did in his career." Danielle rolls her eyes, groaning, and her free hand grabs a pillow behind her, winging it at Andrew's face. Andrew throws his arms up to block, laughing. "Hey! Am I wrong?" Danielle shakes her head, laughing, and Andrew reaches over, hooking his arm under Danielle's and pulling her closer to give her a gentle kiss. Danielle leans into the kiss a little before pulling back, eyes twinkling, and Andrew smiles down at her. "I love you. And...thanks. For everything. Now...you're probably wanting to get out of your work clothes. I shouldn't hold you up."
Danielle nods, standing up, and groans, kicking off her flats. "Oh God, you have no idea. I swear, if you had to wear half of the crap I do on a daily basis, you'd go insane. Be back once I decivilize myself." Danielle walks out of the living room and into the bedroom, and Andrew watches her go with a fond grin on his face, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. He pauses, looking back down at his phone again, and his thumb flicks through his contacts until he comes to a familiar name.
WARREN
Andrew's thumb hovers over the number, and he closes his eyes before tapping the number and bringing the phone to his ear. We fade out on Andrew looking at the ceiling, quietly mouthing "Please pick up" as the phone rings into the silence.
I'm really glad I'm getting the opportunity that I am this week. After...last week's nightmare, it's nice to get back down to the basics and re-immerse myself in what makes wrestling so much more than just a competition for me. When you get in the ring with men you know, men you understand, and you try to push each other to go just that step further? That's where wrestling shines. That's where you get the best matches, that's where you see the hearts and souls of the men and women who're between those ropes laid bare for the world. There's no better way to know a wrestler than to step in the ring with them, and I know both of the men I'm wrestling this week pretty well.
Bob, we've never been super-close. We've crossed paths now and again, but at the end of the day, we're work acquaintances. What I've seen from you, though, especially since you won that Invictus Championship, is nothing short of remarkable. For all the chaos and crazy, melodramatic stuff that goes on backstage, you just seem to let it all roll off your back. You stand back up, you keep on pushing, and you never forget to have fun with yourself. This isn't work for you, this is something you enjoy, and that...that's the beauty of this all. You can be a man like Bob Pooler and you can make it. Bien joué, mon ami.
I'll admit, I'm carrying a little unfinished business into things with you, Bob. See, Nighthawk was supposed to have a crack at that Invictus Championship you hold. He was supposed to get an opportunity to really break through and show the rest of the world what everyone who's ever stepped in the ring with him knows, deep down in their hearts: just why he EARNED the name "The Wrestling Machine." But one accident changed all that. He didn't get that chance. He may never get that chance again. So I feel a pressure, no, an OBLIGATION, to do my best by him and you, and give you a taste of what you missed out on. It isn't going to be easy, but then again, what in life that's truly worth it is?
Jayson, you know that all too well. Hawk...Tristan was training you. I remember dropping in on a few of those sessions. You were busting yourself to keep up, drenched in sweat, aching in places you didn't know you had...but at the end of the day, you always picked yourself back up and you came back. Never really complained. Never hesitated. You were there to learn, and that...that's commendable. You've come a hell of a long way from the Motor City Mafia, man. I'm proud of you.
But the lessons aren't going to stop, because you're not done learning. You're never done learning. Jayson, you've got the potential to be truly great in you, and I want to do everything we can to bring it out to the forefront. Keep on pushing, keep on fighting and learning...and that kind of growth takes some hands-on instruction. This isn't going to be a drill, Jayson. There's no break in the middle, there's no chance to hit pause. I'm going at this like I would any other match, and Cable? Cable's not going to be nearly as merciful as I am. You're going to have to bring the big guns, man. Top banana time. Step up, 'cause you can't afford to slip up. I know you've got it in you. Just gotta show me and show the world.
Now, there's one last thing I have to address, because everyone's going to notice if I don't. Cable. Whatever we've got between us, whatever happens at Night of the Immortals...that's not what's going on here. Come Sacrifice, I'm going to treat you like I would my tag partner if he were anyone else on the roster. I'll hold my end of the bargain up. You hold yours up. We've got plenty of time for beating the hell out of each other. Right now, you and I have to focus on this. I don't care how good you think you are, I don't even care how good you really are, if you take your eye off the ball with men like Bob and Jayson across the ring from you, they're not going to let you have time to regret it. I want Night of the Immortals to be here as much as you do, maybe even more...but there's a time and a place, and neither is here or now. Focus up. Do what's right.
And gentlemen? Good luck to you all. See you out there.
Well howdy there pardner.