Mentioned: Morgana, Nikita, Adam Cameron, Seraph, Andrew Ashton,
Feelings Of…
Regret? Remorse? Enjoyment?
Gwenivere lay on her stomach on the bed in her hotel room, a metallic silver laptop open in front of her. She had it open to some person’s fan-site. It was dedicated to her. A bit surprised, Gwen had been when her friend Dominique had informed her of such as website, seeing as the majority of her fan base had been destroyed with her union with Frost Inc. She had emailed the webmaster, requesting if she could make updates every so often. The teenaged boy by the name of Maurico responded and frenetically accepted the offer. So, now she lay there, staring at the computer. The only program that was open was Microsoft Word. Written within was this:
“ Reaching out for something you've got to feel
While clutching to what you had thought was real…”
I laughed on the inside when I saw it. My placid exterior showed nothing, save for the contempt I felt for the non-loyal fans booing and hissing at me. Wa-ah, wa-ah, wa-ah. Tear. So what? I joined Frost Incorporated. Obviously, we’re doing something right if we have two belt holders in our stable. The World and National Champions. Frost Inc.? A mere step-ladder for me. I’ve several people now to back me up. Several strong people.
“ Kicking at a dead horse pleases you
No way of showing your gratitude
So many things you don't want to do
What is it? What have you got to lose…”
Anyway, as I watched my good friend Morgana beat on my tag team partner, I could feel my lips lusting to burst with laughter. I’ve never seen anything more hilarious in my life. Little Nikita jumped by Morgy. We won, yes. But honestly, Nikita is a downer on me. She’s holding me back. Who knows where I could have been if not thrown into this Lethal Lottery with her. I have been carrying her weight through this tournament.
“ What the hell
What is you think you're gonna find?
Hypocrite
Boredom sets into the boring mind…”
But no more. Soon, Nikita and I will move onto the End of the Road with the Lethal Lottery. It will pit me against Nikita… one of us to go on to face Adam Cameron, the other to recoil into the National Belt circuit, licking our wounds. My dear fans, I assure you, that will not be me. I may not much enjoy the idea of facing Adam, but what must be done, must be done...
“ Struggle within it suits you fine
Struggle within your ruin
Struggle within you seal your own coffin
Struggle within the struggling within…”
Gwenivere chewed on the edge of her bottom lip softly, as she read over what she had written so far. She stared blankly then at the blinking text line, sighing slightly. It wasn’t much… yet. She knew it would much longer once she got rid of her writer’s block. Fucking writer’s block. Wretched, horrible illness, with no known cure except for letting the damned thing take its course and drive one mad in the process. As she laid there, a cigarette now idly smouldering in the ashtray beside her, her legs lifted a bit and locked together at the ankle; she thought. She drew from her cigarette briefly, before putting it back into the ashtray. Her fingers extended to start tapping at the keyboard again.
“ Home is not a home it becomes a hell
Turning it into your prison cell
Advantages are taken, not handed out
While you struggle inside your hell…”
So, as I sit here, reading over what I’ve written, I wonder if you’ll all be there. Be where, you ask? Will you be there for my trials? Perhaps, my tribulations? Will you be there for me for everything other than my successes? I go into the ring to fight my own team, soon. I go to fight Seraph and the infamous Andrew Ashton. If I do lose, it won’t be by my hand. If anything, Nikita will be my downfall. I strive to put on a neutral face. I strive to not yank my fucking hair out when I see her fall in the ring. I strive… oh, how I strive.
“ Reaching out
Grabbing for something you’ve got to feel
Closing in
The pressure upon you is so real…”
To all ye who be a naysayer: It’s not easy being in this business. Hell, took me long enough to get noticed. And even now, people talk shit about me. Why? Are you jealous? Jealous that I’ve made it and you’re still sitting at home in your fucking trailers, drinking a beer, with your seventeen-odd, illegitimate “youngins” running around in dirty clothes, sporting mullets, firing BB Guns at each other? Do you enjoy talking trash about me to your six inch, black and white television screen as I come down the ramp? Wow, what a splendid life you do lead. Words of wisdom: I CAN’T FUCKING HEAR YOU! In fact, I could care less to be honest. Come to the N.E.W. events. Honestly. Come and yell your little fucking hearts out at me. C’mon, I dare ya. Go for it.
“ Struggle within it suits you fine
Struggle within your ruin
Struggle within you seal your own coffin
Struggle within the struggling within”
So, in conclusion, chéris, I leave you with this. The game is yours; whether it is wrestling, your friends or arguing with that one asshole at work. Be in it for yourself and no one else. That’s the rule of the game: survival of the fittest. Yes, I have loyalties. Yes, I have friends. But in the ring, there’s no holds barred. Allies and friends become nameless victims to fall to the canvas as you tower over them dominantly. Prove who’s the Alpha Wolf in your pack, and you prove who can crawl to the top of the mountain from the bottom ledge. People will doubt you. Even at the height of your game, people will doubt you. Don’t let the doubt make you doubt, as well.
“ Reaching out for something you've got to feel
While clutching to what you had thought was real
What the hell…?”
With that, a quick copy and paste job into an email and was sent off to Maurico. She sighed a bit and closed the laptop, rolling off the bed and stretching out her back. Her vertebras popped a few times, causing her to coo slightly with relief. She cracked her neck as well before wandering off to have a shower.
“What is you think you're gonna find
Hypocrite
Boredom sets into the boring mind
Struggle within it suits you fine
Struggle within your ruin
Struggle within you seal your own coffin
Struggle within the struggling within.”
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