Post by Evan De Parker on Jun 2, 2012 14:08:27 GMT -4
”AROUND the world and home again! That‘s the sailor‘s way!
…Faster! Faster! Faster! FASTER!”
”There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going.
There's no knowing where we're rowing
Or which way the river's flowing…”
…Faster! Faster! Faster! FASTER!”
”There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going.
There's no knowing where we're rowing
Or which way the river's flowing…”
”You doubted me.”
We blink into a vivid world of color. We are located in the basement of Evan Envi’s Baltimore house, a consistent location for the better part of the past two weeks. The basement walls are covered with images captured through time… Time Magazine clippings, newspaper articles, retro magazines, shampoo advertisements, vinyl record covers—anything and everything. There were all types of shapes and colors, humbled by the pale lighting throughout the basement.
A hefty tension looms as Envi, dressed in a white t-shirt which simply featured an angry bull on the front, in striking detail, charging toward an invisible target… Charging at whatever or whomever was standing across from Evan Envi. Sienna sits, dressed just as casually in a purple-and-teal butterfly top over white pants that hugged her legs, which were currently entangled around one another in a scene reminiscent of childlike defiance.
Envi sits in a black recliner, which complements the black couch that we see Sienna Harrison half-lying, half-sitting across. She had apparently been in the midst of turning on the television before Evan’s comment halted her.
”Errr… Excuse me? I had no doubt in my mind that you could beat Yarmouth. What are y--?”
”You. Doubted. Me. You said yourself that you wanted to see if I was going to ‘stick around this time.’”
Evan sighs, a troubled expression written across his face. He’s not looking directly at his sister, but rather gazing across the room, his eyes fixated on a giant pile of nothingness. His cheeks have turned a slight shade of rose, and his voice cracks a bit as he continues.
”And I’m still here. I’m still the North American Champion and I’m still consistently delivering the best matches in Action Packed Wrestling. Hands-down. Yet, here we are two weeks into this bitch and I still don’t see my name listed in the preliminary brackets for the Test for the Best.”
Sienna rolls her eyes. ”Not yet.”
”I should have been priority! I am the face of Meltdown, Sienna. I run this damn show. They should have known from the beginning that Evan Envi is the guy that needs to be representing the fresh faces and youth of this company.” Evan scoffs. ”Instead? The two people qualified for that position are Steve Stryker and that… rodent.”
Sienna finds some unadulterated amusement in Evan’s dismay, though once she’s able to successfully mask her incessant laughter, she fans at her brother as if dismissing his negative concerns. Her actions receive an arched eyebrow in response.
”Alright, first of all, you’re getting way too worked up over something that’s barely even gotten off the ground yet. Second… You get to face Stryker this week. I see it this way—you beat him, you eliminate any chance of being overlooked for the tournament. If you really do stick around and you focus, that is.”
”Mmhmm.” Evan smirks up at his sister from his position in the recliner. He raises a single finger in the air to pronounce a declaration, as if just coming to some grand conclusion. ”When I beat Stryker, it’ll mean so much more than just that, Sienna. Steve Stryker is undefeated. Undefeated! Even I can’t say that. It’s no Undisputed Championship, but it’s a statement.
“And that’s really why I’m here, right? To make a statement… Yeah. And I understand why you might be a little concerned because he’s damn good. But-- you give me all of these shifty little looks like you’re doubting me and…”
Evan trails off suddenly locking eyes with Sienna, but if you were to ask her, it was the oddest thing. For the longest time she had managed to convince herself that it was in her head, but Evan-- this Evan Envi seemed like a far cry from her little brother, Evan Harrison at times. In times of stress, she could note that he even appeared different physically. And this was undoubtedly one of those times. His skin, once bronzed from hours in the sunlight appeared to be several shades whiter. His look toward her wasn’t the look somebody would give somebody they knew, whether they loved or hated them.
Instead, Evan Envi gave Sienna the look that a man might give a teenager if he rear-ended him on the highway.
”As a matter of fact, I don’t think I need your negative energy here.”
”…What the hell is wrong with you?”
”You. You’re not signing on to be my manager, you’re not supporting me, you’re not doing shit. So why are you around?”
Sienna’s face drops, shocked at the sudden outburst.
”I am supporting you. I shot a Canadian cop in the face with a potato megaphone for you, damnit. I just gave you advice on how you can get into the Test for the Best tournament. What do you want from me?”
Evan lowers his head and a heavy sigh-- an exhausted one, almost-- escapes his mouth. He looks up at Sienna and shrugs, offering a half-smile. His muscles, which were once tensed, ease in relax all at once.
”Outburst. It’s the lack of sleep. I’m sorry.”
Sienna chooses not to respond to the reasoning, and had decided a while ago that she would tune out any apology he was going to offer. As crazy as it seemed, Sienna Harrison couldn’t hold her brother responsible for whatever “Evan Envi” said to her. He was… Almost a different mindset, if you were to ask her.
To call him a different personality was a bit extreme, but to call him a different train of thought-- a distorted character in reality, was not entirely inaccurate. Many friends, family, fans, and wrestlers would try to argue it, but no one knew Evan Harrison better than his older sister. No one. Nobody else had watched that kid grow. No one had paid enough attention to Evan until he made something of himself in high school… And everyone paid attention when he made something of himself at the age of eighteen. A full-time college student and a full-time professional wrestler; a successful one at that. Yeah, everyone paid attention then.
To an extent, Sienna got the same attention for her stint in the business. She was no stranger to the midnight phone calls from some jackass working for the dirt sheets that may have been lucky enough to steal their numbers while they were ordering carry-out or something. She knew how sincerity seemed like a diluted concept when everybody and their mother wants to be your best friend, just ‘cause you’re famous.
She also knew how fame changed people. And this may or may not have been the product of one of the most viral cases.
”You just gonna stare at me?”
”No. I think I should probably head out. I’m going to go home and consider my use, or my detriment to you as a professional wrestler.”
Evan rolls his eyes and throws his hands lifelessly into the air, illustrating his current lack of vocabulary to ease the situation.
”Didn’t mean it. I was talkin’ out of my ass.”
”No, no. Don’t worry. You’ve given me something to think about, Ev. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sienna quickly collects her things, scooping them into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder and making her swift exit from the Envi residence. Evan casts a friendly wave in her direction but Sienna never turns around again to see it. He closes and locks the door behind her in response, disappearing from frame for a bit as he does this. Within seconds, he returns to the living room and kneels down in front of the camera which had been recording the entire event.
”Well. That’s one problem that we’ve already addressed this evening. Now how about you, Steven?”
And abruptly, we cut to black.
“Is it raining?
Is it snowing?
Is a hurricane a-blowing?
…Not a speck of light is showing
so the danger must be growing…”
Is it snowing?
Is a hurricane a-blowing?
…Not a speck of light is showing
so the danger must be growing…”
We blink into color again, where Evan Envi sits before us in complete silence. This time, the North American Championship is draped over his right shoulder, the lights coming from his ceiling shining off of the gold, casting the occasional shimmer in the lens of the camera.
”Hitman, I’m going to go ahead and say that you’re the biggest challenge Meltdown’s thrown at me thus far. Time and time again you’re upstaging the number one contender for my title, and with an impressive win-loss record to boot. I saw that you were my opponent this week and I got a little… What’s the word I’m searching for?”
Evan lowers his voice and narrows his eyes into the camera, as if legitimately questioning somebody on the other side.
”I got a little nervous. Because while I may be the North American Champion, you have something that I want. Even though my title’s not on the line, I have something to lose in being taken out by the Hitman… And that’s credibility. I look like I shouldn’t be the face of this brand if I eat that three count, don’t ya think? I look like I wouldn’t make it in the Test for the Best tournament.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, Evan’s expression returns to an all-too-familiar cold, but only for a few seconds. His eyes pierce through the lens of the camera as his lips twitch to form a smirk. A trademark.
”I can’t let that happen. I need to be there. I need the Undisputed Championship and as I said before, this title right here is the precursor.”
Evan runs a finger over the nameplate, a warm expression crossing his face as his hands run over the face of the championship.
”And you know something, man-- you can’t just go around with a name like ‘Hitman’ if you’re not hot shit, so I’m challenging you to bring everything you have. I have something that I apparently need to prove to that idiot Diamond, and I can’t let that get screwed up by you half-assing it in my main event. I don’t think I’m gonna have to worry about that though, despite your failure to say a damn word up to this point.
“I trust that you’re gonna deliver. You know that a victory over me puts you right behind your rodent ‘friend’ for this North American Title. And that’s more momentum heading toward a possible Test for the Best tournament.”
Evan smirks at whomever may be looking at him through the other side through half-lidded eyes.
”But let’s make one thing crystal.
“You’re not gonna beat me. Even a Hitman won’t be enough to stop me-- because I’m used to having a target on my back. Everywhere I go, it’s like gold is attracted to me. And it’s something everybody wants… The only gold that’s alluded me is a World Title of some sort and that’s why I have to give it more than 100% every night. Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten comfortable because I knew exactly how I could beat all of my opponents. And it’s something I warned myself about before I even signed a contract here: When you get comfortable, you make mistakes. I’m done with comfy. I don’t know what your weaknesses are, Hitman. I haven’t seen anybody truly expose them yet.”
Evan pauses, glancing away for only a second before returning his leer to the camera.
”I’m willing to be the guy that does it though. And this one is really gonna be fun because I know what your goals are here… It really hits home because they’re the same as mine. To make it to Overdrive and capture the Undisputed Championship. The big time. And it really makes me nervous when I think about that, Steven, because when you’re hungry and fighting for the same thing I’m fighting for, I start thinking you’re trying to take me out.
“I start to get these… Haha, these silly ideas in my head that maybe this Hitman crap isn‘t such crap at all, and maybe that‘s actually your motive. Maybe Monday, when you‘re forced to give it your all and you find that maybe you‘re unable to live up to the very nickname you gave yourself, you‘re going to have to do a little something extra. And that something extra might include breaking my arm, or my neck, or my spine.
“Hitman.”
Evan gives one small, dry laugh after this, but his expression doesn’t change. The seriousness never exits his tone, and instead he gives the lens an inquisitive look.
”I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you’d do that to me.”
Evan blinks several times and backs away from the camera a bit, giving us a greater look at the room, confirming that it’s the same one from before. Several of the deceased wrestlers and celebrities plastered against the wall of the basement seem to stare back at us.
They fall out of focus as we concentrate on the exasperated face of Evan Envi. For one reason or another, beads of sweat have formed on his forehead and he casually lifts a forearm up, wiping it away as he continues.
”I’ve prepared for that scenario, and it doesn’t end well for you. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Blues, but I’ve got a special track waitin’ for ya, Steven. Live, loud, and dedicated specifically to you.
“To put it explicitly, I plan on slamming your head so hard into the canvas that I fracture your skull. I’d like to end your career this Monday, Hitman, because if I don’t do that, I fear that you’ll be that gnat that never goes away. You want my spotlight. You want my title. You want a World Championship. We want the same things and that’s NOT okay! You’re gonna need to go. I’m putting you out.”
Evan opens his mouth as if to say something else, but stops, casting an icy glare into the lens toward “The Hitman” Steve Stryker. He repeats himself in a considerably lower tone.
”I’m putting you out.”
Inexplicably, Evan laughs. It’s not a dry, emotionless laugh before but a rather light-hearted one which seemed alien to the environment considering the preceding tone.
”I won’t be stupid like the others and turn my back on you. There will be no Bounty Kill this Monday night on Meltdown. I’ve given myself the night off from being hunted and I am going to be the hunter this Monday. You won’t be leaving my sight. I've studied and I know how dangerous you are, and I've got a good idea of what's gonna happen to me if I look away for too long... So prepare for an all-out assault. I'm eliminating the words 'mercy' and 'relent' from my vocabulary just for you. YOU are the first of many special occasions, Steven.
“And I won’t ever slow down. Not EVER as long as I’m a member of APW. The future holds many things, but all of them are shoved back when a night goes by that I’m NOT number one. There will never be another day in this business where Evan Envi is not the number one guy. And if there is, it’s because I’m dead and my face is glued to the drywall of some other kid’s wall. While I’m here, I’m the bar. I’m the level that you want to reach when you sign a contract to this business.
“I AM THAT GUY! AND THE FACT THAT OUR PRESIDENT DOESN’T SEE IT… It’s… It’s beyond me, Hitman. I have grown on Meltdown, and I’ve found my footing. But still, my matches are overshadowed by guys that aren’t even on this brand. People like Mark Mania come back for one day and they get moved up to Overdrive after a single match. Our president always has that damned grin on his face, and he claims that in APW everyone gets what they deserve-- but why not me?
“I. Deserve. More. I should be on two shows every week. Hell, I could even be on all three because I’m Evan Envi and I AM the guy that can do it! Hitman, there’s no room for you at the top. So while I appreciate your visit to the main event this week, please understand… Once this ball got rolling a month ago, there wasn’t a damned soul in this company that was ever gonna be able to stop it. I’m still growing. I’m still charging ahead and I have every intention of running right through you.
“It’s what I have to do. We can’t both climb this ladder, Steven. So please. For the sake of my conscience, brace yourself for the fall on Monday Night Meltdown. There will be no warning. There will be no second chance after that bell rings.”
Evan gives one final dry laugh, and casts a crooked half-smile to the viewer.
”I will never slow down.”
We fade to black.
