Change

[Chris Madison]

July 21st, 2013
Long Island, New York
12:30 A.M.

The cracking sound of thunder rolls through the middle of Long Island suburbia during a passing storm. Each bolt of lightning illuminates the sky bright enough to fool someone of the time of day. Between the pounding rumblings in the sky the sound of a house phone rings faintly. The ringing continues with no answer. Finally a beep of the answering machine followed by the voice of Chris Madison's younger brother Nick.

"Chris? If you're there pick up! I'm on my way over! I'm worried about you man. I haven't heard from you since you've returned from Raleigh. Dude just pick up the phone!" The tone in his voice showed some sincere concern for his brothers well being.

Madison had just finished a war with A.C. Smith which would have left any lesser of a man laid up in a hospital bed. It wasn't the first time his body had been put through hell and it surely won't be his last. Attached to the rear of this two story colonial home was a well crafted wooden deck. With another flash of light coming from a bright blue bolt of lightning, a figure is seen sitting on the steps leading to the backyard. Even through the torrential downpour the shape of a man sat still, as if frozen in time.

Through the large rear windows lights in the house begin to periodically go on and off. The room by room search of the house continues unbeknownst to the man sitting in the rain. Finally the search comes to an end as the rear door swings and Nick Madison stands in the doorway peering out. "Chris, is that you?"

Nick stepped out and looked up at the sky while another bolt of lightning brightens it up. His face is partially shielded by the rim of his baseball cap and his black Chris Madison APW t-shirt is quickly becoming drenched. He squints his eyes to get a better look at the shadow on the steps. "Chris, stop messing around! Is that you?" he shouted while walking towards him.

It was in fact Chris. He continued to sit in a trance like state, not acknowledging his baby brothers presence. His close were so saturated that the water dripped from its ends. His skin had began to prune up and he was shivering. Nick ran back into the house before coming back out with a late beach towel to encompass the majority of Chris's sopped carcass. He lifted Chris up by his arms and guided him back into the warm house without a word being said between the two.

Nick routed his older brother to a large pub style dinning room table. He helped sit him down and then quickly shuffled into the kitchen. Nick frantically opened and slammed shut some cabinet doors. After a couple of minutes he comes back to the dinning room with a black ceramic mug filled with coffee. He places the hot beverage down on the table in front of Chris. The steam slowly floats through the air hitting Chris in the face with the pungent smell of fresh brew.

The strong aroma of the cup of joe finally shocked a little life into Chris. He looked around his dinning room to see his brother sitting by his side, anticipating an explanation. An explanation for being a recluse since coming home. An explanation for ignoring phone calls. Mostly an explanation for sitting in the pouring rain in a hypnotic state. Nick was hanging onto every slight movement and twitch Chris's body made. Edged to the end of the cushioned seat he finally decided it was time to interrogate his older brother.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I don't think I've ever seen you like this..."

Chris crossed his arms and rubbed the outside of his shoulders over the now damp towel. "What time is it?" Madison asked while his eyes searched the walls for a clock.

Nick quickly answered hoping for some of his own. "Twelve forty five. How long have you been out there?"

Chris lifted the towel from his shoulders and placed it down on the dark cherry wooden floors beneath his feet. He looked back up at his brother and then down at the cup of coffee in front of him. He brought the mug up to his lips and slurped down a small sip. "Ahhhh...hot!"

Nick let out a sigh of frustration as Chris continued to dance around the questions being asked. "Why were you out there in this rain?"

Once again Chris pressed on, ignoring his younger brother. He brought the mug up for another sip before placing it down gently on the table. "I'm kinda tired. I think in gonna turn in for the night. You going to the warehouse tomorrow for some training?"

Nick was furious. He didn't want to step over any boundaries, being in Chris's house and all. He just couldn't help it and his emotions got the bet of him. His face grew a steaming red as smoke practically came out of his ears. He slammed his fist and demanded that his brother tell him what the hell was going on. "Cut the shit Chris! What the hell is the matter with you? It's not normal to sit out in the rain like that, practically catatonic. You haven't spoke to anyone in a few days. This is not like you and I'm not leaving until I know you're fine."

"I'm fine...just go home." Chris whispered while sucking his teeth.

"Really? That's why the whole way here I was imagining walking in to find you hanging or floating in a bath tub with your wrists slit. It's not like you to go three days without making a peep to anyone!" Nick reached up an grabbed the rim of his hat in order to curve it some before placing it back on top of his head.

After a brief pause Chris explained, "I just needed to clear my head..."

"You're fucking joking right?" Nick scratched at his thick beard momentarily while trying to restrain himself from going off on his brother. "If you need to clear your mind you go for a walk. Or you can get lost in some music. Or work it out at the warehouse. You don't become a god damn hermit and worry everyone around you!"

Chris stood up to walk away from his brothers lecture. Nick quickly jumped out of his seat and placed his hand on Chris's shoulder with nice firm grip, spinning him around. "What the fuck do you want me to say. I needed some space. I'm pissed at myself for losing to A.C. Smith. I'm pissed because I let a golden opportunity slip right between my fingertips and I didn't really want to face any of you."

"That's it? So what, you lost. Oh well! You'll bounce back and come harder this week. You always do!" Nick got distracted by the fading rumbles of the passing storm. He looked towards the rear windows of the house. "And what about all that" he questioned while pointing towards the window which still had rain water trickling down it.

"There's something beautiful and calming about how nasty of a bitch Mother Nature can be. I sat out there and decided to meditate a bit. I got lost in the moment! I'm fine now...so if you don't mind there's the front door." Chris and Nick stood nose to nose with an intense stare down. Nick raised his hands in the air and took a few steps back; he wasn't there to fight with his brother. All he wanted to do was help.

"Look man, I'm only here because people were concerned. If you're telling me you're fine then I'll have to believe you. I have no reason not to. You've been booked for Tennessee. A tag match with Knox against Hollywood and Savage. You gonna get any training in before hand?"

Chris walked to his front door and turned the knob opening the house to the wicked weather outside. Chris looked at his brother some more, waiting for him to get the hint that he had worn out his welcome for the night. "I'll see ya Nick. From now on I'll check in with you regularly. Will that prevent these unwanted visits?"

"You don't have to be such a dick..." Nick walked through the front door that was being held for him and stopped in the concrete stoop. He turned back to his brother and tried one more time to get something out of him. "At least let me know if you need me at the warehouse in the morning."

"Yeah I'll be there bright and early. That is of course if you let me get some damn rest!"

Nick smirked and nodded his head. He turned and walked into the monsoon like rain. Chris slammed the door shut behind nick and ascended the stairway to where presumably his bedroom is located. He surely had a long morning ahead of him with Nick in charge of his workout regiment. He was sure to be worked like an ox but perhaps it was needed to sharpen his tools. The body language said it all as he stomped his way upstairs before the scene fades.

July 21st, 2013
The Warehouse training facility
07:00 A.M.

We reopen to the outside of the warehouse training facility where Chris Madison does the bulk of his training. The sun beats down below without a cloud in the sky. Chris Madison walks towards the front door wearing a loose light blue tank top and a pair of gym shorts. He's carrying a large gym bag that's hangs by a strap and sits by his side. After opening the door and entering the enormous facility he surveys the area to find no one in sight. He huffs before looking back towards the parking lot and noticing only Nick's car parked in front.

"Nick? I'm here" he shouts out while continuing forward.

His voice echoed through the massive center as he continued to navigate his way in. He made it to the rear where the rings are located and placed his bag down on the apron. He continued to take tabs of his surroundings, noticing what looks like separate workout stations prepped throughout. He bit down on his lower lip trying to figure out what was in store for him. It wasn't his normal routine which had him a bit uneasy. Chris was always a creature of habit and never really liked change.

Just as he let out an unsettling sigh the door to the locker room swung open and Nick came strolling out with an uncomfortable smile. Chris looked him over as he strutted around and folded his arms across his chest, tucking his hands under his arms. "What's the big idea Nick? Where's Manny. I have a tag match in a couple of days and I need to get some work in..."

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out the proper way to tell Chris he was mixing things up. "I have something else lined up for you. You have been in a real funk since we returned from Japan. We need to switch things up and get the ball rolling in our direction." Nick could barely fight back the grin as he waited for Chris to fly off the handle.

"Switching things up, huh?" Madison removed his hands from under his arms and placed them firmly on his hips. "You might be on to something. Since my return to the states I haven't been able to get any momentum going. Sure I have dazzled viewers with some memorable matches but that doesn't mean shit when you're constantly on the losing end. Something needs to be done. Something needs to change!"

Nick stood still, astonished at how easy that was to get Chris to change his regiment. "I'm glad you're open to at least hear me out. That in itself is a big change for you."

"Lets see what you got..." he muttered as excited as a child in a china shop.

Nick started to move around with a bit of a pep in his step. Towards the rear exit he had placed an eighty pound punching bag on the floor. He strutted towards it and waved for Chris to follow. Chris dragged his feet but made it to the exit eventually. Nick began to explain the workout circuit he had set up for him. "First we'll start off here. A little cardio to get the heart pumping. You'll lift the bag and carry it on your shoulders while you run ten laps around the facility!"

Nick stepped outside and by the rear exit was a large tractor trailer tire. Chris's face said it all once he saw the large piece of rubber. "Once you finish that you'll do fifteen tire flips. I think this bad boy is about two hundred pounds. And if you notice down that way is sledgehammer. Those fifteen flips will take you to that point. That's when the third workout starts. One minute straight of striking the tire you just flipped with a sledgehammer. After that minute, fifteen flips back over to here with the tire."

Nick reentered the warehouse as Chris followed along like a scalded dog. "Then when you come back inside five minute roman chairs to collect yourself followed by live sparring, with me!"

"Are you trying to kill me with this workout?"

Nick walked over to one of the rings set up and hoisted himself onto the apron, taking a seat and letting his feet dangle freely in the air. "Not at all Chris...and it doesn't end there. After the live sparring you are going to pick that punching bag back up and do another ten laps around the facility and then a series of kettlebell workouts. You've become too comfortable with your training. Being to laxed has made you weak in the ring lately."

"Oh come...

"Save me the lecture and stop with the excuses." He shouted while cutting his older brother off. "We will recondition your body to be able to withstand the onslaught these larger guys bring to the table. A couple of weeks with this workout and you'll be running circles in that ring against anyone they put you up against!"

"Punishment for the last couple of days? he jokingly asked trying to lighten up the mood.

"Yeah, something like that... Nick laughed back while reaching into his shorts pockets looking to pull out his stopwatch. Nick digs it out and places it over his head, around his neck.

"I guess I had this coming. Well something needed to change. I guess it's starting at home. For too long I have been used to destroying everyone that looks in my direction. I need to figure this out. I'm not used to losing!"

"Whenever you're ready sunshine!" Nick held his stopwatch in his hand and peered down at it grinning through his mountain man beard. Chris nodded his head as Nick shouted, "GO!"

Chris took off running and quickly tossed the punching bag over his shoulders with a firemen's carry as the scene fades out.

----------------------------------------------------

The screen becomes jumpy as Madison films himself with his handheld device. The training facility acts as a backdrop while Chris stands in the parking lot.

"Change is necessary for survival. It's been time tested. Survival of the fittest has always proven that those who adapt, they eventually outlast."

"Last week I let a golden opportunity slip right through my fingers. A.C. Smith and I stole the show and put on one memorable match. Yet I stand here with what to show for it? Another loss in the books and no Xtreme Championship around my waist. Nothing but a couple of atta boys and a sick feeling in my stomach. You see I don't give a damn about entertaining those people. I'm here to compete, and I'm here to win. Putting on breath taking matches doesn't get you anywhere if you're consistently on the losing end. First it was Sentinel and then A.C. Smith. I need the tide to change if I am going to really be able to compete around here."

"So how do you stop this runaway train? Well Mr. Duvall surely seems to be on the same page as me. You curb that losing streak by going up against guys you know you can beat and have before. It was only two weeks ago that Hollywood and Savage stood in a ring with me and three others, having to prove ourselves to those that run Overdrive. A battle royal to show off our skills and abilities while trying to find a place in the pecking order around here. It was also a battle royal that I happened to outlast everyone and win!"

"Well thanks for throwing me a bone Mr. Duvall. You did me a huge solid by placing me in this tag match in Tennessee. It's practically a match that can't be lost. Jace and Hollywood going up against Tommy Knox and myself. Jace do yourself a favor and just keep yourself in the back. History has a tendency to repeat itself and mark my words, that man you call a partner is unreliable. No one knows more than me. Twice I've had the displeasure of calling him a partner. And twice I took on the Unforgiven damn near single handedly. He's pathetic and he's incapable of watching your back!"

"It's almost not fair though Jace. They team you up with that poor excuse for a professional wrestler and then they put you two up against the Black Hand. Through my travels in this industry I've gotten to know tons of people. A lot of which that I would consider friends. But sometimes bonds form that are just more than friends. Tommy Knox is one of those guys. Since 2006 he has been more like a brother to me than anything. That is this difference between the Black Hand and the rest of these startup factions that call APW home. We're more than a faction. We're not just a couple of people with similar agendas and ideologies. We are a brotherhood at war! While Knox seemed to rid the APW of The league, I plan on following suit but with NewGen Rising!"

"Jace, besides our brief encounter in the battle royal, and locking you into your locker room, we've yet to really get to know each other. Perhaps it's better if things were to stay that way. Although I don't know much about you, I can tell you that you make me sick. To me you are nothing but another silver spoon fed trust fund baby. You are sheltered from reality kid. The world is not all rays of sunshine. The world is filled with dark, twisted individuals who only find joy in other people's pain. I am one of those individuals Jace. The mere month that I spent on Meltdown I watched on the shadows as they practically looked at you as their hero. The fans loved you and saw you as one of them. When you shocked the world and made it to Test for the Best, they had their hero to route for. Well Jace I think people have diluted ideals that make up a hero. You are far from what a real hero is. Kids shouldn't be tuning in to watch you. Everything you have ever wanted has been available to you. You don't know what it truly means to have to fight for yours. You don't know what pain and misery feels like!"

"Well let me help you with that Jace. Let me show you how ugly this world can be. Let me be your passage to truths that live in the shadows that people like you cast! ComeThursday night I am going beat you down in front of those people as they chant your name. I am going to make sure those little kiddies sitting in the front row can witness the truth. The truth that hero's don't exist. They're just figments of imagination. You are a man who will be left in a heap of your own blood. The final image of their hero, will be covered in a crimson mask of his own blood. You brought this on yourself Jace. This could have been avoided!"

"And then there is Mr. Brian Hollywood. For a man that hates whiners it must be hard to live with yourself. Whenever your debut is brought up you claim being drugged. Enough bull shit! You didn't belong in the ring with the Unforgiven and I that night. And you don't belong in the ring with Tommy and IThursday night. We're head and shoulders above you Brian. I'd respect you if you were humble about your abilities. But you have your head so far up Jace's ass you actually believe that you are a top tier talent. It's comical to say the least!"

"Clever though, I'll give you that. Attach yourself to Jace's coat tails and try to rise above the rest as the top face faction in this company. Only problem is to be elite, you need to possess the capability. Tripping over the ropes while entering isn't really showing your athletic prowess. Like me, you have been unable to really get any momentum flowing your way. Even in victory you find yourself on the worse end of a true ass kicking. How's the head? Hopefully that cut healed well from my elbow strikes. I would hate for another pathetic excuse as to why you lost this week..."

"You've made this choice Hollywood. You've been vocal about wanting to get your hands on Tommy Knox. Last week you beat Niobe in that ring. This week I stand between you and Tommy and I seek retribution for Niobe. This is a family and when you call out one us you get everyone! I promise to make you regret igniting this feud because it only ends one way...the destruction of NewGen Rises. For we are the Black Hand and we are the destroyer of factions! And that's one thing that will never change!"

Static and white snow engulfs the screen before fading out.