Post by bryanpayne on Aug 28, 2010 19:25:53 GMT -4
(San Diego California, One week ago)
Bryan sat on a chair overlooking the cool water of the lake. The heat beat down on him, a blessed reminder that not everywhere was as cold as the frozen prison he was now glad to have seen the back of. He stared transfixed for a while by the slow ripples working their way towards the shore, probably from some fish that had jumped further out. Cause and effect; it was the way of the world and of life.
Since his return to the ring he’d had to answer a lot of questions. Could he survive without DR?... was he a one shot flash in the pan world champion? Did he have enough passion left without his friend to rise again to the top? And more importantly could he take a greater than ever media scrutiny. So far he’d answered everything with a yes. A resounding one and yet…. Yet something still remained, a drive deep inside him for more. Perhaps like that fish who had probably gone after a bug… leaping out of the safe confines of the world it knew for one burning moment of agony in an alien world, he too had too push himself beyond the boundaries of what he knew to truly find peace within himself.
That was all well and good to say of course, but how did one accomplish that in the grand scheme? For too long Bryan had avoided dealing with this, every since the early days of his American career when he’d snapped on Robb McBride and broken a bat across the back of one of his stable-mates. He’d focused on the next accomplishment, the next prize, the next dazzling jump into the unknown and had used that as a validation to push off the inevitable day of reckoning. But there really was no pushing some things back… in the end it came down to having to face yourself, who you were, what you’d done and letting it go so you could move on.
A little bit of a smile crossed Bryan’s lips then as he looked up blinking against the light reflecting off the water and the wind… slightly moist smelling as it came off the water, both stung his eyes. Georgie walked up behind him and smiled just a bit before slipping around to the front and took a seat beside him.
“Hey,” she said nudging him just a tad with her shoulder.
“Hey,” he replied, that lopsided smile that so easily went into a smirk answered.
“You seem completely in another world, what’s on your mind?”
“Well,” Bryan began, “just thinking you know? How far I’ve come, how far I still want to go. I think about it some times and it staggers me. John used to tell me what it was like but I don’t think I really ever got it. Now I’m here and he’s… not.”
“He knows Bryan, and I know he’s proud of you…”
“Yeah,” he answered, “but I never realized exactly how much I depended on him for the day to day… until he wasn’t there. I mean the first time we had a split I almost ended up in rehab for booze… and this time Anger Management? Shit, what’s next?”
“I dunno, I could see you in twenty years as one of those little league coaches going all red in the face screaming bloody murder at some fourteen year old who blew a play..”
“Gee,” Bryan said looking over at her, sarcasm dripping from his tongue, “thanks..”
“Well if you’re worried about stuff like this, why do you keep going on as before?” She fired back.
“Because I guess underneath it all I just am who I am Georgie. I mean I can try to change myself… little things bits and pieces over time until I’m someone else, but that’s not why I started doing this… what I worked so hard for. I haven’t come this far to start apologizing for being the man I am… and I certainly didn’t do it to try to transform myself into a socially acceptable version…edited for a ‘younger’ audience. I’ve always believed that if you work hard enough to become the absolute best version of yourself physically, mentally… good things will happen for you… and so far I’ve proven that it works.”
“But…,”
“But one day I’m going to hit the limit. One day I’m going to hit a place where the fire just isn’t there anymore. I know that… I know it’s still a ways off, but for the first time in my life I can conceive of that time happening one day.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
Bryan shrugged for a moment and looked back off over the water. He didn’t speak for a couple minutes.
“Depends,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, “on what you think you might be with that kind of focus to keep you on the straight and narrow.”
“There are other things you could do… the Foundation for one, and other things besides… the point is if it’s a question of filling the days I’m sure you’ll find something when that day comes.”
“Georgie… what exactly other than a wrestling trainer am I qualified to be?” I looked over with a faintly quirked brow.
“Personal gym trainer… dietician… health and wellness councilor… high school baseball coach… wrestling coach… talent scout… booking agent…”
“Ok! OK!” Bryan said gently grabbing Georgie’s shoulders and shaking her just slightly, probably one of only two people who could have gotten away with that gesture, the other being her father. “I surrender, please stop. So I’ll find something. But how do I know if it’s the *right* something?”
“Well,” Georgie said, “how about you try one of them on for size right now?” Bryan looked up at her impish expression with curiosity.
“What do you mean?”
Georgie fished a scrap of paper out of her jacket pocket and handed it over to Bryan, who took it and unfolded it. On it was an address in Houston Texas and a name… Jacob Wilson.
“I didn’t want to say anything until we checked it out… but it does. Karen and I found this kid a little while ago after John let something slip one night.”
“Some prospect huh?” Bryan said with a rueful smile, “his plan if I flamed out?”
Georgie shook her head and grabbed Bryan by the chin forcing him to look at her.
“No… his son.”
Greogie smiled, pleased at the shocked expression on Bryan’s face.
“That’s right. He had a girlfriend in Houston back in his touring days in the 80’s… before he busted up his knee and went to Japan. Karen confirmed it with some of his family… he sent the mother money every month.. but as far as I know only actually met the kid once or twice. When he split back in Vegas… that’s where he went… he was trying to help his son Bryan.”
Bryan’s hands shook slightly on the paper as he leaned back on the bench. When John had quit as his Manager for a while, Bryan had been a total mess. It had taken the combined efforts of Georgie, AC, and Karen to get him through and half a dozen ‘replacement’ managers that he fired or ran off within a couple weeks. And this had been why.
“He’s in trouble?” Bryan asked finally seeming to come out of his thoughts latching on to that one thought.
Georgie nodded. “Mostly legal. He’s a small time hustler, probably some drug dealing from what we found out. Not the best guy in the world. His mother is a junkie now, has been since he was a kid. Guy is a piece of work.”
This was something Bryan could understand… the guy wasn’t so different from what he was when John had found him. Changed his life.
“You don’t think that I could…”
“Yeah Bryan,” Georgie smiled, “I think you should.”
Bryan sat there for a few more moments and then flipped open his cell hitting Karen’s number for speed dial, “Hey Karen… get me on a plane from San Diego to Houston and a rental car I can return in Dallas. Right.. I’ll just drive up from there. Thanks.”
The two sat there for a little while longer. It was the first time in almost six months Bryan had truly felt at peace.
(**************)
(Downtown Houston- 48 hours later.)
The bar was similar to many of the type and brought back some memories for Bryan. A very… saw dust on the floor to soak up the blood kind of place where the felt on the pool tables was worn and only the regulars knew all the odd bumps underneath. The smell of stale beer and unwashed bodies assaulted his nose as he walked into the door, and he got a few measuring looks as he walked in the door. He did not look like the regular unwashed patron. His shades were pushed up onto his forehead and his too tight t-shirt stretched out over his chest and arms and fell down loose over his jeans, and a pair of sneakers on his feet. He looked more like a college kid looking for trouble than a serious drinker.
It hadn’t taken him very long to track this Jacob kid down, not to someone who understood how to find things that were illegal to begin with, but a good thirty five hours had been spent on that project all eventually leading him to this bar. It was the guy’s regular early evening spot where he waited for calls from clients and hustled pool. Jacob wasn’t hard to spot, and was definitely his father’s son. I mean how could you miss a 6’5” 280lbs man shooting pool in the back of a bar? You really couldn’t!
Bryan made his way over in that direction, forced to flash his id to the bartender before he was given a pair of beers. He got a look when he arrived at the table, and stood and watched for a few moments as the kid played pool with a middle aged guy who looked increasingly desperate. His tie had been pulled down almost to his chest and his rumbled white dress shirt was half unbuttoned… he looked like an out of work stock broker… weren’t those just all over these days.
“Eight ball, corner pocket,” the big man rumbled, a deep base that sounded hauntingly like John. He smoothly guided the cue along his hands and with a decisive click the ball made its way unfailingly to the indicated pocket. “You owe me sixteen hundred bucks white boy.”
Bryan glanced down at the table and fought back the urge to whistle. Two hundred a ball? And the guy hadn’t even had the chance to sink a ball from the look of the table… ouch.
“I… I uh.. don’t really…” Bryan sighed softly. One thing he’d learned working for a bookie in Japan… never bet when you can’t afford to lose. Desperation and owing people with more guns than you money is never a good idea.
“You trying to scam me?! You made the bet you better pay up or I’ll break this off in your ass!” The kid hissed leaning forward and waving the stick menacingly towards the nervous and desperate man who began emptying out his pockets coming up with a few hundred bucks and a rather nice watch. “That ain’t enough!”
“Oh come on man, it’s all I’ve got!”
“Oh.. I’m gonna enjoy this,” Jacob said as he moved forward, and that was when Bryan… accidentally stepped forward too bumping into the center of the guy’s chest holding the two beers. “Hey watch where you’re going Chop Stick!”
“Chop Stick huh?” Oh yeah, this kid would pay for that remark one day, “Nice. Hey man come on… I’m sure this guy is good for the money he owes you, right?” he said looking over his shoulder with a look towards the scared man that screamed Work with me here!
“I-I absolutely! I’m good for it, I swear, I just don’t have the cash!”
“Right.. see?” Bryan looked back hopefully at Jacob and handed him the extra beer he’d ordered from the bartender, “how about a beer eh?”
Jacob took the beer for a moment and then eyed the trembling man behind him and a slow twisted little smile came to his face as he pushed the tip of the stick against the man’s shirt smearing it with blue chalk. “Yeah, ok Chop Stick. He can keep his fingers, but… I want the ring as.. collateral.”
Bryan paused a moment and looked back over his shoulder where the man stood horrified looking down at the wedding band on his left hand. “Well?! What are you waiting for give the nice man who has decided he’s not going to break your bones the ring!”
“B-but my wife will kill me!”
“Well then I guess you shouldn’t have been out gambling now should you?!” Snapped Bryan right back which was followed by an ashamed and scared man handing over the ring and almost running out of the bar. “There, now wasn’t that better?”
“What, you got some kind of love for that type? Or maybe you want to be like him, eh college boy? Maybe I outta just break your face!”
“Well, you could try. But then I couldn’t buy you the next beer now could I?”
Jacob blinked for a moment wanting to be mad at the slightly smarky way that was put, but instead he went back to the table.
“Hey… do I know you… you look… familiar…”
“Maybe. Name’s Bryan… want a game?” He said nodding down to the table.
“Man I don’t play pool with random chumps who walk in the door, you wanna play with Jacob you gotta pay.”
“Fair enough, hundred a ball?” Bryan said as he bent down to rack up the balls, “You can break.”
“Man you just lost your money chump!” The kid thumped his beer on the side of the table and re-chaulked his stick as Bryan finished setting everything up and then bent to take the break.
“You know,” said Bryan slowly as the young man went to shoot, timing it perfectly, “I knew your father.”
Jacob flinched just a little bit, so that the untrained eye might not have noticed it, but as someone who made a living ragging on people and grew up shacking people down… Bryan could tell. And more importantly he could tell by the way this pool shark didn’t even come close to sinking in a ball off of the break.
“Bad luck, bro,” Bryan said as he picked up his own stick and bent down to take his own shot taking three quick shots and three quick balls disappeared off the table. “Three hundred….”
“I ain’t got a father punk!” Jacob said defiantly as Bryan went about his business.
“Now that’s not entirely true is it? John Henry. You probably saw him last year. Good guy, not perfect… who is. But he tried to do right by you.”
“Yeah? Well then were the hell was he huh? He was off training some wres- oh..,” Jacob blinked a bit as he looked over at Bryan with sudden understanding. “That’s where I know you from, you’re him… that guy!”
“Bryan Payne,” Bryan said with a big lopsided smile and then sank a fifth ball while murmering, “side pocket.”
“So what are you doing here bothering me?!” Jacob had stopped paying attention to the game.
“Me? I’m just here to play pool… eight-ball corner…,” that seemed to snap Jacob out of it as he realized he’d been completely played and the last ball sank in and Bryan picked up the discarded pile of cash, leaving the watch but taking the ring too.
“Man, fuck you!” Jacob said tossing his stick down on the pool table and stalked off away from Bryan who flipped the ring over to a waitress. “When that guy comes back on… oh figure thirty minutes with the cops… make sure he gets that. He dropped about half the cash onto her tray to make it worth her while and then took off at a trot after the kid who had vanished out of a back door into an ally. He followed close behind.
“Will you wait up?”
“Give me one good reason!” He said, not even bothering to turn around to look at Bryan.
“Because I could make you rich.”
Jacob paused a bit and turned his head. “What you want some blow man? That what this is about… you and your fuck buddies what a snowflake treat for after your BIIG night and you thought you’d just throw the bastard a bone? Well screw you Chop Stick!”
“Not exactly,” Bryan said having to jog a few steps again to catch him and then he reached out grabbing the man’s big arm and swinging him around. “Look wait a damn second here!”
Jacob jerked his arm free with almost effortless ease and made a pawing grab for Bryan who leaned back just enough to duck around the gesture and swung his leg hard into the front of Jacob’s legs sending the big man crashing down to the floor. He fell forward then letting his knee press down onto the center of his back to prevent him from standing, or at least making it difficult.
“Look kid, I’m serious. You wanna go ‘round and ‘round here in this ally and get busted when that jerk off you hustled shows back up with the cops and finds… hmmm I wonder what on you? Be my guest, let’s dance. Or we can get out of here and talk business. What’s it gonna be Eight-Ball?”
“Who the fuck is Eight-Ball?!”
“That’s your new ring name.”
Jacob looked up at Bryan and snorted.
“No fucking way!”
“Your choice Eight,” Bryan said as he handed him a card with his name and phone number on it, “That number will get you my PA… 24/7. You change your mind kid, call me, I’ll fly you out to watch the show and after… we’ll talk. You’ve got the look, you’ve got the muscles. Six months with me and I’ll do for you what your old man did for me. I’m make you a fucking star. Money, women, respect… a future that doesn’t end in ally… lot like this. Your call.”
“Man why you doing this? I don’t know you for shit.”
“You’re right, you don’t. But you might say that the favors of the father are visited upon the son along with the sins….”
Bryan walked away from a confused Jacob then leaving him standing alone in that ally. He crumbled up the card and moved as though he were about to throw it away and then he paused, swallowing and flattened it out, regarding it for a few minutes until the sound of sirens in the distance reminded him it was time to get gone.
(*******)
(24 hours before Shockwave: APW Studio)
Bryan walked into the media room. Further inside techs were scurrying around madly trying to fit together the hundred things that had to wait to the last minute, any one of which could royally screw things up for the show. They were a dedicated group of people, there was no denying that. And while guys like himself might be the face of a promotion like APW…. Those techs were the organs that kept it alive.
“Kenny, Gale, Hermon,” Bryan said with a nod and a smile to several of them as he passed, shaking a few hands even taking a minute to sign the back of one guy’s event shirt. He hoped he didn’t get caught on camera like that, it might not go over so well. Still little things like this Bryan was happy to do, he just wished more people did. “We about ready to shoot this thing?”
“Yeah, think so Mr. Payne, just give us a few more seconds to set up the lighting. So, you gonna beat this guy?”
Bryan flashed him a little smile and a wink.
“Hey, it’s me.” He chuckled a little bit to himself. He glanced over into the far corner where the looming figure of Jacob stood… getting a few odd looks himself, and couldn’t suppress a little nod in the kid’s direction. Kid. Hell the guy was only a couple years younger than Bryan himself and probably hadn’t had any kid left in him by the time he hit puberty but it was a force of habit… it just felt right.
“In three… two….” The tech rolled his hand over and pointed at Bryan as the camera kicked on.
“Shaun Kilgore,” Bryan said with a little bit of a smile, “I mean really what is there to say about the guy that I haven’t already said by now, right? Now this guy hit APW just about the same time I did, climbed the ranks… fought his way into a title picture and when it came, just like I did… he grabbed the opportunity with both hands and unseated a proud champ to hold APW gold for the first time. Gotta give it to the guy; that takes guts, nerve, and talent.”
“But what has he done with all that since? We’ve talked about it… he’s using the Red Shield Mafia as his stooges, his human shields because after working so hard for this bit of success and recognition here in APW he’s now terrified of losing it. He’s looking around seeing Cyrus wanting a rematch, seeing Biggs that he’s pissed off, seeing an ever growing list of stars in the wings now just waiting for a chance to snap him in half and take what’s his. Now Kilgore is getting a taste of what it’s like to be the hunted.” Bryan cracks a wolfish smile.
“He’s not longer acting with a goal in mind, he’s reacting… thrashing about like a wounded lion at anyone and everything he thinks might be a threat to him. That’s really what the unification of the RSM and the Greatness is all about… a shared feeling of inferiority and fear blended together to form a group dedicated to never realizing their full potential… out of the pure terror of knowing that they might fail.”
“Shaun, I hate to be the one to break this to you, because usually this is a lesson that everyone learns when they’re pretty young, but failure is just part of life. Its how we learn, its how we grow, it’s how we come to recognize our own limitations and realize where we can improve ourselves to overcome them. Set our sights even higher for the future.”
“Now I’ve been pretty complimentary to Kilgore until my recent run ins with him… so some of you might think it’s a little… hypocritical of me to be so harsh on him now. But the truth of the matter is this formation is pretty recent too, and my vocal denunciation of them goes back a ways even in the defense of a man that well… as you’ve all seen, I don’t quite see eye to eye with. So because of that, Shaun sends his goons after me but he forgot a cardinal rule… don’t bite off more than you can chew. That’s what happened when Biggs realized the opening Shaun had given him… and so he signed me up to fight Kilgore for the Overdrive title. I’m going to take it from Kilgore and I’m going to become the longest reigning Overdrive champion in APW history. Why you ask? What possible benefit is that to me? Two birds my friends, first I will show Kilgore that by surrounding himself with weak men he has damaged himself, his reliance on them, his using them to fight his battles for him has brought him down. And second… Biggs is going to be furious when his buddy can’t get his belt back.” He grinned then and gave a soft shrug of his shoulders.
“I assure you though, I’m going to be doing a lot more than just taking away the toys of the wicked. See because while I might have to pin Kilgore to take his title belt, that’s not really the only thing at stake here is it? No… Kilgore’s reputation is on the line right? I’ve called into question his dedication, his commitment, and everyone saying that I am going to have a cake walk in this match have called him out. Now he’s got to deliver. Sure he can have his buddies force a DQ or something like that if he gets in trouble… but what is that really going to be except an admission from him that he really isn’t, as he says… ‘in my league.’”
“Now I’m not expecting an easy match at Shockwave. No, anytime you put someone’s back up against the wall you can expect them to come out swinging for all their worth. But there is something different about this title match Shaun as I just said; even though you’re the champion… you’re also still the one with something to prove. You have to prove you can step in the ring with the top dogs in this company and compete. You have to prove that you aren’t a fluke a one hit wonder, another flash in the pan rookie in the APW locker room whose going to buckle at the first hint of adversity. Well Shaun… welcome to adversity.”
“That’s your revelation for this week. Can you rise up to it? Are you equal to the challenge can you feel the Payne and live to tell the tale? Lester felt it… and he’s still recovering. Giants in this business have felt it, men with careers decades long have felt it and look over their shoulders when they know I’m coming now… I’ve earned that respect for myself. So to you Shaun? I’ve got zip to prove except another day at the office. I don’t have to prove because everyone knows that from the moment I step foot inside that ring until the moment the last bell sounds its going to be nothing but absolute mayhem inside that ring and you’re standing right in the eye of the hurricane my friend.”
“You stepped on Superman’s cape…. Now it’s time to pay the price.”
“Because you wanted the opportunity to prove yourself, you wanted a challenge… you wanted the respect you seem to think you’re so entitled to just by breathing. Now you have to step inside the ring with me and earn it. Earn it from a man… who’s as interest in causing physical damage to you… as he is in anything to do with that title belt. See Shaun, because if you buddies DQ you a way to keep that belt… but I put lay you up like I did Level One? Hey.. my mission is accomplished. If I take that belt from you and you attack me after the match.. hey mission accomplished. If you sneak away and refuse to fight me… mission accomplished. The truth is Kilgore any way you slice it my only desire is to punish you for what you’ve been doing… and take a little bit of pay back for myself.”
“Your task is harder Kilgore, because not only do you have to convince your butt buddies back stage and all these people that you can compete with me… you’ve also got to convince yourself. Now maybe you think that’s not a problem, and maybe you’ve talked yourself up into such a state of self-confidence that you really think you can step into the ring and beat me in a match right now. Maybe you’re right. But Shaun… I think deep down in our heart of hearts we both know a sick little truth… and that truth is that you’re dead wrong.”
“Its not about winning or losing Shaun, hell, its not even about how many belts of shiny gold you bring home… trust me, I have a collection. It’s about heart, commitment and a desire to overcome all obstacles to succeed. That is what respect is given for Shaun. That is what people remember. Not the guys who go around using others to make their own battles easier, stealing glory from the hard work of flunkies whose sole existence is based on making YOU look good; but by ripping it from the unconscious fingers of your opponents with skill, intensity, and desire.”
“These aren’t qualities that you have that can stand up to me Shaun. You don’t have the heart and the will to last inside that match with me with all this pressure beating down on you. With the expectations, the promises you’ve made and the assurances you’ve given that despite it all you can still overcome… because Shaun… when have you ever? No, the fact of the matter is Shaun you and your manager already know the only way you’re walking out of Shockwave still holding that Overdrive title is with the help of the Nutz or the RSM. Your only chance not to be remembered as just another footnote on that title… is to cheat, because you don’t have the faith in yourself to fight me any other way.”
A slow easy smile danced around Bryan’s lips then.
“How does it feel Shaun… to feel the minutes and seconds ticking away? How does it feel waiting and waiting in silence for me to respond to you? Truth is I almost didn’t, I almost said to myself there was no reason for me to… after all I’ve got nothing to prove, no real reason to enter a discussion with you before our match. But then I decided that this is my opportunity to educate you on exactly what is required… as I did John and Hades before you Kilgore I’m going to beat the main event ceiling into your fucking forehead.”
He stepped to one side then and the camera followed him to a Shockwave poster where in the background Bryan and Shaun stood almost nose to nose.
“See this poster Shaun? You’re not there because of that Overdrive title, you’re not there because someone wanted you there…. You’re there because your name is next to mine. You’ve stolen this moment for yourself only by the actions and help of your buddies… you didn’t earn a billboard role. You’re a runner up champion who went around gang banging super-stars until you finally got noticed. Congrats man… congrats. Mission accomplished. What I want you to do… is take one of these posters Sunday night and take it around the locker room. Get your buddies… Sally… Joe…John…Vic.. One… get everyone to sign it. Because the fact is you’ll need it for your scrap book because it’s the last headline fight you’re ever going to get in this company. When I get through with you at Shockwave… the whole world is going to know that Shaun Kilgore, really is the Showstoper, because every time he’s on… the audience clicks off.”
“So after you get your souvenir, your fifteen seconds, go ahead and enjoy being so close to home again. Go out on the town, eat some dead cow, shoot a shotgun, blow a horse… fry broccoli, you know the usual Texas stuff… and go ahead and do your family and friends a favor by reminding them they still have a chance to sell their tickets to avoid wasting their time coming to watch me beat the every loving snot out of you.”
“You think you’re the next big thing hot shot, you think you’ve got all the angles covered? Buddy you haven’t got a clue. You’re not stepping into the ring with a legend my friend you’re not even stepping into the ring with an idea, you’re stepping into the ring with King fucking Kong! You’re stepping into the ring with the man who took out the entire Red Shield Mafia in a hardcore handicap match. Hades fell to me in the same, Lester might never be the same, Ryan Ruckus, Stu Who, The One Ring Circus, the Belmonts, John Green has tried his hardest twice, Robb McBride… the number of titles and accomplishments that group I just described can’t even begin to do it my friend and they all have one thing in common… they’ve all tried it; to take me down take me out of the game. But here I’m standing… bigger and badder and more hungry than ever.”
“Kilgore… you’re right. You don’t have to really worry about defending your title at Shockwave… your buddies have your back for that. No my friend, you just have to worry about SURVIVING Shockwave. ‘Cause once you get a taste of the Payne baby… you’re never the same. Feel it.”
Bryan sat on a chair overlooking the cool water of the lake. The heat beat down on him, a blessed reminder that not everywhere was as cold as the frozen prison he was now glad to have seen the back of. He stared transfixed for a while by the slow ripples working their way towards the shore, probably from some fish that had jumped further out. Cause and effect; it was the way of the world and of life.
Since his return to the ring he’d had to answer a lot of questions. Could he survive without DR?... was he a one shot flash in the pan world champion? Did he have enough passion left without his friend to rise again to the top? And more importantly could he take a greater than ever media scrutiny. So far he’d answered everything with a yes. A resounding one and yet…. Yet something still remained, a drive deep inside him for more. Perhaps like that fish who had probably gone after a bug… leaping out of the safe confines of the world it knew for one burning moment of agony in an alien world, he too had too push himself beyond the boundaries of what he knew to truly find peace within himself.
That was all well and good to say of course, but how did one accomplish that in the grand scheme? For too long Bryan had avoided dealing with this, every since the early days of his American career when he’d snapped on Robb McBride and broken a bat across the back of one of his stable-mates. He’d focused on the next accomplishment, the next prize, the next dazzling jump into the unknown and had used that as a validation to push off the inevitable day of reckoning. But there really was no pushing some things back… in the end it came down to having to face yourself, who you were, what you’d done and letting it go so you could move on.
A little bit of a smile crossed Bryan’s lips then as he looked up blinking against the light reflecting off the water and the wind… slightly moist smelling as it came off the water, both stung his eyes. Georgie walked up behind him and smiled just a bit before slipping around to the front and took a seat beside him.
“Hey,” she said nudging him just a tad with her shoulder.
“Hey,” he replied, that lopsided smile that so easily went into a smirk answered.
“You seem completely in another world, what’s on your mind?”
“Well,” Bryan began, “just thinking you know? How far I’ve come, how far I still want to go. I think about it some times and it staggers me. John used to tell me what it was like but I don’t think I really ever got it. Now I’m here and he’s… not.”
“He knows Bryan, and I know he’s proud of you…”
“Yeah,” he answered, “but I never realized exactly how much I depended on him for the day to day… until he wasn’t there. I mean the first time we had a split I almost ended up in rehab for booze… and this time Anger Management? Shit, what’s next?”
“I dunno, I could see you in twenty years as one of those little league coaches going all red in the face screaming bloody murder at some fourteen year old who blew a play..”
“Gee,” Bryan said looking over at her, sarcasm dripping from his tongue, “thanks..”
“Well if you’re worried about stuff like this, why do you keep going on as before?” She fired back.
“Because I guess underneath it all I just am who I am Georgie. I mean I can try to change myself… little things bits and pieces over time until I’m someone else, but that’s not why I started doing this… what I worked so hard for. I haven’t come this far to start apologizing for being the man I am… and I certainly didn’t do it to try to transform myself into a socially acceptable version…edited for a ‘younger’ audience. I’ve always believed that if you work hard enough to become the absolute best version of yourself physically, mentally… good things will happen for you… and so far I’ve proven that it works.”
“But…,”
“But one day I’m going to hit the limit. One day I’m going to hit a place where the fire just isn’t there anymore. I know that… I know it’s still a ways off, but for the first time in my life I can conceive of that time happening one day.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
Bryan shrugged for a moment and looked back off over the water. He didn’t speak for a couple minutes.
“Depends,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, “on what you think you might be with that kind of focus to keep you on the straight and narrow.”
“There are other things you could do… the Foundation for one, and other things besides… the point is if it’s a question of filling the days I’m sure you’ll find something when that day comes.”
“Georgie… what exactly other than a wrestling trainer am I qualified to be?” I looked over with a faintly quirked brow.
“Personal gym trainer… dietician… health and wellness councilor… high school baseball coach… wrestling coach… talent scout… booking agent…”
“Ok! OK!” Bryan said gently grabbing Georgie’s shoulders and shaking her just slightly, probably one of only two people who could have gotten away with that gesture, the other being her father. “I surrender, please stop. So I’ll find something. But how do I know if it’s the *right* something?”
“Well,” Georgie said, “how about you try one of them on for size right now?” Bryan looked up at her impish expression with curiosity.
“What do you mean?”
Georgie fished a scrap of paper out of her jacket pocket and handed it over to Bryan, who took it and unfolded it. On it was an address in Houston Texas and a name… Jacob Wilson.
“I didn’t want to say anything until we checked it out… but it does. Karen and I found this kid a little while ago after John let something slip one night.”
“Some prospect huh?” Bryan said with a rueful smile, “his plan if I flamed out?”
Georgie shook her head and grabbed Bryan by the chin forcing him to look at her.
“No… his son.”
Greogie smiled, pleased at the shocked expression on Bryan’s face.
“That’s right. He had a girlfriend in Houston back in his touring days in the 80’s… before he busted up his knee and went to Japan. Karen confirmed it with some of his family… he sent the mother money every month.. but as far as I know only actually met the kid once or twice. When he split back in Vegas… that’s where he went… he was trying to help his son Bryan.”
Bryan’s hands shook slightly on the paper as he leaned back on the bench. When John had quit as his Manager for a while, Bryan had been a total mess. It had taken the combined efforts of Georgie, AC, and Karen to get him through and half a dozen ‘replacement’ managers that he fired or ran off within a couple weeks. And this had been why.
“He’s in trouble?” Bryan asked finally seeming to come out of his thoughts latching on to that one thought.
Georgie nodded. “Mostly legal. He’s a small time hustler, probably some drug dealing from what we found out. Not the best guy in the world. His mother is a junkie now, has been since he was a kid. Guy is a piece of work.”
This was something Bryan could understand… the guy wasn’t so different from what he was when John had found him. Changed his life.
“You don’t think that I could…”
“Yeah Bryan,” Georgie smiled, “I think you should.”
Bryan sat there for a few more moments and then flipped open his cell hitting Karen’s number for speed dial, “Hey Karen… get me on a plane from San Diego to Houston and a rental car I can return in Dallas. Right.. I’ll just drive up from there. Thanks.”
The two sat there for a little while longer. It was the first time in almost six months Bryan had truly felt at peace.
(**************)
(Downtown Houston- 48 hours later.)
The bar was similar to many of the type and brought back some memories for Bryan. A very… saw dust on the floor to soak up the blood kind of place where the felt on the pool tables was worn and only the regulars knew all the odd bumps underneath. The smell of stale beer and unwashed bodies assaulted his nose as he walked into the door, and he got a few measuring looks as he walked in the door. He did not look like the regular unwashed patron. His shades were pushed up onto his forehead and his too tight t-shirt stretched out over his chest and arms and fell down loose over his jeans, and a pair of sneakers on his feet. He looked more like a college kid looking for trouble than a serious drinker.
It hadn’t taken him very long to track this Jacob kid down, not to someone who understood how to find things that were illegal to begin with, but a good thirty five hours had been spent on that project all eventually leading him to this bar. It was the guy’s regular early evening spot where he waited for calls from clients and hustled pool. Jacob wasn’t hard to spot, and was definitely his father’s son. I mean how could you miss a 6’5” 280lbs man shooting pool in the back of a bar? You really couldn’t!
Bryan made his way over in that direction, forced to flash his id to the bartender before he was given a pair of beers. He got a look when he arrived at the table, and stood and watched for a few moments as the kid played pool with a middle aged guy who looked increasingly desperate. His tie had been pulled down almost to his chest and his rumbled white dress shirt was half unbuttoned… he looked like an out of work stock broker… weren’t those just all over these days.
“Eight ball, corner pocket,” the big man rumbled, a deep base that sounded hauntingly like John. He smoothly guided the cue along his hands and with a decisive click the ball made its way unfailingly to the indicated pocket. “You owe me sixteen hundred bucks white boy.”
Bryan glanced down at the table and fought back the urge to whistle. Two hundred a ball? And the guy hadn’t even had the chance to sink a ball from the look of the table… ouch.
“I… I uh.. don’t really…” Bryan sighed softly. One thing he’d learned working for a bookie in Japan… never bet when you can’t afford to lose. Desperation and owing people with more guns than you money is never a good idea.
“You trying to scam me?! You made the bet you better pay up or I’ll break this off in your ass!” The kid hissed leaning forward and waving the stick menacingly towards the nervous and desperate man who began emptying out his pockets coming up with a few hundred bucks and a rather nice watch. “That ain’t enough!”
“Oh come on man, it’s all I’ve got!”
“Oh.. I’m gonna enjoy this,” Jacob said as he moved forward, and that was when Bryan… accidentally stepped forward too bumping into the center of the guy’s chest holding the two beers. “Hey watch where you’re going Chop Stick!”
“Chop Stick huh?” Oh yeah, this kid would pay for that remark one day, “Nice. Hey man come on… I’m sure this guy is good for the money he owes you, right?” he said looking over his shoulder with a look towards the scared man that screamed Work with me here!
“I-I absolutely! I’m good for it, I swear, I just don’t have the cash!”
“Right.. see?” Bryan looked back hopefully at Jacob and handed him the extra beer he’d ordered from the bartender, “how about a beer eh?”
Jacob took the beer for a moment and then eyed the trembling man behind him and a slow twisted little smile came to his face as he pushed the tip of the stick against the man’s shirt smearing it with blue chalk. “Yeah, ok Chop Stick. He can keep his fingers, but… I want the ring as.. collateral.”
Bryan paused a moment and looked back over his shoulder where the man stood horrified looking down at the wedding band on his left hand. “Well?! What are you waiting for give the nice man who has decided he’s not going to break your bones the ring!”
“B-but my wife will kill me!”
“Well then I guess you shouldn’t have been out gambling now should you?!” Snapped Bryan right back which was followed by an ashamed and scared man handing over the ring and almost running out of the bar. “There, now wasn’t that better?”
“What, you got some kind of love for that type? Or maybe you want to be like him, eh college boy? Maybe I outta just break your face!”
“Well, you could try. But then I couldn’t buy you the next beer now could I?”
Jacob blinked for a moment wanting to be mad at the slightly smarky way that was put, but instead he went back to the table.
“Hey… do I know you… you look… familiar…”
“Maybe. Name’s Bryan… want a game?” He said nodding down to the table.
“Man I don’t play pool with random chumps who walk in the door, you wanna play with Jacob you gotta pay.”
“Fair enough, hundred a ball?” Bryan said as he bent down to rack up the balls, “You can break.”
“Man you just lost your money chump!” The kid thumped his beer on the side of the table and re-chaulked his stick as Bryan finished setting everything up and then bent to take the break.
“You know,” said Bryan slowly as the young man went to shoot, timing it perfectly, “I knew your father.”
Jacob flinched just a little bit, so that the untrained eye might not have noticed it, but as someone who made a living ragging on people and grew up shacking people down… Bryan could tell. And more importantly he could tell by the way this pool shark didn’t even come close to sinking in a ball off of the break.
“Bad luck, bro,” Bryan said as he picked up his own stick and bent down to take his own shot taking three quick shots and three quick balls disappeared off the table. “Three hundred….”
“I ain’t got a father punk!” Jacob said defiantly as Bryan went about his business.
“Now that’s not entirely true is it? John Henry. You probably saw him last year. Good guy, not perfect… who is. But he tried to do right by you.”
“Yeah? Well then were the hell was he huh? He was off training some wres- oh..,” Jacob blinked a bit as he looked over at Bryan with sudden understanding. “That’s where I know you from, you’re him… that guy!”
“Bryan Payne,” Bryan said with a big lopsided smile and then sank a fifth ball while murmering, “side pocket.”
“So what are you doing here bothering me?!” Jacob had stopped paying attention to the game.
“Me? I’m just here to play pool… eight-ball corner…,” that seemed to snap Jacob out of it as he realized he’d been completely played and the last ball sank in and Bryan picked up the discarded pile of cash, leaving the watch but taking the ring too.
“Man, fuck you!” Jacob said tossing his stick down on the pool table and stalked off away from Bryan who flipped the ring over to a waitress. “When that guy comes back on… oh figure thirty minutes with the cops… make sure he gets that. He dropped about half the cash onto her tray to make it worth her while and then took off at a trot after the kid who had vanished out of a back door into an ally. He followed close behind.
“Will you wait up?”
“Give me one good reason!” He said, not even bothering to turn around to look at Bryan.
“Because I could make you rich.”
Jacob paused a bit and turned his head. “What you want some blow man? That what this is about… you and your fuck buddies what a snowflake treat for after your BIIG night and you thought you’d just throw the bastard a bone? Well screw you Chop Stick!”
“Not exactly,” Bryan said having to jog a few steps again to catch him and then he reached out grabbing the man’s big arm and swinging him around. “Look wait a damn second here!”
Jacob jerked his arm free with almost effortless ease and made a pawing grab for Bryan who leaned back just enough to duck around the gesture and swung his leg hard into the front of Jacob’s legs sending the big man crashing down to the floor. He fell forward then letting his knee press down onto the center of his back to prevent him from standing, or at least making it difficult.
“Look kid, I’m serious. You wanna go ‘round and ‘round here in this ally and get busted when that jerk off you hustled shows back up with the cops and finds… hmmm I wonder what on you? Be my guest, let’s dance. Or we can get out of here and talk business. What’s it gonna be Eight-Ball?”
“Who the fuck is Eight-Ball?!”
“That’s your new ring name.”
Jacob looked up at Bryan and snorted.
“No fucking way!”
“Your choice Eight,” Bryan said as he handed him a card with his name and phone number on it, “That number will get you my PA… 24/7. You change your mind kid, call me, I’ll fly you out to watch the show and after… we’ll talk. You’ve got the look, you’ve got the muscles. Six months with me and I’ll do for you what your old man did for me. I’m make you a fucking star. Money, women, respect… a future that doesn’t end in ally… lot like this. Your call.”
“Man why you doing this? I don’t know you for shit.”
“You’re right, you don’t. But you might say that the favors of the father are visited upon the son along with the sins….”
Bryan walked away from a confused Jacob then leaving him standing alone in that ally. He crumbled up the card and moved as though he were about to throw it away and then he paused, swallowing and flattened it out, regarding it for a few minutes until the sound of sirens in the distance reminded him it was time to get gone.
(*******)
(24 hours before Shockwave: APW Studio)
Bryan walked into the media room. Further inside techs were scurrying around madly trying to fit together the hundred things that had to wait to the last minute, any one of which could royally screw things up for the show. They were a dedicated group of people, there was no denying that. And while guys like himself might be the face of a promotion like APW…. Those techs were the organs that kept it alive.
“Kenny, Gale, Hermon,” Bryan said with a nod and a smile to several of them as he passed, shaking a few hands even taking a minute to sign the back of one guy’s event shirt. He hoped he didn’t get caught on camera like that, it might not go over so well. Still little things like this Bryan was happy to do, he just wished more people did. “We about ready to shoot this thing?”
“Yeah, think so Mr. Payne, just give us a few more seconds to set up the lighting. So, you gonna beat this guy?”
Bryan flashed him a little smile and a wink.
“Hey, it’s me.” He chuckled a little bit to himself. He glanced over into the far corner where the looming figure of Jacob stood… getting a few odd looks himself, and couldn’t suppress a little nod in the kid’s direction. Kid. Hell the guy was only a couple years younger than Bryan himself and probably hadn’t had any kid left in him by the time he hit puberty but it was a force of habit… it just felt right.
“In three… two….” The tech rolled his hand over and pointed at Bryan as the camera kicked on.
“Shaun Kilgore,” Bryan said with a little bit of a smile, “I mean really what is there to say about the guy that I haven’t already said by now, right? Now this guy hit APW just about the same time I did, climbed the ranks… fought his way into a title picture and when it came, just like I did… he grabbed the opportunity with both hands and unseated a proud champ to hold APW gold for the first time. Gotta give it to the guy; that takes guts, nerve, and talent.”
“But what has he done with all that since? We’ve talked about it… he’s using the Red Shield Mafia as his stooges, his human shields because after working so hard for this bit of success and recognition here in APW he’s now terrified of losing it. He’s looking around seeing Cyrus wanting a rematch, seeing Biggs that he’s pissed off, seeing an ever growing list of stars in the wings now just waiting for a chance to snap him in half and take what’s his. Now Kilgore is getting a taste of what it’s like to be the hunted.” Bryan cracks a wolfish smile.
“He’s not longer acting with a goal in mind, he’s reacting… thrashing about like a wounded lion at anyone and everything he thinks might be a threat to him. That’s really what the unification of the RSM and the Greatness is all about… a shared feeling of inferiority and fear blended together to form a group dedicated to never realizing their full potential… out of the pure terror of knowing that they might fail.”
“Shaun, I hate to be the one to break this to you, because usually this is a lesson that everyone learns when they’re pretty young, but failure is just part of life. Its how we learn, its how we grow, it’s how we come to recognize our own limitations and realize where we can improve ourselves to overcome them. Set our sights even higher for the future.”
“Now I’ve been pretty complimentary to Kilgore until my recent run ins with him… so some of you might think it’s a little… hypocritical of me to be so harsh on him now. But the truth of the matter is this formation is pretty recent too, and my vocal denunciation of them goes back a ways even in the defense of a man that well… as you’ve all seen, I don’t quite see eye to eye with. So because of that, Shaun sends his goons after me but he forgot a cardinal rule… don’t bite off more than you can chew. That’s what happened when Biggs realized the opening Shaun had given him… and so he signed me up to fight Kilgore for the Overdrive title. I’m going to take it from Kilgore and I’m going to become the longest reigning Overdrive champion in APW history. Why you ask? What possible benefit is that to me? Two birds my friends, first I will show Kilgore that by surrounding himself with weak men he has damaged himself, his reliance on them, his using them to fight his battles for him has brought him down. And second… Biggs is going to be furious when his buddy can’t get his belt back.” He grinned then and gave a soft shrug of his shoulders.
“I assure you though, I’m going to be doing a lot more than just taking away the toys of the wicked. See because while I might have to pin Kilgore to take his title belt, that’s not really the only thing at stake here is it? No… Kilgore’s reputation is on the line right? I’ve called into question his dedication, his commitment, and everyone saying that I am going to have a cake walk in this match have called him out. Now he’s got to deliver. Sure he can have his buddies force a DQ or something like that if he gets in trouble… but what is that really going to be except an admission from him that he really isn’t, as he says… ‘in my league.’”
“Now I’m not expecting an easy match at Shockwave. No, anytime you put someone’s back up against the wall you can expect them to come out swinging for all their worth. But there is something different about this title match Shaun as I just said; even though you’re the champion… you’re also still the one with something to prove. You have to prove you can step in the ring with the top dogs in this company and compete. You have to prove that you aren’t a fluke a one hit wonder, another flash in the pan rookie in the APW locker room whose going to buckle at the first hint of adversity. Well Shaun… welcome to adversity.”
“That’s your revelation for this week. Can you rise up to it? Are you equal to the challenge can you feel the Payne and live to tell the tale? Lester felt it… and he’s still recovering. Giants in this business have felt it, men with careers decades long have felt it and look over their shoulders when they know I’m coming now… I’ve earned that respect for myself. So to you Shaun? I’ve got zip to prove except another day at the office. I don’t have to prove because everyone knows that from the moment I step foot inside that ring until the moment the last bell sounds its going to be nothing but absolute mayhem inside that ring and you’re standing right in the eye of the hurricane my friend.”
“You stepped on Superman’s cape…. Now it’s time to pay the price.”
“Because you wanted the opportunity to prove yourself, you wanted a challenge… you wanted the respect you seem to think you’re so entitled to just by breathing. Now you have to step inside the ring with me and earn it. Earn it from a man… who’s as interest in causing physical damage to you… as he is in anything to do with that title belt. See Shaun, because if you buddies DQ you a way to keep that belt… but I put lay you up like I did Level One? Hey.. my mission is accomplished. If I take that belt from you and you attack me after the match.. hey mission accomplished. If you sneak away and refuse to fight me… mission accomplished. The truth is Kilgore any way you slice it my only desire is to punish you for what you’ve been doing… and take a little bit of pay back for myself.”
“Your task is harder Kilgore, because not only do you have to convince your butt buddies back stage and all these people that you can compete with me… you’ve also got to convince yourself. Now maybe you think that’s not a problem, and maybe you’ve talked yourself up into such a state of self-confidence that you really think you can step into the ring and beat me in a match right now. Maybe you’re right. But Shaun… I think deep down in our heart of hearts we both know a sick little truth… and that truth is that you’re dead wrong.”
“Its not about winning or losing Shaun, hell, its not even about how many belts of shiny gold you bring home… trust me, I have a collection. It’s about heart, commitment and a desire to overcome all obstacles to succeed. That is what respect is given for Shaun. That is what people remember. Not the guys who go around using others to make their own battles easier, stealing glory from the hard work of flunkies whose sole existence is based on making YOU look good; but by ripping it from the unconscious fingers of your opponents with skill, intensity, and desire.”
“These aren’t qualities that you have that can stand up to me Shaun. You don’t have the heart and the will to last inside that match with me with all this pressure beating down on you. With the expectations, the promises you’ve made and the assurances you’ve given that despite it all you can still overcome… because Shaun… when have you ever? No, the fact of the matter is Shaun you and your manager already know the only way you’re walking out of Shockwave still holding that Overdrive title is with the help of the Nutz or the RSM. Your only chance not to be remembered as just another footnote on that title… is to cheat, because you don’t have the faith in yourself to fight me any other way.”
A slow easy smile danced around Bryan’s lips then.
“How does it feel Shaun… to feel the minutes and seconds ticking away? How does it feel waiting and waiting in silence for me to respond to you? Truth is I almost didn’t, I almost said to myself there was no reason for me to… after all I’ve got nothing to prove, no real reason to enter a discussion with you before our match. But then I decided that this is my opportunity to educate you on exactly what is required… as I did John and Hades before you Kilgore I’m going to beat the main event ceiling into your fucking forehead.”
He stepped to one side then and the camera followed him to a Shockwave poster where in the background Bryan and Shaun stood almost nose to nose.
“See this poster Shaun? You’re not there because of that Overdrive title, you’re not there because someone wanted you there…. You’re there because your name is next to mine. You’ve stolen this moment for yourself only by the actions and help of your buddies… you didn’t earn a billboard role. You’re a runner up champion who went around gang banging super-stars until you finally got noticed. Congrats man… congrats. Mission accomplished. What I want you to do… is take one of these posters Sunday night and take it around the locker room. Get your buddies… Sally… Joe…John…Vic.. One… get everyone to sign it. Because the fact is you’ll need it for your scrap book because it’s the last headline fight you’re ever going to get in this company. When I get through with you at Shockwave… the whole world is going to know that Shaun Kilgore, really is the Showstoper, because every time he’s on… the audience clicks off.”
“So after you get your souvenir, your fifteen seconds, go ahead and enjoy being so close to home again. Go out on the town, eat some dead cow, shoot a shotgun, blow a horse… fry broccoli, you know the usual Texas stuff… and go ahead and do your family and friends a favor by reminding them they still have a chance to sell their tickets to avoid wasting their time coming to watch me beat the every loving snot out of you.”
“You think you’re the next big thing hot shot, you think you’ve got all the angles covered? Buddy you haven’t got a clue. You’re not stepping into the ring with a legend my friend you’re not even stepping into the ring with an idea, you’re stepping into the ring with King fucking Kong! You’re stepping into the ring with the man who took out the entire Red Shield Mafia in a hardcore handicap match. Hades fell to me in the same, Lester might never be the same, Ryan Ruckus, Stu Who, The One Ring Circus, the Belmonts, John Green has tried his hardest twice, Robb McBride… the number of titles and accomplishments that group I just described can’t even begin to do it my friend and they all have one thing in common… they’ve all tried it; to take me down take me out of the game. But here I’m standing… bigger and badder and more hungry than ever.”
“Kilgore… you’re right. You don’t have to really worry about defending your title at Shockwave… your buddies have your back for that. No my friend, you just have to worry about SURVIVING Shockwave. ‘Cause once you get a taste of the Payne baby… you’re never the same. Feel it.”
