Post by Zane on Feb 8, 2022 23:29:07 GMT -5
After Synergy
Zane steps back through the curtain and walks through Gorilla. The staff at the position turns and looks at him in confusion as he shuffles past, seemingly in a daze and completely disconnected from everything around him. He passes through Gorilla and into the backstage area and makes it through Catering when he’s approached by Roxy Malone.
“Zane!” She asks, “What happened out there?”
Zane pauses but doesn't look at her, at least not initially.
“Zane?” She presses, this time sounding a little more concerned.
He stops and his shoulders sag a bit. The two stand in awkward silence for a few seconds before he finally looks at her.
“What?” he asks, his tone exhausted, sad and extremely detached.
“What happened out there?” Roxy asks. “You lost, then just up and walked out like it didn't and doesn’t matter.”
He stands silently for a few seconds before he sighs a pained sigh.
“It doesn’t.” He replies.
Before she can follow up, he steps around her and continues his shuffling walk down the hall, oblivious to everything around him. Roxy watches him for a few seconds, then turns and shrugs at the camera.
At the Morgan-Baal Residence
He’d stepped from the room when he felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. He knew it wasn’t the best time because “something, something, insult, strategy, something, something”. Frankly, he didn’t care. Rydell, Johnson, and Centurion weren’t his problem. They’d have had to have been “a” problem first, which none of them were. Rydell had been once, but after two years in exile, what was the point in holding onto that? The guy had been through enough of his own shit, and not so deep down, he could relate pretty well to the guy. They both loved the business. Both of them held the Cross-Hemisphere Championship in incredibly high regard and prided themselves on being multi-time and consequential holders of that championship. They also both knew how important the World Championship was and gave it the respect it deserved. Yes, he’d held while Rydell hadn’t, but he underwood that few valued a thing more than the person who craved it and had never achieved it. That was Rydell. People mocked him for that. He had. He felt no such inclination anymore.
Then there was Donovan.
Rydell hated Donovan.
Zane could understand that, for he’d felt the same way about Donovan for a long time. Then life had played its weird trick on them and forced them to team. Their history was well known from there. They succeeded when they should have failed. Donovan had played his games with Zane, then eventually betrayed him. Donovan had sworn that it was only a test and that he’d been truly sorry. Zane accepted the apology and even forgave Donovan for what he’d done, understanding that he’d done it to ensure the safety of Scarlett and Katie. Zane couldn’t hold that against him, but that hadn’t meant that the betrayal, whatever the reason, had torn that part out of him that had so very little left to lose.
Then Zane got suspended. Well, not right away, but a lot of what happened after Donovan’s betrayal and Zane’s suspension felt like parts of a pre-destined outcome. At first. As time went on and more and more frustration was piled onto it, it began to look less like an outcome of fate and more and more like a plan. Perhaps even a plot. Now, this.
This.
He felt himself shudder a bit inside.
That said, "this" had nothing to do with Rydell, so why punish him for it?
Maybe the same should be said for Kyra, but meh. She'd opened her yap and let it run away with her. Why let that pass unanswered, or at the very least unconsidered.
Who was Kyra to him? Nobody. Sure, she'd talked shit about him and called him weak, or some such grasping bullshit, but in the end...
So what?
What had she proven during her tenure with UGWC?
Anyone?
Exactly.
So Kyra, whether your team wins on Monday or not, you need to shut up and understand that no matter how far down I might look; until you accomplish something here, you should just keep it bottled up. If you catch my drift.
Not that telling her that made the more important situation outside of the company feel any better. It didn't. He still felt like he'd been run over with a train.
What was one more kick in the dick from life? At this point, Zane felt like he should be numb to them, but he wasn’t. While each one beat him down a bit further, it also caused something inside of him to stir. At first, it had felt like nothing, a bit of passing indigestion. Something to be discounted and ignored as a one-off. Then his first petition for reinstatement had been ignored. He hadn’t even received a legalese version of “go fuck yourself”.
Just silence.
"Go fuck yourself". That was basically what Centurion had said to him, although not in so many words. His disdainful dismissal had amounted to the same thing. At least Centurion had the World Championship to hide behind when he acted like the wrestling version of "Grumpy Old Men". Sure, Centurion would probably laugh that age crack off, but deep down no wrestler of forty or more liked to be reminded that he or she was rapidly approaching the wrestling combination of AARP and the proverbial glue factory.
Still, Centurion's blatant disrespect had caused that feeling deep in the pit of his stomach that felt a lot like indigestion. It wasn't that, but that was what it felt like. It was the same feeling that followed every time he took one of those dick shots from life. Again, it wasn't the sort of thing one ever really adjusted to, in spite of everyone else's assertions to the contrary.
Over time, the passing indigestion sensation became a burning rumble, and he'd felt as if something had tilted a bit in his mind. He’d had a weird mental image of Don Quixote, which had struck him as quite odd and out of place at the time. In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t. Now it made a little more sense, even if the story itself was absurd and silly.
“Silly” felt like a word that could’ve been connected to his suspension from the start. At first, a small and surprising “Free Zane” movement had happened on Twitter and had even sold a few shirts. Donovan had been at the front of that, and Zane had appreciated his support. Then that support went away as Donovan found a new plaything to distract himself with. Eventually, Donovan and everyone else in the company had completely forgotten about him. The company he’d spent his entire career with, had built up and carried on his back at times, and had made obscenely wealthy by coming up with the most successful stable in the history of the company, “The Syndicate”. He’d helped put over returning legends like Travis Roberts, build new talents of the time like Aveline Lacklan into stars, and had helped turn young stars like Angelica Vaughn into deserving household names.
Had anyone ever thanked him for that?
Of course not. All they did was mock and disrespect him. They spit on him, shit on his legacy, and laughed as the bookers turned his name from one that was feared and respected in the company into one that was nothing more than that of well-paid enhancement talent. A joke. Once the shine was gone and he’d served his purpose, they’d thrown him out like trash and moved on to the new shiny thing. That was the ultimate disrespect from life as far as he’d been concerned.
Until now.
As he stood and listened to his father on the other end of the line, he felt his heart drop into his stomach and his stomach drop out completely. The world started to spin around him and didn’t stop spinning until he’d felt something fiercely latch itself onto his leg. He looked down to see Katie Hastings looking up at him with eyes that were far too perceptive for a child of her age. Yet at that moment, the adoring expression on her face had brought him back into reality. He’d knelt down and hugged her before he was even aware that he’d done it. As it turned out, it’d been just what he’d needed in order to rediscover the strength to get a grip on his raging emotions and control over his spinning mind.
He’d lifted the phone back to his ear and said something to his father. He heard the words come out, but they didn't register. They were just a reflex. He’d disconnected that call only to make another. A speed dial and a short conversation later, his mentors were on their way to pick him up. He knew he was in no condition to drive, especially in darkness and snow when he was this unfocused.
Finally, Donovan had come out with Scarlett, and the Morgan-Baal’s in tow. They all looked confused. Well, at least Donovan and Scarlett did. Poor kid. He’d end up breaking his promise to her. To them. The feeling made his gut twist and then drop again. He passionately hated himself at that moment, although he knew he shouldn’t.
The Baal’s. Regardless of their expressions at that moment, Zane knew that Eden and Gabriel didn’t care why he’d gone or why he now looked like instant roadkill. Not that he expected them to. If Eden had known what was going on, she’d probably kick him while he was down just for the fun of it.
He’d said his “goodbyes” and left without another word. What was there to say?
What he’d been told on the phone was another insult and a particularly grievous one that caused his world to tilt a bit more off of its axis.
Within, The Old One stirred.
Zane steps back through the curtain and walks through Gorilla. The staff at the position turns and looks at him in confusion as he shuffles past, seemingly in a daze and completely disconnected from everything around him. He passes through Gorilla and into the backstage area and makes it through Catering when he’s approached by Roxy Malone.
“Zane!” She asks, “What happened out there?”
Zane pauses but doesn't look at her, at least not initially.
“Zane?” She presses, this time sounding a little more concerned.
He stops and his shoulders sag a bit. The two stand in awkward silence for a few seconds before he finally looks at her.
“What?” he asks, his tone exhausted, sad and extremely detached.
“What happened out there?” Roxy asks. “You lost, then just up and walked out like it didn't and doesn’t matter.”
He stands silently for a few seconds before he sighs a pained sigh.
“It doesn’t.” He replies.
Before she can follow up, he steps around her and continues his shuffling walk down the hall, oblivious to everything around him. Roxy watches him for a few seconds, then turns and shrugs at the camera.
At the Morgan-Baal Residence
He’d stepped from the room when he felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. He knew it wasn’t the best time because “something, something, insult, strategy, something, something”. Frankly, he didn’t care. Rydell, Johnson, and Centurion weren’t his problem. They’d have had to have been “a” problem first, which none of them were. Rydell had been once, but after two years in exile, what was the point in holding onto that? The guy had been through enough of his own shit, and not so deep down, he could relate pretty well to the guy. They both loved the business. Both of them held the Cross-Hemisphere Championship in incredibly high regard and prided themselves on being multi-time and consequential holders of that championship. They also both knew how important the World Championship was and gave it the respect it deserved. Yes, he’d held while Rydell hadn’t, but he underwood that few valued a thing more than the person who craved it and had never achieved it. That was Rydell. People mocked him for that. He had. He felt no such inclination anymore.
Then there was Donovan.
Rydell hated Donovan.
Zane could understand that, for he’d felt the same way about Donovan for a long time. Then life had played its weird trick on them and forced them to team. Their history was well known from there. They succeeded when they should have failed. Donovan had played his games with Zane, then eventually betrayed him. Donovan had sworn that it was only a test and that he’d been truly sorry. Zane accepted the apology and even forgave Donovan for what he’d done, understanding that he’d done it to ensure the safety of Scarlett and Katie. Zane couldn’t hold that against him, but that hadn’t meant that the betrayal, whatever the reason, had torn that part out of him that had so very little left to lose.
Then Zane got suspended. Well, not right away, but a lot of what happened after Donovan’s betrayal and Zane’s suspension felt like parts of a pre-destined outcome. At first. As time went on and more and more frustration was piled onto it, it began to look less like an outcome of fate and more and more like a plan. Perhaps even a plot. Now, this.
This.
He felt himself shudder a bit inside.
That said, "this" had nothing to do with Rydell, so why punish him for it?
Maybe the same should be said for Kyra, but meh. She'd opened her yap and let it run away with her. Why let that pass unanswered, or at the very least unconsidered.
Who was Kyra to him? Nobody. Sure, she'd talked shit about him and called him weak, or some such grasping bullshit, but in the end...
So what?
What had she proven during her tenure with UGWC?
Anyone?
Exactly.
So Kyra, whether your team wins on Monday or not, you need to shut up and understand that no matter how far down I might look; until you accomplish something here, you should just keep it bottled up. If you catch my drift.
Not that telling her that made the more important situation outside of the company feel any better. It didn't. He still felt like he'd been run over with a train.
What was one more kick in the dick from life? At this point, Zane felt like he should be numb to them, but he wasn’t. While each one beat him down a bit further, it also caused something inside of him to stir. At first, it had felt like nothing, a bit of passing indigestion. Something to be discounted and ignored as a one-off. Then his first petition for reinstatement had been ignored. He hadn’t even received a legalese version of “go fuck yourself”.
Just silence.
"Go fuck yourself". That was basically what Centurion had said to him, although not in so many words. His disdainful dismissal had amounted to the same thing. At least Centurion had the World Championship to hide behind when he acted like the wrestling version of "Grumpy Old Men". Sure, Centurion would probably laugh that age crack off, but deep down no wrestler of forty or more liked to be reminded that he or she was rapidly approaching the wrestling combination of AARP and the proverbial glue factory.
Still, Centurion's blatant disrespect had caused that feeling deep in the pit of his stomach that felt a lot like indigestion. It wasn't that, but that was what it felt like. It was the same feeling that followed every time he took one of those dick shots from life. Again, it wasn't the sort of thing one ever really adjusted to, in spite of everyone else's assertions to the contrary.
Over time, the passing indigestion sensation became a burning rumble, and he'd felt as if something had tilted a bit in his mind. He’d had a weird mental image of Don Quixote, which had struck him as quite odd and out of place at the time. In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t. Now it made a little more sense, even if the story itself was absurd and silly.
“Silly” felt like a word that could’ve been connected to his suspension from the start. At first, a small and surprising “Free Zane” movement had happened on Twitter and had even sold a few shirts. Donovan had been at the front of that, and Zane had appreciated his support. Then that support went away as Donovan found a new plaything to distract himself with. Eventually, Donovan and everyone else in the company had completely forgotten about him. The company he’d spent his entire career with, had built up and carried on his back at times, and had made obscenely wealthy by coming up with the most successful stable in the history of the company, “The Syndicate”. He’d helped put over returning legends like Travis Roberts, build new talents of the time like Aveline Lacklan into stars, and had helped turn young stars like Angelica Vaughn into deserving household names.
Had anyone ever thanked him for that?
Of course not. All they did was mock and disrespect him. They spit on him, shit on his legacy, and laughed as the bookers turned his name from one that was feared and respected in the company into one that was nothing more than that of well-paid enhancement talent. A joke. Once the shine was gone and he’d served his purpose, they’d thrown him out like trash and moved on to the new shiny thing. That was the ultimate disrespect from life as far as he’d been concerned.
Until now.
As he stood and listened to his father on the other end of the line, he felt his heart drop into his stomach and his stomach drop out completely. The world started to spin around him and didn’t stop spinning until he’d felt something fiercely latch itself onto his leg. He looked down to see Katie Hastings looking up at him with eyes that were far too perceptive for a child of her age. Yet at that moment, the adoring expression on her face had brought him back into reality. He’d knelt down and hugged her before he was even aware that he’d done it. As it turned out, it’d been just what he’d needed in order to rediscover the strength to get a grip on his raging emotions and control over his spinning mind.
He’d lifted the phone back to his ear and said something to his father. He heard the words come out, but they didn't register. They were just a reflex. He’d disconnected that call only to make another. A speed dial and a short conversation later, his mentors were on their way to pick him up. He knew he was in no condition to drive, especially in darkness and snow when he was this unfocused.
Finally, Donovan had come out with Scarlett, and the Morgan-Baal’s in tow. They all looked confused. Well, at least Donovan and Scarlett did. Poor kid. He’d end up breaking his promise to her. To them. The feeling made his gut twist and then drop again. He passionately hated himself at that moment, although he knew he shouldn’t.
The Baal’s. Regardless of their expressions at that moment, Zane knew that Eden and Gabriel didn’t care why he’d gone or why he now looked like instant roadkill. Not that he expected them to. If Eden had known what was going on, she’d probably kick him while he was down just for the fun of it.
He’d said his “goodbyes” and left without another word. What was there to say?
What he’d been told on the phone was another insult and a particularly grievous one that caused his world to tilt a bit more off of its axis.
Within, The Old One stirred.
2013, '18, '23 
2013 