Blaine 1
Mar 6, 2012 21:59:31 GMT -5
Post by The Rogue on Mar 6, 2012 21:59:31 GMT -5
Training recently had been hard. With everything Jess had said, all the heated discussions over my words and choices recently, training had to be my prerogative. Challenging Blaine to a ladder match as a symbolic gesture for his rise to the top had been stupid. Jess had mentioned I was lucky the board didn’t agree to this despite the other challenge I had made. A street fight against the toughest man in the FGA. Moronic. Childish. So all I could do was push my limits, harder than ever. I assumed it was working because I was tired. That had to be a sign of effort at least. I could say I had tried. Jess had brought me to see A Chorus Line for the fourth time, a show I did enjoy, but fatigue got to me. I fell asleep.
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“God I hope I get it! I hope I get it! How many people does he need?”
16 years old. Sweating. Trying hard to impress the trainers, with Jess by my side. My karate and mixed martial arts training seems to be catching some eyes. That along with my sheer determination could go a long way. At least that’s what I told myself. I can do this. The trainers watched me, scrutinizing every move with their judgmental expressions. Was I doing well? Was it enough? I wanted to be a wrestler. My desire to compete on a world stage, to be the best… All of it, brought me here. The start of my real journey. Again and again I took bumps. Felt my ass being handed to me by much larger guys. But every time I was slammed down, I got up. I asked for more. Despite all this, I couldn’t help but feel as if I was fighting a losing battle. Eventually the day was up and we stood in our lines, waiting for an opinion. Three men out of thirty were selected. I was not one of them. But that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted an answer to why my dreams were being overlooked.
Mike: Why didn’t you pick me?
Trainer: Why should I have?
Mike: I have great striking ability. That was unmatched. My willpower alone shows I have potential. So what’s the big idea?
Trainer: You’re too small, for a start. You need another 60lbs to be taken seriously, kid. And you have no wrestling abilitiy whatsoever. Sure you can learn it. But that’s not what we are looking for. And you’re too young, kid. Comeback in a couple of years when you have learnt a few things. When you’re bigger. When you’re older, more experience.
Mike: I am a fast learner.
Trainer: Your heart is admirable. It will take you to great heights if you let it. But now is not the time.
I left him, dejected. Jess had her arm around me the whole time. My life had been put on hold. But then Jess had an idea. One that would forever change my life.
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“What does he want from me? Who am I supposed to be?”
Tim: This him?
Jess: Yeah.
Tim: Not much to look at.
Jess: You can change that, Uncle Tim. I know you can.
Tim: I’m not very charitable.
Jess: Think about it. If he is only half as good as I say he is, he can give you a future. Together you can both make it back where you belong. Where you both do. You can forever be synonymous for being his tutor and also reclaim what is yours. If he’s not, tell him to forget about it and that will be that. We’ll be on our way and you can go back to…. You can just do what you want, Uncle Tim.
Tim: Does Michelle know you have asked me?
Jess: I don’t think she would mind.
Tim: It’s been a while.
Jess: She loves you, Uncle Tim. She misses you.
Tim: She’s Grace’s sister.
Jess: She’s Marvin’s brother.
Tim: Will I see more of you if I agree to do this?
Jess: Yes. If you want to.
Tim: Bring him in.[/color]
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“Who am I anyway? Am I my résumé? That is a picture, of a person I don’t know.”
He was impressed. I showed him everything in my arsenal and he was convinced he had something to work with. More than that, I saw in him a change. One that Jessica also noticed. Something in his eyes was different from when I had first stepped into the room. A fire had ignited. I didn’t know what it was at the time but I soon noticed a change in his personality. His appearance. His hygiene. It was as if the soulless man I had been introduced to had been replaced by a new man. Almost identical in appearance, and yet completely different. He had desire, burning within him. Seeing everything great in me had reminded him of who he was. And together we prepared to take the London independent scene by storm. Four years passed quickly. Then he said I was ready. We were ready. All I had to do was prove it to him.
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“Look at all the people, at all the people. Look at all the people!”
FGA doors opened to me. The new recruit hungry to make a name. Countless suits, in a semi established company shook my hand, without a true care. I was just another seed, being planted to see how the roots grew. I knew that. But they didn’t know that I was not the same as all the other seeds. I was new. Untested. Just like a few of the other wrestlers here. But in me was that innate desire to not only succeed, but to be the very best. The will to never give up and never back down. The essence in me that separated men from legends. One day it would be me. And then, walking into the boss’ office, I saw on his mantel the very thing that would prove it to the world; or at least to New Jersey. The FGA Heavyweight Championship Belt. The only Title that had been established, prime and ready for the taking. It had been explained to me that he had an idea of how to crown the first ever Champion. One that would carry the company on his shoulders and wear it with pride. I smiled at him and I swear he recognized the glint in my eye. The hunger. The thirst. That Championship would be mine one day; not one day far off. Soon. Part of me knew then that I would be the first man to wear that belt. The gold and I had a destiny intertwined with one another. I knew it. I needed it.
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“God I hope I get it!”
Two men down. One to go. Jared James. The only other undefeated wrestler on the roster. Everyone had said he would be the Champion. But that was until I had defeated both Scott Reave and Chandler Scott to get here. I would not come this far only to fall short. I dodged and weaved my way around him. I took a hell of a beating in a somewhat one sided match. And then I saw it, the opening I needed. I had a split second to get through a door that was shutting fast. And then, before anyone had time to say “Jared James,” the Finishing Touch was landed, and my three seconds were earned. Time seemed to stop for a moment. Silence hit me. And then, boom! And explosion of sound. And then the gold was handed to me. I was entranced. Though I had believed it all the way up until now…. I didn’t believe it. The moment had come. I was made. I was the first ever Champion in a fast rising company. History, present and future all rolled in to one.
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“One, Singular Sensation, every little step she takes.”
Jess: Mike! You’re snoring!
It took me a few seconds to grab where I was, before I took in all of the annoyed faces around me. I had obviously offended as well as annoyed the fellow members of the audience. Ah well. Jess glared at me, and I flashed her the most innocent smile I could. Luckily for me this was the reprise of the song, so the show would finish soon and I could escape without falling asleep again and causing more upset. We quickly exited our seats on the grand circle and made our way to the outside in a hurry. As soon as we were on the crowded streets of London’s West End, she decided to lay it on me. Clearly her mood at me was going to transfer to things outside of the wrestling business.
Jess: Why fall asleep? You like that show! You can’t have been bored!
Mike: I’m tired.
Jess: Then why did you agree to come?!
Mike: Because you wanted to see it again before we went back to the states.
Jess: I would have preferred to watch it without the snoring!
Mike: I am sorry, ok? I have been training hard and I am tired!
Jess: You always train hard!
Mike: Yeah but this is different, since I have a Title match against Blaine Harrison and then a Street Fight ag….
Cut off. Thanks darling.
Jess: You asked for that match! Despite me saying leave it be. Give yourself a rest while he cant hurt you! But no! A street fight with a dangerous maniac! He could seriously hurt you! Your career could be ended! I have heard thin…
My turn.
Mike: Jess! I will be fine! Please stop riding me on this or I will cancel your plane ticket home until after the Supershow.
She remained silent. That was at least one thing taken care of. Plus my head was killing. I had slept through a show and relived the key points of my career in my dream. But Why? Why had that all come to me now? I didn’t understand. What was it leading up to? And why the hell had all my memories been accompanied by Chorus Line lyrics? I was asleep. It didn’t make any sense to me. But then again, dreams rarely did when I could remember them. But my focus had to be important now. And I had clearly been inspired, in some form. When I got back to my hotel, I knew exactly what I had to say to Blaine Harrison.
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The scene opens to a close up of Michael Tomkins’ face. He is smiling his usual cocky smile as the screen pans out and we see his Pier Cardin suit, grey in color. The FGA Gold is draped over his shoulder, as it seems he takes it everywhere with him.
Mike: Blaine, before I delve into the ins and outs of our Title match, I just have to be a little pedantic and correct you. You said, to quote a familiar saying, “To be the man, you gotta beat the man.” But you seem to be a little mistaken. In any other given situation, perhaps you would be right with this. I mean, it makes sense, right? But the reason you’re wrong, the reason you’re logic is flawed is for one simple reason. To be the man, you have gotta be me. And that wasn’t a slip of words Blaine. You can’t be the man in Frontier without being named Michael Tomkins. And there is only one Michael Tomkins here. You’re looking at him. You’re listening to the words flowing out of his mouth. And do you know what annoys you, Blaine? The fact that you know, despite your recent form, you are a great wrestler. You are an amazing competitor who will go leaps and bounds to show that form and ability are two separate things. You might even be the second best wrestler in the company. But you aren’t the best. You will never be the best. Why? Because the Raise-The-Bar-Superstar is here with the promise to do just that. Everytime anyone comes close to equaling his conquests and his talent, he will dip into his potential and pull more class A awesomeness out of the bag and whop your ass all over the ring. This isn’t a mark of disrespect, Blaine. This isn’t me trying to put you down, because I know who you are. I know that you have earned your spot as the number one contender to my FGA Heavyweight Championship.
He shrugs, with his cheeky half smile lighting up his face.
Mike: I don’t mean to sound too self assured, Blaine. But let’s face the facts. Seven wins. Five men have tried to defeat me. Seven matches without loss. The record speaks for itself. I am a hard man to beat. Some might say it can’t be done. Some might say never say never. But the fact remains that it takes three seconds to win a match, just three. And time and time again I will be willing to put my reputation on the line and say that they ALWAYS belong to me. It’s not being arrogant, because so far I have backed up every word that I have said. I am a man that talks the talk and walks the walk. A fine combination if I do say so myself. But here you are, Blaine, coming in to my world ready and willing to turn it on it’s head. I give credit where it is due. You will be the one that causes me to up my game to another level. I will have to find parts of me as yet undiscovered. But when you are dazed and confused. Out on your back. Staring up at the lights. You’ll see a man standing over you, Blaine. His arm will be raised. The Championship will be held high above his head. And a voice will announce that he is STILL the FGA Champion.
Michael Tomkins steps closer to the camera so that it focuses on the gold glistening in the hotel room lights.
Mike: Take a moment. Look at the thing you desire, Blaine. Soak it in. Get a real good look at it. Breathe in deep. Feel it burn. Long for it.
He steps back away, with the arrogant smile still worn proudly.
Mike: Now Kiss the Day Goodbye, Blaine. I see you, with a similar expression that I had when I first joined the FGA. When I first got entered into the tournament, I had to look at all the people. I tried to work out what my name was already doing amongst other highly regarded names. I knew I was the underdog and I was ready to prove all the critics wrong. That is where the similarities end, though. You see I was the man I claimed to be, ready to take what was mine. You’re just a grown up version of the child you once were, “hello twelve, hello thirteen,” Blaine Harrison, “time to doubt,” Blaine. That doubt is in there. I can picture you in the gym working your ass off to try and “beat the man.” But all your effort will be in vain. But there’s always tomorrow. I’ll point you there. One day. But for now, for the first time ever we face each other in an FGA ring. While I aim to do whatever I can to continue my streak, I will be more than glad to introduce you to my left boot.
His foot taps on the ground a bit, to emphasize this message.
Mike: Remember who I am? I don’t care if you lost to Scott Reave, who I have beaten twice. I don’t care if you lost in a tag team match to Chandler Scott, who I have defeated twice, and Preston who I have yet to meet in a sanctioned match. I don’t care if Jared James bested you. You know, the guy I beat to win the FGA Heavyweight Championship at the Supershow? That Jared James. Since I arrived I have had a match every single week and I have won every time. You have had losses dotted all over the place and I have studied you hard. I know you submit. I know you can be pinned. I know your attention might not be as good as mine. Weaknesses, Blaine, are not a good thing to go into a match with the greatest wrestler in the company with. Four losses. But like I said, what goes down on paper is not anything I care about. But clearly it has eaten at you. That doubt in you is far to big a factor to exclude. And unfortunately, Blaine, if you doubt yourself for a second, then three seconds later I will have retained my Title.
The straps jumps up on Michael’s shoulder, landing in place as if it hadn’t move. He pauses, looks down at it for a moment, before looking back at the camera.
Mike: But we both know the main event of this Wednesday night Combat will be the best match on the card. We’ll put on the most memorable match of the night, maybe even the month and people will walk away saying that even though Blaine Harrison lost, he sure as hell put up one hell of an effort. He pushed the Champion to his limits, gave him every ounce of gusto he had and came this close to ending that fabled winning streak. I already commend your efforts thus far at being the first ever contender for my belt. I know your effort will be a valiant one and you’ll do everything but win. I will take one hell of a beating, something I have developed a talent for, and I will feel it all the way to the Supershow; Spring Breakage. And if that isn’t enough, I will be extremely vulnerable against Micky O’Reilly thanks to the beating that you give me. But I will still walk out of that ring and I will still be your FGA Champion. Like you said; I am the man. And that’s how I plan to stay. See you on Wednesday, Blaine. I look forward to our match. Oh, one last thing. I won’t forget to apply the Finishing Touch.
The camera zooms back into the FGA Championship resting over his shoulder, before scrolling up to his face, which is still wearing the most arrogant and cocky expression Michael Tomkins owns. It lingers for a few seconds before concentrating on the Title once again. The everything fades to black….
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