Regular Night
I sit alone in my locker room, vaguely trying to rub the soreness out of my shoulder. I don't know if it is from age or if my fellow comrades were told to play stiff. I wouldn't be surprised. I am a young man, I'm suppose to heal easily. You could call that my weakness I guess. I've always been willing to put others over on my behalf and it was only a matter of time before it was taken for granted. It's not that I don't mind helping others, but I do have my pride and enough is enough. I don't know why I don't say anything about it. I should. Especially after tonight.
I was told I was going to be in a handicap table match against the Dudleys. As always I was to put them over and lose the match. When I was getting ready to go out, I was told that I was to be put through two tables, one for each Dudley. It was too late to do anything about it, so like always, I went along with it. The first table had been easy enough, a body slam by D-Von. I laid there, selling the pain, and waited for the second table. The 3-D was a little forceful then usual but I didn't think anything about it until I crashed through the table. It felt like my ribs nearly cracked and my breath caught in my chest. That table had not been pre-cut. I had crashed through solid wood. The pain on my face was real. The Dudleys left the ring to a shrill of boos, their arms were raised in victory while I laid there in defeat. As I tried to get in a breath, I listened as the course of boos turned into chants of my name. I was amazed. Even through my poor performance, my fans stood by me. It made me realize that I may leave this building a beaten man, but to them I will always be 'The People's Champion'. I am eternally grateful for that. They will always have a place in my heart.
It took me a bit longer to catch my breath, a bit longer to get up, but I finally did. The referee was kind enough to ask if I was okay. I said I was fine and slowly made my way up the ramp. As soon as I got behind the curtain I had to sit down, my chest incredibly tight. The EMT knelt down next to the chair and asked what had happened. I simply said I had landed wrong and got the wind knocked out of me. He nodded and left. I didn't say anything about the table. Word would have spread and I would have been labeled as a bitcher, a whiner. I've seen enough of it to know that when your stuck with that kind of title, you never live it down. Turns out Vince had 'conveniently' forgot to tell me that the table was purposely left un-cut. The purpose, as he said, was to sell the 3-D better. I have been used again. I know I should have be mad, furious, but I was more hurt than anything. I put my heart and soul in this business only to be treated like an inferior. I was the biggest thing this company has ever had and they knew it. They knew it well enough to know that a victory over me would push even the low card guys. Pretty soon that's all it became. No more intense fueds, no more big emotional victories, just me and the low carders. It gotten so bad that a victory over me no longer gave them quite as big as a push as it use to. I had, thanks to them, became almost a low carder myself. To me, I was no longer 'The Great One'.
I shook the negative thoughts from my head, knowing more would have come if I continued thinking about it. I took in as deep of a breath as I could and made my way to my locker room, where I now sit, reflecting back on the day that seemed to resemble so many others. I give up on trying to ease the pain in my shoulder and get up to take a hot shower. I then gather my things, and make my way to my car. It's a long drive to the next arena and tomorrow's another show.
End.
Rachel Ann
[email protected]
I'm not too good at the first person fics. I tried. Hope you enjoyed it.
I sit alone in my locker room, vaguely trying to rub the soreness out of my shoulder. I don't know if it is from age or if my fellow comrades were told to play stiff. I wouldn't be surprised. I am a young man, I'm suppose to heal easily. You could call that my weakness I guess. I've always been willing to put others over on my behalf and it was only a matter of time before it was taken for granted. It's not that I don't mind helping others, but I do have my pride and enough is enough. I don't know why I don't say anything about it. I should. Especially after tonight.
I was told I was going to be in a handicap table match against the Dudleys. As always I was to put them over and lose the match. When I was getting ready to go out, I was told that I was to be put through two tables, one for each Dudley. It was too late to do anything about it, so like always, I went along with it. The first table had been easy enough, a body slam by D-Von. I laid there, selling the pain, and waited for the second table. The 3-D was a little forceful then usual but I didn't think anything about it until I crashed through the table. It felt like my ribs nearly cracked and my breath caught in my chest. That table had not been pre-cut. I had crashed through solid wood. The pain on my face was real. The Dudleys left the ring to a shrill of boos, their arms were raised in victory while I laid there in defeat. As I tried to get in a breath, I listened as the course of boos turned into chants of my name. I was amazed. Even through my poor performance, my fans stood by me. It made me realize that I may leave this building a beaten man, but to them I will always be 'The People's Champion'. I am eternally grateful for that. They will always have a place in my heart.
It took me a bit longer to catch my breath, a bit longer to get up, but I finally did. The referee was kind enough to ask if I was okay. I said I was fine and slowly made my way up the ramp. As soon as I got behind the curtain I had to sit down, my chest incredibly tight. The EMT knelt down next to the chair and asked what had happened. I simply said I had landed wrong and got the wind knocked out of me. He nodded and left. I didn't say anything about the table. Word would have spread and I would have been labeled as a bitcher, a whiner. I've seen enough of it to know that when your stuck with that kind of title, you never live it down. Turns out Vince had 'conveniently' forgot to tell me that the table was purposely left un-cut. The purpose, as he said, was to sell the 3-D better. I have been used again. I know I should have be mad, furious, but I was more hurt than anything. I put my heart and soul in this business only to be treated like an inferior. I was the biggest thing this company has ever had and they knew it. They knew it well enough to know that a victory over me would push even the low card guys. Pretty soon that's all it became. No more intense fueds, no more big emotional victories, just me and the low carders. It gotten so bad that a victory over me no longer gave them quite as big as a push as it use to. I had, thanks to them, became almost a low carder myself. To me, I was no longer 'The Great One'.
I shook the negative thoughts from my head, knowing more would have come if I continued thinking about it. I took in as deep of a breath as I could and made my way to my locker room, where I now sit, reflecting back on the day that seemed to resemble so many others. I give up on trying to ease the pain in my shoulder and get up to take a hot shower. I then gather my things, and make my way to my car. It's a long drive to the next arena and tomorrow's another show.
End.
Rachel Ann
[email protected]
I'm not too good at the first person fics. I tried. Hope you enjoyed it.