Post by veronicaaaahhhh on Jan 10, 2008 11:23:43 GMT -5
The second time around, and Wayne McGurk was damned it came; Pierce Deville once again walked away the better man. Wayne veered past the face he saw in the mirror and saw Vanessa sitting on the bench behind him, plucking away at the skin around her fingers; thinking. Wayne closed his eyes, as he felt the dull hurt ride down the left side of his back; he gripped hard against the faucet, stopping himself from screaming.
Wayne waited as the hurt slowly drifted away. Wayne turned on the faucet and let his hands collect the falling water. Slowly he dipped his face against the sink, as he drew face against the cold water; he took his time, he wasn't in the mood to let himself adjust to the cold of the water.
Wayne ached himself away from the water and looked into the mirror; watching the little droplets of water falling down his face, washing away the sweat that adorned his face only moments ago.
Why are you doing this?
Murmuring softly.
Wayne motioned to the door that separated the locker room where Vanessa was and the bathroom, and closed it gently; he need the space, the man needing to be alone. Wayne returned to the face he saw in the mirror; the faucet on, water still flowing. Wayne pressed his hands against the counter as he dipped his head into the sink; his eyes closed and his long hair curtaining his face as the water flowed upon his scalp and drew down over his face. The once cold water warming now Wayne.
Wayne withdrew his face from the sink, as his scalp clashed against the cold steel of the faucet.
Fuck.
Wayne screamed aloud; the pain sharp as it was dull. Wayne slowly crept his head away from the sink. Wayne held a hand against bump on the back of his head, as he opened his eyes and looked at the mirror; man, finding it hard to distinguish the drops of water with the tears he felt rolling down his face.
Hey.
Wayne's heard a knock on the door.
Are you alright in there?
Wayne coughed to clear his throat.
I'm fine, babe.
What was that scream, then?
It was nothing.
It must've not been nothing for you to scream like that, what happened?
Wayne dropped his head against the mirror, and pressed his hands against those of his reflection. Wayne closed his eyes; the man barely breathing.
What do you want? What the fuck do you expect of yourself?
This is what you want. This is what you done to yourself. All you, Wayne McGurk, know is pain. You know it, because it hurts even more than how you give it.
[/i]Wayne waited as the hurt slowly drifted away. Wayne turned on the faucet and let his hands collect the falling water. Slowly he dipped his face against the sink, as he drew face against the cold water; he took his time, he wasn't in the mood to let himself adjust to the cold of the water.
Wayne ached himself away from the water and looked into the mirror; watching the little droplets of water falling down his face, washing away the sweat that adorned his face only moments ago.
Why are you doing this?
Murmuring softly.
Wayne motioned to the door that separated the locker room where Vanessa was and the bathroom, and closed it gently; he need the space, the man needing to be alone. Wayne returned to the face he saw in the mirror; the faucet on, water still flowing. Wayne pressed his hands against the counter as he dipped his head into the sink; his eyes closed and his long hair curtaining his face as the water flowed upon his scalp and drew down over his face. The once cold water warming now Wayne.
Wayne withdrew his face from the sink, as his scalp clashed against the cold steel of the faucet.
Fuck.
Wayne screamed aloud; the pain sharp as it was dull. Wayne slowly crept his head away from the sink. Wayne held a hand against bump on the back of his head, as he opened his eyes and looked at the mirror; man, finding it hard to distinguish the drops of water with the tears he felt rolling down his face.
Hey.
Wayne's heard a knock on the door.
Are you alright in there?
Wayne coughed to clear his throat.
I'm fine, babe.
What was that scream, then?
It was nothing.
It must've not been nothing for you to scream like that, what happened?
Wayne dropped his head against the mirror, and pressed his hands against those of his reflection. Wayne closed his eyes; the man barely breathing.
What do you want? What the fuck do you expect of yourself?
This is what you want. This is what you done to yourself. All you, Wayne McGurk, know is pain. You know it, because it hurts even more than how you give it.
Wayne opened his eyes to find the man on the other side of the mirror, calm now, smoking a Camel; his face dry now, no more sweat, no more droplets of water, no more tears.
One week ago, you went into Loaded, and faced Pierce Deville. Now, this was a match you wanted. You did this, not nobody else. You could have let it slide, but you saw this as the opening you needed to make yourself look good again. You didn't confront him on the House Show to defend Vanessa, you walked out into that converted factory of an arena with the sole intention of getting Pierce into a match with you.
That's not true.
It half is. And what, in your quest to recapture the greatness you once held, happened?
Answer me.
Come on man, say it.
The man in the mirror tipped the ashes of his cigarette on the sink before dipping his head against the mirror; the man looking right back at Wayne. Wayne looked at him, more drops dripping now down his face.
That ain't water, and I reckon its something else.
I LOST!
Wayne yelled back.
If anything,
trying to compose himself.
I hold pride in knowing that I've hurt him.
Bullcrap.
Even though you've said and and promised it to yourself, you know that ain't true. If you could beat Pierce two and a half minutes in with nothing but a roll up, you would.
No.
You've done it before, and you can damn well do it again if you ever saw the chance.
Perhaps, but I'd still want to hurt him.
Then why wrestle, Wayne? Are you in it to win or are you in it to hurt others?
That's not what it's all about.
What is it all about? Why fight, when you could do something else?
I don't know anything else, this is all I know. I reap what benefits I can take, and I live through all the consequences.
The man in the mirror stopped talking and began to once again follow Wayne's every movements; his face wet again.
Wayne turned away from the mirror and opened the door to find Vanessa leaning against the the door.
Hey.
Wayne came into Vanessa, as she in turn wrapped her arms around him. Wayne held her tight, as he dropped his head against her bare shoulder. Vanessa closed her eyes, as she ran her hand over his scalp. Her fingers stopped above the bump.
Was that the scream?
Yeah.
Groaning tiredly.
*
I've done nothing, but yet every single time I find myself at a loss, I adorn myself with a crown of thorns in shame. It is my very nature as a human being to rise to greatness and in the past year, I have found myself straying away for everything I had fought so hard to earn. All the pain, and all the suffering I had lived through no more than two years ago means absolutely nothing at all today, except maybe to me.
This is not about losing my family anymore, no. It's about being the best again. I've put aside my quest for greatness for the better of my wife and my daughter, and I hold a lot of pride in that. So now that I don't have to worry about a damn thing, I can concentrate on rising back to being the best in the world.
I've looked back in the year past, and I've forgiven myself for all the wasted moments where I did nothing but emotionally torment myself. I focused in nothing else but hurting myself day after day, when I didn't get the job done. I focused in on the pain that ran through body, mind, and soul, because it was all I wanted to crawl to. As far as I was concerned, I didn't deserve respect, or even love. I was living on what was needed to be done. There was no such thing as ware; it was for the weak.
I didn't stop to take a break when I needed it, night in and night out I did what I had to do. Whether it was having my body scarred and broken by Obo, or living though the nightmare of being dropped on my back by ThaCBT, because I just couldn't go on any longer. I did what was told of me, and I tried my life to hold on to the only thing I had it took people to notice me until I just gave up. Outside of the few I cherish, no one has ever cared about my pain. Sometimes, I even had to hurt myself to see if I still hurt, because it came to a point where I couldn't feel a damn thing.
So on Loaded, comes the resolution to return to my former glory. And by doing that I face EBR, a legend and former World Heavyweight Champion. I'm not facing you on account of Thunder, I'm facing you on account of you being you. I've thought about this match for a long time, as I'm sure you have too. I want to experience greatness , I want to know what Kurt's lived though and what faces Thunder come SuperBrawl. But more importantly, I want to do what it is I do best in this world, and I want to do it against no else but EBR. There will be another time and another place for Pierce Deville, but that's neither here or now, and the only thing that will matter in that fleeting moment when the referee calls for the bell and there's nowhere else to live though but then, will the first single altercation between two great fighters.
I don't care what you do to me, because I've seen the bottom of the core and I all I see is what's above me.
Wayne opened his eyes, he was away from his zone now. Wayne opened his eyes into the darkness of the Tijuana skyline; a small crowd, some candles, and glass of fine tequila now nothing but a vast sea of low buildings, maybe six-seven stories at the most, and rows of electrical lines all tangled up in a fucking mesh. Wayne held a guitar against his chest, as he reached over for a quick sip off the bottle of Cuervo he left against the ledge of the balcony; a lit cigarette burning away beside it.
Tipping the edge of the stool he sat off the ground, Wayne leaned against the pale stucco walls.
Hey.
Wayne turned to her.
Hey... I hope you didn't wake you.
Vanessa stood along the middle of what separated their apartment with the balcony. Vanessa leaned against the sliding door; red locks tied above her head, one foot tucked behind another. She wore nothing but one of Wayne's shirts, sleeves rolled and nothing beneath.
You didn't, I just could not sleep.
Vanessa walked into the balcony; her bare feet moving over the plain concrete floor. Wayne drew his now uncrossed legs away from the ledge, as Vanessa slowly lowered herself a seat against the ledge.
May I?
Pointing to the cigarette.
Go ahead.
Vanessa took the cigarette from the ashtray and brought it to her lips.
So, what's keeping you up?
Nothing really. I'm just awake, there's really nothing much else to it.
Wayne sent her a wink.
Sing me something.
Sure babe, what do you want to hear?
I can only conjure a thousand things.
How about “More Than Words”?
I didn't know you knew that one.
It's the only song I can sing in tune.
Wayne began stumming the guitar.
Hey Vanessa,
Yeah.
Why did you come live here with me?
I follow where you lead.
But I chose Tijuana, Mexico. You could have told me and we could have went anywhere else.
But this is what you wanted.
It was what I wanted.
What do you want then?
To hear where it is you want to go to, anywhere on this world. You deserves better than this, Scarlet deserves better than this, and I think I do too.
Let's go back... Futher back.
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