Post by Damon Graves on May 21, 2017 15:45:52 GMT -5
St. Paul Hotel
Montreal, Quebec, Canada
Saturday Night
Scene fades in on a king-sized bed, surrounded on three sides by sheer, white curtains. We find one half of the Redemption Tag Team Champions, Damon Graves, lounging on the bed in a pair of faded grey jeans, flipping through the channels on the TV as he leans back against the headboard. In the background, the shower is running, and the faint sound of a woman humming “Sweet Child O’ Mine” can be heard.
The water shuts off, prompting Damon to glance momentarily in the direction of the bathroom door, a bit of a grin on his face. After a few moments, the door opens, and his wife and tag team partner Aurora steps out, clad in a thick white bathrobe, her wet hair covered with a matching white towel. She grips the towel around her hair, giving it a healthy squeeze before removing it from her head, letting the now-damp strands fall against her shoulders.
Aurora: Anything good on?
Damon shakes his head, frowning a little.
Damon: Not a damn thing. What’s the charge on the laptop looking like?
Aurora: It should be fully charged. It’s been plugged in since last night.
Damon: Good... feel like watching a movie with me? I’ll let you pick it out.
Aurora: “Let me”? First off, that’s MY laptop. Second of all, I was kinda hoping we could go out and grab some dinner. Or have you forgotten what tomorrow is?
Damon purses his lips as he arches his eyebrows, casting his eyes toward the ceiling in mock contemplation. His wife stands by the side of the bed, her arms crossed as she shoots daggers at him.
Aurora: Damon Marius Graves....
He keeps up the expression for a few seconds more, before finally bursting into laughter.
Damon: Come on, Harley... you know me better than that...
Aurora: Alright then, Mr. Smartypants... what happens tomorrow?
Damon: Let’s see... tomorrow... that’s when the new coupons come out, right?
Aurora lets out an indignant gasp as she smacks him in the shoulder.
Aurora: Seriously? Oh fucking hell....
As Aurora throws up her arms and turns away from the bed, Damon gets up and walks after her. He wraps his arms around her waist. She struggles in a half-hearted attempt to break free from his grasp, but the smirk on her face gives her away.
Damon: Oh, Harley... I’m kidding! I know exactly what happened... It was one year ago that I got pulled out of the ring by that fat bastard, Khonda, in that battle royale.
Aurora: Damon...
Damon: And later, I spent an incredible evening with an amazing woman, and I haven’t left that woman’s side since.
Aurora tilts her head to the side as her husband rests his chin on her shoulder.
Damon: Did you honestly think I would forget one of the most life-changing nights of my life?
Aurora rests her arms over Damon’s, settling into his embrace as she smiles.
Aurora: I wonder about you sometimes... but I knew you’d remember.
Damon: Took a bit longer than I had hoped for you to warm up to me...
Aurora: Well, you DID help me move into that condo... and the way you handled it when you ended up crashing on my couch, only to have Alicia call me in the morning wondering where the hell you were....
Damon: I think she was hoping for more to have happened that night....
Aurora: Well, apart from killing an extra-large pepperoni pizza...
Damon: And I distinctly remember your hand going for my crotch...
Aurora: Hey! You know damn well that was an accident! Besides, you were sitting on my phone!
Damon starts to laugh, leaning forward, nearly causing Aurora to lose her balance. Aurora eventually joins him, and the pair nearly fall against a nearby table, halted only by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.
Damon: Look at us... still falling all over each other like a couple of high school kids...
Aurora lets out a wistful sigh as she gazes up at the ceiling.
Aurora: You know what? That’s about the only regret that I have...
Damon: What’s that?
Aurora: I wish I had met you in high school... maybe things would’ve turned out differently for me.
Damon: Harley...
He releases his grip, turning her around to face him. Lifting her chin with his finger, he stares into her eyes.
Damon: The past is just that... the past. We have each other, and dare I say we have our own little legacy that we’ve carved...
Aurora: You know what? You’re right. Everything we’ve ever done in our lives has brought us to where we are now, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that I wouldn’t change a thing....
Damon: That’s my girl... Now put on something that’ll make every guy in the club want to kill me; I’m taking my lady out!
Aurora: You do realize this means you’re going to have to put a shirt on. Don’t need all the women drooling...
Damon: Hey, I’m supposed to worry about guys drooling over YOU, not the other way around!
Aurora laughs as she heads for the closet, leaving Damon standing with his hands on his hips and shaking his head.
Scene fades out.
Streets of Montreal
Sunday Morning
Scene fades in with a long distance shot of the streets of Montreal. The ground is wet from some earlier rainfall, and in the distance, we can see Damon Graves on an early morning run. He stops just short of the camera's position as lets himself wind down a bit before speaking.
Damon: Alechs, there's a word that pops up quite a bit in a young wrestler’s career, and that word is “potential”. It's a bit of a double edged sword, because it almost never affects anyone in quite the same way as someone else. For some people, it motivates them to try that much harder. For others, it's a huge fucking albatross around their necks, threatening to drag them down to obscurity before that so-called “potential” is ever even realized.
Me? I've learned to ignore it, because too many times when I was just starting out, promoters kept using that word as a means of exploiting rookies without giving them their due. Translation from bullshit to English: I can use you, but you still have a long way to go before you see any payoff for all of your effort.
He pauses long enough to pull a short towel from around his neck to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Damon: I know what you’re thinking… you probably think that I'm being just a touch hypocritical by saying all of this, but to be brutally honest, out of anyone in this world whose opinion I value, yours is pretty far down the list, Aurelio. If that hurts your feelings, then you have a lot further to go than I originally thought.
But if it's any consolation, I'll give you this much…. It's admirable that you're playing cheerleader for the Young Cubs. Sometimes enthusiasm can take you pretty far, but in this case, not far enough.
The faint scent of coffee from a nearby cafe catches Damon’s attention. He takes a moment to breathe in the heady aroma. He groans a little, shaking his head before he continues onward.
Damon: You simply think that by process of elimination that the Young Cubs get the next shot at our titles. I mean, look at all of the teams ahead of you on the roster. Chaos Love: Daisy is out on maternity leave. Radicalliance: Ronnie North is out with a “back injury”. Yeah… whatever. Burlesque Duplicity: Joseph Setala got shit-canned because his partner lipped off to the wrong person. The Pride: Avery Miles III decided to do what he thinks is best for his family and focus on himself. Kinda puts things into perspective, doesn’t it, Alechs? Normally, it doesn't work that way. We don't hand out title shots like they were participation awards. No, you have to earn them. But Devlin Scott, in the interest of “giving everyone their fair shot”, has already announced that you’ll get your shot at the Redemption Wrestling Tag Team Championship at Wrestleforce.
Word of advice… don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back. You still have to get through me, Alechs, and I’m sure as fuck ain’t gonna make it easy for you. Both of us have a point to make with this match… you want the world to see that you aren’t the worthless shitstain that Honey has taken pity on, and I want to prove…. That the world was right about you.
Don’t take any of this personally, Alechs. It’s not that I hate you, but if you want to step up to my level, the Rebel Ink level, you have to be willing to take everything that comes with that decision: the verbal jousting, the physical beating, and the realization that success is a longshot at best. If you’re willing to go through all of that, then step on up. But don’t be surprised when it finally sinks in that you’re out of your depth, out of luck, and out of your fucking mind...
Scene ends as Damon takes the towel in his hand and tosses it at the camera, letting it drape over the lens, obscuring the view.
