Post by Tristan Ambrose on Mar 27, 2016 22:59:09 GMT -6
Rewind...
Play.....
The dark apartment was illuminated as a drunk Tristan Ambrose sat in a leather chair, his eyes glued to the television. Beer bottles littered the floor around him, a ripped open, now empty box, was also on the floor next to him, as he sat in his chair and watched the ending to his match with Stacy Jones.. He tried to find happiness in that they had a great match, but all he found was anger. That was all he could feel right now. He had been beaten straight up now.. One on one, he had been beat by Stacy Jones.
Don't get him wrong, she was a gifted athlete... but he didn't exactly like the idea of being the first person in a long line of people that didn't beat her. He planned on riding a wave of momentum into the pay per view, but Stacy pulled a new trick out of the bag, and it got her the victory that she desperately needed...
That didn't stop Ambrose from watching the finish over... and over... and over... Right now he was in a drunken state, the world spinning around him, as he wondered if he could still do this anymore. Sure he could put on great matches, and it was still early into his VOW career, but it wasn’t starting like he planned it.
Three days had passed since Breakthrough, and since his loss, it all starting coming to him. The regret, anger, envy, and even some slight sadness, to top it off, last night the final card for Nothing Else Matters came out, yeah that didn’t help his mood at all.
The pre-show... Not even on the main show, nope. His loss to Stacy had relegated him to the free pre-show, which means pay dock, less of an impact if he wins, all of that goodness. Less money, less exposure, It’s a cycle that repeats till you're eventually fired. That was just the business that they were in.
Tristan watched Stacy her “Time’s Arrow” once again when a faint buzzing broke his concentration... He slowly lifted up and the brightness of the screen assaulted his eyes as he tried to blink the blurriness away. Swiping the green icon, he tapped the speaker icon..
“Hello?”
“There’s my guy, how you holding up?”
“Do I know you?”
“Right right.. It’s me, Ethan Campos, look, I’m just calling to say that was a fantastic match a few days ago. Everyone here was very impressed, now we would have liked a fucking win, but shit... ya can’t win them all.”
“Right...”
“So look, there is this radio station over here in Windsor that wants you for a spot before Nothing Else Matters and I told him you would love to do it. It’s the day of the event and it isn’t that far from the arena, so I just figured I’d let you know. I’ll text you the details and everything in the morning.”
“Yea....”
“You seem tired my friend, get some sleep.”
Tristan was damn near asleep on the chair now, the buzz clearly overtaking him. He mumbled a positive reply before his phone slowly slipped from his hand as it slid down his chest, no long able to contain it, as he started falling asleep he tried to get back over to the couch, but he was to drunk to even wanna attempt to move. Whatever, It isn’t like he’d never slept in a chair before...
He had finally managed to fall asleep in the chair... as uncomfortable as it was. A loud boom ended that however as Tristan opening his eyes almost on instinct, He looked around, He knew this room, but how? He wasn’t even in his apartment anymore, He was in his childhood room, looking around for around for his phone... He noticed that his hands were much smaller, childlike. He slowly got to his feet, looking down to see that he was indeed his childhood self. He was kinda happy, he wondered if the crazy life he lived was all just a dream, and that he belonged to a happy, loving family. To bad that is when another kick shatters part of the door, as a hand reached in and unlocked it..
In walked Tyrone... Who was a “friend of Tristan’s mom” as he held out a small bottle and a syringe. He took Tristan’s arm and filled the syringe full of whatever the fuck he had made in Tristan’s kitchen, making the young child his personal lab rat, seeing how well his new brand would do.
"What-"
"What up little man, come here, I got some new shit for ya."
“No STOP, MOM!”
To be honest, he truly didn’t even know why he was screaming.. It was going to happen regardless if his mom or even if his dad came in the room, no one could save him, no one attempted to. Feeling the sting as it punctured his skin, and the fluid enter his veins, Tyrone dropped him onto the wooden floor... Then he left saying he had to get paid, Tristan tried to suck the whatever was injected out, but to no avail.
"I can’t wait till the day where I don’t have to put up with this bull-"
WHAM!!
Instantly, Tristan felt his nose shatter as Tyrone punched him dead in the face as hard as he could, before he looked down and laughed.
"Guess you’ll learn to watch your fucking mouth...”
Tyrone walking out of the room as if he just won some big fight, like some fucking hotshot. Tristan felt it kicking in, and ended up just let it happen as he laid on his now bloody hardwood floor......
He could just feel himself shaking....
Tristan blinked once more, only when he opened them, he was back home, his normal self...
"What the fuck is wrong with you, WAKE THE FUCK UP!"
Tristan quickly reacted, punching the figure that yelled at him in face. The figure fell over in pain, clutching their face. By now Tristan was up and on his feet, as he took a drunken stance. Blinking a few times, he gain a decent amount of his vision, enough to see who laid on the floor..
“Ah shit....”
On the ground crying was the mother who I had taken in last week.. It was cheaper to have them here than paying for a hotel every night.... Still that didn’t change the fact that he’d just clocked her jaw...
"Fuck, are......"
"I’m fine..."
Tristan made his way over and helped her up, taking a look at the damage he caused, squinting his eyes a but, he saw that it was just a grazing drunken punch, barely hit her... But it still made him hate himself...
His code is to NEVER hit a woman outside of a contested match, and now he was here two inches from knocking this innocent woman out cause he couldn’t deal with his shit. Slowly Slowly he let his hands down, rubbing his forehead he could feel the slick sweat on his hands.. He gave an apologetic look, he made his way to the bathroom, quickly striping the previous day’s clothes and turning the shower on, letting the water warm up.
"Hey.... you alright?"
He heard come from outside the room. It was her.. He shook it off and got into the shower, letting the warm water invade his thoughts...
"Yea, I’ll be fine man, just... Just give me a bit.“
Then it hit him, That anger, all of the negative thoughts that were going to through his head, finishing the shower, he kinda shrugged,before redressing in the same pair of boxers and pants. Coming out, he doesn’t say a word, as he sees her eye is slightly bruised from where he had punched her earlier.
He did that, He couldn’t get his shit together, and he used a little bit of that anger and took it out on an innocent person.
"You um, you feeling alright?”
"You fucking punched me in the face"
Running a hand across his beard, knowing that she wasn’t happy about the punch, it made him even more angry with himself...
"I’m going to have a fucking black eye because you can’t control your shit!”
“You don't-”
“No, No you don’t, your a fucking mess, someone without goals or a fucking plan at least. You are so caught up on the past you can’t tell the difference anymore!”
Tristan didn’t know what to say, his mind was completely off, He couldn’t think of anything, she was right and it rendered him speechless... He didn’t know what to do to make it better, so he just sat there and took it.
“You need to get your shit together... look.. You don’t know how grateful I am that you took us in... at least for now. I’m not a great woman, nor a great mother obviously but please.. You need to figure out what is wrong with you.”
“You wouldn’t..”
He stiffen a bit, She would know what he meant, the nightmares or whatever, memories of his youth, what he went through to support his parents through their troubles, fooling himself that everything was going to be fine and that the monsters weren't going to kick in the bedroom door and beat him, or force him to take one of their newest concoctions that they cooked up. He can’t recall the times that he was forced into a high, hell sometimes he didn’t remember what they shot him up with, always coming up with some excuse that it would dull the pain or make him feel better. Did it work, well sure, but at that young of an age, It was really easy to become addicted to that shit.
The quiet continues to overtake the room, making this situation all the more awkward, all that more real. He started thinking about telling her about his past, why he chose to get involved in this instead of just walking away like he should of. He decided against it.. He didn’t even know her name...
“What’s your name, I haven’t asked for it....”
“Ryley Greene, and my daughter’s name is Eva.”
"Well.. you should head to sleep Ryley, we are going to heading into Canada.."
“What?"
"Sorry, but it costs way too much to have put you in a hotel, and I don’t know enough about you to trust you.. So you and Eva are gonna come with me.”
"Well... I wasn’t expecting that..."
"Don’t read into it too much.."
"Alright.. I’m gonna head back to bed.. Don’t drink any fucking more alright?"
Surprisingly, Everyone took a well. Eva and Ryley were both great people, and little Eva had an adorable smile. Both of them were great companions, Everyone settled in and Tristan got them backstage passes for tonight’s pay per view before he headed off for the interview with Mike at K-Rock 102.3.
Eva surprised him before he headed out, giving him a hug, he returned it, but... It was odd, he wasn’t used to all of this. God, what the hell was he doing.... Driving to the radio show, he snagged a coffee. Walking into the building, he was shocked to find Alexander.
“Buddy! How ya doing Trist? Told you I wouldn’t miss a match, and I meant it.”
“Alex, hey man, you didn’t say you landed from Chicago yet.”
“Well we were going to meet here so, I figured.”
In walked Craig Venn, The radio host, walked in along with Mike and Natalia, who were his co-hosts.
“Morning gentleman! Shall we begin?”
“Good morning, yeah, let’s get to it.”
Alexander snuck a handshake in as they all sat in their chairs, the “On Air” sign turned on as Craig started to speak, as the song that was playing fades.
“Welcome back, and good morning. Now over the years, Canada has been known for producing great pro wrestlers, along with some great wrestling events in general, well tonight, VOW has crossed the borders and is holding their pay per view event, Nothing else Matters. At that event tonight, my guest this morning is taking on Patrick Jones, Let’s welcome to the show, Tristan Ambrose, alongside his manager, Alexander, welcome guys.”
“Good morning.”
“So first things first, how was the travel getting over here, cause I know reports came out that you had left Canada after Breakthrough last week, which is your main show in VOW”
“Well I mean, Windsor is nice, but I’ve lived in Seattle all my life, and if the schedule is allowing my to go home and rest every week... I’d rather sleep in my bed than a hotel you know what I mean?”
“No I can understand that, Wrestling isn’t a easy thing to do, and it does take a ton out of you I’d imagine. So, tonight you're facing Patrick Jones, very well known star, are you driven to deliver a stellar performance?”
“Well, yes and no... See on Breakthrough I fight my hardest, look at my match with Stacy Jones, great match, look at the match with two of Canada’s own in Kincaid and English, But here’s the thing, something clicks in our brains for pay per views, since they aren’t every month in a way, they mean more, so we go out there and goes balls to the walls, cause we also know we got some rest time before the next show.”
“So you push the dial to eleven so to say, Does that affect your longevity in VOW, not wrestling so much?”
“Yeah, yeah in a way it does. But I know PJ, and I know what he does, and trust me, I’ve wanted this match for a while, You know we never fought in NEW, and we ya know, just never crossed paths.”
“So, being on the pre-show doesn’t bother you?”
“Well it kinda does, but you know everyone has to start somewhere, and if it’s defeating PJ in the main event of the pre-show, then I’ll go put on a solid match and maybe people in the back will go, Oh well maybe he should be on the main show, you can’t get negative in this line of work, you just gotta keep pushing, or you fall out and get left behind.”
“Question for Alex, being with Tristan so long now, it seems like the start of his career, give or take a few months, What do you see as his strong suit?”
“It’s funny because if you would have asked me this a year ago I would have said his heart, but lately, his technical game has improved so much, I mean he used to do Deathmatchs and blood, barbed wire, glass, anything you can think of.. And now he is just as good in the technical game as he is in the hardcore game, and I think overtime, he will win everyone over with his newfound skills.”
“We’re almost out of time, but I wanna ask you Tristan, anything you can give us for your match tonight, any ideas? Any words for Patrick Jones?”
“Well... I mean I know he’s ready, he just needs to know, so am I. I’m not the kind of person to let you push me down, I’ll come back and I’ll start push you down, and eventually I’m gonna knock down Patrick, and just a good majority of his matches, I’m gonna beat him. He’s good, but I’m not losing this.. I need this victory PJ, like I’m sure you’ve told plenty of people, there is always next show.”
“Well that does it for Tristan Ambrose, catch Nothing Else Matters live on Pay Per View tonight, now if your going to the show, bell time is 5 PM, and you can catch it on your local pay per view providers, guys it’s been a pleasure.”
Play.....
The dark apartment was illuminated as a drunk Tristan Ambrose sat in a leather chair, his eyes glued to the television. Beer bottles littered the floor around him, a ripped open, now empty box, was also on the floor next to him, as he sat in his chair and watched the ending to his match with Stacy Jones.. He tried to find happiness in that they had a great match, but all he found was anger. That was all he could feel right now. He had been beaten straight up now.. One on one, he had been beat by Stacy Jones.
Don't get him wrong, she was a gifted athlete... but he didn't exactly like the idea of being the first person in a long line of people that didn't beat her. He planned on riding a wave of momentum into the pay per view, but Stacy pulled a new trick out of the bag, and it got her the victory that she desperately needed...
That didn't stop Ambrose from watching the finish over... and over... and over... Right now he was in a drunken state, the world spinning around him, as he wondered if he could still do this anymore. Sure he could put on great matches, and it was still early into his VOW career, but it wasn’t starting like he planned it.
Three days had passed since Breakthrough, and since his loss, it all starting coming to him. The regret, anger, envy, and even some slight sadness, to top it off, last night the final card for Nothing Else Matters came out, yeah that didn’t help his mood at all.
The pre-show... Not even on the main show, nope. His loss to Stacy had relegated him to the free pre-show, which means pay dock, less of an impact if he wins, all of that goodness. Less money, less exposure, It’s a cycle that repeats till you're eventually fired. That was just the business that they were in.
Tristan watched Stacy her “Time’s Arrow” once again when a faint buzzing broke his concentration... He slowly lifted up and the brightness of the screen assaulted his eyes as he tried to blink the blurriness away. Swiping the green icon, he tapped the speaker icon..
“Hello?”
“There’s my guy, how you holding up?”
“Do I know you?”
“Right right.. It’s me, Ethan Campos, look, I’m just calling to say that was a fantastic match a few days ago. Everyone here was very impressed, now we would have liked a fucking win, but shit... ya can’t win them all.”
“Right...”
“So look, there is this radio station over here in Windsor that wants you for a spot before Nothing Else Matters and I told him you would love to do it. It’s the day of the event and it isn’t that far from the arena, so I just figured I’d let you know. I’ll text you the details and everything in the morning.”
“Yea....”
“You seem tired my friend, get some sleep.”
Tristan was damn near asleep on the chair now, the buzz clearly overtaking him. He mumbled a positive reply before his phone slowly slipped from his hand as it slid down his chest, no long able to contain it, as he started falling asleep he tried to get back over to the couch, but he was to drunk to even wanna attempt to move. Whatever, It isn’t like he’d never slept in a chair before...
He had finally managed to fall asleep in the chair... as uncomfortable as it was. A loud boom ended that however as Tristan opening his eyes almost on instinct, He looked around, He knew this room, but how? He wasn’t even in his apartment anymore, He was in his childhood room, looking around for around for his phone... He noticed that his hands were much smaller, childlike. He slowly got to his feet, looking down to see that he was indeed his childhood self. He was kinda happy, he wondered if the crazy life he lived was all just a dream, and that he belonged to a happy, loving family. To bad that is when another kick shatters part of the door, as a hand reached in and unlocked it..
In walked Tyrone... Who was a “friend of Tristan’s mom” as he held out a small bottle and a syringe. He took Tristan’s arm and filled the syringe full of whatever the fuck he had made in Tristan’s kitchen, making the young child his personal lab rat, seeing how well his new brand would do.
"What-"
"What up little man, come here, I got some new shit for ya."
“No STOP, MOM!”
To be honest, he truly didn’t even know why he was screaming.. It was going to happen regardless if his mom or even if his dad came in the room, no one could save him, no one attempted to. Feeling the sting as it punctured his skin, and the fluid enter his veins, Tyrone dropped him onto the wooden floor... Then he left saying he had to get paid, Tristan tried to suck the whatever was injected out, but to no avail.
"I can’t wait till the day where I don’t have to put up with this bull-"
WHAM!!
Instantly, Tristan felt his nose shatter as Tyrone punched him dead in the face as hard as he could, before he looked down and laughed.
"Guess you’ll learn to watch your fucking mouth...”
Tyrone walking out of the room as if he just won some big fight, like some fucking hotshot. Tristan felt it kicking in, and ended up just let it happen as he laid on his now bloody hardwood floor......
He could just feel himself shaking....
Tristan blinked once more, only when he opened them, he was back home, his normal self...
"What the fuck is wrong with you, WAKE THE FUCK UP!"
Tristan quickly reacted, punching the figure that yelled at him in face. The figure fell over in pain, clutching their face. By now Tristan was up and on his feet, as he took a drunken stance. Blinking a few times, he gain a decent amount of his vision, enough to see who laid on the floor..
“Ah shit....”
On the ground crying was the mother who I had taken in last week.. It was cheaper to have them here than paying for a hotel every night.... Still that didn’t change the fact that he’d just clocked her jaw...
"Fuck, are......"
"I’m fine..."
Tristan made his way over and helped her up, taking a look at the damage he caused, squinting his eyes a but, he saw that it was just a grazing drunken punch, barely hit her... But it still made him hate himself...
His code is to NEVER hit a woman outside of a contested match, and now he was here two inches from knocking this innocent woman out cause he couldn’t deal with his shit. Slowly Slowly he let his hands down, rubbing his forehead he could feel the slick sweat on his hands.. He gave an apologetic look, he made his way to the bathroom, quickly striping the previous day’s clothes and turning the shower on, letting the water warm up.
"Hey.... you alright?"
He heard come from outside the room. It was her.. He shook it off and got into the shower, letting the warm water invade his thoughts...
"Yea, I’ll be fine man, just... Just give me a bit.“
Then it hit him, That anger, all of the negative thoughts that were going to through his head, finishing the shower, he kinda shrugged,before redressing in the same pair of boxers and pants. Coming out, he doesn’t say a word, as he sees her eye is slightly bruised from where he had punched her earlier.
He did that, He couldn’t get his shit together, and he used a little bit of that anger and took it out on an innocent person.
"You um, you feeling alright?”
"You fucking punched me in the face"
Running a hand across his beard, knowing that she wasn’t happy about the punch, it made him even more angry with himself...
"I’m going to have a fucking black eye because you can’t control your shit!”
“You don't-”
“No, No you don’t, your a fucking mess, someone without goals or a fucking plan at least. You are so caught up on the past you can’t tell the difference anymore!”
Tristan didn’t know what to say, his mind was completely off, He couldn’t think of anything, she was right and it rendered him speechless... He didn’t know what to do to make it better, so he just sat there and took it.
“You need to get your shit together... look.. You don’t know how grateful I am that you took us in... at least for now. I’m not a great woman, nor a great mother obviously but please.. You need to figure out what is wrong with you.”
“You wouldn’t..”
He stiffen a bit, She would know what he meant, the nightmares or whatever, memories of his youth, what he went through to support his parents through their troubles, fooling himself that everything was going to be fine and that the monsters weren't going to kick in the bedroom door and beat him, or force him to take one of their newest concoctions that they cooked up. He can’t recall the times that he was forced into a high, hell sometimes he didn’t remember what they shot him up with, always coming up with some excuse that it would dull the pain or make him feel better. Did it work, well sure, but at that young of an age, It was really easy to become addicted to that shit.
The quiet continues to overtake the room, making this situation all the more awkward, all that more real. He started thinking about telling her about his past, why he chose to get involved in this instead of just walking away like he should of. He decided against it.. He didn’t even know her name...
“What’s your name, I haven’t asked for it....”
“Ryley Greene, and my daughter’s name is Eva.”
"Well.. you should head to sleep Ryley, we are going to heading into Canada.."
“What?"
"Sorry, but it costs way too much to have put you in a hotel, and I don’t know enough about you to trust you.. So you and Eva are gonna come with me.”
"Well... I wasn’t expecting that..."
"Don’t read into it too much.."
"Alright.. I’m gonna head back to bed.. Don’t drink any fucking more alright?"
---
Day of Nothing Else Matters 2016
Windsor, Onterio
6:45 AM
---
Surprisingly, Everyone took a well. Eva and Ryley were both great people, and little Eva had an adorable smile. Both of them were great companions, Everyone settled in and Tristan got them backstage passes for tonight’s pay per view before he headed off for the interview with Mike at K-Rock 102.3.
Eva surprised him before he headed out, giving him a hug, he returned it, but... It was odd, he wasn’t used to all of this. God, what the hell was he doing.... Driving to the radio show, he snagged a coffee. Walking into the building, he was shocked to find Alexander.
“Buddy! How ya doing Trist? Told you I wouldn’t miss a match, and I meant it.”
“Alex, hey man, you didn’t say you landed from Chicago yet.”
“Well we were going to meet here so, I figured.”
In walked Craig Venn, The radio host, walked in along with Mike and Natalia, who were his co-hosts.
“Morning gentleman! Shall we begin?”
“Good morning, yeah, let’s get to it.”
Alexander snuck a handshake in as they all sat in their chairs, the “On Air” sign turned on as Craig started to speak, as the song that was playing fades.
“Welcome back, and good morning. Now over the years, Canada has been known for producing great pro wrestlers, along with some great wrestling events in general, well tonight, VOW has crossed the borders and is holding their pay per view event, Nothing else Matters. At that event tonight, my guest this morning is taking on Patrick Jones, Let’s welcome to the show, Tristan Ambrose, alongside his manager, Alexander, welcome guys.”
“Good morning.”
“So first things first, how was the travel getting over here, cause I know reports came out that you had left Canada after Breakthrough last week, which is your main show in VOW”
“Well I mean, Windsor is nice, but I’ve lived in Seattle all my life, and if the schedule is allowing my to go home and rest every week... I’d rather sleep in my bed than a hotel you know what I mean?”
“No I can understand that, Wrestling isn’t a easy thing to do, and it does take a ton out of you I’d imagine. So, tonight you're facing Patrick Jones, very well known star, are you driven to deliver a stellar performance?”
“Well, yes and no... See on Breakthrough I fight my hardest, look at my match with Stacy Jones, great match, look at the match with two of Canada’s own in Kincaid and English, But here’s the thing, something clicks in our brains for pay per views, since they aren’t every month in a way, they mean more, so we go out there and goes balls to the walls, cause we also know we got some rest time before the next show.”
“So you push the dial to eleven so to say, Does that affect your longevity in VOW, not wrestling so much?”
“Yeah, yeah in a way it does. But I know PJ, and I know what he does, and trust me, I’ve wanted this match for a while, You know we never fought in NEW, and we ya know, just never crossed paths.”
“So, being on the pre-show doesn’t bother you?”
“Well it kinda does, but you know everyone has to start somewhere, and if it’s defeating PJ in the main event of the pre-show, then I’ll go put on a solid match and maybe people in the back will go, Oh well maybe he should be on the main show, you can’t get negative in this line of work, you just gotta keep pushing, or you fall out and get left behind.”
“Question for Alex, being with Tristan so long now, it seems like the start of his career, give or take a few months, What do you see as his strong suit?”
“It’s funny because if you would have asked me this a year ago I would have said his heart, but lately, his technical game has improved so much, I mean he used to do Deathmatchs and blood, barbed wire, glass, anything you can think of.. And now he is just as good in the technical game as he is in the hardcore game, and I think overtime, he will win everyone over with his newfound skills.”
“We’re almost out of time, but I wanna ask you Tristan, anything you can give us for your match tonight, any ideas? Any words for Patrick Jones?”
“Well... I mean I know he’s ready, he just needs to know, so am I. I’m not the kind of person to let you push me down, I’ll come back and I’ll start push you down, and eventually I’m gonna knock down Patrick, and just a good majority of his matches, I’m gonna beat him. He’s good, but I’m not losing this.. I need this victory PJ, like I’m sure you’ve told plenty of people, there is always next show.”
“Well that does it for Tristan Ambrose, catch Nothing Else Matters live on Pay Per View tonight, now if your going to the show, bell time is 5 PM, and you can catch it on your local pay per view providers, guys it’s been a pleasure.”
~~~
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