Renaissance Man: Take Back Tomorrow

One!

No...

Two!

D-dammit, get up!

Three!!!

… Damn.

Ding, ding ding!

“The winner of this match… KINCAID!!”

Unlike his last two encounters, the crowd was a little more energetic with their praise of the match. Whether it was to Soloke or Kincaid didn’t matter. After the Red River Crossing hit, the match was over for our so-called hero.

Maxwell started to regain his bearings in the middle of the ring just in time to look up at Kincaid. The giant of a man looked back down at him and gave a respectful nod. After the fact, he escorted his wife from the ringside area to the back. Max, on the other hand, took a moment to fully catch his breath from that match before looking up and around at those in attendance cheering.

And for once… he smiled. The loss didn’t rock him as hard this time around. A one-on-one encounter… and he at least lost fair and square. No stolen pinfall. No outside interference.

He lost. And for once, he left to the back with a smile and his chin held high. He hit the showers instantly to go over his thoughts per usual.

Good job, Kincaid. I’m glad you found your momentum back in VOW again. At my expense but… c’est la vie, you deserved your victory. No funny business or even outside interference or distraction from your wife. You won. Good job. I hope you move onto better things…

… because I’m still clawing for scraps right now.

Heatstroke is coming up and I’m still without a return win or plans.

Looks like we’re going back to the pre-show.

But… maybe that’s okay. I wasn’t anything too big when I was here last time. Some of the greatest champions start off as jobbers!

… Yeah, funny. A four year veteran and former multi-time mid-card championship holder. A jobber.

Hah. Aha… Ahaha…

“Ha… Ahaha!” The man’s mental laughter turned into real-life delight; much to the possible disturbance of the other wrestlers who were using the facilities at the moment. But Max didn’t care. Not today. “Jobber, my ass. There’s no way in Hell that I’m going down that route! Bring on Breakthrough 48! I’ll take on anyone! Literally anyone, VOW! YOU HEAR ME?! LETS. GO!”


Your Breakthrough 48 Opponent will be Joanna Thade. It is a Qualifying Match for the Quest for the Case match at Heatstroke 2016. Best of luck.

- Management.

“... Okay, I wasn’t exactly SERIOUS about throwing anyone at me.” Max stated plainly towards his phone at the announcement. “But you know what. I’ll take it! Today is the start… of something great.” After the fact, he looked forward towards the webcam on his laptop.

At the present time, Max was streaming himself. He didn’t have any plans today. He’d already gone to the gym to work out. He’d already had a meal to sate his hunger until dinner.

“I’ve decided that from this day forth, in terms of VOW, I’m going to do one stream after every event if I can help it. Get more in touch with you guys. Answer some questions. Play some games. Keep you all entertained both in the ring AND out of the ring! Sound fair?” He said gladly to the camera. The chat on stream blew up from the couple hundred people who were instantly notified. Steadily, more and more people joined. “So! Bring on some questions while I get everything set up.”

As Max started to fidget around with the controls on the stream for a moment, questions popped up. He managed to glance over a couple before repeating them and answering them.

“‘What are you going to be playing, Overwatch?’ Nah, I’m above that game. I’m bringing you some high-class gaming! Are you ready? … I’m going to be playing League of Legends!”

As Max’s enthusiasm rose, viewers decreased.

“Well, then. Uh… ‘what are your plans going forward? Three losses doesn’t look good for your record right now.’ Well… about that. I have literally no idea where I’m going at this point. I’m still… kind of grasping at straws in this federation as we speak. But, I must have grabbed the right one. My next opponent is Joanna Thade and it’s going to be for a shot at the Quest for the Case match at Heatstroke! Now, they probably only put me in that match as fodder for Joanna, but who knows! Will I get the upset? Probably not.”

The screen flickered for a moment. Instead of his face just being on the stream, his desktop now showed. A lot of mixed-matched documents and folders were in the background with the game in question in front, taking up most of the screen.

“I’ll… fix that later. And no, I’m not going to show you what’s in that ‘Personal Folder.’ You can just go on and guess… Okay, it’s definitely not that, though, you perverts. … Next question! ‘When are you going to retire?’”

Max went silent for a moment with a bit of shock.

“Not for a while. Next question… ‘Why aren’t you good anymore?’ … Well… let’s be real, was I ever good in the first place? Next… question…”

Maybe it was trolls. Maybe it was honest people. But the negative questions started to pop up more and more…

“Why don’t you ever change it up?”

“What happened to what you used to be?”

“You’re getting boring…”

“Four years in the business without any flare or real gimmicks, how do you expect to keep fans?”

He was getting more and more flustered by the questions. He bowed his head for a moment as his body began to tremble. The trolls on stream only kept the fire going.

“He’s going to cry.”

“Breakdown incoming!”

“About as sad as he looked every time he lost to Datura.”

The trembling started to grow a bit more aggressive… before finally, both fists slam down hard on the desk.

“Enough! Okay, yes, fine. I’m not as good as I used to be. Can you blame me? I’ve been on the longest hiatus from Visionaries of Wrestling. I’m not used to the atmosphere as I have been with other places. Alright? I get it.

“But a gimmick is what’s going to get you guys? You really want CHANGE? Then how’s about this. After every event, I’m going to find something to do to please you guys. And I’m going to do it well. Hell, I’m going to start it with this event even. You want a gimmick out of me? Then here you go. Say hello to the goddamn Renaissance Man. I’m going to do everything, inside AND outside of that ring. And you know what?

“I’m going to do it a whole lot better than you.”

STREAM OFFLINE.


One day from Breakthrough 48 and I still don’t have a damn thing to do… God, I’m going to be even more of a laughing stock than I already am.

Those thoughts passed through Max’s mind as he walked along the streets of Toledo, Ohio. Once again, he was without whim or plan. It’s not like he had many, or Hell, any friends to keep him company within the federation, and with how fucked up the world can be now-a-days, trusting any random stranger claiming to be his ‘friend’ could put him into a gutter.

He kept himself in a loner’s outfit to keep himself out of notice of people. Rugged jeans, band shirt, and a snap-back hat with an old SNES controller design on the front of it. To top it all off, he kept his gaze down straight at his phone, looking for a place to entertain himself for the day. People paid the wrestler no attention as if he blended in. Which is shocking.

You’d think a wrestler would embrace being back in his home state.

But, no. He acted like any other young adult on the Pokemon GO hype train and walked along.

In a nice suburban area, Max found his nice and quiet spot in the form of a small diner. Ideal Hot Dog. It didn’t take very long for the young man to get seated with a menu.

“While you look over the menu, could I get you anything to drink?”

“Could I have a hot chocolate, please?”

“In the middle of the summer?” The waitress retorted almost instantly to the childish request. Max sulked back in his booth with a murmur. The waitress left him alone from there.

He already decided to get the Chili Mac, a signature of the diner. It sounded nice enough. Spaghetti topped with cheddar cheese and a heaping of chili. When the waitress brought over his drink, he politely, but quickly, gave out his order. Having some free time to himself, he decided to finally look into his opponent…

Joanna Thade…

The first thing that popped up for Soloke upon searching her name… was a posted journal entry. Addressed to him, even. How sweet.

“… a nobody from nowhere… I don’t have singles matches… don’t show up to Breakthrough… Zahara and Datura… warning… hide… track record is less than shit… all talk… little substance… get carted out… how broken I leave you… will use your body as paper… this won’t be a match…

… No hard feelings… let’s dance, Maxie….”

Well, then. Aren’t you nice… as… nice as a sociopath can be, anyway. But… I’m not going to take that quietly, you should know that well by now.

The waitress set down Max’s crude-like meal and the receipt. He tore into it quickly with Joanna still fresh in his mind. After chugging down the last ounce of hot chocolate, he left fifteen dollars on the table to cover his meal and tip before setting off. The moment he stepped out of the store, he hovered his thumb over the iPhone’s screen and swiped it along until he got to his camera. From there, he made sure the camera was recording from the screen’s side, put it up high, and pressed play as he walked the streets.


“Joanna! Hey! It’s Maxie.” He said with an initially gleeful smile and a peppy tone of voice. “I read your journal, and I have to say. Powerful stuff. Honestly. If your ring skills match your penmanship then I am most certainly outmatched!”

“But.” The tone started to grow colder. “I just thought I’d set a couple of things straight. I hope you’re listening and listening well. Okay? Let’s go.”

“First and most importantly: I will be showing up to Breakthrough 48. Why? Because I enjoy making everyone happy. That includes you partially. You see… I want a match. I was a shot at fame. You got the completely spot on. But in order to actually HAVE a match, I need an opponent. Or, rather, a dance partner as you want to call it. As such, management has labeled you as my opponent.

“I’m not going to lie. I’ve seen you in the ring a couple of times. When I first heard that you were going to be my opponent, I just about shit myself. Why? Because you’re the only person to completely brutalize and put down the same person who has stolen wins from me. Twice. Do you know how terrifying that has to be? To go against the person who defeated someone you couldn’t? It’s a living nightmare.

“But at the same time… I’m an idiot, much to yours and the audience's pleasure. I have an attitude people either are in love with, or absolutely hate. It’s called a “Never Say Die” attitude. I don’t really turn down fights. I don’t run from them, despite how far between my legs my tail is tucked. Why? Because I’m a fighter and, win or lose, I’m damn good at it. You want to make me bleed, then let’s fucking go. I love blood and I love bleeding for this sport. Look down my title history. CLAW’s Anything, Anytime, Anywhere Championship. Nine record-breaking reigns as a twenty-four hour Hardcore Champion. Blood isn’t something foreign to me. You want to make me bleed and paint your message into the white canvas? I invite you to do so.

“Just don’t be surprised if I do the same back.

“Now. What’s this about hiding? And how you stand out in the open? I’m sorry, but are you calling me a coward? Tut, tut… Jo-Jo, I am offended! I’m sorry that your partner of more ways than just in the ring won’t be showing to the match. But how do you think I feel? I have a loved one who is stuck in Hawaii while I’m out enjoying my career. I don’t have allies or friends here. No one has my back. But you know what? I’m still kicking. Alone. Out in the open, just as you are.

“Do I trust management? That depends. Do I trust the same people who fed me to such a worrisome woman such as yourself? Do I trust the people who have put me up against the same person I lost to once before, in yet ANOTHER match she could steal out from under my feet? No, Joanna, I do not. But, to be completely honest, I don’t think it would be wise to trust ANY sort of professional wrestling management at this point. Everyone is a politician and everyone plays favorites. I found that out from day one of being in the business as a whole.

“But in the end, they signed the checks to watch us fight. So, we come back to full circle again. Management has us scheduled for a match tomorrow at Breakthrough 48. I’m going to show up. You sure as Hell are going to show up. And we’re going to meet in the middle of that ring and actually have a match. More than just that shot is on the line right now. Both of us have much more to gain than simple exposure.

“You have a message that you want known. You’re not a singles competitor, really. You don’t want to fight without your sweetheart and partner by your side. You want that message known loud and clear. Hence why you’ve gone to such lengths to make sure you’ve won your last encounters. So, bravo. You’ve done well. But a message isn’t going to break my resolve. Not that easily.

“Because I have so much more to gain from this match than just sending a message. For one, I can finally put this damn losing streak to an end. Zero and Three since I returned. God awful. I refuse to fall to you and allow it to become Zero and Four. I need this match to prove that I’m still relevant. To disprove not only to you, but all of the fans that have turned their backs on me. To all of the people who say things like: “All Talk, No Bite”, “Washed up.” To all those people who have brought up nothing but my negatives, this match is solely for them.

“And I don’t plan on falling after just this. If I do win this match, that’s just a step in the right direction and a goddamn big step at that. Quest for the Case? A shot at potentially any championship VOW has to offer? I’ll take that challenge. But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The first step in the right direction starts with you.

“So, come on. I dare you, Joanna. Bring on the Chaos. Try and shut my hope and light down. Try and break and destroy me. I welcome the challenge. Why? Because shutting people like you up is the best part about this job. Even better than gold, if just by an inch.

“In order to be a hero, you have to win at least once? You have to prevail over the darkness of the world… just once.”

On that parting word, Max found himself looking up… conveniently enough, right in front of a dance studio.

“... it looks like I’ve found my first talent to master.”

Max stared back into the lens of the camera with a small smile.

“A dance, right? You bring your shoes and I’ll bring my Sunday’s best. I’ll see you at Breakthrough 48. Don’t disappoint me now. Would be a shame if you took a loss to someone like me, now, wouldn’t it?”

With that… the recording cut and Max stepped into the studio. It was the first of many stops for the Perfect Disaster… the Renaissance Man, Maxwell Soloke. And all the while... he hummed... and he sang... "We'll take back tomorrow..."