Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2019 20:51:16 GMT -6
I can feel it again.
The surge of energy when things go right, when you prove people wrong.. When you win. For me, fighting Dathan was so much more than a match to prove myself, it was a reboot, a chance to right the wrongs. Don’t get it twisted, I lost the NEW World Heavyweight Championship fair and square, no arguments, no exceptions. I also pinned the man that took it from me, that man, is now once again carrying the championship, and the company, on his shoulders, and where am I? It hurts. Not because I’m emotional that I wasn’t one of the first people Jesse called, or even Al for that matter, It hurts that you can be forgotten so quickly. Beating Dathan, it can change everything. It might seem small, but small steps add up quickly...
When I walked into NEW for the first time in the beginning of 2015, No one knew who I was, or what I would do, not even me. I thought, X-Core Champion at best, maybe the following year if I progressed quick enough. No. I beat challenger after challenger, until I was put into a position to take a much greater prize, and I did.
Beating Dathan.. It was like the first challenge all over again.. Every journey has its start, and this was a whole new road full of challenges and obstacles to overcome, I’ve done it before..
I can do it again.
~~~
“Hey, good match tonight, bet you’re feeling good. Got something that is gonna make you feel even better. Call me when you’re free, we’ll chat details.”
What that meant, Tristan didn’t even think of knowing, but it must be something good, as much of an asshole that he is, Ethan wouldn’t just say shit to get his hopes up, no.. He knew something about his attackers, and any information on that event would for sure bring a smile to his face. Aside from focusing on his career, his mind has been plagued by just who exactly wanted him gone. Fingers could be pointed at Pugh, after what Ambrose took from him, Or Al and Defiance, they weren’t exactly on good terms, other than that, he wasn’t sure exactly who want him injured, beaten or some messed up shit in between.
Figuring now was as good a time as any, he clicked the call icon on the message screen and waited for the other man to answer on the other line..
“Ambrose, you’re gonna love me.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, what have you got for me.”
“Well, first things first, congrats on beating Dathan. I know that these past couple weeks have been messing with your mind, but I think I found the solution.”
“I’m listening..”
“My affiliation with you isn’t publicly known. Sure some people might know you are training my nephew to sit on his ass and collect a NEW paycheck, but that might be the key. Say I was to reach into my resources in the town you were attacked in, put out the word that I want you taken out so I can find him a better trainer for Tyler, and then when they come to attack you, You’ll be ready, and we can get the information out of them the hard way.”
“Oh fuck me, why didn’t I think of that, Oh that’s right, cause I was hit in the head from behind, I don’t even know who or what they look like Ethan.”
“Listen, It’s easy, we go to Green Bay, pull this off quick, boom we’re out of there and we can meet the kid and Alex in Vegas, hopefully with them both sober enough to function. I'll be there the whole time.”
Honestly, he really didn’t have a choice in the matter, he needed to solve this mess so he could handle it and get back to business.
“I tell you what Ethan. I’ll fly down, and you can follow in that big ol’ plane of yours, make the deal, and shoot me an address. I’m done with the games, someone is going to fucking pay for screwing me out of a title shot, for damn near putting me on the shelf for months..”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this. See you soon.”
The king of short conversations.. Hanging up the phone, he was sure that Ethan would inform Alex and the kid about the new travel arrangements for this week, normally he didn’t like to be far from the kid, because he constantly wants to show him which way to walk in this crazy world, because this business likes to chew up kids his age a dime a dozen, and then spit their injured corpses back onto the pavement before finding the “next big thing.” It wasn't easy living this life.. He told him that day one. Making the arrangements wasn't as smooth as he'd hoped, considering the hurricane that was about to fuck Florida in the ass. But getting out of Florida was not something he had to be told twice to do, so he managed to get a flight out, and he prayed to fuck that the flight wouldn't be canceled. At least he knew who he was fighting in Vegas, and to be honest, he didn’t know much about Hudson McKnight, He didn’t know his style, shit.. To be completely honest, he was another one of these guys that were kinda just there. That wasn’t a knock, but in a company filled with reputable names, sometimes, people just slip through the cracks unnoticed. Ambrose did. But he quickly showed that he belonged in NEW, that he could hang with the best, and come back when he failed. He didn’t know if this guy had that ability in him, but he wasn’t going to go in underestimating him, that’s how motherfuckers end up getting beat by unknowns. Granted, it isn’t like Tristan was a top dog in others' eyes, but in his own? He was the fucking man, and all this was about proving it against EVERYONE. Top to bottom. Was he the World Champion? Was he a champion at all? No. Not yet at least, and that’s all he focused on.
Not Yet...
Things were rather uneventful as the planning to get to the bottom of who hired the attack on him got underway, lucky he was able to get out of Florida before anything major happened, he felt bad for those people, but what could he do, He had his own shit to worry about. Thankfully, the flight did go off without a hitch but see the whole thing that he couldn't stop thinking about the whole flight over, was Hudson Mcknight. Which is rather funny considering all of the bullshit that was going on in his life, call it the professional in him, but he still was focused on the match coming up in Vegas more so than the fucking information heist that he was going to attempt to pull off. Hudson.. Is just another Dathan really. Someone who is at the bottom and thinks beating him is the key, the guiding light to save their failed career, and yeah, maybe Ambrose has been in that situation once or twice himself, because he's seen what loss after loss does to a man, He's see Youngblood, he's see the man he became and who he aligned himself with in desperation..
That isn't who Ambrose is, that isn't what he's become. Ambrose was back in Cheesehead Central, Green Bay, Wisconsin. And he was back there to end this before it started, no matter who it was, no matter what connections they had, Tristan wasn't just going to stand by and let them take him out. It had been a few hours, and Ethan hadn't contacted him yet, which honestly, eased him for the moment. It gave him time to think on how he was going to do this. Did he go buy a bat, a pipe, anything to ensure that this went off without a hitch. God forbid this shit the bed and he was hurt before Ignite, before he even got in the ring with Hudson, needless to say, it might be better to save this for a week he had off, but when he fuck does that ever happen nowadays.
In the end, he settled on a baseball bat. Nice. Wooden. Familiar. Hell, all the years of swinging barbwire bats made him kind of proficient in it's usage after all. He doesn't wanna kill them, but he doesn't exactly know how many of them there will be, and if Ethan isn't an asshole, maybe he only sends one or two, because he doesn't believe in that tough guy movie bullshit, Tristan knows that if there are more than two, odds are he gets a shot off, and that is if they don't all charge at him at once. But that was the risk he was taking here.. Eventually, the text does comes through, it tells him where to go, and where Ethan will be in case things go ashtray. He wonders internally how he came to trust this guy more than anyone else in his life at the moment, considering the shady means he acquired his services...
He remembers that day in Chicago quite clearly.
~Two Years Prior~
Tugging on his leather jacket, he felt the cool breeze try to hit the back of his neck, making him glad he’d started going with the longer hair look, which was currently held in place by a beanie. The kind weather that Chicago offers really sets him back in his roots where he started wrestling. He wished Seattle was like this, same weather, but less rain... Turning the street corner, he looked down the string of businesses of downtown Chicago, most were deep dish pizza spots, or something of that nature, but, not what he’s looking for at the moment. Walking past building after building, One building stands out among the others, Cappotelli and Co.
Walking in, Tristan made a b line for the elevator, getting in and pushing for the top floor. Honestly, the quicker he wasn't listening to this shitty jazz the better. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opens, greeting him with the entrances to Alexander's office. The receptionist sees him, and instantly picks up the phone.
“Hello Mr. Cappotelli, your three o’clock is... Yes sir, I canceled your four and five o’clock meetings... but your three o’clock has re-booked his meeting with you to next week, Mr. Ambrose just got here, would you like for me to let him in? Yes sir I can lead him back.”
She said hanging up the phone and motions him to follow her, while she silently making her way to Alexander’s office. Opening the door, She steps aside as Tristan moves into the room shutting the door..
“Ambrose, Goo-”
“Shut up, sit down....”
Ambrose begins taking his sweet time looking at some of the law books that were on the bookshelf, before he quickly turns around and tosses Alex's briefcase off the desk, reaching into his pocket and tossing some papers from inside his jacket onto the desk..
“Mind explaining this to me......”
Alex took a moment and looked at the papers, before looking into Tristan’s eyes... He looks at his hands which were firmly gasping the edges of the desk as he shakes his head.. Setting the papers down he slowly sits back in his chair, not breaking eye contact with his client..
“Well.. First, just let me say that those weren’t meant for your eyes yet... an- and questions you may have about this I will answer to the best of my abilit-”
Before he could finish, Tristan flings his left hand across a coffee mug that was on the table, sending it flying and watching as it shatters over against the wooden wall.. Alexander only sat there and looked at the now broken mug, slightly saddened...
“You know my daughter gave me that for father’s da-”
“Yeah? Well let me inform you that I, that’s me, pays you to manage me and handle contracts that I need looked over... NOT for you to go into business for yourself, especially when it affects me without me knowing about it.”
Alex just looks at the table, not really wanting to admit that he’d royally fucked up.
"Look Tristan, this was just a simple business, just a simple merger.. It happens between companies all the time."
Bullshit... It was bullshit and he knew it. Alexander’s business, Cappotelli & Co was how Tristan had met him, After Ambrose’s first stint NEW, He heard about Alexander and how he was a smart businessman, So after some meetings, Tristan hired him on as an adviser, to look over contracts and handle most of the appearances that Tristan had to make for companies and the like, but he also was hired as Tristan’s full time manager, since he had that slimy deceiving look, and his way of using big words made for excellent promos. But now it seems like all the fame and money that he got from that had gone to his head, taking another look at the contract on the table, Tristan let out a sigh.
“So are you gonna tell me what that contract exactly means?”
“Yes.. If you would have allowed me to further explain what it means, I wouldn’t have to explain to my daughter why her present was destroyed by a client. This means that I’m going to still be managing you and handling your contracts, as well as all the legal advice that you need but as a result, They are going to handle your appearances and they are only asking for a small compensation.”
Yep, There it is.... Compensation for a service that wasn’t even requested...
“How much compensation Alex...”
Alexander took a moment to swallow the lump in his throat....
Bad sign right there already..
“They agreed to a small compensation of thirty p-”
“No..”
“Listen-”
“Thirty! That is fucking outragous Alex! I already pay you twenty percent, that is fucking half of my earnings!! You forget I’m not making huge money in NEW anymore? I’m working Indies now you fucking..”
“Look I know it looks bad but you need to look on the bright side, these guys are big, they have connections that I don’t have, you are going to be getting some major appearances out of this deal, sponsorships! I did this to get your name out there, and collected a nice profit out of it. This was beneficial for both of us.”
Half of all future earnings... All for bigger appearances? Possible sponsorships? The amount of bullshit that was flowing from Alexander’s mouth.. Fucking unacceptable.
"I'm sorry Tristan.. look out of the the money I get from my part of the deal, I'll-"
Before he could finish his though the receptionist came in, causing their attention to be drawn to her, and the older looking man that was behind her.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Campos is here to see you sir.. I tried to tell him you were in a meeting, but he insisted.. ”
The man walked into the room and took a look at Tristan, before looking at Alexander, then back to Ambrose as he stuck his hand out for me. Looking at Alexander, Tristan firmly shake the man’s hand.
"And here is the fucking man of the hour right here... Tristan Ambrose."
Alexander had stood up, making his way around the table, shaking hands with “Mr. Campos” Before getting in between the middle of the two of them. The look of confusion must have been aparent, because Campos put his hand on his shoulder, causing Ambrose to look from his shoulder into his eyes.
"Tristan allow me to introduce myself, I’m Ethan Campos, and we are gonna become great friends.."
“Yeah I’ll be the judge of that... Who are you to me?”
He chuckles a bit, before looking over at Alexander.
"Tristan, Ethan Campos is the CEO of WATCH Incorporated. He handles Movie Stars, Musicians, Athletes and now Wrestlers.. He decided, with pro wrestling rising in the market again, that he would add his services to you as a bit of a test run. From now on he is going to be handling all of your appearances, whereas I’ll stay on as your adviser and manager, all you have to do.... is sign the contract here with us.”
Tristan’s eyes slowly land on the contract he had laid on the table when he came in... Picking it up, he flipped through it... No signatures... Campos sat down in the chair Tristan had previously shoved out of his way.. Alex referred to the other chair in the room.
“Did you think I would sign off on the final deal without consulting you first?”
“I told Alex to act as if the deal was done.. I wanted to hear how you felt about it before we all signed off on it. I purposefully sent you a copy of the contract, and had Alex cancel all his meetings, and told him to have you come in today...”
Tristan looked on as the two of them laid it out like it was some grand master fucking plan. Shaking his head, he looked out of the window..
“I’m even willing to negotiate something in exchange for the compensation”
“You’d take less money?.”
“No Alex, listen. I got a nephew. Good kid, awesome in on the high school mats. Could easily get into college on his wrestling skills alone, the problem is, he doesn’t have the size to contend where it matters”
“Okay?”
“He wants to wrestle, it’s his dream, but I think with his size, and his skill, he’d make a damn good wrestler in the right hands.. So here’s the deal. You train him, I advertise you, maybe land you a sponsorship, and we all benefit from this deal.”
~Present Day~
Needless to say, He agreed. So maybe what was about to happen.. Maybe that was just him protecting his investment, or ending this before his nephew was put in further danger..
Either way, it had Tristan standing where he wanted him, hearing the footsteps slowly approach behind, Tristan's face turned into a confusing glare as he heard a hard smack causing him to instantly turn around quick enough to see one of the two men drop, a third masked man standing behind him with a god damn revolver pointed at the other. In any other situation, Tristan would have shit three bricks, but he knew that it was Ethan, or at least someone in on their plan, but he knew that the plan had worked as soon as he approached and slid the bat out of his jacket sleeve, finally getting close enough to see the man's weapon.. A flashlight, the same black metal flashlight that had come into contact with Tristan's skull a few weeks ago..
"Well well.. Look at this!"
The other started to move, but a quick stomp to his face put him back into his place. Lifting the bat onto his shoulder, he shook his head, as he slid the bat into swinging position, coming extremely close to the man's face with each swing.
"It doesn't have to happen this way, all you gotta do is fork over a few key parts of information.. I want a name."
"Fuck off yeah? You think measly threats are going to ge-"
Bringing the bat down, he nailed a shot directly on the collar bone of the man, who instantly collapsed in extreme pain.
"Yeah, see I think right now? You are in an extreme amount of pain.. Pain you don't want to get worse.. So better yet, let's have you lie down while we find out just exactly your working for."
"Campos!! Ethan Campos hired us to attack you again, said he wanted the job done right! Said the middle man didn't have the job done right last time!"
"I know about Campos, But I know he didn't go alone, and the middle man is who I want. SO SPILL IT! Who was the middle man? Who ordered my attack weeks ago? Tell me and I don't spill your teeth across this alleyway."
"I.. I can't she.."
She huh? Tristan looked from the man to Ethan, the mask still masking his identity clearly, but the eye color matched. Tristan felt the anger radiating off his skin.. Fucking hell he had a match to prepare for, but this was bigger than some random win on Ignite, this was about finding out who screwed him out a championship opportunity, who ordered him to be put on the shelf, This was about so much more than NEW.. Someone had to pay, and this fucking weasel was gonna spill his secrets, one way or the other. Bashing the butt of the bat into his accomplice's head who once again was making a move, he heard Ethan pull back the chamber as the man went for his flashlight, silently shaking his head.. This had to end now..
"WHO! TELL ME HER FUCKING NAME, OR THE NEXT SOUND YOU HEAR IS GONNA BE A SLUGGER SLAMMING OFF THE BASE OF YOUR FUCKING JAW!"
.
..
...
"Blair.. Blair Buchannan."
~~~
It's funny really, when you think about all the bullshit that I've went through. You'd think a shock that someone in NEW would send hired thugs after me would surprise me, but it doesn't. But now I know. It's a safe assumption that whatever Blair does, Defiance backs. And that was something that doesn't sit well with me. So I'll sit on this information.. I'll sit on the knowledge that Blair doesn't know I have, Ethan paid to ensure the man's silence, not just in Blair's attack, but also his "failure" to end me. Fucking idiots..
Back to the task at hand.
Hudson Mcknight.
I honestly, have no fucking idea who you are, or what you resume looks like..
Champion?
Not that I've seen.
Nut Job?
Aren't we all? Whatever way you wanna take this, I'm all for it. See because unlike all these other people, I've seen what you think is nothing, and I've been lower than that. You wanna run around and claim to the stars that you aren't being taking serious? What do you want? Attention? EARN IT. You think I cling to this idea that I was once a former World Champion and because I'm not that no longer, I'm washed up? Let me ask you, what have you done? Ever? Anything? See I may look to my old accomplishments as a marker of where I've been, but hey, at least I HAVE old accomplishments to look at. What are you, but some delusional fucked up nut case that thinks they've seen the top of the world, when they've barely even climbed the fucking summit.
So YES, please, come. Bring your fucking A game because I sure as shit know that I'm bringing mine, It isn't that I'm underestimating you "kid", In fact, it's likely the opposite. I'm bringing too much for you to handle Hudson, Fucking know that, Believe that, because when reality hits, when my fucking boot drives your skull into the mat maybe then, Maybe you'll see the light, maybe the craziness that lives in that noggin of yours, maybe I stomp it out, maybe that makes things right for you.
I hope it does.
Because I will be damned if some "escapee" stops me from climb the ladder back to where I used to be.. See, I maybe have come up short on my promises, I may have fallen from grace, but one thing I have NEVER been, and NEVER will be, is washed up, defeated and broken.. That's a problem that a lot of people assume about me, and you've added yourself to that list..
You've become a problem, Hudson.. But honestly, I feel sorry for you. So trust me when I say, that kicking you back down the summit back into your pathetic life, it isn't out of enjoyment. But it's going to happen all the same..
Blair can wait.. You on the other hand, come the end of Ignite in Vegas?
Are just going to be another fucking problem solved..