[ apathy strikes back ]

"Open the fucking door!"

A ray of sunlight spilled across the front deck of Adam Cameron's new home in Los Angeles. Although it was bright and sunny, the air was rather cold and bitter and it sent a chill down the spines of anyone who stepped out into it. Adam's new house was gigantic in comparison to his previous residence that was only slightly larger than any other house in his neighborhood. This house was nothing short of a sprawling mansion, at least three times as large.

Standing on the deck was none other than NEW3's resident bitch Katie Winter, who, coincidentally, had grown accustomed to having casual sex with the former champion. Although they never officially dated, Adam had admitted several times that they had and often got strange looks from the rest of the staff and roster when he talked about it.

Katie stood with a microphone in hand, and a cameraman behind her. Dressed in an extremely short black skirt and a rather revealing red top, she raised her fist again and pounded on the large double-door front entrance, not bothering to use the giant door-knocker. "I know you're in there, you fucking slob. Open up, we have an interview to do."

She stopped for a moment, leaning a little bit closer to the door in an attempt to pick up any noise from inside. Instead, she heard a click above and to her right, where a window swung open. A bang sounded and Cameron himself leaned out the window, a bottle of Heineken in his hand. His appearance was rather messy, and his long hair was not tied back in a ponytail, which was rare. He was obviously drunk, which was a frequent occurence since his most recent return to NEW.

"Wha'the FUCK do YOU want?!" he yelled, raising his other hand and pointing at her. "We're havin' a fuckin' PARTY in here, man. It's fucking AWESOME." He laughed out loud, lolling his head back, and almost letting go of his precious beer. He immediately cought it, before leaning in and placing it on the windowsill. He looked out to Katie again. "F'ck you. Hahaha."

Katie rolled her eyes and placed her hands firmly on her hips, giving Adam an ultimo-crazybitch stare that would paralyze any sober man in fear of having their testicles driven into their small intestine. "NEW sent me to do an interview. We talked about this, you lazy fucking sloth. I said I'd be here at three o' clock, and, fuck, look at the time, it's three o' clock."

"Fuck THAT, man!" blurted Cameron. "Can'cha see I'm fuckin' busy here? Jesus Christ." He laughed out loud again, throwing his head back once again. The back of his skull smacked against the windowframe, causing him to curse violently, turning around to glare at the inanimate object for several moments before looking down at Katie. "Fuck."

Katie flipped him off. "Fuck you. Let us in so I can do this and leave."

Cameron pointed down to the door. "Well why the fuck are ya' standin' at the fuckin' door?! Come inside, y'idiot."

Katie almost growled in frustration. "It's LOCKED, you retard. Let us in, I have shit to do."

"FUCK YOU!" yelled Cameron, before reaching in the window and grabbing an empty bottle. He quickly leaned out the window again, before hurling it down at her. It landed about twenty feet away, smashing on the driveway pavement. "...Fuck!" He cursed again. "Keep your fucking pants on," he said, as he leaned in the window. There was a pause before he leaned out again.

"On second though, take your pants OFF. You're fucking hot," he said. "Wait. You aren't wearing pants. Take your SKIRT off. Haha. I fucking rule."

"OPEN THE GOD DAMNED DOOR!" she screamed, throwing her hands out.

"AAHH-RIGHT, JESUS!" he yelled, pulling the window shut with a bang. Katie could hear him slamming the door as he walked out of the room, and eventually he stumbled to the door, pulling it open, revealing a stunning entranceway with marble foors and a spiralling staircase in the back. Three hallways led out of the room at different pointed. "Welcome to my humble adone. Or abode. I don't fucking know. Welcome to my fucking house. There we go."

Katie turned back to her cameraman. "Turn the camera on. Let's get this done so we can leave this shithole."

"Shithole?!" screamed Cameron. "This fucking place cost me six hundred thousand dollars! THIS IS NO SHITHOLE!"

"Fuck you," blurted Katie as the camera began to roll. She turned to the lens, smiling. "Greetings fans. We're here at the home of former World Champion Adam Cameron to get a few words from him about his current run in New Era Wrestling." She turned, facing Cameron. "How can you explain your poor performance in the past few weeks?"

Adam's jaw dropped. "Poor performance?! Are you on crack?! I'm KICKING ASS and TAKING DAMES. Or something. I don't fucking know."

Katie sighed. "You've lost two straight and couldn't beat a rookie in the National Title Tournament."

"Fuck that. I kicked their asses."

"...You didn't. You lost both matches."

Adam paused. "Oh yeah. Haha. Uh, I was sick. I had...uhh...herpes."

Katie's eyes narrowed, as she began to grow even more frustrated with the drunken fool. "You were sick with herpes, excellent. Who was the lucky STD-carrying girl?"

Adam stopped. "What the fuck? Herpes isn't an STD. It's like...an HIV, or something."

Katie's head dropped. She let out a sigh before picking it up and looking at him again. "HIV is a type of STD. Herpes is also an STD."

Adam paused again. "Did I say I have HERPES?! Ohh! I meant, YOU HAVE HERPES, YOU STUPID SLUT! AHAHAHAHAHA!!" Adam burst with laughter, almost toppling over from his cackling. "Man, that was a fucking burn. Hah."

Katie was about ready to snap, but she held back. She changed the subject. "You have a dream match this week against Morgana--a no-disqualification match, something you have proved before that you can excel in. How do you think you'll do?"

"I know who I'm gonna do. MORGANA! WOOHOO!" he yelled out loud.

"No, I said, HOW do you think you'll do?" Katie growled, frustrated already.

"Oh, HOW. Hahha, okay. Uhhh, well, I'm obviously gonna kick her ass, like, a million times over. Ev'rybody thinks I can't do it anymore, BUT THEY ARE SO FUCKING WRONG. I'll redeem myself.

"Don't you think they have every right to believe that? I mean, you haven't been anywhere near the top of your game lately and it shows. You've sold out, bought a huge mansion, started drinking twice as heavy as before you stopped, and become incredibly lazy and unreliable. And you have nothing to say to those people? You don't even have an excuse?" Katie asked, almost yelling at him.

Adam paused, taking in what she said for a moment. "Nobody says that."

Katie shook her head. "Everybody says that."

Adam shot her an angry look. "That's fucked up. Get the fuck out of my house."

"I'm not finished my interview," Katie protested. "I'm not leaving."

Adam's face suddenly flared up in a kind of anger unseen from him since previous emergences of his dreaded alter-ego. His eyes practically lit up with flame as he let loose on Katie. "I told you to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE." This was not Adam's classic hilarious drunkard self cursing, it was the anger inside of him that only reared its ugly head once in a while. "Leave."

Katie was somewhat shocked, and she stepped back away from the fuming former Champion, waving for the cameraman to stop rolling the tape. He did, and they both headed towards the door, in an akward kind of silence. They both stepped out, and Katie closed the door behind him. Cameron let out a deep sigh and sank backwards against the wall, eventually dropping into a sitting position. He hung his head.

For the second time in a week he had been told directly that he was no longer even useful; that he was nothing more than a dead trend, washed up and tired. And it was people that mattered to him--Cade Silver, his longtime friend, practically cursed his name. Katie Winter, whom he had known for almost an equally long time, had said the same thing. It made him start to wonder if every single person he knew was going to turn his back on him.

And it suddenly came to him that they had turned their backs a long time ago.

Adam's head slowly rose, revealing an expression that would terrify anyone inside the ring. His eyes were once again seemingly filled with an essence that was not unlike fire. His twisted scowl and clenched fists added to the sight and making it altogether a sign that things were about to chance.

Adam Cameron was tired of being nobody and having nobody, and it was time something was done about it, whether he had the support of his friends and fans, or not.

It was time someone breathed some life back into the word Decline, because for much too long it had become a symbol of failure.

And that person was going to be Adam Cameron.