Tick

Tick

Tick

Tick

...

I hate clocks that tick.

All of them.

Especially when your patience starts to run thin. There has been plenty of time to consider the message given to her, and respond to me. She knows the game. She watched Rayne play it. It is polite to give a response, whether it be negative...or positive.

In my case?

I would prefer her response to be positive.

But thats just me.

Who knows, maybe I can get something out of giving her his location. Money is of course the first choice. Maybe even contacts that Rayne might have left with her? Yeah...that would be even better. Or maybe...wait...

I cant do that. Karma has been a bitch to me lately, and I'm not going to go stepping on anyones toes. Not this early in the game at least. I know Rayne, we went through a lot back in the day, and he saved my life more times than I can count. I owe that guy. And I owe his family.

Well...

If he even has a family left.

My driver pulls up to my beach house, opens the door for me as I step out into the sunlight. I look out into the ocean. It was a good choice to buy a home here. Plettenberg Bay, South Africa will be away from all waring groups back in the states, and my employer will still be able to work with me from here. Besides, international jobs are the ones that pay the most. I turn and thank the driver, walk down a winding rock path towards my front door, and go inside. I toss my bag on the floor and walk into the living room. My wounds are healing, and the ringing in my ears has stopped, so I have been feeling pretty fucking great.

An alert message pops up on my laptop that is sitting on the coffee table. I ignore it and walk over to my window, looking out at the Indian Ocean. I hear a beep from my computer. I ignore it again, enjoying for once, no phone calls or deadlines to be met. I open the door to the deck, but the wind is fairly strong, so I shut the door as my computer beeps again. I sigh and turn towards it. It could be Coral responding to me. Sitting down on the couch I look at the alert.

Just as I thought. A message.

But not from her.

The message reads:

"A conversation is needed. The company needs you to explain your actions. A limo will arrive at nine in the morning to pick you up."

I frown. I don't feel like telling them why I did something...anything for that matter. I figure they would trust me by now. Guess not. I close the message and lean back in my couch. I'd rather go to a bar and find someone to go home with. It would be a good way to pass time while I wait for Coral's response.

I just hope she didn't kill the messenger I sent.

I shrug and close my eyes, hoping to find whatever peace I can. But I doubt any comfort will come.

Who needs it anyway...


+++


Lets get right too it.

I looked at my match this week, and I recognized the name of my opponent. I knew the name, because I can remember watching her on my television. I can remember seeing how good she was in the ring, and I knew that for this match to go as planned...I would need to do my research. So I did. I love the fact that I'm being placed in front of so many challenges, and still getting through them...even if it is a struggle for me each time. I think I know for a fact, that this match is the Penthouse, compared to what I have done so far...and I'm the Janitorial Closet on the third floor.

It's nerve wracking...

Standing up and looking across the board, seeing faces the most anti-fans would recognize and hearing names that are always seen in Print. Then seeing yours, and knowing that next to them and what each of them has already proven, you don't even deserve to be Forced into this Slot.

Is it going to be an embarrassment?

Is it going cost me more then I can afford?

The thoughts start racing, and then as I stare at the line and focus on my name, I can't help but think that it's just a shade lighter then everyone else's. Almost faded, softer then the rest. I squint my eyes, trying to focus closer on it and the name sitting on the same row, and decipher whether it is in fact, true.

I back up finally.

I know Regardless, as long as I do what I know I can do, then it won't be the Truth.

It isn't often in life you're given a chance to redeem yourself. I was handed it, reluctantly, but now that I have finally realized exactly what it is that I have been given, I will never let it slip away again. It isn't only about myself this time, for now I dedicate everything to those who backed me...being my friends Hitman and DiPietro. But I cant help but feel like the Hot Dog at a Prime Rib restaurant; Peanut Butter and Jelly at a Sushi Bar. Something out of the ordinary and out of place, that most repetitively state shouldn't be there. Perhaps they're right, but I'm here nonetheless...

And I don't plan on going anywhere.

Call me the Kids Menu; I may not be the top choice, but I get plenty of Orders.

This match is Champagne and Caviar...and I'm Cheetos.

But I'm going to Circulate the Party faster then any of you could ever imagine. Passing out fake laughter at all your blandish jokes, and impressing all of the right people in the process. Whether or not it's the jealous folk that will be being overlooked at my expense is not a concern of mine. What is, however, is that the opinions that matter sample a little taste of what I have. It may not be refined like what your high society entails, but a memorable impression I promise will be left upon you.

If I'm lucky, maybe you'll even want a little more. Just make sure to prepare yourself after; You wouldn't want any of your friends to know that your jumping on my Radio-Flyer. Even if I have already proven myself by winning the Tag Team Championships.

Yup...this match is Meagan Collins. And I'm Jason Coyote.

And while I may not be the highly coveted prospect from long ago, I am a bottom dwelling newcomer to this turf. Surprising to you maybe Meagan, but that's perfectly fine with me. Everybody has to begin somewhere; That's what this is for me Meagan, this is my beginning. This is a chance for me to prove to not only Dan Herrera and the rest of the World, but myself that I have a future that doesn't come to a close a week from now. That I can believe in myself without threat of being let down...

I don't have to tell you that it's something I'm used to. In fact, I felt the feeling again when I saw it was your name next to mine.

Why?

Because I don't think you are going to take this seriously. I watched your promos from the vaults. I watched the matches you have had. And don't get me wrong Meagan, the decision of how you chose to face your challenges is yours and yours alone...but I simply don't think you are going to be able to stack up after being out of the game for awhile. Especially when your facing such a talented prospect such as myself.

But either way, I have a feeling that You're just not going to show up. Or at least give a half assed performance, just to get a cheap pop from the crowd for returning. Whether your loved, or hated...you old timers always seem to get all the credit, for something that has been done hundreds of times over. Do not try to impress, do not try any of your usual bullshit. Just bring your "A" game on Friday, and I will bring mine, and we will see who walks out of the ring the victor.

This match is going to be resilience and heart...

And I'm finally measuring up.

I love me.