The sights and sounds of a London nightclub are *not* where I expected to find myself. Especially not when said nightclub is only at 25% capacity due to coronavirus related regulations. See, I'm not a big nigjtclub sort of person - the same applies for bars. It's just not who I am. I'm not the type of person who hangs around in this sort of environment with others. Even if those others are Bianca and Chili, among other friends.
However, I *did* attend a few 'Blue Light Discos' as they were known when I was in High School. Back when I was known as quite a bit of a dancer. Well, I like to think I still am but my body and - well, my injuries have ensured that I am a lot more robotic and less diversified in my moves than I was back then.
Bianca on the other hand, loves coming to clubs like these and just letting her hair down a bit. Just like the vast majority of patrons here like to do, though she hasn't done so in the last year. Or well - since we had Lucina. So, why am I here now?
Why did I decide to break out of my routine and come to this particular establishment? The answer to that is actually *very* simple - I came here so that I could let my hair down; see if the scene had changed from the last time I had partaken in such leisure. Well, the fact that it also doubles as a chance for those who wish to meet me outside of a wrestling context the ability to do so is a secondary motive.
Smirking to myself, I glance at the dancefloor whilst The Prodigy's hit song Firestarter is blaring out from the speakers, feeling a slight pain pulsating through my legs. Reminding me that as much as I might wish to show off my moves, it's probably for the best that I sit here. At least for the time being.
---
Just as I said.
Just as I have been saying.
The pieces are slowly being put into place. The cogs are slowly churning, as the desire of the shrine comes to pass. As the poison continues to be purged from the industry.
Yet you still refuse to understand. You refuse to comprehend it; would rather keep the wool over your eyes.
For it is what comforts you. It is what has shielded you from having to step forth. From having to face the waves that crash into you. The walls that slowly consume you, leaving you within the pit of your own maze.
Much like I said prior to KKND, the hands of fate were waiting for those who wished to unbridle themselves. Those who were ready to stand eye to eye with the miseries they had created, yet none of you could bring yourselves to the tables. That is on you, not on me. I warned you that it wasn't about being the best.
That it isn't about whether or not you believed you deserved the acclaim - it was about actually *making the most* of that opportunity. Of proving that your words didn't simply ring hollow when the time to rise. The time to prevent the impending suffocation came to pass.
And you failed.
You allowed yourself to be laid to rest. Positioned neatly within the coffin of your own sorrow.
It was *you*; you alone who failed.
---
I glance down at the bottle of ginger beer I had ordered. Yes, it might seem strange to most, but I've never been a big beer drinker. In fact, the only time of the year I do drink alcohol is New Year's Eve. That was true even before I became a father.
To me, I've never understood the fascination with alcohol or how some people make it out to be a *manly* thing to drink; run the risk of pissing your life down the drain. Or enter a vicious cycle where you allow the vice to consume you. To dictate your very essance. Yes, I'm aware to some it can help calm them. Alleviate their nerves, but I'd much rather go on walks. Or play a video game if I wish to do that. That's just me, however.
: Hey, are you Scotty Adams? As in, *the* Scotty Adams?
I hear this voice behind me and tilt my head, seeing a man standing there, smiling.
"Yes, that's me"
As soon as he hears this, the man motions over to one of his friends. Letting them know that they were right; I am the real deal and not a mere look-a-like.
Man: I'm Chris. Huge fan of yours.
I slightly smile.
"Awesome. Did you want an autograph or something?"
As soon as I state that, he starts to beam. I don't think he was expecting me to actually offer to give him an autograph. After all, most celebrities and wrestlers tend to prefer sticking to structured and orderly meet and greets for those sorts of things; have some semblance of privacy when out and about.
Though I'm not that sort of person. If someone wants to take the time outta their day to see me. To even interact with me, I'm more than happy to give them something in return. A memoir of the time they were able to say they met me.
Chris: Yeah, I'd love to take a picture with you. If that's okay.
I nod as I push myself up, planting my left leg on the ground before walking over to him.
"Got a phone or a camera?"
Chris nods, as his friend comes over. Smiling and surprised that Chris wasn't pulling his leg. That they are indeed meeting me in the flesh.
Chris: This is my friend, Lance.
Lance smiles as Chris points to him.
Lance: Hey. We're both huge fans and watched KKND to see you win the Key to Success.
I smile, a soft laughter leaves my lips.
"Awesome. Yeah, I told them that I would take their key away. I warned them, yet they didn't listen."
Chris and Lance are too busy trying to figure out whose phone they should use to take the picture to hear me, but I simply laugh.
"I can take a picture on both phones if you'd like."
They both look at each other. Trying not to scream.
Chris & Lance: Yes please.
Chris then remembers there was something he wanted to ask me.
Chris: Can I ask you something first though?
I nod.
"Sure."
Chris: Why didn't you re-join Revolution X? I loved them when you were there last time.
I softly laugh, before thinking back to the beatdown they delivered. One that was fired in response to me attempting to level the odds during Dan's triple threat match at KKND.
I then think back to my comments from when I first walked through the doors of IIW. How I stated that the me Dan DiStoner remembers, isn't the same me who stands before him now. That I wasn't just here to feed off nostalgia and play the same act I had years ago.
"It wouldn't have been right. Don't get me wrong, it was fun when I was in that circle, but that's not the person I am anymore."
Chris then simply nods, understanding what I mean.
"So, which one of you wanna go first?"
Diverting the conversation back to the order in which they want their pictures taken, they look at one another.
Lance: Rock-Paper-Scissors for it?
Chris: Okay.
The 2 then ball up their fists and prepare for battle.
---
The sooner you realise that, the sooner you'll understand just why it had to be.
Anyway, that is in the past. That has been sealed into stone. However, a remnant still exists from the 5 soldiers. The 5 men who transversed the catacombs of their own sanity.
The one who was able to survive; lay claim to the other key. The other passage which shall lead to acclaim and glory. At least, that is what they desire for it to. Even if that meant bringing forth an armoury of their own.
Russell Wayne.
I do not blame you for seeking out Jay and Zack. For using them as additional leverage in order to claim the throne, for it was what you felt had to be done. You played the game and managed to walk away with the prize. The goal that you sought. Much as I slotted the next piece of the puzzle into place. As I positioned the next cog into the machine, to enable it to continue churning.
You made the most of the opportunity you were granted; I applaud that.
You understood that the chains. The lust that burned within you would have broken you. Would have left you within the halls of the abyss if you did not take a stand. If you refused to make the correct choice. That was something you could ill-afford.
For you have walked the passage of the mire. The road of damnation and self-destruction before, haven't you? Don't try to hide from it.
Don't try to claim that you've always wandered down a passage of light, because we both know that would be a *little* white lie. At some point, we all have. It's how we embrace it. How we figure out the path that leads to our salvation. Our liberation that defines us.
That molds us into who we are.
---
Lance, having won the rock-paper-scissors game - slowly makes his way to my right hand side. Holding the camera phone in front of us, before snapping the selfie. Him smiling and me shooting a half-smile, half curious face.
Lance: Again, thanks.
"No worries."
Chris then steps up, switching positions with Lance and takes his own picture, before walking back to be beside his friend.
Chris: Thank you man.
I smile, laughing.
"No worries at all. Always happy to."
They smile as they place their phones back in their pockets; head back to the dancefloor. Allowing me to ponder the words I said to Chris about not joining Revolution X. The after effects of their beatdown still resonating within my body.
"I'm not the person I was ---"
Repeating this, I softly sigh. I don't regret the decision I made. I never will. Yet deep down, it still lingers. For my rationale *wasn't* merely confined to professional reasons. It wasn't just the wrestling aspect I was referring to. Deep down - I believe DiStoner knows this as well. And he knows *exactly* what I am talking about.
"When I lost her --- where were you, Dan?"
I state aloud. Allowing my mind to drift back to the day Joely died. The days after Joely died and how outside of my friends. Those affiliated with Adams Enterprises, not a single soul seemed to care. Not a singular person saw how much it broke me. How much it tore me from within, to be helpless when they slit her throat. When they let her bleed out.
"You claimed we were a part of a family, yet you wandered when I stood within my bleakest moment."
I inhale, as I sit back down atop the barstool.
"That's not family, Dan. That's called manipulation. That's called casting a person aside once you have no use for them."
I exhale, as I take another sip of the ginger beer.
"And then when you thought you had a use for me once more, you tried to rebuild the bridge. The bridge that you burnt."
I then put a more sarcastic tone on my voice.
"Why of course, Dan. I'll happy put that all behind me and stand by your side. Play along with your excess partying and saturation of weed. That'd be great. It'd be like nothing ever happened."
I then smile, before resuming my usual cadence.
"Did you *really* think that was gonna work, Dan?"
I then allow that to sink in, as I lick my top lip. Trying to remove any ginger beer that may have remained.
---
We are the ones who define that, Russell. As much as you might enable your friends to provide a buffer. A means to cling onto a thread when yours has worn thin, you truly can't. For their blanket. Their sense of security isn't yours to hold. Even if they call for you. Even if they offer it, it is nothing more than a placebo.
A short-term *answer* to the wounds that cut deepest. You see, as much as you might desire for the key to lead you to the glory. The pride. The acclaim, it is a false idol. It is merely shallow, for it was your endgame. It was your crowning achievement. It wasn't mine.
As I said, I didn't *need* the key. I still don't. Yet I desired it. I wanted it, so that when the time comes forth, I can commence the next phase.
A phase, that includes ensuring that your final song, is what shall be heard. That when we set foot in that ring, the chimes. The gentle breeze that surround you, shall be what bring about your end. An ending that shall be played out before your very eyes.
---
Pushing myself upwards, I turn around. Beginning to make my way outta the nightclub. Glancing around to see if anyone else wants to meet with me as I do.
"All it proved, was that you were desperate, Dan. You knew that as much as you wanted to ride on your past. As much as you wanna make yourself out to be this leader. This champion - you needed me."
I smirk.
"Just as it was during our first rodeo. You know that Anthony Phoenix and Kevin Deen are nothing more than pieces. Cogs that can be melded in any way they need to be, whereas I can't. For I *am* the very machine they fit into."
Continuing my walk, I hear the sounds of Fatboy Slim's nightclub classic Right here, right now reverberating throughout the gym.
"Regardless of the crown Phoenix might hold."
Opening the exit door, I leave the night club. Pulling my hood back over my head.
"And it eats away at you. It burns inside to realise that as much as you tried. As much as you thought you could beat regret into me, none exists."
I exhale, deciding to soften my tone.
"However, I hope you all the best - for you are not the one in the crosshairs."
I then walk down the little footpath, turning left onto the sidewalk.
"At least, until the time calls for you."
---
As for your new *friends* - I want them right there. Front and centre as they play witness to the beating of the drums. To the bird playing with the little worm who thought he could escape. To the barrage of flames that shall embrace you. To you, I am your endgane. I am the frontier you must cross in order to truly reach what you desire. To truly grasp what you precieve as your just rewards. To me, you are nothing more than another piece of the puzzle.
One that merely survived our first encounter.
This time, there is no such hope.
There is no *escape clause*. No loophole you can exploit in order to wander away from the walls. From the prison. Now, all you can do is fester within it. Hoping that it shall show you some semblance of mercy. Yet at the same time, you realise none shall be forthcoming. For once the clock strikes. Once it is all set in play, your demise. The hands of fate that shall bring it about, are all you shall be able to see.
Come Mayhem, it shall become ever so clear.
See you there.
END.