001: Dante's Blues
May 12, 2017 18:18:54 GMT -5
Post by Admin on May 12, 2017 18:18:54 GMT -5
YouTube posting (audio only, publicly listed)
The recording begins with the universally familiar sound of a tab being popped on some carbonated beverage. There's a loud slurp (deliberately noisy) followed by a metallic creak.
"Already thirsty. Haven't even started yet. Y'know, it's been over six months since the last time I did this. Time's slippery. Hasn't been that long since I laced boots though," another self-deprecating chuckle. "Funny thing, my last big match was in Toronto for this short-lived blink of a company. Name's not important. People I faced there doubly so – not to dismiss or nothin'. Just relatively – shit," the last word's muttered under his breath.
"Never even introduced myself an' I'm already goin' sideways – bad habits're hardest to break. Name's Lex. Lex Collins. Some call me Fearless. An' I ain't so deluded I think anyone's gonna start cursin' the bad luck'at brought me to this place. Ain't so bad – I'd say ask around but a lot of the folks I made a regular habit of beatin've kinda just up an' vanished. Funny how that goes sometimes, ain't it? Stars burn out. Candles get snuffed. Same difference."
A shrug's almost implied.
"They say you really wanna know someone, you gotta walk a mile in their shoes so guess we best hit the road? Want you to just close your eyes, stop what you're doin' for a few minutes an' listen. I'll be brief, alright?"
Another slurp. "These Chucks're worn, seen better days, but they still fit real good – magic shoes, y'know? You got ones like that? The kind where you slide your feet in an' it all comes rushin' back? Cool. Then you get it."
The chuckle's softer now, more personal rebuke.
"Chapter one, page one. Almost four years ago, I was in this company – name not important – starin' at this huge rumble match on the horizon. Had to beg to even get into the thing. Not why you think. Lemme backtrack. Explain a little better. I made the mistake of tellin' the truth, uncensored, when I signed with the company the year before. I told 'em I wasn't lookin' to collect trinkets. I meant it an' that's the part they didn't get. Said I was either crazy or a liar. They told me every wrestler'at's ever come 'fore me... everyone they signed after me... always made that goal obvious – Big Gold in the eventual crosshairs. Why else did I wanna be in the big leagues? They told me I'd burn out if I tried to make it all about personal success even when I felt like my best was a million shades off ever bein' deemed 'good enough'. They were right. Burned me good."
There's a metallic creak that barely masks a soft sigh.
"So, that place starts gatherin' names for this big rumble – twenty, maybe thirty people an' I'm over here kickin' rocks, clearin' my throat. I ask if maybe they could see fit to put me in there an' they're pouncin', smug's all-get-out 'cause it's like they finally caught me out. 'Oh, so now you wanna chase glory,' they say, asking why I've suddenly changed tunes almost a year later."
He pauses, breathes in and out slowly.
"I was pissed 'cause they were still doin' their damndest to stuff me into that little box an' push the lid down tight. They never got how it meant more to me to just be able to walk down that ramp under my own power after fightin' my heart out. They never understood how the roar of the crowd turned into the same white noise rush of the waves'at reminded me of the first time I saw a real beach. They never understood how bleedin', how fightin', how survivin' the aches an' the burnin' breaths meant so much more."
A beat.
"Wasn't about spotlight grabby hands. Never. It was..." he almost stumbles, covering it with a cough, "it was somethin' real, y'know? A big deal to just be there an' I just wanted to test myself. I wanted to know what was on the other side. To be somethin' more'n just some guy with a killer right hook an' all the passion in the world who never really made it."
Another bitter chuckle.
"An' maybe that'll actually be my story. Maybe that's the irony in all this pomp an' circumstance. Who knows the future?"
He sniffs.
"It's unwritten. I ain't clairvoyant. Hell," his tone holds a smile, "I'm not even 'posedta be here today."