Post by Lavender on Jun 27, 2019 20:36:35 GMT -6
'Being surrounded by half a dozen security guards was intimidating. The feeling made me harken back to the days I spent in the orphanage. It reminded me of the struggle it took to escape for one precious moment to myself. It seemed like such a game of stealth to allow myself a little escape from the monotony of such a structured lifestyle. But management had told me that the security presence was essential, they wanted to maintain the mystique of the term 'mystery opponent' and I understood that. For the sake of preserving that mystique, thankfully the security had been there because Jenna Salvatore had intended on blowing my cover for the sake of her journalist integrity. They were there to ensure she didn't pass through that locker room door. Perhaps plastering the words 'mystery opponent' across the front of the door wasn't such a great idea. But as I heard that bang on the door I knew that it was time for those walls to be brought down and for the mystery to finally be revealed. As one of the security guards talked to a production crew member outside my locker room I felt like Goldberg, in his prime, preparing to burst through that door and march my way out to the ring. There was no way I was smashing this fragile forehead against the door though, mental preparation did the job of pumping me up for the match just fine. There were no military drums or horns, there were no melodic chants, I was being accompanied to the ring by the soothing vocals of Amy Lee as Evanescence's 'Imaginary' blared throughout Arena Ruse. And that arena welcomed me back with open arms, despite having been gone for the past year or so and that, that felt special'.
'And then I saw him, standing in the ring, waiting for my arrival. In the ring stood a man who had been taking Prime within the palm of his hand and molding it in his favour. Despite coming up short to Vanita Thompson, Fabian Dufresne had been swift to secure a place as a contender to the Television Championship, an opportunity he would be afforded two weeks from now in Dunkerque, France. The butterflies in my stomach jittered. My hands, unbeknownst to the crowd, were shaking. But it was a good kind of apprehension for I knew my return would be against one of the best up-and-coming talents Prime had to offer. I thrived under this kind of pressure, even if it didn't always feel like it. The bell rang and before I knew it the match was over and I had been defeated in my return. I asked myself was I ready? The result of the match would say otherwise but I still felt ready, despite the depressing outcome. I had stood toe-to-toe with one of Prime's best and had managed to keep him on his toes. I wanted this time around to be different than the last. But not all was lost. With one slip up comes the opportunity to make amends. I didn't put all that blood, sweat, and tears into preparing for my return only to let it all slip away at the first sign of defeat. I was willing to continue to put myself through those trials and tribulations in order to be like the superheroes I looked up to as a child. You will more than likely read this, I know you will. I can already envision that face you will give me when reading these words. I can already hear you saying 'you're my little superhero'. I can feel the warm embrace of your hug as you lean over and wrap your arms around me tight and ensure me that 'everything is going to be okay'. And although it is hard to see the forest through the trees, I am sure you are right. Everything is going to be okay'.
