Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jun 25, 2011 21:11:19 GMT -6
I roll over, looking for someone. Of course, there's nobody there. I drove away anyone that would give a damn about me a long time ago. I have friends, sure. But I don't have anyone that I can call my own. Nobody who I can wake up and see lying next to me. I'm going to be sleeping alone for a long time because of who I am and what I've done. Oh, I could go out and hire some ten cent floozy or pick up a vapid starlet for the night. But that's not what I'm looking for. I had something...I thought I did...and we decided it wasn't going to work. But now? I wish I hadn't. I stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Something seizes me, and I grab my phone, dialing a number. The voice on the other end is groggy. They should be, at 1:30 AM.
“Wha? Andrew, what is it? I'm trying to sleep.”
I cut right to the point, not wanting to waste my time or Danielle's.
“Why are you still hanging around me?”
She takes a second to react, partly due to her lack of rest and partly due to the seemingly obvious nature of the question.
“I'm doing it because it's my job. Now, if that's all you interrupted my beauty sleep for—”
I cut her off. I'm not in the mood for that sort of a runaround.
“I know Venom hasn't paid you since he disappeared. That's going on a month now you've been giving me advice and been my sounding board for free. There's got to be some ulterior motive. Spit it out.”
She begins to protest, but I cut her off again. Finally, she sighs.
“Okay. I keep working with you because I think you're a big break from the other kind of people I have to work with. You're charming, you're intelligent, you're considerate...and I think you're going to be a success. There. Does that satisfy you? Can I get back to sleep now?”
I pause, considering her words. Finally, I nod, even though she can't see me on the other end of the line.
“Works for me. Night, Dani. And...thank you.”
She mumbles an affirmative as I hang up, rolling back over. I close my eyes...and somehow, it's easier now. I feel different. I feel like I can live with myself again. I feel...
...whole.
______________________________
We fade in on Andrew Jacobsen sitting in his hotel room, the sun shining in through the window. He looks better than he has in his other videos, clearly having slept better. His expression wouldn't betray that, still the dour grimace he's worn in the other videos, and his tone of voice is still exasperated and somewhat lecturing.
“You defeated the Young Guns. Again, I have to start by debunking a fallacious claim by you. Let me set you straight, Alex. You didn't chase Doc out of the company. I was the one who gave him his last match of any worth, in the opening round of Road to the Gold. You didn't chase Charlie Velez out. That was the lying, backstabbing bitch Zelda Knite. He didn't leave because you whipped him or some other hyperinflated ego-stroking. He left because he decided his family business—the one his father built, the one he built—was more important than avenging himself. Venom? I have no excuse for Venom. He left, and he hasn't come back. But on from that...got a few other problems with your little whiny rant. Say...your talk about your belief being enough to let you win.”
Andrew smirks, adopting a vacant, wide-eyed expression and a matching voice.
“Golly gee, Mr. Jones, I don't know how I can overcome you believing in yourself! After all, all the Saturday morning cartoons say you can do anything if you believe in yourself, and they would never lie to me, right? Right?”
His expression melts back into the same sneer, his voice adopting an even more sarcastic edge.
“How times change, eh? Last year it would have been me saying that and you telling me that belief wasn't going to be enough when I beat you across the ring. Alex, I don't care if you believe in yourself, Shelly, God and country, magic, fairies, or Kenny Loggins. None of that will prevent me from forcing you to tap out and returning that National Title to where it belongs. You think I don't love this business, Alex? I live for it. I breathe it. Every moment of my life is lived in anticipation of the next time I get back in the ring.”
Andrew shakes his head, sighing, and rubs his temples again.
“I can't understand you...you, with your cocky declarations of victory and domination. You think you've got it all sorted out, don't you? You figure 'oh, he'll be a pushover'. Need I remind you that I took you to the limit last year, and that was before I accumulated the experience I have and you accumulated your feud with Angel's worth of injuries? You didn't think I was a pushover then. As a matter of fact...let me roll the footage.”
[/i][/b]
“Remember that? Or is the ol' selective memory going into effect now? True champion. Pushed me further...RESPECT. Those words...you brought out the best in me. That was true. But then Falcon did. Then Velez did. Then Steve did. Then Adam did. Slowly, that moment, that shining moment of glory, was eroded away. Sure, it's still something I brag about to this day. But you aren't nearly at that mythical level of 'the best I've ever faced' anymore.”
Andrew stares down the camera, glaring icily at it, and speaks with a voice that balances anger and calmness deftly.
“I never did ask. But now, at Reborn, in front of the crowd in Wembley Stadium, I promise you that I will hoist your...no...MY National Title over my head, and the crowd will be deafening. Whether they're cheering me, like they should, or booing me, like you and your goon squad have tried to indoctrinate them to, doesn't matter. All that matters is that when I win that belt, I add my name to a roll of legends. I finally...HOPEFULLY...get some respect from those who have denied it to me for so long. At Reborn, you're getting a taste of what's to come. I made people forget about you once, Jones. I can do it again. So hold Shelly one more time, tell her you love her...and then believe you'll be able to walk away.”
Jacobsen makes a quick throat-slash with his thumb, and the camera fades out.
“Wha? Andrew, what is it? I'm trying to sleep.”
I cut right to the point, not wanting to waste my time or Danielle's.
“Why are you still hanging around me?”
She takes a second to react, partly due to her lack of rest and partly due to the seemingly obvious nature of the question.
“I'm doing it because it's my job. Now, if that's all you interrupted my beauty sleep for—”
I cut her off. I'm not in the mood for that sort of a runaround.
“I know Venom hasn't paid you since he disappeared. That's going on a month now you've been giving me advice and been my sounding board for free. There's got to be some ulterior motive. Spit it out.”
She begins to protest, but I cut her off again. Finally, she sighs.
“Okay. I keep working with you because I think you're a big break from the other kind of people I have to work with. You're charming, you're intelligent, you're considerate...and I think you're going to be a success. There. Does that satisfy you? Can I get back to sleep now?”
I pause, considering her words. Finally, I nod, even though she can't see me on the other end of the line.
“Works for me. Night, Dani. And...thank you.”
She mumbles an affirmative as I hang up, rolling back over. I close my eyes...and somehow, it's easier now. I feel different. I feel like I can live with myself again. I feel...
...whole.
______________________________
We fade in on Andrew Jacobsen sitting in his hotel room, the sun shining in through the window. He looks better than he has in his other videos, clearly having slept better. His expression wouldn't betray that, still the dour grimace he's worn in the other videos, and his tone of voice is still exasperated and somewhat lecturing.
“You defeated the Young Guns. Again, I have to start by debunking a fallacious claim by you. Let me set you straight, Alex. You didn't chase Doc out of the company. I was the one who gave him his last match of any worth, in the opening round of Road to the Gold. You didn't chase Charlie Velez out. That was the lying, backstabbing bitch Zelda Knite. He didn't leave because you whipped him or some other hyperinflated ego-stroking. He left because he decided his family business—the one his father built, the one he built—was more important than avenging himself. Venom? I have no excuse for Venom. He left, and he hasn't come back. But on from that...got a few other problems with your little whiny rant. Say...your talk about your belief being enough to let you win.”
Andrew smirks, adopting a vacant, wide-eyed expression and a matching voice.
“Golly gee, Mr. Jones, I don't know how I can overcome you believing in yourself! After all, all the Saturday morning cartoons say you can do anything if you believe in yourself, and they would never lie to me, right? Right?”
His expression melts back into the same sneer, his voice adopting an even more sarcastic edge.
“How times change, eh? Last year it would have been me saying that and you telling me that belief wasn't going to be enough when I beat you across the ring. Alex, I don't care if you believe in yourself, Shelly, God and country, magic, fairies, or Kenny Loggins. None of that will prevent me from forcing you to tap out and returning that National Title to where it belongs. You think I don't love this business, Alex? I live for it. I breathe it. Every moment of my life is lived in anticipation of the next time I get back in the ring.”
Andrew shakes his head, sighing, and rubs his temples again.
“I can't understand you...you, with your cocky declarations of victory and domination. You think you've got it all sorted out, don't you? You figure 'oh, he'll be a pushover'. Need I remind you that I took you to the limit last year, and that was before I accumulated the experience I have and you accumulated your feud with Angel's worth of injuries? You didn't think I was a pushover then. As a matter of fact...let me roll the footage.”
"I told you Andrew. But you didn't believe me. I told you I was going to win the X-Division title and I told you I was going to bring out the best in you. And that's exactly what I did isn't it?. We had a match that brought the house down. It stole the show. We beat the hell out of each other so bad that the referee reached a ten count but decided to keep the match going. We had the crowd so divided that we had duelling chants going!...do you know how awesome that is?....."
"I'm man enough to admit when I'm wrong Jacobsen. You were a true champion, you FOUGHT like a true champion. You took it to me and you pushed me further than anyone else. You have my respect and anytime you want a shot at regaining the X-Division title, you just gotta ask man..you just gotta ask...."
"I'm man enough to admit when I'm wrong Jacobsen. You were a true champion, you FOUGHT like a true champion. You took it to me and you pushed me further than anyone else. You have my respect and anytime you want a shot at regaining the X-Division title, you just gotta ask man..you just gotta ask...."
“Remember that? Or is the ol' selective memory going into effect now? True champion. Pushed me further...RESPECT. Those words...you brought out the best in me. That was true. But then Falcon did. Then Velez did. Then Steve did. Then Adam did. Slowly, that moment, that shining moment of glory, was eroded away. Sure, it's still something I brag about to this day. But you aren't nearly at that mythical level of 'the best I've ever faced' anymore.”
Andrew stares down the camera, glaring icily at it, and speaks with a voice that balances anger and calmness deftly.
“I never did ask. But now, at Reborn, in front of the crowd in Wembley Stadium, I promise you that I will hoist your...no...MY National Title over my head, and the crowd will be deafening. Whether they're cheering me, like they should, or booing me, like you and your goon squad have tried to indoctrinate them to, doesn't matter. All that matters is that when I win that belt, I add my name to a roll of legends. I finally...HOPEFULLY...get some respect from those who have denied it to me for so long. At Reborn, you're getting a taste of what's to come. I made people forget about you once, Jones. I can do it again. So hold Shelly one more time, tell her you love her...and then believe you'll be able to walk away.”
Jacobsen makes a quick throat-slash with his thumb, and the camera fades out.