Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Apr 6, 2013 10:20:42 GMT -6
Rob Diamond. Seeing your name on the card again…it’s surreal. Seeing you in a match against me…that crosses beyond surreal. That’s…that’s something I didn’t know I’d ever see again.
Truth be told, we weren’t sure where you’d gone. Sometimes I thought about it. But I didn’t agonize over things. After all, you’re Rob Diamond. You can take care of yourself. And here you are, with a bad attitude, a daughter, and your sights set on the top of the mountain. Just like I figured you’d be.
You were never the kind of guy who was content with being just another face in the crowd. You hated being shackled to Nelly Angel, you resented laboring away for months on end with nothing to show for it…you wanted to be World Champion. And you got your wish. You got your big moment, you got to end A Night To Remember with everything perfect…and the moment you lost it, you wanted it back.
Truth be told, if I was watching literally anyone else in the company go up against you I’d be pulling for you. But we both want the same thing. We want that World Title. But where you want it because that’s the only thing you think can validate you…I want it because even with Xander and you and everyone else gunning for the big one, I still know that I can be the man to take Roberto Verona down.
Maybe it’s a hero complex. Maybe I need to see myself as saving the company from the villain, maybe I need to be that crusader even when there’s nothing to crusade against. But I’m ready to break myself to be the man that NCW ends on. I want to be the last thing they see, holding that title high above my head…I want to show the world that the heroes can win.
We’re both walking down the same road, Rob. We’re in each other’s way. I missed you. You and Steve treated me like crap, but…at the end of the day, I still got a feeling from you. That you weren’t all the bastard you seemed, at least not always. I’d go to hell and back for you. You’re my friend. But you’re right. Sentiment has to stop when we enter the ring.
I want the best fight you’ve got, because anything else would be an insult to both of us. I want you to lay into me like you wanted me dead. I don’t want to feel like I’m coasting or taking the easy path, because it won’t be the same at the end of the road. Even if the destination is the same, the journey’ll be…lacking.
This isn’t just about beating the crap out of each other, or Infamous, or even the World Title. This is about respect. This is about who people see when we walk out from behind that curtain and who we see in the mirror every morning. I know I can look the man I see in the eye. And I know you want to as well. You want it that bad, you want it more than you’ve wanted anything before…so get your ass in that ring and let’s wrestle the only way we know how to.
Let’s tear that mother down.
We open on Andrew, sitting in the reception area of an office. He pulls out his phone, checking the time, and unlocks it. As he’s moving to pull up the browser, his thumb strays across the camera application. It opens to the camera roll, and Andrew begins browsing with detached interest. He scrolls through some images of his family, smiling as photos of his parents come up. His smile fades a bit as he comes upon one of them with his sister, Callie. His mind flashes to Metamorphosis, and he shakes his head. He scrolls along to one of him with his siblings, and shakes his head again. Even though all three of them look happy in the photo (well, happy and whatever Callie wanted to pass for happy), he can’t help but think of everything that’s happened to them thanks to NCW. As he ponders, though, the door opens, and he looks up. Danielle steps out of the office, looking over at him.
”Andrew…you know you could have just come in, right? Nothing’s more important than working with one of my best clients.”
He grins, nodding wearily, and stands, pocketing his phone quickly.
”Yeah, I just didn’t want to disturb you. You got a few?”
Danielle nods, gesturing him into her office. Andrew takes the invitation, walking inside, and Chase closes the door behind them. She walks back around her desk, and Andrew sits in the chair in front of it. Danielle sits behind her desk, looking over her glasses at him with a smile.
”Alright, what’s on your mind? What can Dr. Chase’s Completely Unlicensed Therapy do to ease your mind?”
He sighs, looking down for a few seconds. Andrew rubs the bridge of his nose, looking back up at Danielle with something between a grin and a despairing look.
”I…I guess I’m having a hard time coming to grips with things. We’re on borrowed time, Danielle, and I don’t know that I’m even going to be in the Coliseum. I’m one week from the match that might decide how NCW ends. Everyone wants to be the man. Everyone thinks they’ve got Verona dead to rights, and I just…”
He falls silent, shaking his head again, and pulls his phone out of his pocket, spinning around in his hand and looking down as he speaks quietly.
”If I don’t make it into the Coliseum, what do I do? Where do I go? I just need some advice here. Slap me straight, tell me whether I’m making sense. Do what you do so well. Be my brains.”
Danielle can’t resist the urge to sigh there, shaking her head as he delivers another self-deprecating comment. She leans across the table a bit, reaching out and tilting Andrew’s head up with her finger. Andrew looks up into her eyes, and she smiles softly, pulling her hand back. Andrew rests his hands on the desk, setting his phone down, and folds his fingers together.
”Better. Now, it’s good to see you’re sticking to your guns. What it’s not good to see is you getting self-doubting again. You’re better than that. If you don’t get into the Coliseum—which I’m pretty sure you will—then so what? You can solidify your legacy in other ways. Hey, what if you challenged James Warren for the X Title? Beat him…”
She leans back, folding her hands together now. However, whereas Andrew’s were clasped almost in the manner of a praying man, hers are held differently. She has a scheming grin on her face, and her posture reflects that. The pin is in the air, and she finally lets the pin drop when she speaks again.
”…and you’re suddenly only the second Grand Slam Champion in NCW history. And unless Alex Jones wins the World Title at Sovereign or A Night To Remember, odds are you’d be the only one to achieve that. How’s that for a backup plan?”
Andrew grins, liking the sound of it. He nods to her, and Danielle grins back at him. Jacobsen shifts in his seat, looking over at a calendar Danielle has hanging on her wall. His expression subtly shifts, and Andrew looks to her, grinning apologetically.
”Hey, I want to keep talking, but I have to, ah, take care of something. Be right back.”
Danielle nods, and Andrew stands, walking to the door and ducking out. Chase watches him go for a few seconds, but her gaze is slowly drawn to where his phone lies. She reaches out carefully, picking it up, and flips it over. The camera is still open, and the picture it’s stopped on is a Jacobsen holiday photo: Andrea and Jason, Rick, Callie, Cassandra, Molly, Andrew, and Emma standing next to him. All of them are smiling, and Andrew looks legitimately happy, something we haven’t seen from him in a long time. She stares at the photo for a few seconds, then puts the phone down, sighing and leaning back. Danielle brings her thumbs up to rub the bridge of her nose, and we fade out on her troubled expression.
All around me are familiar faces, but…there’s something wrong about them. They’re twisted reflections of who they were. I’ve seen almost everyone I know warped by this business. Friends become enemies. Family turns from you. People who you thought you knew turn out to be something different underneath it all. And I always hear people ask me the same question: how can you do it? How do you go through so much and not just snap? I…I honestly don’t know some days. Sometimes, I get up and I look at where I am, who I’m near…
And I find it kind of funny. Not humorous, though. Bitterly funny. People think that I just have this innate quality about me, this…this superhuman ability to withstand any trauma that comes my way, and…I don’t. I can’t just shrug everything off. I’m still carrying the wounds of what’s happened to me and the people I know for the last three and a half years. It’s not easy. I can’t look at my parents, my siblings, my friends without thinking about what I’ve done to them and what’s been done to them because of who I am.
I find it kind of sad. I’ve always talked about doing right by the people that are important to me, and yet every time I turn around it seems that they’ve been dragged into a situation where they’re being hurt. I’m sick of it. But I have to keep soldiering on. Because I can’t let myself fail. I can’t abandon my ideals. If someone threatens those who I care about, if ever I see a friend in need, I won’t let myself run away from the danger. I won’t abandon them. Because that’s not the kind of man I am.
Rob, you’re better than you give yourself credit for. Even if you’re not the World Champion, people still recognize your name. They still say “that’s Rob Diamond!” and freak out like schoolgirls when you walk by. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. Take pride in what you’ve done…who you’ve become. What you are. You’re Rob MFing Diamond, and nothing I or anyone else does can take that from you. I could invent a thousand things to say to just fill dead air, and none of them would be meaningful...so I’ll say the one thing I have in mind that has meaning.
Bring your best. I’ll bring mine. And may the best man win.
Truth be told, we weren’t sure where you’d gone. Sometimes I thought about it. But I didn’t agonize over things. After all, you’re Rob Diamond. You can take care of yourself. And here you are, with a bad attitude, a daughter, and your sights set on the top of the mountain. Just like I figured you’d be.
You were never the kind of guy who was content with being just another face in the crowd. You hated being shackled to Nelly Angel, you resented laboring away for months on end with nothing to show for it…you wanted to be World Champion. And you got your wish. You got your big moment, you got to end A Night To Remember with everything perfect…and the moment you lost it, you wanted it back.
Truth be told, if I was watching literally anyone else in the company go up against you I’d be pulling for you. But we both want the same thing. We want that World Title. But where you want it because that’s the only thing you think can validate you…I want it because even with Xander and you and everyone else gunning for the big one, I still know that I can be the man to take Roberto Verona down.
Maybe it’s a hero complex. Maybe I need to see myself as saving the company from the villain, maybe I need to be that crusader even when there’s nothing to crusade against. But I’m ready to break myself to be the man that NCW ends on. I want to be the last thing they see, holding that title high above my head…I want to show the world that the heroes can win.
We’re both walking down the same road, Rob. We’re in each other’s way. I missed you. You and Steve treated me like crap, but…at the end of the day, I still got a feeling from you. That you weren’t all the bastard you seemed, at least not always. I’d go to hell and back for you. You’re my friend. But you’re right. Sentiment has to stop when we enter the ring.
I want the best fight you’ve got, because anything else would be an insult to both of us. I want you to lay into me like you wanted me dead. I don’t want to feel like I’m coasting or taking the easy path, because it won’t be the same at the end of the road. Even if the destination is the same, the journey’ll be…lacking.
This isn’t just about beating the crap out of each other, or Infamous, or even the World Title. This is about respect. This is about who people see when we walk out from behind that curtain and who we see in the mirror every morning. I know I can look the man I see in the eye. And I know you want to as well. You want it that bad, you want it more than you’ve wanted anything before…so get your ass in that ring and let’s wrestle the only way we know how to.
Let’s tear that mother down.
We open on Andrew, sitting in the reception area of an office. He pulls out his phone, checking the time, and unlocks it. As he’s moving to pull up the browser, his thumb strays across the camera application. It opens to the camera roll, and Andrew begins browsing with detached interest. He scrolls through some images of his family, smiling as photos of his parents come up. His smile fades a bit as he comes upon one of them with his sister, Callie. His mind flashes to Metamorphosis, and he shakes his head. He scrolls along to one of him with his siblings, and shakes his head again. Even though all three of them look happy in the photo (well, happy and whatever Callie wanted to pass for happy), he can’t help but think of everything that’s happened to them thanks to NCW. As he ponders, though, the door opens, and he looks up. Danielle steps out of the office, looking over at him.
”Andrew…you know you could have just come in, right? Nothing’s more important than working with one of my best clients.”
He grins, nodding wearily, and stands, pocketing his phone quickly.
”Yeah, I just didn’t want to disturb you. You got a few?”
Danielle nods, gesturing him into her office. Andrew takes the invitation, walking inside, and Chase closes the door behind them. She walks back around her desk, and Andrew sits in the chair in front of it. Danielle sits behind her desk, looking over her glasses at him with a smile.
”Alright, what’s on your mind? What can Dr. Chase’s Completely Unlicensed Therapy do to ease your mind?”
He sighs, looking down for a few seconds. Andrew rubs the bridge of his nose, looking back up at Danielle with something between a grin and a despairing look.
”I…I guess I’m having a hard time coming to grips with things. We’re on borrowed time, Danielle, and I don’t know that I’m even going to be in the Coliseum. I’m one week from the match that might decide how NCW ends. Everyone wants to be the man. Everyone thinks they’ve got Verona dead to rights, and I just…”
He falls silent, shaking his head again, and pulls his phone out of his pocket, spinning around in his hand and looking down as he speaks quietly.
”If I don’t make it into the Coliseum, what do I do? Where do I go? I just need some advice here. Slap me straight, tell me whether I’m making sense. Do what you do so well. Be my brains.”
Danielle can’t resist the urge to sigh there, shaking her head as he delivers another self-deprecating comment. She leans across the table a bit, reaching out and tilting Andrew’s head up with her finger. Andrew looks up into her eyes, and she smiles softly, pulling her hand back. Andrew rests his hands on the desk, setting his phone down, and folds his fingers together.
”Better. Now, it’s good to see you’re sticking to your guns. What it’s not good to see is you getting self-doubting again. You’re better than that. If you don’t get into the Coliseum—which I’m pretty sure you will—then so what? You can solidify your legacy in other ways. Hey, what if you challenged James Warren for the X Title? Beat him…”
She leans back, folding her hands together now. However, whereas Andrew’s were clasped almost in the manner of a praying man, hers are held differently. She has a scheming grin on her face, and her posture reflects that. The pin is in the air, and she finally lets the pin drop when she speaks again.
”…and you’re suddenly only the second Grand Slam Champion in NCW history. And unless Alex Jones wins the World Title at Sovereign or A Night To Remember, odds are you’d be the only one to achieve that. How’s that for a backup plan?”
Andrew grins, liking the sound of it. He nods to her, and Danielle grins back at him. Jacobsen shifts in his seat, looking over at a calendar Danielle has hanging on her wall. His expression subtly shifts, and Andrew looks to her, grinning apologetically.
”Hey, I want to keep talking, but I have to, ah, take care of something. Be right back.”
Danielle nods, and Andrew stands, walking to the door and ducking out. Chase watches him go for a few seconds, but her gaze is slowly drawn to where his phone lies. She reaches out carefully, picking it up, and flips it over. The camera is still open, and the picture it’s stopped on is a Jacobsen holiday photo: Andrea and Jason, Rick, Callie, Cassandra, Molly, Andrew, and Emma standing next to him. All of them are smiling, and Andrew looks legitimately happy, something we haven’t seen from him in a long time. She stares at the photo for a few seconds, then puts the phone down, sighing and leaning back. Danielle brings her thumbs up to rub the bridge of her nose, and we fade out on her troubled expression.
All around me are familiar faces, but…there’s something wrong about them. They’re twisted reflections of who they were. I’ve seen almost everyone I know warped by this business. Friends become enemies. Family turns from you. People who you thought you knew turn out to be something different underneath it all. And I always hear people ask me the same question: how can you do it? How do you go through so much and not just snap? I…I honestly don’t know some days. Sometimes, I get up and I look at where I am, who I’m near…
And I find it kind of funny. Not humorous, though. Bitterly funny. People think that I just have this innate quality about me, this…this superhuman ability to withstand any trauma that comes my way, and…I don’t. I can’t just shrug everything off. I’m still carrying the wounds of what’s happened to me and the people I know for the last three and a half years. It’s not easy. I can’t look at my parents, my siblings, my friends without thinking about what I’ve done to them and what’s been done to them because of who I am.
I find it kind of sad. I’ve always talked about doing right by the people that are important to me, and yet every time I turn around it seems that they’ve been dragged into a situation where they’re being hurt. I’m sick of it. But I have to keep soldiering on. Because I can’t let myself fail. I can’t abandon my ideals. If someone threatens those who I care about, if ever I see a friend in need, I won’t let myself run away from the danger. I won’t abandon them. Because that’s not the kind of man I am.
Rob, you’re better than you give yourself credit for. Even if you’re not the World Champion, people still recognize your name. They still say “that’s Rob Diamond!” and freak out like schoolgirls when you walk by. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. Take pride in what you’ve done…who you’ve become. What you are. You’re Rob MFing Diamond, and nothing I or anyone else does can take that from you. I could invent a thousand things to say to just fill dead air, and none of them would be meaningful...so I’ll say the one thing I have in mind that has meaning.
Bring your best. I’ll bring mine. And may the best man win.