Parker Wayde [vs.] Vanessa Cade

The library of former IWF superstar, not to mention former member of the living, appears more messed up than it was during Parker's recording for Fallout. Books are now leaning on the shelves, a sign that Parker has been slowly but surely removing items from their rightful place, possibly looking for something. He sits at the desk, feet up where the monitor used to be, with one of the displaced books opened in his hand.

Parker: There is a tide in the affairs of men. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.

He pauses after the first two sentence of the well known passage. Anyone that knows the words knows that it isn't something that you just happen upon when thumbing through a random book. Who, in their right mind, just wants to thumb through Julius Caesar's fourth act? This is something that Parker planned. A message that he wanted the people to hear. Taking that into consideration, he has to have a point. Doesn't he? Moments pass as the viewers are left to wonder but abruptly he starts talking again, snapped from his daze.

Parker: Parker has never been a big reader, at least not when it comes to leisurely reading. Sure, opponents might take that as a sign of low intellect. "All Parker is, is muscle, no brains to be found". I have heard it before. Almost as much as I have heard people talk about me lacking in ring skill. Make no mistake about it. Parker is not stupid, and Parker is an NCAA All-American in wrestling. People that talk about Parker like he is some retarded dancing monkey haven't paid any attention to the things that I have done in this company since I have been here. Have their been stumbles on the road? Sure there have. Have their been successes that nobody in this company or even in this industry saw coming? Sure. Did anyone think Parker would be Full Throttle Champ? Did anyone think Parker could win the High Impact championship? Did anyone bet on Parker beating Robbie Hart when he was the best this company had to offer? No. The successes have made headlines. The setbacks? Easily forgotten.

He places the book on the table, it feels out of place. Such a small and thin book alone on an executive size desk. It seems to simple. A waste of space almost. Parker takes his legs down and turns towards the camera, speaking directly to those that are watching.

Parker: There is a tide in the affairs of men. There are opportunities that come knocking on your door but once in a lifetime. My career has been full of these moments, in such a short time. Seizing my contract by stabbing a friend in the back. Joining Natural Law. Winning the Full Throttle Championship the hard way instead of taking out some faceless curtain jerker to do it. Leaving the Full Throttle division behind to walk on to High Impact Gold. Beating the World Champion. Stepping into the ring with Stygian even though everyone told me not to. I have taken my chances. I have followed the tide that has driven my career and I have been a party to its fortune. I took every opportunity given to me. I took on all comers, I fought my way through the crowd. Yet all I hear is that Parker isn't good enough to be where he is at.

Parker finishes his spiel and looks down at the book, almost with a hurt look in his eyes. Could all of the negativity be wearing him down? Parker Wayde, "the instant impact", the kid that was crazier than Jinx, the wrecking ball in IWF, the High Impact champion, seemed to look tired for once. After all for every person patting the kid on the back there were ten saying he wasn't as good enough to deserve the push. For every person he converted into a believer in his abilities there were a dozen that had already written him off. These thoughts seem to weigh on his mind as he reads the next line in the book.

Parker: Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.

Looking back up and finding the camera he stares into it as if he can see the people that doubt him looking back through the eye piece. The look on his face changes. There is no intensity that we see when he is in the ring, but there is also none of the doubt that was in his eyes as he read the passage. There is the quiet resolve of a kid that just started out in this business. There is an underlying hunger to continue proving people wrong. There is a silent satisfaction, as if he knows something that the audience does not.

Parker: To me, this doesn't sound like anything I have done since signing with this company. However there are names that come to mind. James Shark, for instance, missed the boat on stepping into the ring with Parker because he was afraid. Ashten Cross missed his opportunity to crush Parker back in his debut, when it was possible to stop him. Jinx has been nothing but a miserable shell of himself since I took his Full Throttle Championship, a title that I handed off to some no name before I beat her worse than she had ever been beaten before.Every single person that tried to make a name for themselves by stepping in the ring with me have failed. I have made them miserable in that ring. I have broken their bones. I have made them tap out. I have knocked them unconscious.

The flash in Parker's eyes that has been missing since going two rounds with Jinx starts to spark as he talks. Almost as if Parker is finally digging inside himself to try and pull out some of that fire. He had gone all out against the clown. He had stepped into the ring with a man that had inspired him to let into those dark and slightly off tilt urges within himself. Parker had become a wrecking ball in that time. He did things in the ring that people in the front few rows had to turn away from instead of watching. He had taken himself to his limits outside the ring by handing over people to their executions. He had been driven to be an unfeeling machine by Marie Daniels and since she was gone, and he was free..... the fire had gone out little by little. Parker had let his guard down. He had softened his tactics in the ring. He had started to do something that in the first months of his career he had not done: lose. However at this moment he seemed to be finding that part of himself again. He was becoming dangerous. Parker was going to that place where he didn't care how much pain he caused another as long as he could walk away with his arm in the air.

Parker: On such a full sea are we now afloat, and we must take the current when it serves,or lose our ventures.

He speaks the last phrase slowly. Allowing time in between each word so that the phrase hangs in the air. Parker finally seems to put the exclamation mark on what he is trying to say, and he does it in a way that it doesn't seem he had anticipated on.

Parker: So many bodies have passed through IWF lately. So many incoming talents. So many people coming in for one last match. This roster really is just like a full sea. Some of us, are managing to float on the top, watching as so many others drown. To be honest, I don't feel bad for a single one of them. These people that come to IWF, talk a big game, only to find themselves in over their heads and gasping for their last breaths. I was that person with a boot on their head, holding their airways under the water. That, in essence, is the job of the Full Throttle Champion. That is the job of the Uprising Champion. You stop those small fries from rising to the top and you watch them drown. Actually.... watch them in an understatement. It is much more personal than that. You hold their throat. You force their shoulders below the surface of the water. You watch the very life fade from their eyes. As the champion of the new blood that comes in the doors, you play the judge, jury and executioner. Parker took the current when it served. I handed that cursed belt off to the first person that wanted it and I got the hell away from such a bottom rung job. I did not lose my venture. I did not fade into obscurity. When I handed off that title it was charity. Not for Vanessa Cade, but charity to myself. I did Parker's career the biggest favor of anyone. I showed myself the way to break through the top tier of the roster.

Parker gets up from his seat and walks around to the front of the desk. He ignores the camera like he is done talking, and just as he is about to walk out of the frame he stops. If the camera were tilted higher it would show the world how Parker hangs his head in disgust as he mutters his last offering to the fans.

Parker: I will be the first person to say that I am not quite there yet.... but I will also be the only one not surprised when I am standing at the top and looking down on all of you.

The lights in the room switch off, and the video ends without another word.

Maybe just once I will be able to walk through the backstage area and the media won't be blocking my path. Maybe for one night I won't have to answer the questions that they don't even want to ask. Maybe tonight, I won't have to be their time killer why they wait on Stygian or Steel Angel to walk by. The only thing worse than being made to answer stupid questions is the knowing that while you are wasting your time they are just biding theirs. At any moment you will be ditched for the bigger, better scoop and left to wonder why you didn't just lower your head and walk away. This happens every time.... Maybe once it will be different. Maybe that night is tonight.

Parker steps out of his car in the parking lot. He looks up at the arena in front of him, knowing that just in a few short hours people will line up outside the doors just waiting for their chance to get inside and boo the hell out of him. The lines haven't formed yet, but Parker would have given anything to see them there. To have a chance to feed off of their hatred for him before he had to deal with the reporters. Get a quick injection of "dont give a fuck" before dealing with the bureaucratic bullshit that comes with being part of the roster. He could stand their with his car door open and wish for it to happen, but it wasn't going to. It never did. There was nothing that was going to make his walk any easier. Plain and simple Parker hates people. He is not a car salesman. He is not a man of many words. He would rather just do his job and then go home after, but that isn't how the industry works anymore. Their has to be a character behind everything that he does. If he didn't find one, eventually everyone was going to realize he was just a great in ring competitor with no character upside. Say goodbye to the title shots, and hello to the faceless bodyguard role. He wasn't going to settle for that. That is why he joined Natural Law. That is why he called out main event stars. Parker needed some flash to offer these people. He did it with surprise. Still, that is only a temporary fix to the problem. He didn't have these moments every week to deflect the naysayers. Every show was a challenge. One that started as soon as his gym bag was on his shoulder and the door of his car was closed. He thought about all of this as he slammed the door and walked towards the parking garage doors.

Headphones. Didn't that used to work when I was at wrestling meets? When he didn't want to listen to all of the noise around him, just throw in a couple of earbuds and walk straight through the crowd without acknowledging anyone. Of course, then he had to deal with everyone thinking the worst. Maybe he was injured. Maybe he was unprepared. Maybe he lacked the confidence that was necessary to win. No. avoidance wasn't going to be an option. In order to get to the locker room where I can get some peace and quiet before that bell rings, I have to put on a happy face.

The elevator from the parking garage opened right into the backstage area. It was too early for fans to be lining up and trying to get autographs as the stars walked through security, and that was the reason why Parker showed up at this time every week. The less people he had to deal with, the better he felt. He nods absent mindedly to the security staff and they allow him through without any discussion. He turns the corner ahead, knowing that in his sight would be his finish line, but that in order to get there he would have to go through the mob.

If I was smart I would probably just stay in the car until show time. Too late for that now I suppose, already committed.

He turned the corner, facing his fate, but to his surprise there was nobody there to meet him. The circle area in the middle of the stretch of hallway was devoid of life. The regular group of media personnel seemingly have taken the day off. Parker perks up. His strides get longer. His feet don't point in towards each other with every step, as if trying to delay the inevitable. Is gym bad doesn't seem so heavy anymore. The weight is off of his shoulders and the promised land is within his reach without having to wade through bullshit to get there. Just feet from his door, already starting to reach out his hand for the door he hears the last thing that he wanted to hear.

Reporter: I noticed a pattern of you trying to sneak in here earlier and earlier each week. Almost like you didn't want to talk to us Mr. Wayde. Any particular reason for that?

Parker: Do you honestly have to ask?

Parker didn't even turn around before answering the question. Already the feeling of nausea was starting to come back. His bag was feeling heavier. His legs didn't want to move.

Reporter: I also figured out that you started arriving later and later the week it was announce that your former associate was dead and gone. Some car crash I think it was. I started thinking to myself that maybe you were avoiding us while you grieved about the loss.... but that doesn't seem to be the right answer. I think you are avoiding us for a different reason.

Parker:And what would that be?

The longer that this conversation wore on, the more likely it was that Parker could get himself into trouble. He really just wanted to turn the handle. He had taken another step while the man was talking, and now had the doorknob in his hand. The old brass of the knob, and the scratches that had been worn into it over the years of its use felt so comforting to him.

Reporter: I think you already know the answer to that question Parker. After all, a grieving friend wouldn't be recording videos of a dead man's study room now would he? A grieving friend wouldn't have been able to come to work where he spent so much time with his former associate. A grieving friend would have a hard time winning multiple championships during such a hard time.

Parker: What can I say, I guess I really am the heartless bastard that you see on television.

Parker could hear the words ring false, even as they left him mouth. He wanted them to be true, but knew that deep down inside, they weren't. He hoped whoever the hell this guy was would get the point and simply walk away. Parker crossed his fingers that he sounded more sure of himself than he felt. Parker could not let the conversation continue. He had to put an end to it now.

Parker: I have a match tonight that I need to get ready for. So unless you have something that you want to say....

Reporter: Oh I have quite a lot that I want to say Mr. Wayde. I have a lot of questions that I bet you would be able to answer for me. I will play your game though. I will let you go into your little room and wait until it is time for your match. We both know that all you are doing is making an excuse to leave. I just want you to know that no matter how early you show up, no matter what route you take through the arena, every single week I will be here. You can only avoid talking to me for so long. Eventually you will have no choice but to have a real conversation with me.

Parker: What makes you so sure of that?

Parker didn't wait for a response. He couldn't. He turned the door and stepped into the room. As the door closed behind him he fell backwards against it, dropping his bag to the floor as he did. Was that really the reason he had started to avoid answering questions? Had he unconsciously convinced himself of a false reality where talking to them was just a waste of time? Had Parker lied to himself so many times that he had started to believe it? He could dwell on these thoughts all night... but there was a job that he had to do. He had a bitch that needed to be taught a lesson not to mess with him. If only the beating he gave her last time had been sufficient, maybe he could have avoided that conversation.