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Christian_Andrews · (04-06-2018)

.:: Sometime After Savage ::.

The scene comes to life with the aroma of food storming the viewer like a cloud of fresh aromas, a distinctive and pleasant subtle smell that reminds the viewer of their own past, in momma's kitchen, waiting for dinner to finish. Inside, the restaurant came to life with printings of the town as well as paintings from local artists trying to get their name out there. Each table sat remotely close to each other, forming several perfect lines like a military celebration, while not a single of the white table clothes were remotely wrinkled. The place screamed of money while the patrons did nothing but confirm the viewer's original thought.

The place ran like normal, the servers running around trying to please each and every guest, treating them like they were the only guest in there and showing them customer service and attentiveness that attested to their small sections and their requirement to produce as much of a tip from each individual table as they could. The cooks were busy in the back cooking beyond the viewers and the patrons eye sight, while there was a single female manager who stood clearly in a business suit in the corner keeping clear sight on all that was going on throughout the floor, making sure everything was continuing to run smoothly.

However on this specific occasion, there was something a little different. Every smile seemed wider, eyes shined brighter, hair positioned more correct in each individual style, and conversations more forced to sound optimistic. It may have to do with the camera crew that has joined these unexpecting guests in their dining experience, although they weren't there for them. The crew was there for one specific man who sat near the corner, close to the exit, with a smile as wide as the nevada desert. He tilted his head sideways, welcoming the viewers and the interviewer, Steve Sayors, who was approaching his table. The man, known now clearly as Christian Andrews, was sitting Post-Savage with not a scratch on him.

(Steve): Mr. Andrews, it's a pleasure to be able to sit with you today. I know you're a busy man, but...

Christian laughs, a hearty and full laugh that cuts the words from Steve right off from the core. The interviewer was obviously caught off guard by this welcome, as the camera pawns backwards and for the first time, you're able to see Christian's attire. He's wearing a black T-Shirt that is form-fitting to his body, and some basketball shorts. Definitely a strange and seemingly out of place attire choice for a fine dining establishment such as this one. Steve struggled to regain composure before continuing on with his statement.

(Steve): Um, well as I was saying, Mr. Andrews I understand that you just finished a match about a week ago from Saturday Night Savage where you were placed into a Triple Threat matchup with two individuals that everyone questioned you about, rumor being that as a veteran and older gentleman compared to the young blood on the roster, you might have trouble keeping up with them. However as you showed on Saturday, you...

Christian's smile fades, raising a hand to Steve Sayors and quieting him down. Christian shakes his head in a no fashion, his unfortunate demeanor changing as he's realizing where Steve is going with this and he's not liking it. Christian isn't a man to talk about himself anymore, not like the way he used to be. Christian has more pressing issues, and those are the subjects that Christian wanted to address by accepting this interview request, so he attempts to steer Steve back into the right direction.

(Christian): Steve is it? With all due respect, I'm not going to gloat about my victory. A win is nothing more than a number on a page if it has no purpose of pushing a vision, relinquishing the chains that allow you to move forward and achieve the dreams you've set out to accomplish. You see, last week was about lessons. It was teaching these two individuals that perception is reality. They were mistaken in their identities, thinking that they would walk into Savage with no threat to their heir, no real challenge to their athleticism or common ideologies. Unfortunately, they were wrong. I had no intention on leaving there without the win, because that win accomplished a very simple message... Lesson Learned.

Christian looks Steve dead in the eyes, his tone and his words being picked carefully. He hints to Steve that he has said everything he intended on saying about his match last week, and it is apparent he is not one to dwell on the past. Christian smiles again as the waitress walks over to the table. Christian nods as a greeting, but motions for her to return later. The waitress gets the hint immediately, and bypassed the table, continuing to walk to the nearby group beside Christian's table.

(Steve): So Mr. Andrews, what's next then? Last week was about lessons, what's this week about? I'm not sure if you heard, but your opponents for this coming show are Calum Jason and Calib Wallace. They both have already made themselves known in their own respect, and they...

Christian laughs again, this time his laugh falls more into a mockery category than it does a genuine one. Christian shakes his head, showing his disapproval for his matches introduction. Christian picks up his water and sips it as Steve stares at him, waiting to see what Christian wanted to say.

(Christian): Trust me Steve, I've more than done my research. I've watched them both carefully as they introduced themselves to the XWF crowd, and they've made their boats that they are floating down this river called wrestling clear. It appears you want my take on them? You want to hear how I'm going to beat them down and come out a winner, right?

Steve shrugs, a common response from a fellow superstar would be quite likely after all, but it appears Christian is far from what some would call a "normal superstar." Steve smiles, knowing that he's going to get a lot more than he's bargaining for by inquiring about Christian's match, and he's curiously content with that.

(Christian): I'm not going to do that, but I think you know that already. I will say this, I'm excited that it appears these two might actually bring a fight to the table this week. I can always use a fight. However, I've done and am doing my research carefully and meticulously as I always do. The truth of the matter, is that my opponents last week fell not because they didn't bring anything to the table, but because they had nothing to show that I haven't seen and watched. Because of that, yes, I made fairly quick work of them. Hopefully these two can produce something that hasn't been seen before and together, we could take ourselves to heights we have only dreamed of reaching...

Christian shifts in his chair, his hands flying in front of him and onto the table as he leans forward, gaining Steve and everyone else within ear shot's attention. Christian's voice is slowly starting to rise, his passion betraying him, as adrenaline starts to make it's presence known.

(Christian): I have every intention on going into this match bringing everything I have to the table. While I may not have seen as much from their wrestling styles as I've heard from their mouths, and while Calib's old promotions have sank as well as any tape they had on him, it's back into the same boat as last week. It's not about them, their styles, their play attempts and what they can bring to the table, it's about me. It's about what I can bring to the table, what I can produce, and what limits I have that I can't beat. If they aren't ready, that will be on them. But as for me, and my self? I'll be ready.

Christian slams his hand down on the table, the echo of the impact proceeds through the walls and ears of the building and patrons around him. Christian smiles, a sense of joy proceeding from the mouth of adrenaline. He stands up and nods towards the female waitress that now has her attention fully on him, after that little display of affectionate conversation concerning his passions. She slowly walks toward him, chuckling slightly as she approaches him.

(Waitress): You sure do know how to put on a scene, C. Are we doing the usual?

Christian nods, laughing off the remark although a little embarrassment sneaks through his otherwise confident manner. She walks away to a nearby computer console on the wall and submits his food order, the relationship between the two becoming apparent. As a regular, or somewhat normal attendee of this restaurant, they've developed enough of a relationship that she doesn't seem at all distraught or confused about Christian's passion. Christian turns back to Steve.

(Christian): I apologize Steve, sometimes I just get really excited. Anyways, if you'll excuse me, I must eat and prepare for the future, one step at a time. This step just happens to involve food. I appreciate your time and willingness to invite me to this interview, but I must end it here. Besides, there is much more to be said and not enough words to say it in. So soon, I'll be exclaiming it from the roof top when I'm in that ring, letting my actions speak louder than my words could ever scream.

Christian waves his hand away to the side, motioning towards the door way. Steve however didn't seem very interested in ending the interview there, as he opens his mouth to protest but closes it just as quickly when he sees two men appear in the door way, dressed in black suits. Christian doesn't even give them a glimpse of his attention as he focuses downward on a tablet that he had brought out. Steve feels weird by these two men and trusting his gut, he motions toward the camera crew to follow him as they take their leave from the restaurant.

.:: Meanwhile, later on in the evening ::.

The scene spawns back to life outside of a building, a big red "24/7" sign is shown on the building's side but nothing indicating what the building may be. As the camera spans around to the front, "Well's Gym" is clearly read on the front as well as crystal blue and beach sand grey colors blend together to make up the uniform colors of the building inside. As the doors open, inside there are two young female gym attendants at the front welcoming visitors as they walk in. Over in the corner however, is what catches your eyes. Christian is seen in his typical black basketball shorts with "Andrews" written on the side in big bold white letters, and he's wearing a "No Pain, No Gain" dark blue T-Shirt with red bold lettering, yet again an interesting color combination.

The two girls in the front seem to have their attention on the big guy in the corner, Christian Andrews, as they are pointing him out to each other and whispering, laughing as they continue to admire his figure. It appears they may not completely be aware of who he is, but they seem to have put it together that he must be somebody important. The two men from earlier are standing next to him while he works out, this time they are in gym attire themselves. Both are wearing shorts and generic T-Shirts, nothing too flashly. As the camera pans in, their conversation can be clearly heard.

(Man 1): You should not have gotten involved in the X-treme Wrestling Federation. Just because you can compete with these superstars signed on, doesn't mean you necessarily should. We have so much already on our plate, and now you want to add wrestling to it?

The man sitting on the bench to his left was one of the two from earlier on in the evening, and he had no trouble making his concerns known to Christian. His voice was low, but not from tone. It appeared he lowered it to avoid snooping onlookers who may want in on their conversation. He had a somewhat northern accent as he spoke, and his words were short, precise, and sharp. The other man however didn't appear to be in agreement, at least not completely, as he stood spotting Christian on the flat bench as he pushed up his rep.

(Man 1): Think about it? What do you have left to prove Christian? You've wrestled many years, and held many titles. You've accomplished more in your career than most do through retirement, and you continue to change and effect people's lives in your every day activities and with all of our business plans we have right now...

The other man now speaks out, interrupting the man sitting on the bench. His strong southern accent was clear as y'all was the first word that echoed throughout the conversation. He didn't appear to be enjoying business talk while they were in the gym.

(Man 2): Y'all done? You just keep going on and on Nick, don't you realize? Christian isn't wrestling because he has something to prove, but because that's what he does. He pushes himself past his boundaries and always strives to be greater than he was yesterday. We all do, that's what brought us together and that's what keeps us close. Nick, you have helped us countless of times in our own adventures, both personal and business, as we have with you. Our minds together, that's what accomplishes the great feats that we never thought were possible. You remember Hawaii?

The man known as Nick, sitting on the bench, laughs but tries to shrug off the compliment by getting back to his original complaint. However, his conversational detour was stoppped before it ever got started as Christian racked his last rep and sat up.

(Christian): J has a point Nick. Hawaii, we had all been there in the spot light. We all tasted money yet we sat there at the end of our first business decision that we ran together, and we sat broke, with no money, no car on the beach pondering how the hell we got there. 10 years later, and we've not only made it, but we paved the way for those following us to expand their dreams and vision, and realize that what they consider "made it"... what we first considered it, is way too short of a dream. Why reach for the stars when we've been to the moon?

(Nick): You sure do like that saying...

Nick mumbles but doesn't push his agenda, knowing he is outnumbered 2 to 1. Keeping his head low is how he's been able to do a lot more than his brothers told him he could, but there were times he just had to make his opinion known. Unfortunately sometimes his opinion didn't matter in terms of the long run, and this was one of those times.

(Christian): I've gotten to the point in my life, to answer your question albeit even if it is undeserving of a response, that the realization has become clear to me concerning time. It's not necessarily on our side. I have something left in the tank, an offer left on the table that hasn't been closed. A chapter in my book that hasn't been finished. You know me Nick, J, I can't stop yet. Not until everything I have, every drop of blood, every ounce of breath, is left out there in the ring. This is what brought me the platform to achieve my dreams in the first place, and this is what helped shape and show me that my dreams were barely even goals, let alone the high and lofty goals that we would later achieve and still strive for. We have much more to give, why not give it?

Nick shrugs, knowing Christian has a point. "J" had finished setting the bench to an incline and adjusted the weight for Incline Presses. As Christian slides back into the incline press, calibrating his hands onto the bar for maximum efficiency, J proposes a question to Christian.

(J): So let me ask you, this Calum Jason guy is definitely interesting. I'm not sure if this man has any wrestling experience at all, but he's definitely in with the wrong crowd. Did you hear about his ties? I'm not sure which gang he's affiliated with now, in fact I'm not even sure that HE knows which gang he's affiliated with now, but as it stands the people that are backing him up aren't people you want to be messing around with man.

Christian stops at 7, grunting to push to 8 but has to rack it before he can get a full press. He sighs, deep and lowly, the frustration seeping through his breathing. He sits up off of the bench, and turns his attention to "J". Christian now smiles, a playful and competitive smile.

(Christian): I'm not concerned about his affiliations. My focus is in the ring, and my focus is on him as a wrestler, not as a person. What he does outside of the ring is none of my business, and I won't be a part of that. However, when he steps into the ring, he isn't a gang member. He isn't a man wrapped up in the wrong crowd, or an unfortunate bystander who is caught up in something bigger than himself. No, when he steps into the ring, he becomes a victor or a victim. My job, my focus, is making that choice inevitable. Making it incredibly hard to choose to be anything against me, other than a victim. My job is to redefine his identity and teach him, the ring is not where you squash personal vendettas. The ring, is where life and death hang closer in the balance than ever before. A fun fact, I firmly believe, Calum will be encountering first hand at Warfare.

Christian looks at the bar, shining from it's metal exterior and the lights surrounding it. In it's best intimidation attempt, it mocks Christian as he continues to hear "7" rehashing his earlier failure to reach that last rep. He takes a deep breath, before sliding back onto the bar and lifting it up over his nose, preparing to start.

(Nick): If we're talking about Warfare and you're competition Christian, we should probably talk about someone who sounds very similar to you.

(J): Oh yeah, Calib Winston.

(Nick): Wallace.

(J): Well butter my pickles then, does it bother you that much? Winston, Wallace, Wallaby Way Sydney.... Get over it. What matters, is this guy seems to have the mind and experience that Christian has, being a veteran of the ring. How do we prepare for someone with tons of experience, and nothing to watch to show us what we're in for when Warfare comes around?

(Christian): That's exactly it.

Christian grunts, hitting 8, then 9, then finally 10. Racking the weight, or rather, dropping it after he pushed it into a secure position, Christian slings his bodyweight forward to push himself up and off the bench. He turns and grabs his water bottle, catching his breath as J and Nick both turn to him, slightly confused by what Christian was referring to. Christian however, didn't make them wait long for an answer.

(Christian): Calib wrestled a lot of, years, matches, people... etc. However, he has nothing to show for it. He's here, at the bottom with the rest of the people who signed, needing to prove himself yet again. That's the difference between us. We may be in similar positions, but we are in very different wave lengths and thought processes. In fact, we might as well be worlds apart in difference concerning that area. I have my identity, and time will only confirm and reveal that. I have nothing to prove, I feel the need to do nothing to put value to my name. I didn't sign here for value. I don't wrestle here for worth. Something Calib stated in his press release that Derek Shanahan released stuck out to me. He asked, do I have to earn it?

Christian sighs at the remark, thinking back to the conversation he watched between Calib Wallace and his agent Derek Shanahan. He remembers how many times he rewinded it to that part, watching Calib's every facial retort, every subconscious movement that Calib's posture betrayed as he spoke, his anger and frustration showing a very clear and very insecure exposure of his heart, his identity. Calib didn't like, as most wouldn't, his character and his worth being called into question. Christian understood that feeling personally, but he also saw the bigger picture.

(Christian): Calib struggled with his identity there. He struggled to figure out who he was again, and I can relate to that with both of us being out of the game for so long. In fact, I questioned that very thing when I stepped into that ring last week. But I realized quickly when I was there, it was like riding a bike. Ring rust is a myth to legends, getting warmed up doesn't exist to those who are already on fire with passion. There's something I noticed about Calib, and actually about Calum as well. They both seemed to have passion. One of his own name, the other for his own security, but they both carried passion with them. But as I said before, there are levels to greatness. Levels to passion. Levels to fire...

Christian leans forward, staring at both J and Nick, his eyes dancing back and forth between the two, his smile growing but his stare intensifying. His words start grabbing at their throats, his tone piercing their ears as they leaned forward mimicing Christian's body language, a sign of respect and admonishment.

(Christian): I will bring to the ring the same thing I always do, my fire that burns is an inferno. And like every fire, when it brushes against anything opposing it, it consumes it. If they bring anything to the table less than everything that resides deep inside their being, they too will be consumed. There is no room for insecurity, there is no room for fear of safety, or for wondering who is out there waiting for you after the match. Your attention must 100% be consumed by the match with me, or we will 100% consume you. Both of you. Any sign of weakness, any glimmer of an opening, and you will find yourself playing with fire.... and You. Will. Be. Burned.

Christian laughs, not a maniacal laugh, but a competitive one. He shrugs his shoulders, tilting his head sideways and smiling. The excitement, the passion, the longing for Warfare... all of it comes rushing to the front. It reminds him of his past, of how he used to be, and of how he is finding himself there again. He stands up, almost jumping to his feet, turning to leave as J and Nick stand up with him, trying to keep up with his zeal.

(Waitress): You're not leaving without stretching, are you C?

Christian is caught off guard, but his competitive smile turns to a playful one as he turns and looks toward the door way to the Massage and Stretching rooms. Standing in the door way is a familiar face, the waitress from earlier on. She's smiling, her cheeks flushing as Christian's eyes meet hers. Christian chuckles at the shy look that flashes across her face, knowing he's turned toward her.

(Christian): I'd never dream of it.

.:: End Scene ::.

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