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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Relentless Day 2 RP Board 2019
My Fantasy is Your Nightmare
Author Message
Tony Santos Offline
Santos Glares at You



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#1
09-20-2019, 08:58 PM



The scene opens...



...light shining over the sweaty forehead of a woman who quickly popped into scene. Her upper body jolted up like a catapult, her throat sinking into her chest, trying to catch her breath on an oddly hot evening in Boston. She sits in front of the camera, unable to move, long, brown, and incredibly drenched hair sticking to her skin. Her eyes stare through the camera, panic piercing her pupils like a fine needle.

Her heart beats through her gullet, a consistent pulse beating through the hole in her throat. It pounds against her skin like a drum pedal ramming against a roaring bass drum... if it were trying to flee the scene. Her left eyelid twitches, either due to high blood pressure or recent substance abuse...

...or maybe just too much alcoho...

She stops, sweat still pouring down her face.

Kayla: Not the booze. Trust me, it's not... the booze.

We find ourselves... on a mattress. A bare mattress, on the floor of a studio apartment. Used cigarettes line the floor, ash trails leading from the bathroom to the "bed." A distinct smell of bleach permeates the apartment, even tingling your senses through the camera. The walls are pale white, the ceilings the same. Spider webs line practically all corners, a fly struggling to escape seen in the distance.

Tony smiles, even in his unconscious state. He knows a recovering drunk, just by the smell. Tony lays flat on the... bed... eyes closed, hair draped back. He's spent the night dreaming. The dream spectrum started with Tony reliving childhood memories of football games, the kid playing running back, who was constantly crushed by opposing 12-year-old linebackers, and the basketball games, where a lanky, yet tall, Tony Santos would hit the court with ease, a many elbow and knee injuries as marks of accomplishment. It all fits into the Tony Santos who lived in a small part of Boston, bullied and bruised. A Tony Santos who was abused by his peers, let alone his dead parents, who found himself...



Gasping for air.

Tony awakens, catapulting towards the camera like Kayla before him. Sweat similarly rolls off of his forehead, his heart beating just as strong, as his pupils dilate.

Tony breathes.

And breathes.

And... breathes.

Tony begins to look around the room, trying to understand his current situation and how he made it on to this mattress. Then, a flashback...

Quote:A king size bed, with the AA-esque organizer. Her name is Kayla. Tony managed to fall to the ground, and she picked himself up. She found him. She saved him. She'd saved him.

Tony lays in bed, naked from head to toe, blanket covering his chest. His... vacant... eyes, stare at the ceiling. He felt good, he felt right. But he felt... conflicted. He hadn't had a drink, but he felt a gut punch, like a 50 pound weight was sitting on his chest. Like a ball of pain and shame were weighing him down. Like he was being tested to be better. Like he was being...

Reborn.

The organizer smiles, draping her arm over Tony's rapidly dilating chest, as the scene fades to black.

Tony sits in position, staring a thousand miles ahead. Each individual blink resonates with the sound of a thousand camera shutters. He shakes his head, removing himself from the minor agony of his past life, returning himself to the present. There, he finds the woman who was supposed to lead him to success. The woman who was supposed to take him from his most vulnerable place, and place him in his safest. But she had betrayed his trust. An Alcoholics Anonymous... (ish)... organizer wasn't supposed to engage with participants personally in the session, let alone outside of it.

But here we are. South Boston, Massachusetts, in a dingy studio apartment, two recovering addicts... yes, an instructor is still a recovering addict... sleeping together. Tony vented some frustrations, Kayla took advantage. Kayla provided some help, Tony took advantage. Two addicts found a hole, and they dove right in.

Back to the present.



Kayla gasps again, and then begins to pant. Her left hand clenches the mattress, her bones jutting through. Sweat starts to make its way through her underwear and into the mattress, the underlying anxiety overtaking her. She looks to her right, then her left, and...

...sees Tony.

She stares at Tony, her chest rapidly compressing and decompressing. Her eyes begin to droop, her heart rate begins to drop. She sees the man from the night before, and is... calm.

Kayla: How did you...

Tony smiles, still staring up at the ceiling.

Santos: Get here?

Kayla nods.

Santos: I was told to be here, like the champion I am, and the professional god damn certainly am. I was...

Tony falls on his face, hitting the hardwood floor.

Santos: ...humbled.

Tony lays against the hardwood floor, his cheek pressed against the floor boards, just like he was set against the pavement many times before. His left cheek lays against the ground, the gravel scratching the cheek of the man above it. His right cheek feels the cool, calm air of freedom, people having stepped over his face with seeming envy.

Tony smiles.

Santos:Do you even want to try?

Kayla smiles at Tony, realizing his very obvious flaws.

Kayla:Tony, what do you think of...

Tony raises a hand, smiling. He has an index finger standing between him and his lady, when he hears a knock.

***Knock, knock, knock***

Tony smiles, ands, and lets the scene face to black.

September 2013 and May 2019 Star of the Month
1x Hart Champion
1x Television Champion
1x Xtreme Champion

[Image: VIh61T5.jpg]
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