The Willis Tower. It’s one of the tallest buildings in the entire world. However, even at 1,450 feet tall it barely scrapes the surface of the universe out there. While it may be a giant in its own little world, it is but a mere blip on the radar of life.
That is exactly how Desmond LeRoux feels today. There isn’t a person in the world who gives a damn about him right now. While he may be a giant in his own little world after being successful in his first match as a member of High Octane Wrestling, he’s worth nothing more than the wad of pink bubble gum that is stuck to the bottom of Random Gentleman #233’s left black and gray Nike shoe as he sits on a Chicago city bus.
It’s dusk in Chicago, Illinois. 6:41 PM local time to be exact. The wind, blowing at a brisk 16.2 miles per hour, leaves a minor bite in the air when combined with the city’s frigid 43 degrees Fahrenheit. A storm is to roll in later in the evening, leaving the city wet and cold. Despite all of this, a man stands at the base of the Willis Tower looking up at its great stature. This man, as we would guess, is Desmond LeRoux himself. LeRoux has used a hefty portion of his first paycheck from High Octane Wrestling to purchase some clothing appropriate for this type of weather: some beige Timberland ankle-high boots; a pair of acid-washed blue jeans made by 7 For All Mankind; a brown faux alligator-skin belt; a pink Ralph Lauren polo; a tan Vineyard Vines fleece quarter-zip jacket; and a black New Era brand New Orleans Saints flat-billed snapback hat, which sits on top of his head backwards. Despite the setting sun, LeRoux looks up at the building through his dark Iverness Ray Ban sunglasses. He takes a deep breath and then exhales, a visible cloud of warm air escaping his mouth before he finally breaks his silence.
LeRoux: “Over 222,000 tons of mass stands in front of me. It’s a building that I only dreamed of seeing in person while growing up in Goosport. But as big and magnificent as this structure is, it’s far from the best in the world. It’s facts like that which give me hope in this business. I didn’t journey away from home and into High Octane thinking that I would be the biggest and the baddest, especially not from day one. I knew that my small stature would not compare to the majority of this roster, nor would my lack of experience inside of a wrestling ring. But beauty comes in many shapes and sizes. The display that I put on at the last episode of Refueled was just a microcosm of the things that I can provide for this company.”
LeRoux finally removes his gaze from the structure. He turns and looks at the camera, lowering his Ray Bans in the process.
LeRoux: “Sean Stevens, you found out first-hand exactly what I bring to the table. While I showed plenty of moments of inexperience and newness, my raw talent and ability are what took me over the edge to get the victory. Now, it’s been a full month since that night and I have been training inside of a proper wrestling facility ever since. And here we find ourselves fighting, once again, in the Windy City against one another. Surely, the powers-that-be saw enough out of me to book me at Refueled Fifty-Six. But I am no dummy, as you should know. They saw enough in you, Sean, to grant you this rematch. They knew that you could very well have beaten me on that night… so why not give you a second chance?”
LeRoux smirks and takes his Saints hat off of his head. He scratches through a couple of the short dreads on top of his head and then replaces the hat.
LeRoux: “Life is full of second, third, and even fourth chances, sometimes. Growing up where I grew up, though, if you didn’t capitalize on the first chance then you might very well end up dead. I capitalized on my first chance, Sean. And now that I am here, I’ve given myself plenty of breathing room to know that I am going to survive in High Octane. Were there doubts heading into my debut? You bet there were. But those doubts have been stifled and now it’s YOU who has to wonder, ‘can I survive?’ Because when I beat you on Saturday night, you might as well be left for dead because you’ve proven time and again that you can NOT compete here. Putting you down a second time will only solidify my position as someone who is worthy enough to compete at every damn Refueled show that exists!”
LeRoux smirks. A gust of wind blows and causes his jacket to sway away from his hips. He looks to the sky and sees dark clouds beginning to engulf the Windy City’s sky. Almost immediately after, a light drizzle begins to fall. LeRoux removes his Ray Bans and folds them up in his hand. He shoves them in the right pocket of his jacket and turns his attention back to the camera.
LeRoux: “I’m sure you’re going to come out and say that my victory over you at Refueled Fifty-Five was a fluke. Do it. Please. That’s the kind of shit that I thrive on and I ALWAYS have! The doubters. The haters. Those that said that there was no way in hell that I could do something or should have been able to do it… that’s what drives me. Of course I would love to showcase my talents against someone new at every show, but there is something about getting a second chance to put you down and shut you up that makes me even happier. A few weeks ago, I proved that I was here… that I have arrived. And now? It’s time to make a statement that I am not going anywhere. And there isn’t a damn thing that you or anyone else can do about that.”
LeRoux looks sharply into the camera lens with this statement. As the rain begins to come down harder, LeRoux turns away from the camera and walks north on South Franklin Street towards the La Quinta Inn & Suites that exists two blocks away, where he is temporarily living until he makes enough money to rent his own place. The scene fades to black.