I find myself slumping on hotel couches more often than I find myself popping victory whiskey these days. I could blame my partner. I could blame the bracket. I could blame the obviousness of me not being motivated enough.
Why blame one when it is easily all three.
I slump and sigh like I were listening to a Podcast by Conor Fuse where he just names his favorite Super Mario Brother levels. Look you moron we know that Mario 2 is really Yume Kōjō: Doki Doki Panic you aren’t impressing anyone with your balls have yet to drop squeaky voice insights.
Sorry, that guy has become somewhat of a smart ass without the irony.
I slump my head in my hands as Jack Marley constantly passes me a blunt that may or not be laced with DMT. I am not sure anymore…too be honest I am not even sure what is reality some days. People say drugs are a crutch and… YEA no shit, that is exactly what they are to me. My knee injury was more severe than Lee Best let on and my life has become a sitcom without an applause sign because it isn’t funny, and it isn’t remarkable.
I am broke.
I lost Rebecca Hines whom I have come to realize I cared more for then anyone else that has been in my pathetic life. I mean shit, ten of my life I was in a coma anyway.
The Best Alliance broke up with a goddamn whimper while I was out.
My return has been celebrated with fucking crickets. I hate crickets and it is hard to go from a guy who started his HOW career undefeated for six months to whatever the hell I am now.
The butt of another stupid Cancer Jiles carried me joke… I suppose. I guess Conor Fuse uses the lame insults of a Stevens family member now.
The next time someone makes such a ridiculous statement I will back hand them so hard not even a warp whistle can bring you back to the present.
Maybe I needed to hear this nonsense because anything that can motivate me back to dropping people on their heads is welcome.
What is it I even want?
I certainly did not come back to hurt my hand punching a robot. I hope Ultratron-61 falls in a lake and Sunny drowns trying to save him.
I came back because I am a great Tag Team Wrestler and wanted to claim that mantle again. I failed without being pinned once. Now I look around and see that Noble Gaming has advanced without advancing me money for a name I created.
You think I will let that go?
I am broke…remember?
I have been insulted by Conor Fuse, the thumbs down legend.
I will get that money even if I must take it from your bloody body. The point is I am going to hurt you and then rob you. Sorry, I know Darin Zion is listening and needs everything explained to him.
If you want to wake me up from my doldrums, then you may have done the trick. I need something to fuel me and if it is money that will do it then so be it. I am looking at you as well, Clay Byrd. Those shades have a lot of interest on them now.
I am broke now because of an investment and until I start winning again I cannot call that investment a success. I have made it to the ring though so at least it has been working in getting me wrestling with some aggressiveness.
Hotel living and hotel slumping.
I am sick of this living arraignment with Jack Marley always there. You know how mind numbing it is for my only conversations to be with that dim witted fool? I feel like ripping out the stubble on my head because let’s be honest I am not even motivated to look good these days.
This coming Sunday is when I HAVE…no I NEED to turn it around because Steve Harrison belongs on the top of the rankings and fighting for titles not doing whatever I am currently doing.
Only fitting that Conor Fuse’s little cheerleader is the person in my way to a victory.
Strap your wrestling boots on tight, Darin because I am going to hit you hard, and we don’t need you flying out of them like the pathetic cartoon character you are.
You will all regret the disrespect I have endured the past few weeks and Darin Zion will just be the first to learn that Steve Harrison isn’t one to play with.
A Goddamn Hotel
I sat in a fold up metal chair that Jack Marley found outside. Where he found it, I did not know, and I really did not need to find out he grabbed it from a hotel trash container, so I let it go. I put some water and soap on it and handed him a sponge and watched him clean like a fat sack of weed was a reward. It wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that to do a good job for once.
The blinds were closed even though it was sunny out that day, but nobody needed to see inside my business with my personal doctor. He fixed his glasses which kept slowly falling off his nose ever time he bent over a little bit. A sign he may have lost some weight in his face recently which should not be surprising since I have hopefully been stressing him out in hopes that I will be back to 100%.
I flexed my right leg back and forth as he watched intently. He shook his head and then looked up at me. I was adorned in my finest secondhand store clothes, but I had at least shaved my head within the last five days.
“Do we really need to keep doing this?”
I looked back at the doctor with a confused look chiseled on my handsome face. “Uh…do what?”
The doctor sighed back at me and shook his head, “the knee, Steve.”
I nodded, “its fucked again…isn’t it?”
“No, Steve. I have told you several times now that your knee is fully healed now.”
I don’t remember that of course as I stared back at him with my mouth opened in surprise. I put my right index finger on my scar and rubbed it expecting it to bust open and blood gush everywhere. “I am not sure I can trust your opinion there, doc.”
He stood up and fixed his glasses again, “it is a mental thing, Steve.”
I frowned as I flexed my knee again. I stood up and looked down at the smaller doctor and kicked the chair out of our way. “I don’t care what you say, I do not feel normal, and you have shown in your past that trusting you will always be difficult.”
The doctor jumped from being surprised by the chair flying and took a few steps back from me. “Look, you might not want to hear this but all of the drugs you have been taken may be why you are feeling weird.”
I frowned angrily, “I KICKED AND PUNCHED A FUCKING ROBOT!”
Another few steps back, “I saw.”
“And your knee is fine, and it seemed the shot worked since you didn’t seem to have any hesitation in doing so.”
I paused and the nodded slowly back to him, “that is correct, I did not hesitate to try to go Sarah Connor on that malfunctioning piece of metal. But I did not use all money in hiring you and bankrolling our medicine for you to not take me seriously about my knee feeling weird.”
The doctor looked to his left where Jack Marley sat on the hotel couch rolling a joint. He pointed at him, “you keep letting that brain dead monkey give you drugs and half the time he doesn’t even tell you what it is.”
I walked over to Jack and knocked the joint out of his hand, “can this wait?”
Jack puts his hands up, “like what was that, mon. I was rolling that for you, I could tell you were stressing.”
“That is what I am talking about,” the doctor responded irritably still pointing at the cold chilling Jack Marley who didn’t move still looking like he had done nothing wrong.
Jack crossed his arms and leaned back in the couch, “I am not apologizing, mon. I am helping my bro with holistic medicines, so he does not get addicted to harmful painkillers.”
I rubbed my face and walked over to the wall and leaned against it. I started to tap my temple with my left index finger and started to think of how I got to this point. I had been a broken man when I left for surgery. I watched everything continually fall apart in my professional life right after my personal life has been shot in the head in front of me and I could do nothing about it but slink away like a coward. Through it all I had my knee surgery but realized that using weed or other substances that were not painkillers did make me loopy. “This is why we have created the shot, right doc?”
“Well…nothing is you know one hundred percent safe yet,” he stammered out of his mouth.
I had discovered him from old records Sandy had on my dad. He was fired doctor that had worked for my father in chemistry to help with his memory distortion experiments. Hey…thanks for making me Guinea Pig number on there, pops. This is when I reached out and spoke to him about a shot that could bring me back to my old self that would have no long-lasting effects. A shot that could give me what I needed when it was time to compete inside that godforsaken ring. “I am always the Experimental subject but this time it is for myself and if I need it to give Darin Zion a lesson inside the ring then so be it.”
The doctor nodded slowly, “you are paying for it, Steve.”
I laughed to myself, “I sure am, hopefully it is just money that it costs me.”
Hey Darin Zion, don’t worry I have not forgotten about you.
I am not so out of it that I would just forget I am facing the CFO of HOW!
Wait…what? You are proclaiming yourself the CFO as if we don’t know you have trouble with simple adding and subtracting. I know it is all for fun as you look forward to facing Simon Sparrow to see who can claim HOWs most cringe worthy wrestler.
Simon may as well not even show up because win or lose you will always be the most out of touch wince inducing imbecile in HOW.
I know you are aware of this too. I also know you cannot help yourself. it is just who you are. You can rally with Conor or insult me like a child, but we all know nothing changes about you even if you have changed your last name…again. Same guy, same nonsense but trust me Darin I know through it all you have a certain amount of energy that makes it impossible for you to give up.
I can respect your drive.
I watch you never give up and I could not help but laugh when you defeated three members of The Best Alliance. It was so pathetic of them that I could not help but laugh but at the same time I realized you might be the butt of a lot of jokes, but you are not an easy victory.
You took JJR to the limit and then some. Not many can claim that.
The issue is that you do everything so people will acknowledge you. You need the compliments from other wrestlers and respect like a child who was always told they were not good at anything by their parents. That drive to prove people wrong can only go so far because when do you begin doing things for yourself instead of others?
You will always just be an empty husk that wants Mike Best to say good job. For Lindsay Troy to say congrats. For Conor Fuse to invite you over for a basement video game party.
What is the point?
What have any of those NEEDs gotten you?
A Tag Title reign with Hollywood over a year ago?
A seat with that stupid group of phonies at War Games. The same group that wanted nothing to do with you, but you joined them anyway. The funny thing is you were the only one going into War Games that proved to be an asset. You wouldn’t even realize it though because your whole career and your whole personality is based off what others say to you.
Do you think you will gain success the way you are now?
Through all your exploits in wanting to be accepted you are still pretty much alone. Conor gives you some fake high fives, but you will never be brought into their group.
Trust me, man…I understand how lonely it is to be by yourself but at least I know who I am, and I was in a coma and had my memories messed with for ten years before I remembered everything during War Games week.
My life fucking sucks.
What is your excuse?
I can only induce that you are just not very intelligent. I am sure a milk joke will come from your ugly mouth.
I almost feel bad that I plan on harming you. I don’t mean win the match, Darin. I mean I am literally going to come to the ring with the plan being to leave you bloody and beaten. Even if Conor’s friendship is fake, I still want to show him what will happen to him if he dares cross me again.
You are just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Thoughts and Prayers.
I was gone for almost six months, and you still haven’t passed me in the rankings, Zion. If that isn’t an indictment on your talent, I am not sure what is.
Since I have been in HOW you have always been a guy who seemed to always fly the HOW flag. A guy who loved HOW and would do anything for fed to succeed. Obviously another one of your needs to be accepted.
Oh well, it is always good to have a good foot solider.
A foot solider that is now in PRIME?
PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME I AM GOOD.
Where do you even find the time? I cannot believe people are jumping over each other to book Darin Zion of all people but I am certain you would wrestle for Mountain Dew and Twizzlers if there is a chance someone will shake your clammy hand a d not confuse you with the ring announcer.
You are such a loser, Darin. Yup, I said it.
You will break your own morals and join another wrestling federation just so someone will accept you. This is bordering on insane, Zion. I hope you enjoy hanging out with the eGG Bandits…who hate you or giving tips to Dan Ryan’s annoying daughter…who also probably hates you and what could you even teach a young wrestler? I suppose what not to do or act like or breath like or just fucking BE can be a helpful to a snot nosed brat.
This isn’t even personal, Darin though I am sure you try to make it so. I need you to understand that any recycled nonsense you say to me is going to land on deaf ears. I don’t care that you have no idea who I am or what I stand for. It is not my job to explain to you how absurd you are, but do not worry when I am done knocking you out, I will make sure to duct tape that mouth so we don’t have to listen to you talk a bunch of meandering sleep-inducing drivel anymore.
This is about ME finally taking a step forward since I have come back.
I feel like I am doing you a favor by dropping you on your head because you need a wake-up call. You need to look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself who you really are. I don’t see Darin Zion. I see a guy who projects to others what he thinks they want to see.
It is ridiculous.
You are nothing but a cockroach living off others because you are nothing. You are just a shell of a man and that is not an eGG joke, buddy. You are an empty fool that will be given the great Miracle of all when I leave you gasping for air and reaching to the air in hopes one of your phony friends will grab it and help you to your feet.
It isn’t happening.
There is nobody there for you.
You aren’t even there for yourself, Zion.
“Nobody can respect a man who cannot even respect himself,” some stupid self-help poster…probably.
I do this because I have nothing left. I have nothing else to lose, Darin and that makes me more dangerous than I was because I don’t care what MOB thinks or me and I damn sure don’t care what Mike Best at the end of his retirement tour thinks of me. You do that for the rest of us anyway you suck up troglodyte.
I am not in the mood to glad hand you, Darin. I don’t plan on shaking your hand or giving you a head nod during our match. This isn’t about me recognizing you because you should be happy to just be inside the ring with the Suplex Saint. This is about attaining a victory by any means necessary because I am sick of being passed by the likes of Conor Fuse and just having to accept it. I am not going to accept anything anymore. I will grab what I want…what I DESERVE!
You just happen to be the first to fall.
Ask for all the advice you need in dealing with me but remember you will only be asking people I have beaten or have continually ducked me. Also…lets be real, nobody is going to respond to your text and phone calls anyway. Perpetually on block my dude.
The time you finally accept your plight in HOW the better for you but I not here to teach you how to evolve. This coming Sunday I do GODs work and leave you concussed. No amount of PBRs will ease your pain, but worse comes to worse you can always crawl back to Brian Hollywood.
I will grasp this new opportunity.
Steve Harrison drugged up or not.
Steve Harrison fully healthy?
Steve Harrison getting back to where he belongs.
Miracles be upon ME.
Sayonara, douche bag.