Subject: "One Defense." Triumph Sat May 04, 2024 10:23 pm
“I told you, we didn’t need that old man.” Aaron said, watching the movers carry his desk into a new building. The California sun shone brightly down on Los Angeles today, and Aaron leaned against his insanely pricey BMW. Jamison sat on the hood of his beater, cigarette in his mouth and sunglasses over his eyes.
“I have more connections in this industry, my boy - don’t you worry about Larsen and his facilities. We’ll get you a BETTER training facility and BETTER sparring partners, mark my words.” Aaron turned his head, looking down at Jamison before whipping his sunglasses off of his face. “We have to up your training, anyway. You’ve torn through everyone at L.I.C., not to mention the level of talent you’ve faced - and beaten - is a gigantic leap above their skill levels. You’ve beaten two world champions - during their reigns, no less. I feel safe to say sparring and fighting Hailey Banks to gain experience? That’s beneath you now, kid.”
He said with a smug grin, “You’re a champion now; something that none of those people have ever, or will ever, be again. Not with that old man behind them. You, though? You’ve done it, you’ve eclipsed them, and surpassed them. Like most of the PCW roster. Look at how long you’ve been there, what you’ve accomplished, and who you’ve beaten. You are the measuring stick and since you’re the Prodigy champion? I count that as the most prestigious championship in the company right now, and it should be the highest honor to face you.”
Jamison took a deep drag from his cigarette. “What do you have to tell me, Aaron?”, Jamison asked before exhaling. Instead of it being pushed away and disappearing, the very slight touch of wind caused it to almost hover over Jamison’s face …
… At least from Aaron’s point of view. He was impressed with how Jamison knew when he was beating around the bush. He smirked, “I forget how direct you are sometimes, kid. Alright. Your match against Lemon —“
“Lennon.” Jamison interrupted, putting the butt of his cigarette back into his mouth.
“Yes, her. — well the match is at the next Triumph event. I know I’ve pulled you from the Larsen training facility for the last few days for this move to LA - but it’s time we get you back into the ring. She’s a feisty little bitch, wants to be the best in the world - you know that age old tale of a young kid hoping and praying to make it big.” He faked a yawn, which only got a forced chuckle from Jamison.
“Too bad for her, I guess. Some people just weren’t meant to make it. The streets of Los Angeles are paved in the tears, dreams and bones of people who dreamed of being a star; and you’re making your career off of the very same.” Aaron’s previous smirk twisted into an arrogant, cocky smile.
“Shame too, she’s pretty talented. Pretty and talented. What a waste to leave her jaw shattered. Oh well. -- HEY! That’s fucking EXPENSIVE” Aaron shifted his yelling to the movers who currently have their hands on another item being moved into the building.
Jamison’s head turned to follow Aaron as he walked away, shouting more instructions. He took another drag.
-------------------
“What can one match tell us?”
“It could tell us that this person was destined to become a fuckin’ force in the ring. It could tell us that this person was tough - a fighter. And not just as a wrestler, but as a human, ya’know? It takes a strong fuckin’ person to leave, stake it out on their own. To do what they had to do in order to survive after a tragedy, abandonment, isolation - whatever their own traumas may be. I mean, let’s admit it - we as people who willingly put ourselves through this are far from normal.”
“In one match, I had Aaron Elliot convinced that I’d be a champion. Did he know I was a fighter? Yeah. Did he think - or ‘know’, as he says - I was tough? Yeah. He was convinced I was a force that people hadn’t seen in awhile. I don’t mean someone who was trained in one fighting style, making the jump to a sport that's adjacent to fighting; but I mean as someone who truly doesn’t give a shit? I could care less about you, and I mean that for anyone I find myself across from. You’re really just an obstacle in my path and I am trained to knock out, or tap out anyone I find myself against.”
“In one match, I had this company interested, and their champions looking over their shoulders. All the way back in February, I had Maximus Steel clutching the title to his chest, and Damien Mordeau watching with a vested interest. I’ve gone on to beat every person I’ve stepped foot in the ring against, be it by knockout or tap out. In one match, it could tell us this person was destined to be a champion; at least that’s what Aaron and others have said to me.”
“One match, two in your case, could also suggest some people need more time to develop. Some need time to hone their skills and really learn how to use them. You can do all of your jumps and flips onto mats, off of trampolines into foam; but practice and reality are two different things. Lennon; I won’t deny that you’re good at what you do, but it’s a practice that is bound to burn you. You haven’t perfected, and the style you’re practicing can - and will - be your downfall. You can be agile, but a slip is fatal. You can be fast, but my strikes will be fatal.”
“In one match - one defense - it will tell you and the world that I am a dominant champion. Sorry about your luck, Lennon.”
Yesterday at 12:14 am by 
Subject: "One Defense." Triumph 
