The Price of Freedom - Standing Room Only I

Admin Posts : 32 Join date : 2023-06-27

Damian Mordeau.

The man who everyone thought was going to pick up where I left off.

As much as I hate to admit it, it doesn’t surprise me that this is going to be how things end. From the moment I woke up in the hospital bed after AZAZEL’s vicious attack, I had a lot of thoughts going through my mind. More than the pain, more than the blood I’d lost, more than getting revenge… I knew you weren’t going to be able to let go of the fact you never got to look me in the eyes before you raised the PCW World Championship over your head. Deep down, I think you knew it didn’t really count. On the record books, sure, your name will go down in history. You are a former PCW World Champion. Hell, somehow, some way, Jacob Senn conveniently pulled up just in time to save the main event. The title wasn’t exactly handed to you on a silver platter. Maybe not from me but you did win it. You got to carry that leather and gold around over your shoulder, to run with the PCW flag proudly, but still there was always going to be a part of you — even just a small part of you — feels like something is missing. Ninety-nine days Damian Mordeau spent as champion… and ninety-nine days Damian Mordeau spent being told by everyone around him he wasn’t the real champ.

I could tell you the same thing. I could harp on about how I never lost the championship to you, about how you’ve never been able to beat me... but if I needed to tell you that then we wouldn’t be where we are right now. The truth is, since that first night I spent recovering in the hospital I’ve not given you a second thought. You’ve barely existed in my mind. I do wonder if that made things worse. The first time we stood across the ring from each other I fractured your already fragile ego. I swept your feet out from under you and left you looking a fool. You overestimated yourself and I beat you. For you, that was the most soul-crushing moment, the night where you vowed you'd get your revenge. I know damn well that was eating you up inside because you did everything in your power to get back at me. You became obsessed with beating me — so much so that even now you still call yourself ”The Dynasty”.

For me, it was just a Sunday.

I didn't have to work harder, train harder, or put on a brave face, because I've been pushing my limits for years. The level of competition it takes to win world championship gold is not new to me. My goal was solely to live up to my own expectations when it mattered most. You weren't my focus. You had your sights set on one-upping me from the very beginning while mine were never locked onto anything else than the PCW World Championship. Not because I thought I was better than you. I knew I was better than you. That was never what was important to me. What I valued most was ensuring PCW had a world champion to be proud of and one that could quite literally carry this company to the successes I knew it could reach. And you know what, Damian? I think I did that. When you look at where PCW is now compared to when it first opened its doors it’s like night and day. That wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been here. I believe that not out of arrogance but because no one else in PCW has worked as hard as I have for as long as I have. From London to Paris to Tokyo, America, Scotland, Canada and Mexico, I have traveled the globe to be the very best and I can proudly say that I’ve accomplished that here. Between the ropes, with a microphone in my hand, or even backstage, I am the standard bearer of this company.

Comparison is the thief of joy… and you had to spend three months being compared to me for something that you felt was out of your control. When I was world champion I was defending it every other week while you… never exactly lived up to the expectations put on you, did you? And so your twisted obsession with me grew.

Go ahead and blame me for whatever you like, make all the excuses you want, because that's what sets you and I apart: accountability. Just listening to you for five minutes is all it takes for anyone to see you refuse to hold yourself accountable for anything. "Be accountable" is all I've ever done. Every fuck up, I’ve owned. Every match I’ve lost, I’ve owned. Every time someone has pinned my shoulders to the mat, I’ve given them the plaudits they deserved. And not one time have I ever complained or blamed anyone else. It doesn’t matter how many times someone has got involved in my matches or cheated to beat me. Everyone knows how this game works and what people are capable of when the stakes are this high. Wins and losses come and go but so long as you wake up every morning striving to be better than you were the day before then you will succeed. It will grind you down — it's what grinded me down for so long — but it's also what builds you up. It built me up into what I am now. Once upon a time I was simply labeled “good enough”. I was “good enough” for the middle of the card. I was “good enough” to be considered for a title match. Well now I’m not just great — I’m inevitable. I’m un-fucking-deniable. When these people think of the PCW World Championship — hell, when they think of success of any kind here — the name “Matt Miles” is always the first on the tip of their tongue.

Pushing yourself to that level? That’s something I’m not sure you’ll ever understand. You're a coward who is driven by selfishness and greed, with the emotional maturity of a pre-teen who never learned what the word "grounded" meant. Just look at what happened when the going got tough. You’ve got wins against Chris and Jupiter King under your belt but beyond that you’ve rarely proven to be more than just talk. I proved that once before and I can do it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And... again.

That’s how I know that you're not the guy destined to beat me, Damian.

You never were.

So we’re at a crossroads now, you and I. Standing Room Only changes the paths of our careers maybe forever. Both of us want to be free from our past. For months we’ve both had asterisks next to our names. Damian Mordeau, the man who was only ever champion because Matt Miles couldn’t defend his title. Matt Miles, the man who failed to defend his championship at Popular Demand. We both have so much on the line now. You’ve wanted this for months. A chance to prove that you can hang with me once and for all. And now, after all this talk, I’ve made my bed too. This is where I have to show that Popular Demand was a case of the right place, right time for you, Damian, and that in this ring we couldn’t be further apart.
Sunday, August twenty-fifth, SoFi Stadium… it’s time.

The price of freedom is steep. But only one of us will have to pay for it.

And I promise that Standing Room Only will be costly for you.