10-17-2020, 03:35 PM
When I found out that my father was in the hospital, I didn't know what to do. I was completely dumbfounded, and feeling like I was being pulled in different directions. I was even so confused that I didn't even know how to make a simple phone call to my family to ask how he was doing at that moment after talking to my sister, or what. All I know is that I needed to do something. I needed to tell her, and I had done that, but what next? What do you do when you're told that your dad is in a coma in the hospital, and nobody knows if he's going to make it? My friend could see I was a mess inside my head, and he did he part to try and help me at least gather my belongings and at least get out of where we were. It was a simple step. It was a logical step. It was what needed to be done before anything else could happen. So I took a breath, and followed suit. It's all I could do. I was still in a stupor and didn't know which way was up. I didn't know if my dad was even going to live over the next five minutes, let alone any time to get down there to see him. I didn't know if my dad would come out of the coma and basically be a vegetable. I didn't know anything but that I needed a shower, and I needed to leave.
So I did...
Once I was out of the shower, my mentality was a little more focused. I was much more upset. I was feeling the feelings of someone who would, if they found out that their dad was comatose in a hospital. The tears were being fought, and once I got dressed and got everything assembled, I broke. I grabbed my bags, and I just crumbled against the door in tears. My head just fell against the door, and I wept. I wept hard. This was my father. This was the man who guided me down the path I was on. This was my hero in life. My friend, he knew this was inevitable, and instead of trying to "save the day," he simply put his hand on my back and let the tears flow.
What felt like hours passed. I felt like there was no more liquid inside my body to be expressed as tears. I began to wipe the grossness off of my face, and that's when he stepped up, and actually interjected into the moment.
Thoren Holt: Jake?
.:: Jake begins to wipe the tears and snot off of his face. ::.
Jake Starr: Yeah...?
Thoren Holt: Eric just texted me...
.:: Jake looks over at Thoren, red eyes and all, confused. ::.
Jake Starr: Why?
Thoren Holt: He told me to get you to the airport, the plane, and your family, are all waiting...
.:: Jake looks surprised. ::.
Jake Starr: Seriously?
Thoren Holt: That's what it says... So would you agree we need to go?
.:: Jake nods. Thoren pats him on the back again and grabs his bag from him. ::.
Thoren Holt: Let's go, bro... We have bigger fish to fry than just being here...
Jake Starr: Ok...
Getting out of the building was a chore in and of itself. Everyone there knows me. I'm someone who people will talk to. This news, being broadcast worldwide even before I knew it, had made the rounds backstage. As we left, I could see people looking at me. I could see the want in their eyes to say something. I could see the empathy as they could tell I had just broken down. I could see that they wanted to tell me how they felt bad for me, but didn't know how to approach me. With every glance, I felt myself wanting to walk faster. I didn't want to seem awkward, so I did my best to simply nod at them, acknowledge I knew that they knew, and continue moving on.
Once to the car, there was no more hesitation and no more "normal speed." Instead it was hauling ass and getting to the airport. It was about getting to the plane, getting on board, and getting en route to my father's side. The whole drive, I kept my eyes looking out the window. I kept thinking if I was going to be too late, and hoping that whatever higher being existed would give me the chance to be by my father's side at least one more time. For the bulk of my life I had never engaged in a belief in a higher power, outside of stupid comedic routines, but this was different, for me. This was family. This was my father. This was different. I could feel it inside. I could understand why people, when faced when something of this magnitude, magically do turn to something bigger than they are for the hope that the negative can be outweighed by the positive.
We finally arrived at the airport. We finally drove around the complex to find the hanger and FBO where our jet was waiting. As we parked, I wasted no time jumping out of the car and grabbing my bags. My nephew, he knew he had to stay behind to check the car in, and fly home normally, and on top of it all, knew this wasn't his trip to tag along on.
.:: As Jake slams the trunk, picks his bag up by the handles, and begins to run toward the jet, Thoren exclaims. ::.
Thoren Holt: Jake...
.:: Jake pauses and turns around, worrying he forgot something. ::.
Thoren Holt: I'm sorry, bro... All of y'all will be in my thoughts and prayers. I know it's not my style... But this isn't an everyday type of thing... I hope you know I'm sending my best...
.:: Jake nods, and turns to continuing making his way toward the entrance to the FBO, and ultimately onto the ramp where the jet from the Golden Nugget, and his family await his arrival. As Jake gets cleared to head to the plane, he exits onto the ramp, and literally tosses his bag at the handler, and jumps stairs to get on board quicker, almost hitting his head in the process. As he boards, Jake sees Roeper, Mara, and Brandon, and Roeper wastes no time jumping up and running into Jake's arms and sobbing. Mara is close behind, and Jake reaches one arm down to hug them both. After a moment of emotion, Jake points them back to their seats, and heads up to the front of the plane to the flight attendant and pilots. ::.
Jake Starr: ... Alright, let's get out of here ASAP...
.:: Jake receives a "roger" from the cockpit, and he turns to go back into the cabin and take his seat. The flight attendant is quick to get all of their final checks done, and closes the cabin for departure. ::.
At this point, all I knew to do is text my mom and let her know we were on our way. I knew she'd insist we not worry, but to those of us on board, this was a moment to worry, and a moment to take seriously. We all settled in for the flight, and all took turns talking about what we knew, didn't know, and hoped for once we landed. As the redeye progressed through the skies, we all tried to sleep, hoping we could "timewarp" to the landing and be able to go face the reality ahead. For my daughter, it was relatively easy, and I look back and remember days I could put everything aside and sleep. For the rest of us, we all did our best, and caught the few moments we could and simply waited...
---------------------------------
.:: The scene opens in total darkness. Footsteps are heard, and within the illumination of a spotlight, Jake Starr walks into frame, beginning to speak lines, not as lyrics, but as spoken word poetry. ::.
Jake Starr: You know that I've seen... Too many romantic dreams... Up in lights, fallin' off... The silver screen
My heart's like an open book... For the whole world to read... Sometimes nothing keeps me together... At the seams
I'm on my way... I'm on my way... Home sweet home...
Home sweet home...
Home sweet home...
Those words, all of them. Think about it. Think about what they mean. Think about what they represent. Think about the crescendo to the ultimate theme of what they represent... Home... Sweet... Home...
SCW has been that home for me since March of 2009. It has been the place where, when all was crashing down around me, I could go to and know it would be there to give me a sense of normalcy. Win, lose, or draw, SCW was always there for me. SCW was always my "base" in an out of control game of tag. But SCW, alone, wasn't my home. SCW alone wasn't the place where I would walk to in order to feel a sense of solace. No. There was other places. Yes, there was my house. Yes, there was backstage interaction. But more than anything, more than ANYWHERE, there was one place that was truly HOME to this Social Misfit...
.:: The lights come on, and behind Jake stands the demonic structure known as SCW's Chamber. Jake runs his hands along the cage, interlocking his fingers within the fencing, smelling its odor, and slowly letting go and turning back toward the camera. ::.
... There's always been my home, inside the House of Nightmares... The true Unforgiven... The Hell of Anyone Who Set's Foot... It's this monstrosity, it's the Chamber itself. For those of you who don't know my lineage, I'm one of those SCW lunatics of who have had match after match inside this structure, and in one case, ASKED FOR IT. Don't remember? You don't remember me cashing in my Trios Contract to have EVERY CHAMPION face me, one after another, inside here, putting their titles on the line against my ability to even stand. But even before then, it was THIS STRUCTURE that gave birth to Jake Starr's World Championship aspirations. It was Donovan Kayl, Rachel Foxx, and I who tangled, all wanting to be the one who challenged James Exeter in 2009. So understand that this structure, this hell-house, this ender of careers, is something I consider a friend, a bunker, and a HOME!
Let's be real... Let's be DAMN REAL... Everyone else in this locker room looks at this and fears how they will feel coming out. They fear the toll it will take on their body, and the risk that it could have to their careers in the long run. I, on the other hand, have been walking into this cage for over a decade, time after time, and done things that nobody every expected me to do. I've walked out with opportunities and I've walked out with titles, but in the end, I HAVE WALKED OUT! I've done so because I've never let this structure intimidate me. I've never let it be the SUPREME being of me. Instead, I've walked into it and respected it, and embraced its power and potential. I've allowed it to be EXACTLY what it is, and allowed myself to submit myself to whatever it has to dish out.
I don't run from it...
I don't fear it...
I allow it to be what it is, and become ONE with the destruction that it holds...
That's why I called out every champion at once. That is why I gave them the advantage of being able to beat me down, one after another. It wasn't a simple gauntlet. It was the ULTIMATE gauntlet. It was every champion cheering the previous on, HOPING they would destroy me just a little more than the one before them. Everyone wanted me to be beaten down. It became about EMBARASSING Jake Starr, and not necessarily "beating" him. Beating me, using the Chamber to their advantage, became more plausible as more and more combatants came out. But truly showing me I was DUMB and STUPID for calling them all out was the goal. Everyone wanted to make sure that Jake Starr walked away humbled.
Instead, Jake Starr walked away World Champion... And with Rachel and Donovan... Jake Starr walked away the man who would ultimate dethrone James Exeter in his most important title reign of his career. Now... It represents an opportunity, again. It's 2009, all over again. It's the underdog, in Jake Starr, against a group of the most polished, perfected, and accomplished stars in modern SCW. It's something I haven't faced since I had all of the champions staring me down, but this time, one pinfall means nothing. One submission means nothing. It's not one on one, after another, after another. There's a chance it could become one giant clusterfuck, and I can promise that between Peyton Rice, Christy Matthews, Kandis, Aaron Blackbourne, and Crystal Zdunich, it's going to eventually turn into one of those matches where fans are yanking their hair out because nobody will know what is going on, or who is about to do what.
.:: Jake smirks. ::.
And I can't wait!
You see, this conglomeration of opposition tells me a lot. It gets me excited. Not because there are some women, one questionable, and one talented guy besides myself, but because I know what these people bring to the table. For once in life, I've kept my eye on those I may not have crossed paths with, along with those I have. And let's be real... One of these bitches, and one that hasn't gotten her full transition to male completed yet, have a bit of history. It's why I know Christy and Peyton will be wanting this win in their column because then they will get to PICK and CHOOSE what title they want. They won't have to work to try and win and/or regain championships. Instead, they can just do what I was criticized for way back when, and just demand it. They can continue their little personal quests of trying to be the "everything" champion, whether it's by themselves, or while stroking the egos of others. In the end, these two are part of the biggest problem SCW has ever has, and that's those dickheads who want to have every title under one banner. I used to be the same. Hell when I challenged every champion inside the Chamber, I effectively did the same. But I did it for the challenge. I did it to test myself. These others do it because they just want to cutoff everyone else from having a chance.
So when it comes to those two broads... EAT A BAG OF DICK!
That's right... I said it... You two cunts are part of the problem in SCW, and you're walking into something I consider my home away from home. I've heard Peyton run her mouth, already, multiple times and let me tell you, if her shit talking is any inclination of what fans, and me as well, should be ready to expect, it could be expressed in a few emojis, and fit into a tweet. Her bullshit is that shallow. She wants to redeem losing because she's a giant titty baby, and can't handle the fact that she's not the greatest "insert whatever accolade here she's trying to prove herself to be" here. Instead, she's just someone who falls into one of those categories many of us get tired of having to deal with. And that's why she's ONE of those I will personally make it my goal to vanquish inside MY HOME. Not the Chamber. Not the demonic structure. MY HOUSE. THE HOUSE THAT JAKE STARR MADE... INFAMOUS!
Now the truth be told, these two shitbags aren't the only ones in this match. They're not the only ones with a chance at winning. They're not the only ones who I have to focus on. But if I went on about every single person, if I picked everyone apart, what would that sound like? It'd sound like a record on skip. You'd see a beginning, a middle, and an ending for each opponent. But because I'm not dissecting Aaron, Kandis, and Crystal, I'm still keeping a firm eye on them and what they bring to the table. I'm going back and trying to find every iota of information I can to prepare myself for the trio that I may not be as familiar with, as the other two. Why? Why am I giving them credibility without running them through the ringer like the two outcasts from Ab-Fab? It's because they haven't had moments where they took opportunities and titles from me. They haven't crossed the line with me where they deserve to have their faces shoved into an elephant's bunghole. But they deserve the respect to know they're on my radar. They deserve to know I'm not writing ANY of them off.
How could I?
How could I write ANYONE off?
This structure makes and breaks bones just as easily as it does careers. I was the underdog walking in, in 2009, hearing everyone tell me I didn't have a chance. I promise, right now, amidst this level of competition, that feeling is the same. Nobody believes I'm worthy. Nobody believes I can overcome the odds. Everyone thinks it'll be the odds on, and obviously already mouthy "favorite," Peyton Rice, simply because she's established herself as almost unbeatable. But the key there, is ALMOST. I don't care how much she talks, I don't care what Christy Matthews word-vomits all over everyone listening to her crap, and honestly I don't care what is said by either of the remaining three. Why? Because they're just words. They're hollow. They mean nothing. You walk inside MY CHAMBER, you officially become an equal to everyone, no matter what odds are in your favor. You become a mortal. You don't bring with you long winning streaks, instead you simply have to bring a will to live.
.:: Jake turns back and looks at the structure one more time, running his hands over the cold metal, and putting his forehead against it. He continues to speak with his back to the camera. ::.
My will, it won't be broken. My ability to survive in the depths of hell will not be curtailed. This is what made me a name in SCW, and subsequently a legend in the minds of the masses. Now, it becomes where step back in time physically, and use the memories of the present, to do the unthinkable once again...
.:: As the scene fades to black, this time instead of spoken word, Jake begins to sing softly. ::.
I'm on my way...
Just set me free...
Home... Sweet... Home...
---------------------------------
Using the phrase, "an eternity" can't even begin to describe how it felt waiting on that plane ride to finally come to an end in Austin. Several times the pilot would call back to my chair and let me know they were trying to get diverted to a faster course, succeeding most of the time, but it was still as if every passing second lasted an hour. Eventually, everyone but me was able to at least get some semblance of sleep. Nobody felt recharged, but everyone knew they needed something. I, on the other hand, my adrenaline was on high. I couldn't stop my brain.
What if I was too late?
What if we land, and I get a text or voicemail that he's gone?
There was no beating around the bush with my brain. It was the worst case scenario, or nothing. But nevertheless, we did arrive in good time. On the ramp, awaiting our arrival, was a vehicle and driver who knew simply to retrieve us, and get us all to the hospital as soon as possible. He didn't know why, nor did he care, he just knew he was being paid well for one simple trip. As the plane came to a halt, I woke my daughter up, and told her to grab her stuff. While we gathered our stuff on board, the attendants began loading our bags into the vehicle. Once we were all in, the driver wasted no time making his way to the hospital.
The car ride was a silent as it could have been. The only noises were a faint song being played on the radio, and the sound of the road beneath the tires. My eyes faced forward the whole time, stoic, and focused. As we got close, I texted my mom and let her know, and she said she'd meet us down at the entrance and get us in to see my father, and that's exactly what happened.
.:: As the group arrive outside the hospital, Jake's mother stands waiting for them. As everyone unpacks, Jake and his mother embrace. She apologizes profusely, feeling as if she is inconveniencing her son, but Jake is having none of it. She tells everyone she's going to take Jake in real quick, and then come get everyone else. Jake's mom explains who Jake is, and why she is taking him back into ICU, and Jake is let back.
Jake walk past several patients, and can see on a door they're approaching "Starr, Jeff" on the label. He walks in front of the window, peering into the room and sees his dad hooked up to many machines, and unconscious. He freezes and just stares. His mom puts her hand on his shoulder. ::.
Denise Starr: Jake... He needs to hear from you... He needs to know you're here...
Jake Starr: What do I even say?
Denise Starr: Whatever you feel... He'd want to hear you be genuine with him. He wouldn't want you to be something or someone you're not...
.:: Jake sighs, and nods. ::.
Denise Starr: I'll go help everyone with their stuff... You talk with him...
.:: Jake simply nods again, and slowly approaches the door to his father's room. The sound of the machines beeping, and the oxygen machine breathing for him is all Jake can hear. He walks in, one silent step at a time, before finally breaking the effective silence with a call to his father. ::.
Jake Starr: Umm... Hey Dad... This feels, wrong... It feels like you're being punished for my deeds and this is somehow supposed to make me feel even more guilty... I mean, we've been in this situation before. The roles were reversed, but we were here, just like this, where I was the one in the bed, and you were the one talking to me. I guess, maybe, it also tells me that if this is the same situation, I know you can hear me. I could always hear you, but I couldn't respond. So I'm hoping that's the case...
.:: Jake goes and sits in a chair by the bed. ::.
Jake Starr: You know... When I got the message about you being here, I was completely stunned. I was more blindsided than I was about anything else, maybe outside of learning about Jordan. And speaking of Jordan, I felt it was right to make sure she knew what had happened. I don't know if she will do anything about it or not, or if she even cared, but I think this is something she deserves to be in the loop about. I don't know y'alls story, nor am I going to get involved, bur it just felt like the right move...
.:: Jake begins to get a little choked up. ::.
Jake Starr: Dad... None of us know how serious this is for you. We have all been told to just wait it out. But you're about to have your granddaughter here by your side as well, and if she's not enough strength to pull through, I don't know what is. Personally... I can feel you fighting. I think we may have our roles reversed here, but I think we both felt one another's fight to get better. I don't know what effects this will have on you...
It was at this moment things began to get hectic. First I was distracted by something in the hallway, and then the machines surrounding my dad all began to go off at once. I quickly stood up, and froze. I then ran out of his room and before I could say anything, I'm hearing phrases like "get the cart," and "BP is dropping fast." I stared blankly, not realizing the severity of what I was watching, and as I did so, Mara runs up beside me and turns to see the melee going on as a team begins to try and stabilize and get him back to where he was. I push Mara toward Brandon and he gets her out so she doesn't see anything, and I have to hold my mom back from running in to his room as well. We, again, were powerless to do anything but watch, and that's what we did, as I tried my best to stay strong and show the same amount of emotion as my dad would have if the roles were reversed.
So I did...
Once I was out of the shower, my mentality was a little more focused. I was much more upset. I was feeling the feelings of someone who would, if they found out that their dad was comatose in a hospital. The tears were being fought, and once I got dressed and got everything assembled, I broke. I grabbed my bags, and I just crumbled against the door in tears. My head just fell against the door, and I wept. I wept hard. This was my father. This was the man who guided me down the path I was on. This was my hero in life. My friend, he knew this was inevitable, and instead of trying to "save the day," he simply put his hand on my back and let the tears flow.
What felt like hours passed. I felt like there was no more liquid inside my body to be expressed as tears. I began to wipe the grossness off of my face, and that's when he stepped up, and actually interjected into the moment.
Thoren Holt: Jake?
.:: Jake begins to wipe the tears and snot off of his face. ::.
Jake Starr: Yeah...?
Thoren Holt: Eric just texted me...
.:: Jake looks over at Thoren, red eyes and all, confused. ::.
Jake Starr: Why?
Thoren Holt: He told me to get you to the airport, the plane, and your family, are all waiting...
.:: Jake looks surprised. ::.
Jake Starr: Seriously?
Thoren Holt: That's what it says... So would you agree we need to go?
.:: Jake nods. Thoren pats him on the back again and grabs his bag from him. ::.
Thoren Holt: Let's go, bro... We have bigger fish to fry than just being here...
Jake Starr: Ok...
Getting out of the building was a chore in and of itself. Everyone there knows me. I'm someone who people will talk to. This news, being broadcast worldwide even before I knew it, had made the rounds backstage. As we left, I could see people looking at me. I could see the want in their eyes to say something. I could see the empathy as they could tell I had just broken down. I could see that they wanted to tell me how they felt bad for me, but didn't know how to approach me. With every glance, I felt myself wanting to walk faster. I didn't want to seem awkward, so I did my best to simply nod at them, acknowledge I knew that they knew, and continue moving on.
Once to the car, there was no more hesitation and no more "normal speed." Instead it was hauling ass and getting to the airport. It was about getting to the plane, getting on board, and getting en route to my father's side. The whole drive, I kept my eyes looking out the window. I kept thinking if I was going to be too late, and hoping that whatever higher being existed would give me the chance to be by my father's side at least one more time. For the bulk of my life I had never engaged in a belief in a higher power, outside of stupid comedic routines, but this was different, for me. This was family. This was my father. This was different. I could feel it inside. I could understand why people, when faced when something of this magnitude, magically do turn to something bigger than they are for the hope that the negative can be outweighed by the positive.
We finally arrived at the airport. We finally drove around the complex to find the hanger and FBO where our jet was waiting. As we parked, I wasted no time jumping out of the car and grabbing my bags. My nephew, he knew he had to stay behind to check the car in, and fly home normally, and on top of it all, knew this wasn't his trip to tag along on.
.:: As Jake slams the trunk, picks his bag up by the handles, and begins to run toward the jet, Thoren exclaims. ::.
Thoren Holt: Jake...
.:: Jake pauses and turns around, worrying he forgot something. ::.
Thoren Holt: I'm sorry, bro... All of y'all will be in my thoughts and prayers. I know it's not my style... But this isn't an everyday type of thing... I hope you know I'm sending my best...
.:: Jake nods, and turns to continuing making his way toward the entrance to the FBO, and ultimately onto the ramp where the jet from the Golden Nugget, and his family await his arrival. As Jake gets cleared to head to the plane, he exits onto the ramp, and literally tosses his bag at the handler, and jumps stairs to get on board quicker, almost hitting his head in the process. As he boards, Jake sees Roeper, Mara, and Brandon, and Roeper wastes no time jumping up and running into Jake's arms and sobbing. Mara is close behind, and Jake reaches one arm down to hug them both. After a moment of emotion, Jake points them back to their seats, and heads up to the front of the plane to the flight attendant and pilots. ::.
Jake Starr: ... Alright, let's get out of here ASAP...
.:: Jake receives a "roger" from the cockpit, and he turns to go back into the cabin and take his seat. The flight attendant is quick to get all of their final checks done, and closes the cabin for departure. ::.
At this point, all I knew to do is text my mom and let her know we were on our way. I knew she'd insist we not worry, but to those of us on board, this was a moment to worry, and a moment to take seriously. We all settled in for the flight, and all took turns talking about what we knew, didn't know, and hoped for once we landed. As the redeye progressed through the skies, we all tried to sleep, hoping we could "timewarp" to the landing and be able to go face the reality ahead. For my daughter, it was relatively easy, and I look back and remember days I could put everything aside and sleep. For the rest of us, we all did our best, and caught the few moments we could and simply waited...
---------------------------------
.:: The scene opens in total darkness. Footsteps are heard, and within the illumination of a spotlight, Jake Starr walks into frame, beginning to speak lines, not as lyrics, but as spoken word poetry. ::.
Jake Starr: You know that I've seen... Too many romantic dreams... Up in lights, fallin' off... The silver screen
My heart's like an open book... For the whole world to read... Sometimes nothing keeps me together... At the seams
I'm on my way... I'm on my way... Home sweet home...
Home sweet home...
Home sweet home...
Those words, all of them. Think about it. Think about what they mean. Think about what they represent. Think about the crescendo to the ultimate theme of what they represent... Home... Sweet... Home...
SCW has been that home for me since March of 2009. It has been the place where, when all was crashing down around me, I could go to and know it would be there to give me a sense of normalcy. Win, lose, or draw, SCW was always there for me. SCW was always my "base" in an out of control game of tag. But SCW, alone, wasn't my home. SCW alone wasn't the place where I would walk to in order to feel a sense of solace. No. There was other places. Yes, there was my house. Yes, there was backstage interaction. But more than anything, more than ANYWHERE, there was one place that was truly HOME to this Social Misfit...
.:: The lights come on, and behind Jake stands the demonic structure known as SCW's Chamber. Jake runs his hands along the cage, interlocking his fingers within the fencing, smelling its odor, and slowly letting go and turning back toward the camera. ::.
... There's always been my home, inside the House of Nightmares... The true Unforgiven... The Hell of Anyone Who Set's Foot... It's this monstrosity, it's the Chamber itself. For those of you who don't know my lineage, I'm one of those SCW lunatics of who have had match after match inside this structure, and in one case, ASKED FOR IT. Don't remember? You don't remember me cashing in my Trios Contract to have EVERY CHAMPION face me, one after another, inside here, putting their titles on the line against my ability to even stand. But even before then, it was THIS STRUCTURE that gave birth to Jake Starr's World Championship aspirations. It was Donovan Kayl, Rachel Foxx, and I who tangled, all wanting to be the one who challenged James Exeter in 2009. So understand that this structure, this hell-house, this ender of careers, is something I consider a friend, a bunker, and a HOME!
Let's be real... Let's be DAMN REAL... Everyone else in this locker room looks at this and fears how they will feel coming out. They fear the toll it will take on their body, and the risk that it could have to their careers in the long run. I, on the other hand, have been walking into this cage for over a decade, time after time, and done things that nobody every expected me to do. I've walked out with opportunities and I've walked out with titles, but in the end, I HAVE WALKED OUT! I've done so because I've never let this structure intimidate me. I've never let it be the SUPREME being of me. Instead, I've walked into it and respected it, and embraced its power and potential. I've allowed it to be EXACTLY what it is, and allowed myself to submit myself to whatever it has to dish out.
I don't run from it...
I don't fear it...
I allow it to be what it is, and become ONE with the destruction that it holds...
That's why I called out every champion at once. That is why I gave them the advantage of being able to beat me down, one after another. It wasn't a simple gauntlet. It was the ULTIMATE gauntlet. It was every champion cheering the previous on, HOPING they would destroy me just a little more than the one before them. Everyone wanted me to be beaten down. It became about EMBARASSING Jake Starr, and not necessarily "beating" him. Beating me, using the Chamber to their advantage, became more plausible as more and more combatants came out. But truly showing me I was DUMB and STUPID for calling them all out was the goal. Everyone wanted to make sure that Jake Starr walked away humbled.
Instead, Jake Starr walked away World Champion... And with Rachel and Donovan... Jake Starr walked away the man who would ultimate dethrone James Exeter in his most important title reign of his career. Now... It represents an opportunity, again. It's 2009, all over again. It's the underdog, in Jake Starr, against a group of the most polished, perfected, and accomplished stars in modern SCW. It's something I haven't faced since I had all of the champions staring me down, but this time, one pinfall means nothing. One submission means nothing. It's not one on one, after another, after another. There's a chance it could become one giant clusterfuck, and I can promise that between Peyton Rice, Christy Matthews, Kandis, Aaron Blackbourne, and Crystal Zdunich, it's going to eventually turn into one of those matches where fans are yanking their hair out because nobody will know what is going on, or who is about to do what.
.:: Jake smirks. ::.
And I can't wait!
You see, this conglomeration of opposition tells me a lot. It gets me excited. Not because there are some women, one questionable, and one talented guy besides myself, but because I know what these people bring to the table. For once in life, I've kept my eye on those I may not have crossed paths with, along with those I have. And let's be real... One of these bitches, and one that hasn't gotten her full transition to male completed yet, have a bit of history. It's why I know Christy and Peyton will be wanting this win in their column because then they will get to PICK and CHOOSE what title they want. They won't have to work to try and win and/or regain championships. Instead, they can just do what I was criticized for way back when, and just demand it. They can continue their little personal quests of trying to be the "everything" champion, whether it's by themselves, or while stroking the egos of others. In the end, these two are part of the biggest problem SCW has ever has, and that's those dickheads who want to have every title under one banner. I used to be the same. Hell when I challenged every champion inside the Chamber, I effectively did the same. But I did it for the challenge. I did it to test myself. These others do it because they just want to cutoff everyone else from having a chance.
So when it comes to those two broads... EAT A BAG OF DICK!
That's right... I said it... You two cunts are part of the problem in SCW, and you're walking into something I consider my home away from home. I've heard Peyton run her mouth, already, multiple times and let me tell you, if her shit talking is any inclination of what fans, and me as well, should be ready to expect, it could be expressed in a few emojis, and fit into a tweet. Her bullshit is that shallow. She wants to redeem losing because she's a giant titty baby, and can't handle the fact that she's not the greatest "insert whatever accolade here she's trying to prove herself to be" here. Instead, she's just someone who falls into one of those categories many of us get tired of having to deal with. And that's why she's ONE of those I will personally make it my goal to vanquish inside MY HOME. Not the Chamber. Not the demonic structure. MY HOUSE. THE HOUSE THAT JAKE STARR MADE... INFAMOUS!
Now the truth be told, these two shitbags aren't the only ones in this match. They're not the only ones with a chance at winning. They're not the only ones who I have to focus on. But if I went on about every single person, if I picked everyone apart, what would that sound like? It'd sound like a record on skip. You'd see a beginning, a middle, and an ending for each opponent. But because I'm not dissecting Aaron, Kandis, and Crystal, I'm still keeping a firm eye on them and what they bring to the table. I'm going back and trying to find every iota of information I can to prepare myself for the trio that I may not be as familiar with, as the other two. Why? Why am I giving them credibility without running them through the ringer like the two outcasts from Ab-Fab? It's because they haven't had moments where they took opportunities and titles from me. They haven't crossed the line with me where they deserve to have their faces shoved into an elephant's bunghole. But they deserve the respect to know they're on my radar. They deserve to know I'm not writing ANY of them off.
How could I?
How could I write ANYONE off?
This structure makes and breaks bones just as easily as it does careers. I was the underdog walking in, in 2009, hearing everyone tell me I didn't have a chance. I promise, right now, amidst this level of competition, that feeling is the same. Nobody believes I'm worthy. Nobody believes I can overcome the odds. Everyone thinks it'll be the odds on, and obviously already mouthy "favorite," Peyton Rice, simply because she's established herself as almost unbeatable. But the key there, is ALMOST. I don't care how much she talks, I don't care what Christy Matthews word-vomits all over everyone listening to her crap, and honestly I don't care what is said by either of the remaining three. Why? Because they're just words. They're hollow. They mean nothing. You walk inside MY CHAMBER, you officially become an equal to everyone, no matter what odds are in your favor. You become a mortal. You don't bring with you long winning streaks, instead you simply have to bring a will to live.
.:: Jake turns back and looks at the structure one more time, running his hands over the cold metal, and putting his forehead against it. He continues to speak with his back to the camera. ::.
My will, it won't be broken. My ability to survive in the depths of hell will not be curtailed. This is what made me a name in SCW, and subsequently a legend in the minds of the masses. Now, it becomes where step back in time physically, and use the memories of the present, to do the unthinkable once again...
.:: As the scene fades to black, this time instead of spoken word, Jake begins to sing softly. ::.
I'm on my way...
Just set me free...
Home... Sweet... Home...
---------------------------------
Using the phrase, "an eternity" can't even begin to describe how it felt waiting on that plane ride to finally come to an end in Austin. Several times the pilot would call back to my chair and let me know they were trying to get diverted to a faster course, succeeding most of the time, but it was still as if every passing second lasted an hour. Eventually, everyone but me was able to at least get some semblance of sleep. Nobody felt recharged, but everyone knew they needed something. I, on the other hand, my adrenaline was on high. I couldn't stop my brain.
What if I was too late?
What if we land, and I get a text or voicemail that he's gone?
There was no beating around the bush with my brain. It was the worst case scenario, or nothing. But nevertheless, we did arrive in good time. On the ramp, awaiting our arrival, was a vehicle and driver who knew simply to retrieve us, and get us all to the hospital as soon as possible. He didn't know why, nor did he care, he just knew he was being paid well for one simple trip. As the plane came to a halt, I woke my daughter up, and told her to grab her stuff. While we gathered our stuff on board, the attendants began loading our bags into the vehicle. Once we were all in, the driver wasted no time making his way to the hospital.
The car ride was a silent as it could have been. The only noises were a faint song being played on the radio, and the sound of the road beneath the tires. My eyes faced forward the whole time, stoic, and focused. As we got close, I texted my mom and let her know, and she said she'd meet us down at the entrance and get us in to see my father, and that's exactly what happened.
.:: As the group arrive outside the hospital, Jake's mother stands waiting for them. As everyone unpacks, Jake and his mother embrace. She apologizes profusely, feeling as if she is inconveniencing her son, but Jake is having none of it. She tells everyone she's going to take Jake in real quick, and then come get everyone else. Jake's mom explains who Jake is, and why she is taking him back into ICU, and Jake is let back.
Jake walk past several patients, and can see on a door they're approaching "Starr, Jeff" on the label. He walks in front of the window, peering into the room and sees his dad hooked up to many machines, and unconscious. He freezes and just stares. His mom puts her hand on his shoulder. ::.
Denise Starr: Jake... He needs to hear from you... He needs to know you're here...
Jake Starr: What do I even say?
Denise Starr: Whatever you feel... He'd want to hear you be genuine with him. He wouldn't want you to be something or someone you're not...
.:: Jake sighs, and nods. ::.
Denise Starr: I'll go help everyone with their stuff... You talk with him...
.:: Jake simply nods again, and slowly approaches the door to his father's room. The sound of the machines beeping, and the oxygen machine breathing for him is all Jake can hear. He walks in, one silent step at a time, before finally breaking the effective silence with a call to his father. ::.
Jake Starr: Umm... Hey Dad... This feels, wrong... It feels like you're being punished for my deeds and this is somehow supposed to make me feel even more guilty... I mean, we've been in this situation before. The roles were reversed, but we were here, just like this, where I was the one in the bed, and you were the one talking to me. I guess, maybe, it also tells me that if this is the same situation, I know you can hear me. I could always hear you, but I couldn't respond. So I'm hoping that's the case...
.:: Jake goes and sits in a chair by the bed. ::.
Jake Starr: You know... When I got the message about you being here, I was completely stunned. I was more blindsided than I was about anything else, maybe outside of learning about Jordan. And speaking of Jordan, I felt it was right to make sure she knew what had happened. I don't know if she will do anything about it or not, or if she even cared, but I think this is something she deserves to be in the loop about. I don't know y'alls story, nor am I going to get involved, bur it just felt like the right move...
.:: Jake begins to get a little choked up. ::.
Jake Starr: Dad... None of us know how serious this is for you. We have all been told to just wait it out. But you're about to have your granddaughter here by your side as well, and if she's not enough strength to pull through, I don't know what is. Personally... I can feel you fighting. I think we may have our roles reversed here, but I think we both felt one another's fight to get better. I don't know what effects this will have on you...
It was at this moment things began to get hectic. First I was distracted by something in the hallway, and then the machines surrounding my dad all began to go off at once. I quickly stood up, and froze. I then ran out of his room and before I could say anything, I'm hearing phrases like "get the cart," and "BP is dropping fast." I stared blankly, not realizing the severity of what I was watching, and as I did so, Mara runs up beside me and turns to see the melee going on as a team begins to try and stabilize and get him back to where he was. I push Mara toward Brandon and he gets her out so she doesn't see anything, and I have to hold my mom back from running in to his room as well. We, again, were powerless to do anything but watch, and that's what we did, as I tried my best to stay strong and show the same amount of emotion as my dad would have if the roles were reversed.