Penance #3 - Jonny Freeman vs. Chris Savage

[A.K.]

.

[Chris Savage]

[OCC: My apologies, I forgot about RPing tonight and tomorrow is the very last day of my exams. I could write up to twelve but it would only hurt me in the end. Also I heard that Jonny is going to be taking a leave of absence. I'm sorry to hear that, but I can't wait to get you back.]

"Rockstar. The Rise. The Fall. The Savage."

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A trip the wonderful medical hospital filled with old people and the slowly dying. That sweet smell of death and corpse lurking all around the hallways like a scented candle fills up a room. When you first smell this, there is only a number of place you could be if you're Chris Savage. Number one and most obviously, a hospital. And number two, it was the most recent dead smell of Chris Savage's ideal career after he took a loss to the United States Championship after he threw everything he possibly could as the old man. A burning rage that lived inside of him grew bigger and bigger every week it seemed, there was always a new match available to keep the old flame on fire. Fortunately for Chris, or unfortunately, he was inside of a hospital because that was the so called 'requirement' of a Sin City Wrestling wrestler. Wrestler must be able to attend all shows on time and wrestler must have a physical and an a O.K. from his or her doctor. Or at least that's what The Ambassador told Savage in between his rants about the basics of a great brawler and the pros and cons of being a Republican.

Three rows stretching up and down the waiting room of the hospital. Only about a third of these filled and typically Chris was the one getting stared at like he was the ape in the primate exhibit in the local zoo. He somewhat expected it because people always have their ways of staring at the guy wearing a black shirt underneath a sleeveless jacket with arms full of tattoos and a shaved head. Chris's hair usually shaved had been growing in a little bit to his crew cut because of his lack of a desire to shave. The past few days had been surrounded by thoughts inside of him questioning him on a disappointing loss. Always a disappointment. Always a disaster. The inhabitants of the waiting room though were all the same, three old men, one an elderly couple and the other a guy wearing glasses bigger than his entire face. Two older gentlemen, maybe late forties. And finally one mother clearly used up with her two kids.

The little boy seemed to be aware of his city and watching a little bit too much wrestling before the old SCW went down. On his back the shirt of an exclusive Jonny 'The Rockstar' Freeman, a big star with the rockstar symbol and the man playing his guitar staring on the side and working it's way up the back. How did he know all of these details? Because he had spent several days working as a back-up shirt salesmen when he could have been working. Typical idiots in control of a company full of idiots paying a roster full of idiots and one of those idiots who had sank down to a major pay-cut and took time of his drug binging wads Jonny Freeman. A former World Champion and an obvious top superstar on the roster for reasons that everyone should know. For example, he was a druggie, if there is one thing the entire world has found out from television it;s that if you have a raging problem with any sort of illegal narcotic or alcohol, you secretly have the entire world following behind you. Then you wonder why they drown themselves in a bottle, the typical circle of life based around attention. If Jonny Freeman wasn't dying for everyone ounce of attention he could forcefully drain out of an audience, then he wouldn't have killed his father and got over it with a big ole snort of cocaine and a bottle of whiskey. Attention. Something Chris apparently never got enough of. His dark expression as the kid moved toward him with his mother behind him so Chris couldn't bitch out and just ignore the kid. He had in his hand a toy action figure, a couple of years old at the most of Freeman with a shy smile on his face. Chris rolled his eyes as the kid pulled out a silver marker.

"Please sir, would you please sign this for me Mr. Savage?"

The mother looked down on him with blinking eyes as if he she was a reason for him to suddenly open up his heart for the first time in 28 years and turn into some moaning groaning happy snowman in Sin City. He paused for that moment with a black look on his face, all dark around his eyes as he stared in on him. Finally he just took the toy which was most likely sold for more than what Freeman even makes anymore for one match and uncapped the marker going to work all over the thing. He finished with a quick smile and handed it to him. The boy grew a face full of excitement and began to read exactly what the independent star had wrote to him and then looked up with a face full of disbelief. The mother read it from above him and gave the same exact expression matching the eyes of her son. Genetic played a good role in the looks of the two. The front of the box read: 'To my number one fan, go fuck yourself.'

"Who do you think you are writing this to a child?"

"A superstar. Not so much a washed up rockstar now only supported by ten year olds that used to thrive on some junkie. So I want you to watch kid. Tell your little washed up mother here to drag you to the arena so that you can see what it is that you could be playing with. An action figure that would have sold out if they had recognized true talent before the place went down in the shitter. Because this week on Penance or whatever you can even call it, there will only be myself and myself in that ring. Me being the fresh wrestling talent that was never discovered. And Jonny Freeman being the enslaved man that I used to be. They tell you that you should live free or die. Death will not be an option on Wednesday, it will be mandatory."

The sliding glass window slid open and the hefty nurse behind the counter screamed out the next patient.

"Chris Savage."

He smiled,waved and walked away.