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The image repeats itself over and over. Lost in the shuffle, Christian Connolly emerges onto the stage and gets the final word.
Consider your Legacy cemented.
I’ve never been so proud of him. I don’t think there’s a single person who didn’t expect this moment to come. I always knew.
He always knew.
That’s the one thing that drew me towards him in the first place. That’s the one thing that drew him towards me.
We always knew.
It’s for this moment that we both lived. I got there, and I couldn’t be happier that he was the one to fill my shoes afterwards. It’s the way it should be. It just seems right.
The bitter liquid rolls around my tongue. I savour it, absorbing it into me. My body temperature increases at an unnoticeable level. Slowly but surely burning alive. The way God intended it to be. While Christian becomes frozen. The face speaks to me. It tells me all I need to know.
Christian Connolly. The Suntan Superman. C2. The Legacy.
Universal Champion.
“So let me get this straight,” a voice haunts the doorway behind me, “you would rather watch three men bump in grind in the middle of the ring, than actually bump and grind yourself with three women?”
“Just came up here for my jacket Justin.” I motion with my head towards the black suit jacket draped over my right shoulder. With a dark bottle of beer in my left hand, I carefully try to slide the jacket further up my shoulder with the hand attached to the arm that provides the support. No luck. The jacket falls to the ground, where fellow VIP Justin “Raziel” Jones scoops it up and hands it back to me.
“I say it’s time to get back down there to the pit.” We both send a brief glance downwards to the one-way glass floor that gives me a birdseye view of the public section of this establishment. You’d think New Years would be cause for people to go away and spend time with their families. Apparently drunken shenanigans seem to be the only thing that matters though. But who am I to argue with that. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Whatever remained in the bottom of the bottle soon becomes one with my body and I casually toss the bottle into flight towards the rubbish can on the other side of the room. Success. “Happy New Year, eh?”
“It looks like it might be a very happy new year.” He says, nodding as we approach the open door to the room.
“Well let’s do this thing.” Justin walking before me, we step through the doorway into the next lobby-like room. In the middle is the stairway, leading to the enclosure in the middle of the club’s floor. Again Justin goes first as we head down the stairs. Just before my head departs the realm, I fire one last glance towards the picture of my friend standing tall on the giant screen in my office. I don’t know what drove me to look there, perhaps the driving force was a subconscious mechanism, but I look right at the actual Universal Title belt. The strangest thing stands out to me on it.
The name plaque still reads Lee Stone.
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