_{Pity Parties are for Rookies}
^{Starring Dan Stein}

The door into the hotel swung open and Stein stumbled in, drunk. He sloppily turned on the light and braced himself on the bed as he made his way to the air conditioner, falling over more than once. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and threw it off of his body into a corner. As he flipped the air conditioner on, he collapsed into the recliner chair almost immediately.

There he slept.

* * * * * * * * *

Stein awoke the next day as the phone in his room blared its ring. He wiped his face and corner of his lips as he crawled across the king sized bed to the phone. When he picked up, the voice on the other end was obviously an automated message, and Stein huffed as he slammed the phone back down.

He rolled over and laid in the bed, looking up at the ceiling. His head was pounding, his heart was slow, and his eyes felt like they were going to burst into dust and float away, they were so dry, but... it was Friday, and he needed to stay awake.

He reached into the pants he was still wearing from the night before and pulled out his cell phone, in between laying his head back and closing his eyes. He moved in the dark, it seemed, pushing buttons without putting the phone up to his head.

Automated Voice: “You have – 2 – new messages. First messa-”

He pressed a button, and listened to the message on speaker phone.

Loco Martinez: “Hey Dan. Its Jay. Umm... I was just calling to say hi. Its be--”

Button.

Automated Voice: “Message deleted. Next message.”

Button.

Cyrus O'Haire: “Dan, it's Russel. Rus' Jr starts school again soon, and he wa-”

He shut the phone, and looked up at the ceiling.

Definitely going to be a long day.

* * * * * * * * *

“My, Caleb. You sure did have a tough time growing up, didn't you?”

Stein looked at the camera, behind the glasses.

“I was right, then. Your father was the type of the guy that would slap the shit out of you for tying your shoes wrong, correct? And you most definitely want to forget about that. Who could blame you? You're still close with your mother, you're worried about making her proud. You're the kind of guy that wants to make something out of his life and show the kids that have been through what you have that they CAN'T give up, just because they're physically abused. That they CAN'T give up, just because time gets tough. That's your driving force, right? Oh, wait – but you don't want that to be the only thing you're about. Just, y'know... something that's there but not... quite... there.”

Stein scratched his head.

“You want people to know you worked hard, but not to make a big deal about how or why? You want the kids to rally behind you, but you don't want to be 'that guy'. Hm.”

Stein scratched his head again.

“You know what I think, Caleb? Not that it matters much, but I think you haven't dealt with what happened in your past. Either you still blame yourself for what happened, or your father died well before you had a chance to prove to him that you're not the same man he was, and because of that, you want ALL the attention that comes with the Child Abuse, but none of the attention that comes from living off of it.

Maybe your mother treated you better because of it.

Maybe you made a couple friends in some sort of abuse class.

Maybe... you've got an Azraith DeMitri complex.”

Stein nodded.

“That's what I think it is, Caleb. I think that you're so used to being in pain that you... get off on it. You live on it. You THRIVE on it.

The feeling you get when you get fucked up makes you feel... normal. You think you deserve it. You're only happy when you get.

BUT YOU KNOW THAT. And it kills you to know that. You want to be the same as everyone else, you want to be... normal. With out the pain.

Which is why you don't want to make it focal point of your career.”

Stein shrugged.

“Or, you're just hell bent on putting that era of your life behind you and moving on, while still acknowledging it's there.

Either way? It will be dealt with before you amount to anything. Not that you're a big pile of nothing right now, I'm sure you're a great guy, and I'm sure you're fantastic in the ring. You've got all this tape on me, and all that I have are some below-averagely produced tapes, I'm sure you're going to come out blazing, and you will put on a hell of a match, whether or not you want to, or... for that matter, are able to. I assure you that.”

Stein shook his head, as though cleaning his thoughts.

“What I mean, Caleb, is that I will help you impress the people around you. I will give you a match that you will remember for the rest of your fucking life, man.

Not because I feel sorry for you - pity parties are for rookies, Caleb – but because I want you to stick around. I want you to PROVE to people that you're ready to be here.”

Stein shrugged.

“My drive to win, Caleb? Fueled by MY dreams, by MY nightmares.

I'm afraid to lose.

I'm scared to fail.

And I'll fight you tooth and nail so that MY demons don't catch me before I do what I have dreamed of since day one.”

Stein nodded.

“Beating you after you put on the show you say you're not sure you're even capable of putting on? The first step in rebuilding my empire.

And the first step in your recovery.”

Stein stared at the camera.

“And the next step in mine.”

Black.