Dominic Pericolo sat on his computer chair, his story staring back at him from the screen with a glow. His eyes were heavy, his body tired as he shook his head in an attempt to stay awake. Just one more line...one more line and he would be done. One more line to capture everything he'd felt since the day the fans betrayed him, since the day the Sharp's once again shot him down.

Inspiration struck like a match as his fingers worked across the keys, his message coming clear to him and slowly being put out onto the screen. Letters soon formed words and the words soon formed a single sentence, completing a work he'd been putting together for most of the night now. Perhaps it was a hope that writing would release his stress that brought him to this, and if so then that hope seems to have paid off. Acting much calmer then he had over the many months before this night, he regarded the words on the screen with a sad smile of acceptance, as a sigh escaped his lips and he lowered his head in shame.

Tina's thinking was true, and her message in the story--Dominic Pericolo's message finally put out in the open, spoke in more volumes then any HWF microphone could handle.

'Dreamers are not welcome in a land of ignorance, and those who try to play the hero will inevitably be destroyed by those who once believed in them. It's a sick, twisted cycle that few will ever break...and it would be unwise to try to do so now.'

Dominic couldn't break the cycle...he'd already met his downfall. Dominic couldn't stay the hero forever...the fans soon dubbed him unworthy of such a title. Perhaps he'd already passed through his prime...perhaps he would never truly accomplish his dreams...but that still didn't stop him from trying.

With a click of the mouse the story was saved, and another chapter was written in the metaphorical novel of Dominic Pericolo's career. His eyes glanced to the title, reading across it as they had several times before, before he clicked out of the screen and began the process of shutting the computer down. The title of the story was burnt into his eyelids however, much as it's content was echoing in bits and pieces throughout his mind, and as he left the room to finally get some sleep he prayed that one day his career would help his story allow him to arise once again.

He prayed that one day he could play the hero once again...and finally break the cycle.

Until then, however...the hero was dead, and on Monday Night Suicide he very well could be too. Simon Tyrell and Matthew Logan...his executioners-in-waiting, two men who hated him just as much as he hated them. Like a lamb being led to slaughter...Dominic would enter that ring with the same determination he always held, and pray that he could just make it out alive.

Yet all he could now was prepare. Prepare for the worst, prepare for the both of them to try to take him out right away...and prepare to have to support himself throughout as the fans stick the knife in his back yet another time. The tables were turned...

..and not even the Messiah could save him now.