Time is an amazing thing. Even when it flows just as it's expected to, it will forever find a way to catch up to, and surprise, each and every last one of us. No matter the place, no matter the person... time brings us memories that cannot be forgotten-- for better or for worse.
April Fourth, Two-Thousand and Six. A tall, glass building operating as a company headquarters stands out against the daytime sky, and the blazing sun watching over it from behind. Within the building, literally hundreds of people-- employees, guests, clients... you name it-- were mulling about, doing their jobs, involved in important meetings... or, in the case of two particular men walking through a hallway, on the way to finalizing an important contract.
The men were close to the same age; however, the older man wore a formal suit and carried with him an aura of self-importance, a kind-of kingly swagger that, he at least hoped, showed the second man his place in the company quite well.
"So, as you can see... we are a company that has built on itself for many years now, and has taken its fans on a journey we hope won't end any time soon."
His name was James L. Rockingwell, the acting Chief Executive Officer of No Limits Championship Wrestling, known less formally as "JLR" by the majority of those employed by the company. A representative of the NLCW's Board of Directors, JLR personally made himself responsible for every newly hired athelete the company took in... all the way down to their introduction to the company's headquarters themselves.
He smiled. James L. Rockingwell was a man who loved to smile, to put everyone around him in as laid-back a condition as possible. He recognized vulnerability in an instant-- a corporate shark through and through-- and it was through relaxing his prey that he could better scout them. Throughout the entirety of his introduction... he'd made it apparent it was all a simple formality, the true test coming from the reactions made to the information given.
"We take pride in our product... not unlike your old home in the HWF, actually. We keep promotional flyers, posters and memorabilia scattered throughout the building on walls, a real showcase of our company's incredible history."
He was also a very, very proud man... something he'd go on to prove several times on live television-- though, not always with the best of results. James L. Rockingwell, in many ways, considered himself a power-player in the creation of the NLCW empire, an irreplaceable piece to the federation's puzzle of success. He would approach dying federations, purchase small-time rights for various ideas they'd employed. Hire members of their roster still desperate for work.
I was one of those hirings... I'd just turned out to be the only one to stick.
As I watched James L. Rockingwell give a tour to the greasy-haired, medium-statured man I'd come to know as one of my oldest rivals of yesteryear, I couldn't help but smirk to myself. Matthew Logan wouldn't care about any of these nuances... not back then, he just wanted the money and a chance to cause some damage. In the end, he wouldn't even get into the NLCW... relegated to starting duty in the LCW. It seemed even the corporates of the company recognized my potential far exceeded his own back then.
I was... happy, at that kind-of decision. I'd made a big mistake back in the Hardcore Wrestling Federation, giving up everything that was important to me in a desperate quest for its most prestigious award... and I'd failed in the end, despite all my self-sacrificial efforts that had nearly sabotaged my career in the process. For me, the NLCW bringing me in with open arms... it was like an offer to start over, to make things right again.
"I'll put a fiver on Logan trying to give Rockingwell a swirley by the time he shows him where the restrooms are."
I laughed. It was nice to be laughing again, I'd been so unhappy for so long because of what had happened... and to be laughing with the man I'd once called my best friend again? It was almost surreal. All the problems I'd caused, every mistake I'd made along the way... Christopher Champion was a forgiving person, or at least enough of one to let my own shortcomings slide in favor of a clean slate in a company he loved dearly.
Still, despite everything looking as good as it did in those days... I never could have imagined that I'd realize the kind-of love that Champion had for the NLCW. I remember looking at all those posters on the walls, all those unfamiliar faces I'd learn to respect along the way. Legends, run-of-the-mill superstars... even the guys who were treated as jokes around the NLCW seemed to serve some form of a serious purpose for the company.
I loved it here almost immediately. I was the longest-lasting member of the Hardcore Wrestling Federation's alumn that had transferred over after the HWF closed, and easily the most successful of the three of us. Matthew Logan got stuck in limbo with the LCW for awhile, never really reaching higher than the midcard in the long run... and Simon Tyrell didn't do much better, either, despite being a former main eventer back in the HWF. He had all the talent to take the NLCW by storm... but I think the HWF's end messed with him too greatly.
In the end... I was the last of our dying breed to break the barrier and make it big. Sure, Champion was a part of the HWF too, but... Champion had always been a part of the NLCW. Even during his time in the HWF he was far too determined to be held down to just one place alone. He... always had a thing for making himself the center of attention; but, then, I suppose everyone knows that by now, right?
I'm going to miss you, Chris... I never could have imagined all of these terrible things would have happened to you, and between us, all those years ago... seeing it now honestly breaks my heart. You were an amazing friend, and the closest thing I've ever had to a brother... and I'm sorry for not being there at a time you probably needed me more than ever.
That day meant a lot of things for me... it meant the start of something new, something that I'd no idea would set me off into one of the most successful careers in the history of the NLCW. Still, even among all of that, there was one other thing that day represented for me... something that, today, has proven to be an important moment of my career in the end.
That day... was the first time I'd met the man called Rick Majors.