Author's Notes: First of all, this is my first wrestling story, so anything goes... I love feedback, especially *constructive* criticism. That's how you please writers! ^_^ But, please people, *constructive*... There's really no point in just saying "this sucks, that sucks" without a purpose but for the enjoyment of annoyed people, such as myself. There's no reason to do it, so to be blunt, piss off. OK! Notes part... ^_^ In this story, it's as if the story line was real. To explain... HHH/Steph are really married (were...?), Kane/Taker are really brothers... etc... Make sense? If not, I'm sure that it'll be caught on. To make my point, Rock is single. ^_^ There.
Disclaimers: Usual apply... These do get annoying, don't they? X.X
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Home ~ Prologue
By ~ MÃstico Lobo
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Pain. Hurt. Anger. Frustration. Betrayal. Such small words that meant so much. He had once looked at those simple feelings and brushed them off as if they were nothing more than gnats that stuck to his skin. But that was before they had hit them. Sure, he'd had his share of feelings of being betrayed and hurting, but never before had he looked at them as something he should lose sleep over. He would just brush past them and move on, not wanting to dwell forever. He couldn't afford it. Just how he couldn't afford it now.
So many things had happened over the years... So many things that he didn't even want to remember. But he couldn't help but remember. He could never forget the feelings he felt then, nor could he ignore those feelings now. He was being used.
Of course, he wasn't going to sit and mope about it. That wasn't what he did. Unlike the majority of others, he actually got up and did something about these situations. He knew from a young age that sitting and crying did not get you to the other side of the room where you left your stuffed animal that your mommy had given to you for your birthday last year. No, you had to get off your lazy, crying ass and get it your damn self. It was the same here, except Mommy wasn't here to give you anything, especially a gift-wrapped title. You had to work for it yourself. If you didn't, you'd stay at the bottom where all the shit and piss was that others gave you. That's just about all the gifts you would get, and that sure as hell didn't get wrapped in ribbons and bows.
Sighing, he turned off the television. He had been watching various SmackDown and RAW episodes, not because he enjoyed watching himself get extended `breaks' but because...well, he didn't know. He felt that if he didn't watch them, he would wallow up into the abyss of depression and self-pity; two things that he completely despised in people. He would never go there. How could he? He had his fans to entertain. He had his career to keep him on track. He couldn't go there because he was already there. And it was killing him.
Not physically, of course, but relatively speaking. He stood up from his couch, ignoring the pain that shot through his pain. 'No pain, no gain, right?' He walked to the window of his empty cabin. He didn't want to go to his house. He smirked. House... Not once had he been home. A home is some place where your heart rested, and that was definitely no where. Once upon a time, he would have said wherever the WWF went would be his home, but not anymore. He still loved the WWF without any hesitation; it was his life, but he felt as if he was becoming an outcast. He'd always *been* a loner, but never before had he felt so helpless, so alone.
No use to worry about that, though. He'd been at the bottom before, and this sure as hell wasn't even close to the bottom. He would come back. He would show the whole WWF that he was the greatest thing that had happened to them, and soon it would be *they* groveling to him, begging them for forgiveness. And he wouldn't forgive them because if there was anything he hated more than whiners were beggars. When he came back, he would show everyone just how strong The Rock really was. One way or another, he'd do it. For himself.
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So what do think so far...? Good? Bad? Like I said, all is welcome! But please, save your whining for yourself.
Disclaimers: Usual apply... These do get annoying, don't they? X.X
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Home ~ Prologue
By ~ MÃstico Lobo
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Pain. Hurt. Anger. Frustration. Betrayal. Such small words that meant so much. He had once looked at those simple feelings and brushed them off as if they were nothing more than gnats that stuck to his skin. But that was before they had hit them. Sure, he'd had his share of feelings of being betrayed and hurting, but never before had he looked at them as something he should lose sleep over. He would just brush past them and move on, not wanting to dwell forever. He couldn't afford it. Just how he couldn't afford it now.
So many things had happened over the years... So many things that he didn't even want to remember. But he couldn't help but remember. He could never forget the feelings he felt then, nor could he ignore those feelings now. He was being used.
Of course, he wasn't going to sit and mope about it. That wasn't what he did. Unlike the majority of others, he actually got up and did something about these situations. He knew from a young age that sitting and crying did not get you to the other side of the room where you left your stuffed animal that your mommy had given to you for your birthday last year. No, you had to get off your lazy, crying ass and get it your damn self. It was the same here, except Mommy wasn't here to give you anything, especially a gift-wrapped title. You had to work for it yourself. If you didn't, you'd stay at the bottom where all the shit and piss was that others gave you. That's just about all the gifts you would get, and that sure as hell didn't get wrapped in ribbons and bows.
Sighing, he turned off the television. He had been watching various SmackDown and RAW episodes, not because he enjoyed watching himself get extended `breaks' but because...well, he didn't know. He felt that if he didn't watch them, he would wallow up into the abyss of depression and self-pity; two things that he completely despised in people. He would never go there. How could he? He had his fans to entertain. He had his career to keep him on track. He couldn't go there because he was already there. And it was killing him.
Not physically, of course, but relatively speaking. He stood up from his couch, ignoring the pain that shot through his pain. 'No pain, no gain, right?' He walked to the window of his empty cabin. He didn't want to go to his house. He smirked. House... Not once had he been home. A home is some place where your heart rested, and that was definitely no where. Once upon a time, he would have said wherever the WWF went would be his home, but not anymore. He still loved the WWF without any hesitation; it was his life, but he felt as if he was becoming an outcast. He'd always *been* a loner, but never before had he felt so helpless, so alone.
No use to worry about that, though. He'd been at the bottom before, and this sure as hell wasn't even close to the bottom. He would come back. He would show the whole WWF that he was the greatest thing that had happened to them, and soon it would be *they* groveling to him, begging them for forgiveness. And he wouldn't forgive them because if there was anything he hated more than whiners were beggars. When he came back, he would show everyone just how strong The Rock really was. One way or another, he'd do it. For himself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So what do think so far...? Good? Bad? Like I said, all is welcome! But please, save your whining for yourself.
