*When it goes in this text, it goes into third person.*


"Why am I being brought in here? I have a match I have to deliver."

Daryl Childress stares at me from his desk, "As of this moment, no you don't."

I stand there in my wrestling attire, my jacket on and my trunks reading "Ruin" on the back, "What do you mean?" I ask, as my heart drops.

Daryl must've seen the look on my face, as he puts his hands up, "Calm down Isaac, you're fine."

"Define fine. If I don't have a match anymore, that means I'm being released."

Daryl just looks at me and doesn't say anything.

"No fucking way."

"Sorry Isaac."

"No you're not," I say, nearly breaking down, "if you were, you wouldn't be doing this shit right now when I had the most important match in front of me."

Daryl stands from his desk, "Isaac, if you let me explain why I did it, you wouldn't be so pissed off."

"No explanation you have will calm me down." I said, about to wreck his desktop.

"Not unless I have news from another wrestling promotion."

I look at him, ""What promotion?"

"The only promotion that matters."

I think and my anger fades away, "You don't mean…?"

"WWE, yep."

"What about them?"

"They contacted me last night when you left after your match."

"What did they say?"

"They are interested in you."

I was lost for words, I didn't know what to think, "WWE… interested in me?"

Daryl nods, "Yep. They even offered money for me to hand your contract to them."

I wait for him to continue but he doesn't, "Did you?"

"I did, effective of this morning."

"So, I'm now officially a WWE employee?"

"Yes, Isaac, you are."

I dance inside, "I'm no longer mad at you."

He laughs, "That's good to know."

Daryl reaches in his desk and grabs a pen, "This is the person you need to contact. Once you have time or you get home, call that."

I grab the paper from his hand and I read the number and the name above it: Paul Levesque.