Remembering Owen: Not Forgotten
(2/4)
Written by:Jen
E-mail:hopefalls2003yahoo.com
Rating:PG-13
Warning: Deals with character death. Kleenex warning, though this one isn't
too bad, I was yelled at for not warning in another story dealing with
death.
A/N: This is a series in tribute to Owen Hart, his life, and tragic death.
He will live on forever. You are not forgotten, Owen.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the WWE or Titan Sports.
I own no claim to anything. This story is based on the interview with Test
from the May 28th Raw, after Owen's death.
Distribution:Ask please.
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Today I lost a man that was very dear to my heart. A man that since my debut in the WWF has been nothing but kind to me. Now, maybe I'm not being completely accurate here. There was the occasional rib.
"Drew..." I'm slowly brought back to reality as my eyes land on a good friend of mine, Dustin Runnels. The redness around his eyes obvious, a sign of his grief.
"Hey Dusty, how ya holdin' up man?" I manage, running a hand over the back of my neck as he seats himself across from me.
"I'm here aren't I?" Dustin offered a slight smile, his eyes studying me for a long moment before he decided to continue. "I need to talk to you about somethin'..."
"Alright." I speak reluctantly, forehead creasing as I wait from him to further explain what he needed to talk to me about. "What's goin' on?"
"Remember when we were in Chicago and there was that blizzard?" He asked a small smile beginning to play on his lips. Slowly, I raise my eyebrow, studying his features: that smirk.
"Yeah, I remember we were supposed to have the 'double-shot' when we were there."
"And you got that phone call?" I purse my lips together, peaked with interest, curious as to where he might be headed with this, running my fingers through my long blond locks. I remain silent as I wait for him to continue. "It was Owen."
(several months earlier, Chicago, Illinois)
Andrew Martin climbed off of his hotel room bed in the early afternoon, watching the snowflakes whirl in rapid succession to the ground. Crossing his arms over his chest, he continued to watch the snowflakes fall. They'd been closed up in the hotel for over 12 hours now.
Today was supposed to be their 'double-shot', but the earlier show that had been scheduled for the morning had been cancelled, and they were awaiting news on the show that had been set for that night.
Andrew began walking to the bed, deciding that while he had a chance he would catch up on some much needed rest. His thoughts were interrupted as the incessant ringing of the phone filled his hotel room. Sighing, Drew trudged to the phone, pulling it off of the cradle. "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Martin, I'm the man in charge of booking the stadium. What should we do about this..." He trailed off as though in thought. "this WWF show, cancel it?"
"Look, man, you've got the wrong guy. I don't know who gave you my number..." Andrew began, his forehead creasing when he was abruptly cut off.
"I was told you were the guy to talk to, sir. You are Test, right?"
"Well, yes, I'm Test." He replied before continuing to profess to the man that he was not the man to talk to about this. That he was not in charge of anything. He was a wrestler. That was all. "Maybe you should try Vince, he's probably the guy that you're lookin' for."
"I'll tell him that Test said to cancel the show."
"Whoa, whoa, buddy... keep my name out of this, alright?"
Click. The line went dead, and all Andrew was left with was the dial tone ringing in his ear.
A smile played slowly across my lips, remembering that day very vividly. He was very tricky and very sly when it came to ribs. I've often thought about that day in Chicago, but never did I think that the culprit behind it had been Owen Hart.
I shake my head slowly, looking across the table at Dustin. I bite down on my lip before my eyes met his.
"I lost a man very dear to my heart today. And now it's time for me to celebrate his life. What do you say?"
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Today I lost a man that was very dear to my heart. A man that since my debut in the WWF has been nothing but kind to me. Now, maybe I'm not being completely accurate here. There was the occasional rib.
"Drew..." I'm slowly brought back to reality as my eyes land on a good friend of mine, Dustin Runnels. The redness around his eyes obvious, a sign of his grief.
"Hey Dusty, how ya holdin' up man?" I manage, running a hand over the back of my neck as he seats himself across from me.
"I'm here aren't I?" Dustin offered a slight smile, his eyes studying me for a long moment before he decided to continue. "I need to talk to you about somethin'..."
"Alright." I speak reluctantly, forehead creasing as I wait from him to further explain what he needed to talk to me about. "What's goin' on?"
"Remember when we were in Chicago and there was that blizzard?" He asked a small smile beginning to play on his lips. Slowly, I raise my eyebrow, studying his features: that smirk.
"Yeah, I remember we were supposed to have the 'double-shot' when we were there."
"And you got that phone call?" I purse my lips together, peaked with interest, curious as to where he might be headed with this, running my fingers through my long blond locks. I remain silent as I wait for him to continue. "It was Owen."
(several months earlier, Chicago, Illinois)
Andrew Martin climbed off of his hotel room bed in the early afternoon, watching the snowflakes whirl in rapid succession to the ground. Crossing his arms over his chest, he continued to watch the snowflakes fall. They'd been closed up in the hotel for over 12 hours now.
Today was supposed to be their 'double-shot', but the earlier show that had been scheduled for the morning had been cancelled, and they were awaiting news on the show that had been set for that night.
Andrew began walking to the bed, deciding that while he had a chance he would catch up on some much needed rest. His thoughts were interrupted as the incessant ringing of the phone filled his hotel room. Sighing, Drew trudged to the phone, pulling it off of the cradle. "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Martin, I'm the man in charge of booking the stadium. What should we do about this..." He trailed off as though in thought. "this WWF show, cancel it?"
"Look, man, you've got the wrong guy. I don't know who gave you my number..." Andrew began, his forehead creasing when he was abruptly cut off.
"I was told you were the guy to talk to, sir. You are Test, right?"
"Well, yes, I'm Test." He replied before continuing to profess to the man that he was not the man to talk to about this. That he was not in charge of anything. He was a wrestler. That was all. "Maybe you should try Vince, he's probably the guy that you're lookin' for."
"I'll tell him that Test said to cancel the show."
"Whoa, whoa, buddy... keep my name out of this, alright?"
Click. The line went dead, and all Andrew was left with was the dial tone ringing in his ear.
A smile played slowly across my lips, remembering that day very vividly. He was very tricky and very sly when it came to ribs. I've often thought about that day in Chicago, but never did I think that the culprit behind it had been Owen Hart.
I shake my head slowly, looking across the table at Dustin. I bite down on my lip before my eyes met his.
"I lost a man very dear to my heart today. And now it's time for me to celebrate his life. What do you say?"