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Music and lyrics by Brian Warfield. Finn Balor and other WWE characters are property of WWE. I own nothing! Except my character, Darcy! Enjoy!
Finn stepped off the plane and breathed in the deep, comforting aroma of his homeland. He glanced around at the busy metropolis that was Dublin. One match tonight, and then he had the rest of the two weeks off.
Free to sleep as late as he wanted. Sometimes, he wondered what I would be like if he didn't work for WWE, or if he'd never chosen wrestling at all.
He might have had a normal life. 9-5 and coming home every night. Eh, who was he kidding? That wasn't the life for him. He could never be satisfied by a life as simple as that.
He craved the adventure. The new places. The adrenaline. The praise and glory. The fame. The money. The passion of doing something he loved. What he was meant to do.
He didn't bother checking into a hotel like the rest of the superstars. He knew he would be driving home later that night. Rather, his uncle's house. And then to take care of the will first thing in the morning.
Later that night he was basking in the love that the Irish fans were giving him. There was nothing like coming home...
He stood on the ramp and took one last bow before disappearing backstage. He quickly said his goodbyes and headed out. It was late, and dark on the road from Dublin to Bray and he was having trouble staying awake. He started humming an old favorite of his...a song he used to sing to...someone.
"You've captured the blue from the violets empty
You've borrowed your smile from the sun in the sky
For you are a rogue and your thieving's extensive
You had stolen my heart with your true Irish Eyes"
He smiled.
"Forgot how much I like that." He said to himself as he was pulling in the drive of his uncle's house.
The place was orderly, but not entirely neat. There were papers strewn about, shoes laying here and there. A pang of sadness rushes his heart. It was obvious his uncle was not expecting to leave this world any time soon.
A stroke took him in a flash. Finn hadn't seen his uncle in years. Not since he left home. He picked up a paper from off his uncle's desk and looked it over.
"Home." He scoffed with sarcasm in his voice. "Yeah right." He tossed the paper onto the desk. This place gave him a weird feeling. Tomorrow he would check himself into a hotel foe the rest of his stay.
Until then he plopped down on the couch and quickly dozed off to sleep. His dreams were invaded with images of true Irish eyes.
Although not violet like in the song. They were a stormy gray. Framed by black silky hair. Darcy. A delicate hand reached out to touch his face, but then it was gone.
"Fergal..." He heard a woman's voice whisper.
He jumped awake. His heart was pounding. He muttered a string of curses. He looked around the room, half convinced that the place was haunted.
Finn checked his watch and decided he had enough time for a run before he had to be at the lawyer's office. He got dressed and jogged down the country lane. This was the Ireland he missed. The country he longed for when crowded American cities were too much for him.
He longed for open fields, sunrises over the sea, the brisk chill of the morning. He breathed it in. There was nothing like it. He glanced at his watch. It was time to head back and get this business taken care of finally.
The matter took a lot longer than Finn expected. As it turned out his uncle had left him the house, and his car along with most of his worldly gains and possessions. There was no other family, but seeing as he hadn't seen the man in 15 years he never dreamed... He thought maybe he had a friend he would leave things to, but no, just Fergal Devitt.
He'd be a liar if he said he wasn't surprised. Of course, he could be a liar anyway. What made him think that? He had never considered himself a liar.
But you are, aren't you?
Deep down he knew it was true. He broke the most sacred promise he had ever made. To her. He promised to marry her. To love her forever. He gave her hope.
False hope.
He did love her back then, but he loved himself more. He wanted what he wanted and she wasn't really a part of his vision. He knew that deep down even if she had agreed to go with him that it wouldn't have worked out.
He had to push. To climb. And his ambition would have ruined them both. So, in the long run it was better that she hadn't gone. But still, there was the matter. That unresolved piece of life he had long hidden.
After 15 years he doubted an apology would mean very much. And what was making him feel like this all of a sudden. He smirked. The magic of Ireland playing tricks on a lad. That's all it was.
Harmless spirits conjuring up the past in an attempt to make a fool of him.
"Well it wont work." He said sternly into the night as he walked to his rental car. All the legends and spirits of Ireland were no match for The Demon.
He needed a drink. That's exactly what he needed