Chapter 11
May came and with it the Wrestlemania Revenge European Tour. The guys would stay in Germany for three days having a show in Mannheim the first night, then a day off and then a show in Oberhausen. How ironic. That's where I met Jon the first time two and a half years ago in November 2010.
***Flashback****
November 6th, 2010 was supposed a Girls Day Out. My best friend and me wanted to raid a shopping center and do some early Christmas shopping and to get my mind of off the recent loss of my parents. It was supposed to be fun, until Friday night my best friend Elle called to cancel. She had a soccer game the next day, the second team of her local team needed some players, but I would be really welcome there.
Guess what, I declined and threw the phone on my bed, totally pissed. She did that sometimes. When I wanted to go somewhere she never had time, when she wanted to go somewhere I HAD to tag along, otherwise I was labeled anti-social and boring.
After the death of my parents I had a lot of really late growing up to do, and I was determined to go alone. That is normally not my thing, I like someone to tag along, but I wanted to show her that I was totally capable to go alone. She dared me even in our short phone call.
So the next day around ten I took my little Suzuki Swift Sport, I tiny little sports car, and drove to Oberhausen where the Centro is located, I big mall with all kind of stores and food at every corner.
I reached the mall an hour later and was greeted by a large lunch crowd. I was grateful for my small car and found a good parking space and entered the mall.
I browsed through some electronic stores, tried on some shirts and was surprised that it went really well. It felt a bit awkward being alone there but it got better by the minute.
I had some late lunch and shopped some more until I really had to go to the bathroom.
The bathrooms are located at the top level in a corner so I went there, did what I came to do and left, leaving the cleaning lady one euro and browsed through my phone on my way out.
Not paying attention to my surroundings I bumped into someone and heard a very annoyed "Bloody hell, watch where you go!" I think I turned beet red and saw what happened. A man, a good 4 inches taller than me stood there around the corner I just turned, a big coffee splash on his shirt. He tried to hold the shirt away from his chest, it must have been really hot. His blazing blue eyes bored into me angrily and his shaggy dark blond hair which covered his front head unruly did nothing to hide the little daggers he was shooting my way.
"What is your problem? Are you blind or something? You can't just run around smacking into people!" He drawled angrily.
I have to say, I am good at English, I watch TV shows in English and I read English, but he was furious and talked really fast and I was in Germany for God's sake, I was expecting a rant in German. So I must have looked rather dumbstrucked because he mumbled something not very nice under his breath and was turning around, obviously he had decided that I couldn't understand him.
"I am sorry Sir. I wasn't paying attention. Let me get some paper towels." I didn't wait for a reply and went to get some paper towels and I was surprised he was standing there where I left him, carefully eying me as I neared him.
"Careful Blondy, the coffee is actually hot and I don't like pain as much as it may seem."
Blondy? Not liking pain? He didn't strike me as a BDSM type in his jeans and white, well now white and brown T-Shirt. Oh yeah, It was a T-Shirt, in November! Guess all those muscles kept him warm quite nicely.
"My name is Sam. And I am normally not that clumsy. Here you go." He took the paper towels and tried rather unenthusiastic to dry his shirt.
At that point I was wondering why the hell I gave a stranger my name. I am not an outgoing person. Really not. Maybe he broke the ice speaking English, I love the USA, so that might have been a reason. But his eyes and whole demeanor was rather scary. So again, no reason at all to exchange names.
"I would really like to buy you a new coffee and a new shirt, I am really sorry." I was babbling, but he remained silent and now looked at me again. I am not looker, I am below average. That's the truth, I don't play myself down or anything. Being 6ft tall for a woman is not easy, you are not a size zero, willowly girl but rather a good sized kind of girl. I was thin though but thin on 6ft means you pack more pounds than the 5ft girl next to you. I rarely met men taller than me but the now very quiet guy next to me was taller and well build. A bodybuilder perhaps or something. He wasn't pretty, not at first sight at least, and definitely not when he was angry, then he was downright scary. But now, being calmly checking me out trying to figure me out maybe, he was a bit cute.
"It's cool, my friend will be here any minute, I already bought some shirts, I will change. And I don't need another coffee I am hyped enough as it is, I need to wind down for tonight." he explained. Or rather not explained he was talking in riddles to me.
"Hey Jon, there you are, what the hell happened?" Another guy approached us, carrying some bags with him. He was studying this Jon guy and his coffee splash.
"Nothing, give me my bag." Jon ignored the questioning gaze and grabbed one of the bags and pulled out a black T-Shirt with a skull on it. He ripped off the price tag and before I could realize what happened he pulled off his strained shirt and stood there half naked in the mall as if it was perfectly normal to dress there. And boy, he was build under that shirt as well. No real six pack, but definitely more muscles then the average guy.
I forced myself to look away and scanned the area for security because I was damn sure that changing in the middle of strangers would not be tolerated.
"Shy Blondy?" he asked while pulling his new shirt over his head. He had a smirk on his face, enjoying my discomfort.
"No, just making sure I don't spend the afternoon in some stuffy office explaining why you offended the public." I replied dryly. Hey I was really proud that my voice sounded so nonchalant.
Jon's friend laughed out loud. "It's Jon's only goal in life to offend the public"
Jon wasn't so happy about my comment, he didn't smile but checked me out again. "So I offend you Sam? With my hideous body? All those ugly muscles? Those piercing blue, crazy eyes? Those masses of fluffy hair?" His gaze never left my face and he was waiting for an answer.
"Your hair is nice." I replied vaguely gesturing to his head. And now he smirked.
"Do you have any idea who I am? Are you into sports Sam?"
I didn't know when I became Sam instead of Blondy. It seems when he was trying to make a point it was Sam. Well, I preferred my name every time over the snarky remark about my hair color.
Jon's friend watched us like a tennis match, his head turned from Jon to me and back.
"A football player? I hate football." He raised one brow. "That's soccer, you are American, right?" I clarified.
"I am American alright. Name is Jon Moxley, I am a wrestler." he replied in a tone with just a hint of pride in it.
My eyes must have turned into little saucers and I eyed him sceptically.
"I never saw you in the WWE." I watched wrestling since I was five. Never ever did I saw this guy on TV.
"Ahhh, so you know wrestling, but not Jon Moxley? Shame you only watch the mainstream show Sam" he replied a bit annoyed.
"He wrestles in The Indies, he is rather famous there for the hardcore shit he does" explained his friend. "And listen Jon, I will head back now, you coming?"
Jon checked his watch, then took another look at me. And all of a sudden he was smiling full force at me and my knees went weak for a moment but I remained cool on the outside.
"Go ahead Sami I somehow will get back to the hotel. Could you take my stuff?"
His friend nodded and walked off.
"So Sam, you know wrestling and are a fan, right?" All of a sudden his arm was around my shoulders and he smelled really good so close to me.
"Yes, I am a fan for over twenty years, but just WWF/WWE wrestling I have to admit. I know nothing about the indies."
Jon mustered me a moment. "What about that coffee you promised?" He was already walking away and when I didn't follow he grabbed my hand and touching his skin sent a jolt trough me.
"There is a Starbucks" I replied and was dragged away by him. He was strong, really strong but gentle, he didn't hurt me, just pulled my along.
"Show me" he instructed and we went to the food court where a small Starbucks was located.
He ordered another coffee, black and I went with an iced Caramel Latte.
We sat down and I really didn't know what I was doing here. I was miles out of my comfort zone here.
"So?" I asked with a small voice after he just sat there and looking at me.
"Yes, so. What are you doing tonight?"
"I have something really urgent to do at home." It spilled out of my really quick but it was a lie and Jon called it. He leaned back in his chair and pushed the hair out of his eyes.
"I am good at judging people Sam. I know a lie when I hear it. Let me make you an offer. You like wrestling. I love it and I am able to make a living, crappy as it might be, out of it. I have one goal. Being the best. The best of the WWE. Wouldn't it be nice if you could tell your friends in ten years, when I am at the top, that you saw Jon Moxley in Germany before he was the top star of the WWE?"
"My friends hate wrestling. So that is the first problem. Second problem is, I have no ticket to whatever show you will perform at tonight."
Jon made a dismissive gesture. "I take you backstage and you promise to watch my match. Afterwards you promise to give me your feedback, you tell me fair and square to my face if I have what it takes to be the best in the world."
His blue eyes watched me in silent interest. "I wish I could..." I started but he interrupted me.
"Listen Sam. I am not asking you to my hotel room, I ask you to watch my match and give me your opinion."
He was rally good at reading people, because that was my fear somewhat and something I would never ever do.
"You are good." I told him honestly and I have no idea why I was being honest. And instead of looking aloof because of the compliment he relaxed and I didn't even recognized that he had been tense before. Why was he tense?
"I would really like your opinion. I show you around, you watch some matches and later you tell me what you think of the CZW, that's the Indy wrestling company I wrestle for tonight."
"Why me? Maybe I am just a fan girl of Randy Orton and have no idea about wrestling whatsoever."
Now he was laughing quietly. "Randy Orton, huh? You hurt me here Sam. Please come and become a Moxley Girl. I don't know why I want your opinion but once I make up my mind I follow through with it no matter what, I am anal that way"
"Okay, I will try to be there. But when this is some joke..." I trailed of. I was rather insecure, I got hurt by people in the past and I really couldn't wrap my mind around the fact, that a good looking guy like this Jon Moxley was asking me to come to his show.
I shook my head. I couldn't be true, even though I felt something towards him. A connection, not sexual, not back then, but something else.
"Jon, it is all really nice, but why me? Look around." I pointed blindly at the crowd and he snorted.
"Please Sam, step out of your comfort zone and enjoy the evening. I mean no harm, this is no joke and it beats me why I want you there. I just want you there. I am aware that a nice woman like yourself doesn't run around meeting strange man at Indy wrestling shows. That's what a ring rat does. Which you are not, that is a compliment by the way. So, here goes. My name is Jonathan Good, I am originally from Cincinnati, Ohio. I was born at Dec. 7th 1985. All I ever wanted to be was a wrestler and I followed that dream all on my own. I am no third generation boy who just got into wrestling because his Pa called in a favor with Vinnie Mac. I did everything a achieved on my own. I mean no harm, I will act really nice around you, and I will make sure you get home safely. Please?"
After this little confession the first thing that popped into my head was the following. "You are almost 4 years younger than I am." I blurted out. Jon blinked a couple of times and than laughed wholeheartedly. "That is everything you caught from my speech?" He grinned.
"No, no." I got a bit angry. "I also noticed that you dissed Randy Orton, you made fun of Mr McMahon and that you are a selfmade superstar."
"See, I knew you were more than a fan girl." He clapped his hands and I rolled my eyes.
"This is no joke Jonathan Good?" I asked and he shook his head
"Where do I have to be and when? And just for the record. I don't normally do that!" It was important to me that he knew this.
He took a pencil and scribbled something on the napkin.
"Ask for Jon Moxley, tell them you are on his guest list. Oh and I will need your full name and bring some identification just in case."
"It's Samantha Walsh. And no, I am not British or American, only a quarter Irish on my fathers side but we are full blooded Germans." I grinned because I got this question a lot with the name and all, but my native tongue was German and only that, my father taught me just a few phrases in gaelic but I learned English purely at school.
"I want to make a joke about the Irish so badly right now." Jon had a little shine in his eyes, pure mischief.
"What is holding you back?"
He shook his head. "Not today Sammy, not when we just start to get along."
I nodded. "Okay, but you will tell me the joke one time, yeah?"
"Absolutely!" He nodded eagerly and added under his breath "as soon as I find some on the internet." and at that he had me laughing really hard and he soon joined me and this was the first real bonding situation I had with Jon.
People were looking at us, but in that moment I couldn't care less. And I was normally someone who used hush hush voices in public, never wanting to attract too much attention. And here I was laughing really hard with this stranger who I knew for less than an hour and I gave a damn. He was good for me in a way few people were in the past. People who could bring me out of my little hole I was so comfortable hiding in.
Once we caught our breath Jon checked his watch. It was after 3 pm.
"I really have to go. I have to get my stuff from the hotel, and I will be at the venue around 5 pm. So when you show up around 6 pm you are on the safe side." He got up.
I got up as well and couldn't stop myself from asking "How will you get to the hotel?"
He shrugged. "A taxi I guess. That's how we got here."
"I could drive you. My car is nearby, it is quicker...well not quicker because I go really slow but maybe easier." I was afraid he would decline and that would really hurt me for unknown reasons.
"Ok, sounds good. Lead the way."
We wound our way through a thickening crowd until we reached my little pride. The black Suzuki Swift Sport waited patiently where I left it.
"You go slow, in this?" Jon had the most unique facial expressions and he looked really weird between me and the car.
"How fast can that thing go? Can I drive? Why do you drive it SLOW? This thing is build for speed!" He rounded the car and stopped at the trunk. "See? Sam come here." Obediently and went to stand beside him and he grabbed my shoulders, turned my to the logo at the back and pointed animatedly at it. "SPORT Sam. It says Sport. Please, please don't tell me you drive this car like a granny!" His eyes were wide and he never let my shoulders go.
"Every once in a while I go over 80 mph. It can reach up to 120 mph though." He shook his head.
"Please tell me you are kidding." He watched me carefully now with an intense stare.
"Nope." I said and shook my head now. "I like to drive safely. Come on, you have a match tonight, you can drive shot gun, because I am the only one driving my baby."
Jon went in, but he almost had to fold himself in half to get into the little car. He toyed around with the seat until he got it all the way back and now he was sitting halfway comfortable.
"Give my the name of the hotel for the gps."
He gave it to me, and after a short search we were on our way. It was only a mere 10 minute ride through stop and go traffic. There was just one red light I ended up first at with a two row lane. Next to Jon was another car with young males in it, an older model VW Rabbit.
Could be fast, could just look fast it was hard to tell. Jon eyed them shortly and looked back at me. And damn he was good at reading people. He figured me out faster than I did.
He tightened his seat belt with minimal movement, grabbed the support bar above him and smirked.
When the traffic light turned green I floored the gas panel and we flew down the street a good couple of meters ahead of the Rabbit.
"We won, we won" Jon exclaimed and raised his fist in victory when the rabbit caught up and passed us by. They were going too fast at this street I had stopped my acceleration at the speed limit.
"Little shits. Everyone can drive fast but to have such a start you need a good car and a good driver. Kudos Sam." He bowed and I grinned. "I forgot to mention I like to do that sometimes. And I sometimes like to toy with cars on the motorway. But I really drive responsible most of the time."
"Yeah I bet. You're straight edge as well?"
Nodding I turned into another street and the hotel was straight ahead.
"Yes I am." I answered honestly. What was it with Jon and honest answers? I must look like the most boring person in the world to him.
"That's a good thing, trust me Sam. I see you tonight?" His words were honest I could tell but I couldn't figure out why he seemed so glad about my way of life.
"I'll see you Jon."
He climbed out of the car, and the hand full of fans who waited outside the hotel spotted him and had him surrounded in no time. He really was famous. WOW.
I spent my time waiting for 6 pm doing some browsing on my smartphone. I wanted to know about Jon Moxley and what I found was scary scary shit. He was a crazy lunatic inside and outside of the ring, different from what I had seen so far of him but it was also him. Like two sides of one coin. It fit.
One of the most funny promos I found of him was the "I want Bryan Danielsons head on a stick" promo. I knew that guy as Daniel Bryan in WWE and to find out he had wrestled against him was great. He had a foot in the door there and with his mic skills and in ring performance it was just a matter of time until the WWE would recognize him.
Around 6 pm and a little wiser about the man I was about to meet again I arrived at the venue and walked trough a small crowd to one of the guards. I told him who I was and that I was a guest of Jon Moxley which earned me evil stares from two females who looked like whores. Literally.
"Jon is ours bitch, stay away from him skank." they told me and came closer. But before they could reach me, the security guy patched my through and I couldn't resist but to wink and smirk at them.
I was led into the venue and someone at the door gave me a backstage pass – all areas thingy. And then I was left there. Great.
Backstage was busy and people were milling around but since I had no clue about CZW or the rooster I stood there for a couple of minutes just watching. Finally someone saw me standing there and approached me, but after the first few words I wished he hadn't.
"Hello there girl. Are you waiting for me?" He invaded my private space and towered over me and I was speechless and a bit scared.
"Hands off Havoc or I beat you to a bloody pulp right here. She is with me." It was Jon and he grabbed my hand and pulled me to his side. Normally I am not a very touchy person but when I was in Jon's embrace it felt good and not weird.
He moved his hand around my waist never moving too low but giving me a short side glance like he was asking my permission.
I didn't answer him but instead looked at this Havoc guy and said:"And after that your head will end up on a stick. Might be the beginning of a collection for Mox."
Havoc stared a little mad at me and Jon pulled me away before the other man could reply something.
We ended up in an empty locker room and Jon closed the door.
"I see you did your homework Sam. Good for you. And you still came. Good for me." He sounded now like in his promos, different than before and it must have shown on my face. He inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly.
"I am sorry. I am already in the zone, and you just insulted the guy who I will wrestle tonight. Look, here is the truth Sam. I am an asshole most of the time, I try hard not to be with you. Moxley and Good we are like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hide. You met the good Dr Jekyll this afternoon and he ejoyed the time with you. Mr Hide is still an ugly asshole towards you because he doesn't know you yet and treats you like he treats everyone." He exhaled again.
"How is that? Down from his mighty horse?" I threw in.
Jon smiled. "Yes, something like that. So...let me try again. I see you did some research. Now you know who you are dealing with. And you still came. Thanks."
That sounded more like the guy I met earlier. "What can I say, I like my men with a loose screw."
And now Jon laughed out loud. "Like Randy Orton I suppose. Never thought I would be compared to him, but out of your mouth I take it as a compliment."He bowed.
"If the shoe fits." I grinned and Jon just eyed me quietly. I couldn't read him quite as well as he could read me, it would take more time for me to come to the point to read him just looking in his eyes. But that night I couldn't figure him out.
Jon plopped down on a chair. He was still in jeans and his black t-shirt and he began taping his hands, gesturing to another chair were I sat down.
"So how does it work? You got a ritual? You said you are already in the zone. You need time to prepare for the role of Jon Moxley?" Never in my life I was an eager question asker. I liked to watch and learn and I rarely asked people about themselves. With Jon it plopped all just out.
"It's not a role. Not like with Kane or Undertaker or something. They play that and when they pull off their gear they are Glenn or Mark again. Moxley is my invention, it's a part of me as I said. I am a very private person. I have no myspace account or this shitty thing...facemag or whatever the name is. I am quiet, I like to watch, assay a situation and go from there. I can make friends, I like to party but I don't have to. I can be by myself, that's ok for me. But in the ring, there is this wild side, a guy who can't shut up, who needs to get into other peoples' faces. The lunatic fringe you probably saw on the internet. It's my outlet, and I am good at it, and Moxley is a part of me, the guy Jon Good can't be. It is a bit messy sometimes and the lines blur but I hope you get what I mean." He looked up from his right hand which he had taped the whole time he had talked and was finished with.
His blue eyes were intense and bore into me. I am not good with looking people in the eye, but Jon was different in this as well. It was easy for me to look at him and not just because of his looks.
"I guess I understand." I simply answered and he nodded. "I knew you would." He was satisfied and began taping his left hand.
"It's Facebook btw." I murmured and he looked at me like I had spurted a second head.
"You really are not into the internet and stuff, huh?" He shook his head. "Private person."
"I get that, there is not one picture of me on the net but stuff from me, not with my real name but still. I love the internet, it's full of information and I like to learn, to teach myself stuff like building websites there. I hate asking other people for help."
"An autodidact, like myself in a way." They way I must have looked at him when he was hitting me with scientific language must have been damn funny because he snorted and laughed softly. "I am not dumb, I can toss one or two really fancy words out every now and then."
"No, no! I wasn't thinking that!" Somehow my hand ended up on his and he stopped taping.
He glanced at our hands and it seemed like he was arguing with himself to let it stay there or say something so I dropped mine and earned a little sigh from him.
"I have no fancy smancy education, I learned the first steps of wrestling from watching others. It was always wrestling for me, and I more or less started when I was 16. No time for college. Doesn't mean I am dumb." His eyes had turned colder and his stare was hard when he met my eyes.
"I was never not for one minute thinking that you are dumb, or that wrestlers in general have been hit in the head a couple of times too much. You are probably much smarter then I am, also much braver. You followed your dream. I was just surprised someone else even knew the word autodidact because not many people function that way. Asking is so much easier. I never thought you are dumb Jon!" I shook my head vehemently.
"Hit in the head one too many times. You are funny Sam. And it's fine, let people think what they want about me, I don't care." He shrugged.
Oh, but you do care Jon, I thought to myself.
"I am about to do something I never did and I am sorry if I freak you out." I got up and hugged him and he went stiff at first. That was the moment I knew that he was not a touchy person either.
But he relaxed and hugged me back gingerly with just one arm, but oh well.
I stepped back and looked sheepishly.
"Sorry I just...sometimes people like you and me need a hug."
Jon raised one eyebrow. "Yeah? I guess I got one because I was sounding pretty pathetic, why do you need one?"
"My parents died a couple of month ago, I am pretty lonely, we were close, and I really suck at connecting with other people. With you, it just clicked. When tonight is over and I never see you again, I have at least the memory of a hug that meant something."
"I am sorry for your loss but I liked that you didn't make it about your parents. You are not fishing for sympathy."
"Nope."
He nodded. "It clicked and I promise we will stay in touch Sam, I like you, you are crazy, I like your humor."
I grinned. "We could skype!" Jon was finished taping and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Absolutely not. We can call." "It is too expensive and I hate calling people. It is kinda my job, and go figure how much I like my job then."
"Why do you do it then?" Shrugging I sat down again. "Need the money, have no real dream job on my mind, beside maybe writing novels or some internet shit."
"Why don't you write then? Do internet shit?"
"I am to scared to leave something I know to venture into the unknown. That's what I admire about you. You followed your dream, you are here today and hell in a couple of years I will watch you on TV and be damn proud."
Jon looked at me with a very odd expression and turned around abruptly. "You should follow your dreams Sam and get out of your damn box girl." he said almost angrily and went to his bag getting out his spandex briefs and a black t-shirt saying "Explicit Mox Violence".
"I need to change now and you should find a seat." When he looked at me again he was his old self and this weird moment had passed.
Who Jon knows, knows, that he plans ahead several steps. He tries to follow them but if he has to detour, he will. That night he got into his head that he would make sure that I would get the chance to not only see him on TV but in the audience when he was someone. He also promised himself that he would somehow nudge me in the direction of my dream of writing and internet stuff. Jon Good has his goal always in his eyesight and he got it, but it was a damn long way, and he had to detour more than he liked because I was making it all unintentionally difficult, but we are not there yet.
*** Flashback End***
The rest of the story will be told by Jon at a later point in this story! Stay tuned!