Post by Deleted on Jan 11, 2014 19:54:06 GMT -5
January 10, 2014
Fort Wayne, IN
Allen Country War Memorial Coliseum
David GS and his manager, Kyle Mathic, stand in the mouth of a corridor to the side of the Mayhem stage, concealed from the fans and cameras by a metal overhang that juts out above them. Mathic leans against a concrete wall that curves around to meet the side of the stage, and the Phenom himself stands a few feet away, arms folded over his chest, watching as the five members of the Corporate Power - Scorpion, Brandon Bash, Ryan Mercury, Venus, and Jackson Frost - prosecute their assault on the retiring Adam "Black Man" DePaolo. Kyle winces as DePaolo is dropped again and again, first by Ryan Mercury's Deathtouch and then by Bash's Wicked Prayer. DGS, on the other hand, remains impassive, merely taking the scene in and displaying no outward reaction whatsoever.
Kyle: Are you gonna help him?
David remains silent, watching as DePaolo is picked up and put right back down by Jackson Frost's Frostbite.
Kyle: Dave?
DGS: Quiet.
The former World Champion's lips press together into a grim line as, at last, Scorpion puts the final nail in the coffin with the Scorpion Drop. As the Corporate Power gathers up the Black Man's remains and removes him from the ring, he at last turns and walks over to Kyle, leaning against the wall next to his childhood friend. Kyle looks out into the arena, as the five assailants retreat up the ring, DePaolo's motionless form slung over Venus' massive shoulder, and shakes his head.
Kyle: Some things never change, huh?
DGS: No.
David's eyes narrow, tracking the Corporate Power and zeroing in on Scorpion in particular as the group finally disappears backstage.
DGS: But some things do.
Kyle shoots him a sidelong glance, unsure what to make of the statement. Getting nothing in terms of feedback, he eventually pushes off from the wall and starts to head to the arena's loading area.
Kyle: ... right. I'm gonna go pull the car around.
DGS: All right. I'll be out in a minute.
Kyle nods, moving further down the corridor and disappearing around a corner. David remains leaned against the mouth of the corridor, watching as the fans begin filing out of the arena. He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. After a moment his posture, which had begun to slump as though bearing a great weight, straightens as he senses someone watching him. Turning to look back down the corridor, his eyes narrow and he steps away from the wall, eyeing someone whose face he cannot quite discern in the dim light.
DGS: Can I help you?
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TBC: Anyone