2014.06.28: PWN - LEGACY - Pump the brakes kids

It was an early Saturday morning on the West Coast. The time change wasn't working so far, and the mental clock for Duke Andrews was still off. It was getting better, it was getting a little more on track, but he was still used to the Eastern time zone. At this point, the sun was already shining, seemed as if it never set out here. Peeking through the windows of the master bedroom, causing Duke to finally get up. He peeked over and looked at th clock, the grey colored walls, almost a bright white as the sun glistened into the room.

6:12 AM

The right hand runs down, wiping away at his face as he sits up. The long blonde hair of his wife cascading down over her shoulders, the sheets pulled up, the bed a mess as Duke swings his legs. This was her dream, living on the west coast. Living in Los Angeles. The media hub of the country. The old saying, "a happy wife is a happy life" really fits in this situation.

Waking up at this time wasn't what Duke enjoyed. That's why he didn't have a nine to five job. But it was something that he would eventually manage to overcome. The days got longer, the sun was out longer, the weather was warmer. All positives. And then there's the new job. Finding himself working for the first time in a couple months. It was the point in Duke's career that he didn't have to work if he didn't want to. He made his money, he made his name, now, this was for fun. That's where the new found passion was coming from. That's where the new found love of the industry was coming from. He was away from the old home, the place he knew he'd always be welcomed back. He was away from the one place that helped him establish his name in the industry.

The day was fairly normal. It moved along fast, it moved along like every day does. The one thing he didn't really get yet was everyone who was snapping pictures. Wherever he went, wherever he went, people wants pictures. Wanted stories. Maybe it wasn't of him, maybe it was Nicolette, but still. It wasn't the midwestern life that he was used to.

Perched at a table outside of a small cafe, Duke and Nicolette tried to live as normal as can be. But that stopped immediately when Duke was photographed by some new found wrestling junkie that was trying to just get web clicks. Duke obliged as he allowed the photos to be taken. Dressed in a white and light blue plaid shirt, he finally motioned the guy away.

"It's not the life I'm used to."

He raised the glass of water to his face. He knew maybe one day he'd get used to it, but right now, it wasn't allowing him to focus on what was coming up. A rematch of sorts with Drew Stevenson. He knew everything there was to know about Drew. He knew everything that Drew was capable of, and he knew everything that Drew can and can not do in the squared circle. It wasn't a match he was sweating. It wasn't some big secret that they've faced off more than one can count.

So when Drew opened his mouth, trying to sound big and bad because he has Decaine in his corner, it was more than a laugh to Duke Andrews. It was more than a lie and a half that came out of his mouth. Duke took his card back from the waiter and signed the slip before he and Nicolette stood up. Walking down the steps back to the road, they decided to take a walk as they began to be followed by the same guy as earlier.

Nicolette leaned in, placing her hand near Duke's ear as she whispered something. Her voice soft as Duke slid his sunglasses down over his face.

"You want a story?"

The guy nodded his head, "yes, yes, anything!"

Duke nodded his head as they slowed their pace down. The sun bouncing off of windows of the buildings along the street.

"Drew Stevenson, for years has been one of the names that brings the casual fan into watch a show. He's one of those guys that's been around for a while, bouncing around and helping build a promotion. He's been one that's won multiple championships. A big pat on the back for a sure fire hall of famer."

Duke and Nicolette came to a stop, standing at a stop sign.

"But the guy and I have been around the world together. We've traveled in the same car from show to show in various promotions. We've been in that ring more often than not with eachother. And before I continue running down the list of everything, let me point out that Drew Stevenson has a bit of a cloudy memory. That could be from being dropped one too many times on his head, but thirteen Drew?"

Duke shakes his head as the group of walkers, mainly tourists crosses the street.

"You did have the upperhand at first. I'll give you that, but thirteen? Was that some number you just grasped at? You want to go back to Chicago? You want to bring up that company? Let's talk facts, because well Drew, Facts Are Mean. Facts represent truth. I was fresh to the business, still wet behind the ears and I at that point looked up to the emerald. I wanted everything he had. You did, yes you got the better of me, not just then, but in Vegas, and a couple more stops before the tide turned. And when it turned, you got scared Drew. You didn't want to get into the ring with me. You didn't want to step into that ring with me."

Once they finally hit the other side of the street, Duke and Nicolette turn right, heading down the sidewalk toward a line of cars parked along the side.

"But, let's face facts Drew. What happened the last time we got in that ring together? It wasn't that long ago. Let's go back to North Carolina. And skip the nonsense, skip the bullshit, who wasn't standing there with their hand held high? Because I know I was. I know that I again beat you. The common theme over the last half of our little rivalry. So when you want to talk facts Drew, let's include all of the facts. Don't give half the story."

Duke and Nicolette reach her car, a black CLS63 Mercedes Benz. Duke stops as he leans against the drivers side door.

"I know that everything you talk about, is some fantasy, just a hyped up dream you've got. You say you've got the woman, the same woman you bedded to get your name at the top of the list in Grand Rapids? Well if you want to start comparing Drew, I mean..."

Duke nods over as Nicolette smirks into the camera.

"And I don't need someone like Decaine to stand in my corner Drew. You know that. You know that I don't need the help to beat you...unlike you, I can do the job on my own. I always have, and beleive me Drew, at Independance Day, you and I will go 'round and 'round in that ring. But it won't be as pretty as you expect. I have everything I need right here."

Duke looks down at his body and back up.

"I'm glad you're confident Drew. It makes me happy seeing you as proud as you are right now. Hell, if I went to every company that opened their doors and beat the slugs like you have, the Matt Wards, Salman Van Dams, and built up win after win against less than stellar competition I could be in the same cloud as you. But see Drew, you claim you ONLY sign in those companies where the grass is greener. So by those words, when I am done with you, when I have you beat and you have to face the music of being full of shit, you're going to run. And probably end up somewhere back home in Missouri. You'll end up back where "everyone loves Drew Stevenson". And you'll rebuild your ego, and you'll rack up a couple wins, you'll find someone to give you another fifty dollars for gas and you'll drive to the next promotion to continue living on in your clouded legacy."

Duke put his hand on the door handle before pulling it back.

"This so called Stevenson Era, you keep running your gums about, seems really like the flashbacks you keep talking about. You talk about this as how you've evolved. How have you evolved Drew? The last time your name was headlining shows, you had management in your back pocket, and now, you've just got some skeevy, creepy man in your back pocket. But hey, if that's what you like, we are in California and they don't frown upon the man on man like they do back in the MidWest."

Duke moves his hand back away from the door handle. A few people have gathered around the car, hearing what Duke was talking about, hearing the response to what most had probably heard from Drew Stevenson. Hell, it was the same four sentances repeated about two hundred times each.

"And as for you Decaine, you want to talk about how I haven't shown any heart here in California? Maybe that's because I hadn't even signed my name on the contract until just a few days ago. Y'know, when this card was announced, the ink on my contract wasn't even dry. The pen came off the paper, and the buzz started. So maybe think of this, you have this company full of stars, guys like Christian Othniel, Scotty Addams, and yet Duke Andrews finishes his contract and boom, he's thrown into the Main Event. This seems to not line up with the story you're trying to push there is it."

Duke rolls his eyes under his glasses.

"Decaine, you and I have known eachother in passing, never more than a hello here and there, and that's because I don't need you nor do I need your services. I have built my name on my own. But back to your theory of how I'm only known here and there, my name is only popular in certain parts of this country and world..."

Duke pauses, a large group has gathered. Some just stopping because other people have stopped, others intent on listening to every word Duke was saying.

"I don't sign on in every new company like your guy Drew, so maybe you're right with that. But I'm damn near three thousand miles from my home and I don't think I'm doing too bad right now. I think I've got this little market under control. But you keep believing the garbage you're letting come from your lips. Keep thinking that the only guy here is Drew Stevenson. Keep thinking that, because that means at Independance Day, it'll just be a little more sweet when Drew is finally put down. When this mini run of his, the one where he thinks it'll lead to the Legacy Championship, but let's just pump the brakes kids, and come back to reality."

Duke grabs the handle to the car and gets inside as the scene fades to black.