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 A Sign... or a Piece of Mind?

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Phillip Phillips
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Join date : 2011-12-23
Age : 34
Location : Detroit, Michigan

PostSubject: A Sign... or a Piece of Mind?   Tue Jun 19, 2012 1:25 pm

The camera faded in to a small room, in black and white. At first, it just zooms in on a boombox, playing Dearly Beloved, from Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day. The camera slowly pans out, and it shows Phillip Phillips sitting in a lounge chair next to the boombox, slightly nodding his head to the beat. As the section of the song began to come to a close, he quietly sang along with a slight grin on his face.

Nobody's perfect, and I stand accused... for lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse...

His smile slowly faded as the song began to transition into Tales of Another Broken Home. He clicked a button on the stereo, and the music stopped. Then, he looked up, and stared solemnly into the camera as the effect faded and the room regained its color.

You know, it's really hard to get along with people when you have to fight them. Defeat them. Beat them to a bloody pulp. For the sake of your own good. But some people... some people really just stand out, among all the others.

He looked down into his lap for a moment, and the camera panned out some more. He was staring down at a photograph. After a few seconds, he picked it up and carefully placed it on the end table next to him. It was a picture of him and Austin Cross, merely seconds after winning the EWF Tag Team Championships.

Some of them, you just really connect to. You don't have the heart to completely annihilate. Some of them don't deserve a career ended. Some of them, deserve the help of yourself. Some of them get that. Austin Cross got that. But now... now, he just doesn't get it. You get it?

He shrugged, then sighed, glancing at the picture again before continuing.

My point is, I helped Austin get to where he is today. I mentored him, I guided him, I taught him. And once he had learned all there is to know, we worked together. As equals. We were a tag team, the best one around. See, there's one thing Austin forgot to mention yesterday. I didn't leave him. He left me.

Phillip got into one of his angry moments, clutching on the armrests of the chair to try to contain himself as he breathed heavily through his gritted teeth.

Over the course of EHDW, Austin left a total of two times. In SWE... he didn't even join at all. He knew I was there. He knew I wanted to work with him. But he chose to leave me. Come AWO, Austin left two more times. Now, fast forward to today. Warfare Entertainment Wrestling. Austin just keeps getting himself into trouble. He's already been suspended two times, in counting. All that totals up to 7. Seven times, Austin left me. Yet I'm the one who used him? I'm the one who took advantage of him for my own fame? Austin, I didn't want to be a singles competitor. I had no choice. With you constantly leaving, what was the point of Decapitation Station anymore? As successful as we could've made it, it would only crash and burn after you left me again.

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, sliding back into the chair in a more reclined, slouching position.

Austin, you left yourself to fend for yourself. Everything that ever happened to us, it was all your own fault. I didn't use you for anything, Austin. You're delusional. You used me. We were one of the most talented and unpredictable tag teams around, the best friends in all of e-fedding, even great when we were forced to be separated. And after all we went through, everything you ruined, I'm the one to blame?

His head fell into his hands, and he stopped to recollect. Finally, he broke. He stood up with such a force that the chair fell over behind him.

Austin, there's one reason I want to defeat you this week. One single reason. Not for the fame, not for the money, not for the bragging rights, not for another win to add to my record. Because you deserve, for once in your life, to get some sense slapped into you.

He turned around and punched the photo, shattering the frame and sending glass flying everywhere. He heaved out a huge breath, finally relieving his anger, then sighed. He turned around and leaned against the wall, head buried in his arms. As the promo seemed to have been beginning to end, the last few lines of Tales of Another Broken Home began to play. Before fading out, the camera zoomed into Phillip, mumbling along in his arms.

I won't feel any shame, I won't apologize... when there ain't nowhere you can go... running away from pain, where we've been victimized... tales from another broken...

Phillip pushed away from the wall and ran his hand through his hair as the last lyric blasted through the room. He began to walk away as the camera faded out to the beat of the last few guitar riffs.

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