" Denial is a cruelty...
And I have been so cruel to myself..
I knew from the moment we joined forces that this would be our destination, Bronson. I knew that no matter how strong our bond was, no matter how much we sacrificed, no matter how much love and trust there was between us, this was the only ending for us. But above all else, I knew it would be no fault of my own. We were doomed from the start. Yet, it wasn’t because of me or some metaphorical Devil on my shoulder; it was DOA because of your inability to see past yourself. Within two months of us teaming, I treated you like you were my family. I saw you as my own flesh and blood. I showed you and the world simultaneously that I would die for you; and with every moment that followed, I proved that I would kill for you. I bit my tongue and maintained my composure as people would throw around the idea that teaming with me was beneath you. I never let jealousy or greed invade my mind or heart, as I watched you live my wildest dreams. As a brother, I supported you. As a brother, I guided you. As a brother, I leaned on you. I depended on you. I believed in you. I trusted you. I loved you. And never in a million years would I have thought to betray you. I never felt the need. That was never an itch that needed scratching. I never saw you or your success as a threat— hell, I sacrificed everything for you so that you would continue to know as much. But I know that truth doesn’t coincide with the narrative you aim to force. But as you pick and choose through moments of the past, in some elaborate attempt to unmask me, remember exactly who it is you’re talking to and what I’ve been through. If there is anyone who has felt the sting of betrayal at the hands of those whom they loved and trusted the most, it’s me. And believe me when I tell you, Bronson, that wasn’t a pain I wished upon you.
I’ve said it time and time again. I’ve screamed it at the top of my lungs. I’ve gone out of my way to give you that understanding. I’ve attempted to give you some facet of closure. But you can’t see past yourself. Nothing exists outside of you in this ordeal, and every word you utter breathes life into that notion being true. Nothing I say penetrates that thick head of yours. So I’ll make things clear for you in the hopes that I don’t have to hear the same fabricated narrative over and over again.
Bronson, I didn’t betray you; I chose myself.
We went into that match knowing that only one of us could win should fortune smile in our favor. We went into that match knowing that only one of us could leave Territorial Invasion as World Champion. It was either you or me in that moment— and as I aforementioned before, I chose myself. I didn’t stop you from continuing with the match. I didn’t prevent you from kicking out when Adam Lucas pulled you in. I told you that it was my turn, and your reaction told me everything I needed to know. As my words escaped my lips, the look of disgust and otherwise discontent on your face told me exactly what you felt about me all along. You couldn’t fathom a situation or circumstance that permitted me to be the one who left Territorial Invasion. There would never be enough space in the world for both of us to occupy the top of the mountain, and I didn’t care to be a contender for your would-be reign; I wanted to be World Champion. I wanted to realize that dream. But instead of understanding that— instead of seeing reason, and staying true to the plans we made: you only cared and thought of yourself. You looked out for yourself. The very same thing you consider me a betrayer for doing. But that’s just another peak behind the curtain. That’s more proof of who you are at your core, Bronson. A liar. A hypocrite. A manipulator. But most of all, you’re pathetic. You can’t claim to be blindsided when you threw the first blow. Much like you can’t claim to be blindsided when you delivered your elbow right into my face. And then you went on to do a sit-down interview, telling the world that I’m the problem. And what? You just assumed that I’d fall off the face of the earth? You assumed that I’d just fall back to this imaginative place of obscurity you seemingly pulled me from last season. That’s a joke. I left you in a pool of your own blood because you deserved it, Bronson. And every moment since Territorial Invasion has proven that I was right to do so. In your moment of grief, you found it in your best interest to slander me and once again make me out to be your scapegoat. You didn’t grieve me; you left me in the grave. And in the process, you buried the last shred of respect and admiration that I had for you. You buried a bond that I, at one point in time, considered unbreakable. You put the final nail in the coffin.
And all for what? Because I wanted to win the match? Because I was in full understanding of the match stipulation, and I chose myself for once? I did the very same thing you’d been telling me to do for years, and you vilify me for it. But I’ve reached a point where I no longer give a damn. I’ve given up on the idea that my words may reach you. I embrace the role you’ve assigned me in your story. I embrace the hate you exude when you see me, because at this point, I feel the same way. I shouldn’t have to apologize to you for wanting to succeed. I shouldn’t have to hold your hand so that you’re able to formulate a complete thought and come to the realization that I made a move that benefited me. Not you, not anyone else– BUT ME.
So I don’t care if people feel betrayed. I don’t even care that you feel betrayed. Because do you know what I feel for the first time in a very long time, Bronson? I feel relief. I said it last week, heading into our match against Drake Armstrong and Hans Grayson, and I’ll say it again. I feel like I can breathe. I feel like I no longer have the weight of the fucking world on my shoulders, chasing after your dreams and then my own. I no longer have to take a backseat in my own career. Now, I can focus on myself and continue building myself as one of the greatest elitists this company has seen; a task that would have been completed with or without your intervention.
And this here is what it truly boils down to. You place yourself on such an undeserving pedestal, so much so, that you can’t even fathom what it’s like to wake up every single day and not be full of your own shit. You say that I stagnated, yet every step of the way last season, your only shred of success came with great help from others. Wargames. The Extreme Elimination Chamber. And you know what, had I let Harper Lee bash your head in, instead of biting the bullet for you— maybe things wouldn’t have reached this point. Maybe your opinion of me wouldn’t be so skewed and out of focus. I’d have found atonement and accomplished my biggest dream, and maybe then I would have been more inclined to follow your mission plan. I would have been more willing to venture out and do sidequests. But you didn’t give me a choice in the matter. As one-half of Elysium, I faced more ridicule and backlash than I ever did on my own. I wasn’t allowed to grieve for what was stolen from me. My focus had to be centered around what you wanted. You wanted accolades and a padded resume, filled with meaningless accomplishments; I simply wanted validation for the hard work I put in. I never wanted to be King, Bronson. I never wanted to be a prodigy. I never wanted things to revolve around me. I simply wanted a seat at the table. And I knew you’d never offer me a chair. I implored you to wake up. I asked you to at least attempt to pull your head from your own ass. But the more you speak, the more I come to the realization that that was always going to be a daunting task. Even when presented with facts, irrefutable facts— the most you can offer as a retort is nonsensical word vomit. You’re lost, Bronson, and you’re angry at the wrong person. You’ve turned your hatred and anger towards me when the person you really need to be upset with is the very same person you see when you stare in the mirror. You killed Elysium. You drove a wedge between us. And for months, the only person you’ve thought about is yourself. But you can’t point the finger at yourself, or better yet, you won’t. Even though I told you that we shouldn’t have accepted Captain Charisma's opportunity in the first place. Even when I pleaded with you that it didn’t seem right to let Drake and Hans move on, when we still had unfinished business, that could have culminated in us running roughshod over Voltage for the entirety of the season. But you didn’t care about that. Your mind was fixated on being handed another opportunity that wasn’t yours to be had.
And I’m glad I mentioned that. Because you really want to place blame on me for fucking you over out of numerous opportunities and career-defining opportunities? You allowed yourself to be thrown out of the temple of trials, essentially leaving me to fight against four Hall of Famers, after I had just taken a 20-foot plunge, attempting to reach the bottom cage. You pushed the idea that challenging the British Invasion at Grand Rampage was a great idea, knowing everything Pandora had gone through as a result of the bullshit you dragged her into. Knowing that just a few weeks prior, I was quite literally ONE SECOND away from becoming Answers World Champion. I was one second away from my dream— and you gave me no space to grieve my dying dream. Your focus was centered around becoming a Grand Slam Champion, as if adding the Unified Tag Team Championships would satiate my hunger for more. But sure, blame me for that, as if I wasn’t vocal and adamant on the fact that I didn’t care for the match for weeks heading into it. And if you have it in your mind to blame me for what happened at Fighting Spirit, know that I didn’t put a gun to your head and tell you to jump— you made that decision. YOU MADE EVERY DECISION. And that’s always been the fucking problem, Bronson. Your vision amounted to nothing. Elysium amounted to nothing. My sacrifice amounted to nothing. All the blood I shed, and fucking tears I cried, last season WANTING MORE, HOPING FOR MORE, AMOUNTED TO NOTHING. But I’ll tell you what, Bronson, I’ll be damned if I sit back and allow another year to pass by where I accomplish absolutely nothing, because I‘m stuck dealing with the ramifications of being attached to you. I’ll be damned if I let another opportunity slip through my fingers, because I’m focused on what’s best for you.
And it's funny.
You make me out to be this self-centered fuck-up. Or this, insane backstabbing, monster, but all I’ve ever done is look out for you. Even when it didn’t benefit me. Even when it left me worse off. I prioritized what you wanted over what I myself needed--- I put a fifteen-plus-year dream on hold because of you. And it’s as I said before, I’ll never make that mistake again. What I believed was once a brotherly bond turned out to be nothing more than a beautiful lie. Elysium only worked if you were calling the shots. It only worked if you were in the spotlight. It only worked if it was you who could reap the benefits. So no, Bronson, you didn’t give me an opportunity; you gave yourself one.
But at Wicked Games, I’m going to do the same.
I’m going to remove the bitter taste that Road To Redemption 18 left in my mouth, and in the process to prove to both you and the rest of the world that I’m beyond capable of succeeding with or without you. I’m beyond capable of winning a World Championship with or without you. I am beyond capable of thriving in this environment or any for that matter— with or without you.
Elysium is dead, and so too is our bond. And it wasn’t an outcome that I built to. It wasn’t my selfishness or arrogance that birthed this ending; it was your own. It was your greed and desire to be king that brought this about. And I find such inane irony in that. You fashioned yourself a Kingmaker, but you did everything in your power to prevent me from reaching my destiny. Instead of acknowledging your own greed and selfishness. You place the blame on me and label me as an emotional creature of habit. Erratic and impulsive in nature— but I’ve never shied away from my impulsive behavior. But I assure you, what occurred at Territorial Invasion was not done out of impulse. Nor will what occurs at Wicked Games.
I’m beyond ready to move on from this chapter of my life. I’m beyond ready to put you and Elysium in the past and focus my time and energy on my own goals and aspirations. So with that being said, I hope it’s understood that you’re more than welcome to do the same. But you shouldn’t get your hopes up at all. I’ve know what it’s like to be at rock bottom. I’ve been there before. I spent years pulling myself from the abyss, and believe me when I say I will never be there again.
So save the swan song for yourself, Bronson, because when the curtains close this time around, know that they’re only closing on you. "
Last edited:
