...Yeah, but it's more then the liquor and weed
Yeah it's more then the liquor in me
Shit, I gotta get it together
I was falling off, with drunk words and sober thoughts
So, I'm still speaking the truth...
- Juelz Santana - "Who I Am"
Ask Dan Ryan who he is. I bet he has the slightest clue. Living in the fast lane, standing before people he's never met, and pretending to be their friends. I bet if you asked him the last time he had a night of fun, he'd tell you years. He's supposed to stand among the mooches amongst him, and cater to their every request and demand. Sure there are plenty of opinions, plenty of stereotypes floating around the circle of federations.
I looked around, searching for the reason of my existence. I wondered, what makes me better than those around me, if anything. For so long I told myself I was the best. Gave myself a false sense of security. Ducking challenges, sneaking my way in to a higher situation then I deserved to be at. Don't get me wrong, I’m still one of the greatest things in this sport, but still only a commodity. There's different types of commodities. The one's that get a short span of the limelight, and then the one's which stick around beginning to end.
I WILL be here until the end.
That fact has been burned in the back of my brain, where I won't be allowed to forget it. But there is still only a shell of me people actually get to see. An outer casing formed calloused by the experiences of my life. Hardened by tragedy, failures, and experience. Still, I ponder back in to my past, and try to conjure up justifiable reasons for certain choices. Looking on the days of partnerships with Jack, Mary Jane, and a bag of Cocaine. I remember the pressures, and the bliss of escape.
But still, I ask myself Who am I? I finally came to a conclusion. Hardly one which could be summed up in one word. I was a soon to be dad, a soon to be husband. I even remember the days when I was a self proclaimed God and King.
But I stand here now, looking in the past, broken as ever. Shattered relationships, false confidences, broken promises. But there is still something I am, which remains true. I'm a hall of famer. And after Sunday, that still won't have changed.
He sat in the back pew, surrounded by shadows. His head lowered, and hood up, his facial features were nonexistent. Almost as if his face was blank. He remained seated among the others, yet he stood out like a sore thumb. The aura radiated wasn't something positive, nor God loving. He sat there with his head bowed to the Son of God, saying his name in vain among his breath.
"You don't deserve the worship of these people. They ought to know the truth. The truth Lucifer taught me."
He then grabbed a bible from the end of the pew, the leather cover sizzling under his touch. Letting off a quiet laugh, he returned his eyes to the pastor.
The man's eyes were dark as coals, yet still seemed to illuminate the room. Eyes, that if you looked deep enough, you'd see the lack of a soul this man had.
Sweat poured from his forehead, the salt stinging his eyes. The heat generating from each body in the crowded cathedral, seemed to scorch his skin. All the god loving, and god fearing people among him. They had no idea what or who they were praying to. They were looking for an easy way out.
Slowly, the scenery before him changed, in to something no one else was seeing. The truth was being set free.
A tear rolled from the eye of the man, falling slowly to the carpeted floor, landing in an explosion of silence. Moistening the ground with unheard thud. Looking down, the man saw his own reflection in his tear. He saw his eyes, black as coals, his complexion dark, and shaded. Within his reflection, he saw something which impressed him, yet still intimidated him. He saw the face of pure evil, and continued to stare in its eyes.
"Beautiful." Freddie muttered as he stood up, removing himself from the falseness of his former religion. "Fucking beautiful." He whispered through a gleaming smile.
I stood beside Duce, witnessing the oncoming attack. Standing in The sand below our feet stirred with the passing wind, forming a cloud around us, seeming as if, almost naturally, we had a force higher than any protecting us. I could read the thoughts of the commanders behind the line.
"Take them both out. I want nothing left of them."
But of course, he still sat behind his line of armed guards, shouting commands, and waiting for the exact moment of attack. I understood completely what was going on here. A fiery rage burned inside of me, and I could feel the same in Duce. I looked beside me, and saw Duce standing with clenched fists. We both were wearing the same attire, black pants, a black shirt. A long lost look forgotten by many. We were playing the part of deadly assassins, facing the on rush of hundreds of samurai.
We understood who was before us, as the oncoming warriors screamed and yelled ferocious battle cries, looking to intimidate us two men. But it was of no use, because I personally enjoyed the odds. What better than defying every dream that this commander had in mind. Dan Ryan was a coward, and was afraid of us.
Were these men of his newly gained kingdom? A place that was thought to have died? Couldn't be, that place was dead. Deader than my heart. More dead than Zach's Impact title reign. Yes, they were of him. His henchmen approached us, and I could see the faces of these determined warriors. Either way, we were fighting for our name...our glory...and were GOING to withstand this attack. There would be no take over.
I looked at Duce again, looking to see if there was any fear on his face. There was none, and I reassured him we would take them all down one by one. There was something much greater at stake than our names.
I slowly turned back, and watched the dust fly from under the feet of the hundreds of soldiers closing in on us. Closing my eyes, I dreamt of Aurora, laying in our bedroom, our child still growing inside her womb. A slow smile crept along my face as I lowered the mask. Duce did the same, allowing our enemies to only see the fierceness and determination in our eyes. Putting my hand to the back of my neck, I felt the handle of my assassin sword. The electricity within the handle excited me. Few had survived a battle with me, and that was only because I let them live. But I felt no remorse for the man sitting among their cavalry, letting other men do their dirty work.
It would be seconds before they closed in on us. We'd be smothered by them, enclosed, and at the end of the road.
Well that would be the scenario for most men.
I felt a rumbling in my stomach, before a loud roar erupted from my lungs. Almost unmanly, it was the sound of a large predator, sending a warning signal to it's attacker. I gave Duce one last look and nodded in satisfaction.
"You and I, my brother, will forever be remembered for what we are about to do."
With that, the hundreds of foot soldiers were among us, and I withdrew my katana.
"DAN RYAN! I'M COMING!!", I screamed as Duce and I charged in to the thick group of men.
The battle had begun, and it wouldn't finish until I saw Ryan fallen before me.
Times like these...odds like these...you just stand up and fight.
You may think I'm an easy mark Dan...your warm up. Keep thinking that, and I'll break you quicker than a Mike Tyson first round knockout. Champ or not, I've taken ass whippings from far better than you, so threatening to rip my arm ligaments means nothing to me. I've rode the flatline and lived to tell my story, so do your worst. You can't break me.
I see the fear in your eyes though Dan, but you keep living out your little champion life though. Cause at the end of the night, you will know why I am everything you don't think I am...and more.