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Round Two; NEW Friday Night 42
Topic Started: Jan 29 2014, 03:37 PM (55 Views)
Trenton Page
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NEWera Rookie
[ * ]
What a difference a few hours makes.

We're quickly shown a clip taken via cell phone at one of the local watering holes in Atlantic City of which there are no shortage. There's a small group there but they're a rowdy bunch. And in the center of them all is the newly-crowned NEWEra North American Champion, Trenton Page. A couple friends, some fellow wrestlers and some fans who just became part of the group on a whim...all gathered near the bar and toasting the new champion. Trenton himself roughly raps his beer bottle against the gold and leather (thankfully not hard enough to break said bottle) and everyone takes a long swig from their beverage of choice.

"Let the critics choke on that there! Who's the punk rookie now, huh?!"

Apparently his buddies share his sentiment because many a yell goes up that damn near rattles the glass shelves behind the bar loose. They're a few decibels from being put out on their asses...and might already be if they weren't making the place a crap-ton of money tonight.

And then...we cut away.

"Holy mother of God...what...what do I do now?"

A few hours later, just as alluded to previously, we gain sight of Trenton again. Past a couple hours of sleep and time to sober up and grab a hot shower, the new champion is sitting on the end of his hotel room bed and staring at the title in his hands. His words come out in a whisper and he's on the edge of shaking. Fear of Nightmare? We all know that's not happening. There's something far more potent wracking him right now: the pressure of being a champion.

It's too soon and he knows it. He never expected this in a million years.

"Okay, take a breath...it's cool...nothing to worry about, right? Right."

And then his phone rings. Trenton flinches so sharply that we half-expect to see his skin in a puddle on the carpet where he'd leapt out of it. He pats down his bare chest looking for his phone in a moment of loopiness before he realizes that it's across the room on the dresser. Briefly, the strains of "Mama Said" by Metallica play before Trenton picks up the device.

"'Lo?"

"Did I wake you up, baby?"

There's no mistaking that voice...the underlying strength that shines through a momentarily-gentle tone. Trenton exhales a sigh of relief and responds.

"No, ma'am. Just got out the shower."

"Your father's sleepin', too, the oaf. But he knew I'd be callin' so he wanted me to tell you 'long with my own sayin' of it...congratulations. We watched earlier tonight an' we're damn proud."

A hand is placed upon the dresser to steady himself, as despite it being somewhat warranted Trenton is still considerably moved by his parents' pride.

"I appreciate that, momma. I know y'all don't think much of the wrestlin' thing, so it means somethin' t'me that y'all watch it."

"Your father likes it and I think it's silly. But after a couple times watchin' you there, I'm comin' around...least where you're concerned."

"Happy to hear that. You'll tell 'im I said thanks an' that I love him, won't you?"

"Of course."

There's a bit of quiet as Trenton looks around briefly before spotting a bottle of water on top of the mini-fridge. He takes a long swig from it, swallowing it down to get some of the taste of alcohol out of his mouth.

"Feel like I was hit by a train. Nightmare ain't no joke. He tried playin' kick-the-can with my skull."

"Tried bein' the operative word, boy."

"He'll come lookin' for this belt again and, well, I don't mind sayin' that I'm not feelin' confident here, momma. I don't mean to sound weak or nothin', but...I just..."

It takes a few moments for him to find his words. Thankfully, in his mind at least, his mother gives him silence and the time necessary to consider his thoughts.

"...I don't wanna let no one down. Not you or dad, not Hiashi or Eric...nobody. This title means somethin' in this company. It's just a notch below the World Heavyweight Title. I have to have a good showing with it. I gotta show people that while I mighta lucked into being a champion that it ain't comin' off me without a hell of a fight."

She must be feeling generous, Trenton's mother, because she doesn't call him on his semi-foul language. Lucky him.

"You're gonna do your best, boy. An' if that ain't enough, then you make your best better an' keep on fightin'. You hear? We're proud whether you're champion or not. People was lightin' up the phone all night tellin' us 'bout what you did. You best come down here before the next show to calm 'em down, hear?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be there by the end of the week. I promise."

"Glad to hear it."

The words from his mother seem to steel him a bit. Oh, he's a nervous ball of alcohol-and-adrenaline-fueled energy still...but we're seeing that look in his eyes again. Like we did before NEW TV 74 when he made it clear to Nightmare that there'd be no easy night for the veteran on Trenton's watch.

"Y'all take care till then. When I get home we'll get everyone together for dinner...my treat."

"You take care too, son. We love you."

"Love y'all, too."

The call ends and Trenton shuts off the phone before putting it back down on the dresser. He holds up the title again, staring at the golden belt and the freshly-applied nameplate with his name on it. It brings a new kind of intensity to his youthful features and while he still feels the pressure of harsh reality weighing on him, there's also a determination welling up inside.

"Yeah...come one, come all. Take on the new champion. I guaran-damn-tee y'all won't get no free night outta this here redneck."

For the last time we cut ahead. Trenton has been home already, his time with family and friends left private as per his desires. Having arrived in Manhattan early Tuesday morning, he grabbed a few hours of sleep before heading down to the Hammerstein Ballroom. NEWEra has one of their well-attended fan events going on and as a champion he has an obligation to be there. Not that he minds, of course. Trenton's there and, of all things, in a suit. It's a different look for the young man but it works. A little trimming of the facial hair, the semi-long brown locks left loose to hang just to his shoulders and the title over his shoulder...it all fits him quite well.

And he's determined to make it last.

When we first spot him, he's in an area made up to look like the backstage interview space on NEWEra's shows. It's a cool little attraction where fans can come up and ask a few questions of a wrestler, get the 'interview' recorded on DVD and a photo or two as well. Trenton's been at it for a few hours now but still has people in his line. As the most recent fan, a young lady in her late-teens who's a mite starstruck, takes her leave with pink cheeks and a shirt signed by Trenton clutched close to her chest, one of the staff comes up to him and whispers in his ear.

"Yo, you can take a break if you need to, man."

There's about three or four more people in line, mostly kids with their parents. Trenton gives them a once-over then turns back to the staffer.

"Nah. I'm good. Gonna stick around till everyone's had their chance."

"You sure? Been like, three hours now."

Trenton just grins.

"Hey...it's nothin'. Call me crazy, but I think I owe it to 'em to give 'em all the time they want. People like this are the ones who cheer guys like me and push us to the levels we meet in that ring every show. Gotta support 'em the same."

Not having an argument for that, the staffer shrugs and takes his leave. We cut to a few hours later and Trenton's sitting on one of the back tables. The event's either over for the day or at a recess...we can't tell and it really doesn't matter. His jacket is draped over one of the chairs and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up. The title gleams as it rests over his shoulder but despite the comfort and the pleasant day he's had...Trenton looks a little...irritable. And considering the goings-on in NEWEra as of late, that shouldn't come as a surprise.

That noted, he gets right down to business.

"I'd love to sit here and tell y'all just why all the crap that's gone down is bullshit. Legion runnin' roughshod over this place and doin' all the dirty deeds that they please, people gettin' jumped an' screwed right an' left and that don't even count the people leavin' this place. But other folks have done said all that needs to be said. So I'm-a stick with what matters to me and what's comin' up at NEW Friday Night in a few days.

You an' me, Jynx LeVeux, once again. This time I'm the champ even though the belt ain't up for grabs. I saw what went down with you an' Purity an' Bombtrack this past NEW TV...and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to lend a hand and kick that uppity twat's ass before she came in like a vulture an' took that belt off of you. That don't even count Bombtrack gettin' handsy with you, neither. The hell is this place comin' to?!"


He has to take a breath and center himself before he can go on. Coming out of it with a chuckle and a shake of his head, he grins at the camera.

"My momma's gonna kick my tail, hearin' me talk like that. But I can't help it. I get emotional about stuff like that. People like Purity and Bombtrack ain't fit to walk around this place actin' like they own it."

Trenton adjusts the belt slightly, taking a moment to look at it.

"I'd rather not have to fight you this Friday if you want God's own truth, Jynx. I'm gonna though, and I'm gonna get my win back in the process, but were it up to me we'd be tagging and taking down some scum instead of scrapping with each other. Since that first time we've gone 'round, when you handed me my first loss, I've gone through a lot of changes. Took off the mask, cleaned up and took my lumps like a man and...well, you see where that's got me. There's still a long way for me to go before I feel like a true champion but that's a road I'll walk willingly. And getting a win over someone like you, who really made that No Limits Championship shine no matter what anyone else says, would be a big step.

But it ain't gonna be easy. You might be busted up and feelin' some disappointment, but that ain't enough to keep a lady like you down. I know it. And that's why I'm bringin' it all. Never had pressure like this on me before. Back before NEWEra when I was wrestlin' in places a fraction of the size of the arenas we're in lately, there was always that safety net. There's a certain level that people expect out of you when you're in big-ass arenas like we go to. When you're fightin' in high school gyms and National Guard armories without cameras or pyro, it ain't the same by a sight. You can let it all hang out and enjoy your work more."


He slides off the table, standing before it.

"Don't take that the wrong way. I enjoy NEWEra a hell of a lot. It's just a much tighter ship and that's takin' some getting used to. You're still feelin' your way in, too. You're learnin' same as me that folks around here don't give a damn who they gotta step on to get what they want. For a little while I was like that, so I can't throw too many stones. Them days are done. And it's cause of people like you that I even have the chance. It's that kinda respect that's colorin' my outlook for our match. And that's one of the big reasons why I'm gonna win. Casue you're even better now than you were before and it would just mean that much more to put you down for the one-two-three in the middle of that ring."

Grabbing his jacket, Trenton makes ready to leave but delivers one more message to the camera.

"But when all's said and done, Jynx? If you wanna take some revenge on those clowns who took their liberties on ya? You an' Eric got my number."

With a nod, Trenton walks out of sight, bringing the promo to a close.
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"In a world passing through my fingers I still chase the wind."

NEWEra North American Champion x1
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