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Morning Glory RCC: Confessions

I never meant for this to happen. For me to turn my back on my fans, the thousands, millions of people who loved me, respected me. I never meant to let them down, to walk out on them like some kind of yellowbelly. All I wanted was to be number one again. To have what used to be mine. That top spot. That special place where nobody could touch me. I was there for so long. The king of the world. The untouchable one. The guy who would be at the top forever. But that spot? It had been taken away from me. Why? I don’t even know. I was still the best around. It was like all of a sudden, they just wanted second best.

1998. I remember it like it was just yesterday. Millions of people cheering my name, living for my every word. Fans with t-shirts, with my words, my lines on them. My face on every TV, in every home in America, in the world. I was a huge star. Now my star has just fallen. Crashed and burned like some bad car wreck. What went wrong? I never changed. I changed only when they told me to change. I just followed orders. They wanted me to change, and I did, but it wasn’t working. So they told me to just do what I used to do. Kick ass, drink beer, flip the bird, and it would be 1998 again. But that could never be. It could never be the same. It wasn’t 1998. It was 2002.

I never said I wouldn’t lose to that guy, I wouldn’t make him look good. I just thought that he wasn’t ready for what was being given to him, what was being thrust to him, where it wasn’t to me. When I was 25 I wasn’t the Next Big Thing. I was paying my dues down South. I was being beaten by has beens, never beens. I wasn’t even Cold yet, merely Stunning. Why should I hand my dues, my top spot, my special place to a guy that hasn’t done a thing for this business? Look at all I achieved, all I accomplished. I brought in all the fans. I brought them back from down South, I became bigger than the business itself. Money. Fame. Glory. And you expect me to throw it away to help out some green rookie, a big guy with no experience? He couldn’t hold the crowd in the palm of his hand like I can. He can’t bring in the fans, the money, the spotlight like me. And yet, he’s going to take my spot. I don’t resent him. Just the world, and the people that make things like this happen. I fought for that spot.

I didn’t mean to touch her, to lay a finger on her. I love that woman with all my heart. It sickens me to think about what I did. It only happened one time. One mistake, one flash of my temper. I don’t even know why I did it. She didn’t do anything wrong. She was just there in the wrong place at the wrong time, like some of the guys who I used to beat up on TV, in the good days. I’ve said sorry a million times. I hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me. One time. Does that make me a wife-beater, an evil, heartless villain? I’m no paedophile, no rapist. I made a mistake. I know a lot of people won’t forgive me. They can’t. They’ve been what she was put through, and they know what it’s like. I’m sure there’s plenty of guys who know how I’m feeling. But I’m sure they think the same way about me too. A wife-beater, someone who’s lost the plot. I wish I knew how to sort this mess out.

Some tell me to go back, to try to recapture past glory. Why? It will never be as good as it was then…..shooting stars only come around once. Then they burn out, they fade away. I’m a shooting star. My time has been and gone. And yet….I don’t see any shooting star to take my place, to be what I was just yet. Maybe in a year, 2 years, who knows? I just know that they’ll never shine as brightly as I did. But if I return? Will my star shine again? I don’t even know any more. It wasn’t shining at the end. It was merely glowing, running on the past. What would make a return any different? How would the fans react, to a man who walked out on them? A man who stabbed them in the back when they needed him most? A man who beat his wife, a defenceless, frightened woman? They would hate me, like they hated anyone who stood against me before. I wouldn’t blame them. I hate myself right now. For what I’ve done, for what I didn’t do.

Maybe I have two pieces of mind. I don’t know. I can’t separate from realism and fiction any more. Maybe that’s the problem. I don’t know where my character ends, and I begin. Maybe that was why I struck her. Thought I was back in the ring, back in my ring, where I could do anything and get cheered. I was like Robin Hood. Breaking the rules, breaking the law only made me more loved by the common man. Then I broke one law too many, and my name is met with hatred, met with scorn. I’m a fighting man. I always have been. I laid down for nobody, and wouldn’t take any bullshit. I’m a Texan, what do you expect? But I’ve changed. I’ve grown old, different. This time, I think there’s no fight left in this old dog.

When I used to be who I used to be, they called me ‘Stone Cold’. I don’t feel Stone Cold any more. Just vacant.

This is a purely ficticious look into the mind of Stone Cold Steve Austin. Think what you will.