Post by Donnie Harris on Jun 13, 2024 21:41:41 GMT -5
-Donnie broke a promise. Instead of remaining around gorilla position to watch a good friend essentially win her way to facing Alexandra Calaway for the Fight 4 title, the man who was her former love interest slunk away, back to the locker room, back to the showers, with an ice pack on the back of his neck.
As soon as he got in there, he threw the ice pack with every fiber of muscle on fire. Every sinew was tense, drawn taut like a strained slingshot, as he paced, inconsolably, as, once again, as he has done every time with every big name in every big match, he let his head get in the way. He let his bravado and his confidence get in the way. He let someone who had no bearing nor purpose in the match take his mind away from his goal.
Donnie roared in agony and anguish, because he let BRADDOCK get in his head.
He looked, through burning and tear-filled eyes, at the alcoves where people could hang their things up, with shoes in the bottom shelf and any other incidentals, like toiletries or ablutions, at eye level.-
)Donnie Harris(
Every...
-He growled this out, a fist clenched tightly under the hand wrap.-
)Donnie Harris(
...single...
-Donnie gets his body positioned, that right fist cocked.-
)Donnie Harris(
...goddamn...
-Donnie swings an uppercut through the empty shelf, through both pieces of wood like it was particle board.-
)Donnie Harris(
...mother...
-Shifting to another alcove, another set of eye-level shelving is now turned into splinters.-
)Donnie Harris(
...FUCKING TIME!
-Donnie takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, but he puts his fists through two more, before Donnie falls to his knees, hyperventilating as his hands come over his head. The unprotected knuckles on both hands are skinned, bleeding slightly, as the man is reduced to tears, coated in sweat from the stress of the situation and the exertion and effort laid out in the ring.
All there was, in his heart, was regret. He betrayed himself, he betrayed Je$TyR in giving him a decent match, and he cheated the fans by letting BRADDOCK’s posse wreck what could have been a great take-home show. Donnie was hoping to get a break after this show, but now?
There’s unfinished business. Donnie was not satisfied, and the dissatisfaction was something he did not want to carry into Revival, regardless of who held the World Title by the end of the show.
He also didn’t doubt that, whoever was close enough to hear it, the small level of demolition that Donnie did barehanded was clear to be heard by anyone passing by. However, as he knelt on the floor, weeping bitterly, sobbing out of pure anger and despair over not truly doing his best, Donnie Harris was a melting candle, a shell of the once-proud man that stood in the ring.
Sure, he’d get over it; he has to. It definitely never meant that it wouldn’t hurt.-
As soon as he got in there, he threw the ice pack with every fiber of muscle on fire. Every sinew was tense, drawn taut like a strained slingshot, as he paced, inconsolably, as, once again, as he has done every time with every big name in every big match, he let his head get in the way. He let his bravado and his confidence get in the way. He let someone who had no bearing nor purpose in the match take his mind away from his goal.
Donnie roared in agony and anguish, because he let BRADDOCK get in his head.
He looked, through burning and tear-filled eyes, at the alcoves where people could hang their things up, with shoes in the bottom shelf and any other incidentals, like toiletries or ablutions, at eye level.-
)Donnie Harris(
Every...
-He growled this out, a fist clenched tightly under the hand wrap.-
)Donnie Harris(
...single...
-Donnie gets his body positioned, that right fist cocked.-
)Donnie Harris(
...goddamn...
-Donnie swings an uppercut through the empty shelf, through both pieces of wood like it was particle board.-
)Donnie Harris(
...mother...
-Shifting to another alcove, another set of eye-level shelving is now turned into splinters.-
)Donnie Harris(
...FUCKING TIME!
-Donnie takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, but he puts his fists through two more, before Donnie falls to his knees, hyperventilating as his hands come over his head. The unprotected knuckles on both hands are skinned, bleeding slightly, as the man is reduced to tears, coated in sweat from the stress of the situation and the exertion and effort laid out in the ring.
All there was, in his heart, was regret. He betrayed himself, he betrayed Je$TyR in giving him a decent match, and he cheated the fans by letting BRADDOCK’s posse wreck what could have been a great take-home show. Donnie was hoping to get a break after this show, but now?
There’s unfinished business. Donnie was not satisfied, and the dissatisfaction was something he did not want to carry into Revival, regardless of who held the World Title by the end of the show.
He also didn’t doubt that, whoever was close enough to hear it, the small level of demolition that Donnie did barehanded was clear to be heard by anyone passing by. However, as he knelt on the floor, weeping bitterly, sobbing out of pure anger and despair over not truly doing his best, Donnie Harris was a melting candle, a shell of the once-proud man that stood in the ring.
Sure, he’d get over it; he has to. It definitely never meant that it wouldn’t hurt.-