Post by MYŌJIN on Mar 24, 2021 22:39:25 GMT -5
11. Patience Is Overrated
VS Cadillac Jackson | PG XIII
Years Ago…
Patience is overrated.
People have always said that patience is a virtue. That it was better to make peace with where you were. It was little more than an excuse people told themselves to cope with that they weren't making progress within their lives, making themselves believe that the path ahead was supposed to be slow and that made it okay to be complacent. It isn't a virtue; it's laziness disguised as a good trait for someone to have. Then again, it's what people did best- make excuses for why they settled for anything less than they aimed for. Some say they aren't talented enough, wallowing in self-pity instead of attempting to improve. Some say they aren't smart enough, giving up the moment their mind is challenged more than they're comfortable with. There was always something, wasn't there?
Shouta hated excuses with all his heart. Though there was one thing he hated more; the people who hid behind them. The people who when given a chance, still choose to be victimized. The people who turn away when others reach out for help.
He hated bad people. They acted so superior and above everyone else when their empathy and their imagination is nonexistent, empty people taking out their issues on others because cruelty is the only thing that they’re good at it- But he couldn’t really deal with good people either, after all, they forgave others that acted like that. They allowed themselves to get walked over as they believed their passiveness and forgiveness was noble- When in reality, it was just inaction.
He tried his best to be a patient, good kid. Always following the moral ‘high ground’ that was set out. Turning the other cheek, being the bigger person, and walking away. He had tried to be as patient as he possibly could. After all, showing restraint was supposed to be the right thing- Though the only thing he had learned from it was that bullies, jocks, assholes of every form in high school saw his restraint as weakness.
“Are you that much of a little bitch?”
“C'mon, you're supposed to know karate, right? Do something.”
“He isn't gonna do shit, he's just a little fa-”
Suffice to say, Shouta had finally done something. His patience had run thin- and once he had finally realized that he could take action for himself, once he realized that he didn’t have to be a target- He decided that he would never fall back into being someone’s target again. The teenager lacked tolerance any longer. After all, why should he have kept turning the other cheek? He began getting into fights often, and soon enough- less and less was he seen as weak and defenseless.
That's why he now sat in the principal's office. Shouta held a bag of ice against the side of his face. His lip had been busted, a bruised marking against his cheek. Instead of the gold, flowing locks and piercing eye contacts he would be known for later in his life- He had short, dark, hair and his natural brown eyes showed. His face rested in a permanent glare at the floor.
The door opened as he finally looked up. It was his sister, Akira, a troubled look on her face as she turned to face him. She didn’t seem surprised or angry, by now she was used to his violent pattern. She was just disappointed as she spoke, “Another fight, Shouta..?”
The trip home was silent. Usually, she would scold him, or show in some way that she was upset- but she didn’t speak for the longest time as she drove. He stared out of the window with his arms crossed, that hardened look still on his face- Though he slowly turned to her, opening his mouth to speak, but hesitated. It was probably best if he didn’t talk.
“If you have something to say, go ahead and say it.” Akira's voice was rather neutral. He turned toward her and sat up in his chair, frowning as she kept her eyes on the road ahead of them.
“...Are you not mad at me?”
“Oh, I don't care that much- Mom is furious though. You know, they’re thinking about expelling you if this happens again. Do you want that to happen?” She asked, turning toward him with the raising of her eyebrows to emphasize her point.
“I don’t care. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with any of them anymore.” He responded, nearly under his breath. Though purposefully loud enough for her to hear. She furrowed her eyebrows with the shake of her head.
“Now if dad had heard that…”
“So? He’s never around-”
“Shouta.” She spoke, her tone harsh but her eyes widened from what he had just said. Instantly, he felt a bit of regret once the words had left his lips- but it didn’t change how he felt. His mother simply sighed as she turned back to face the steering wheel. “Why do you keep doing this? This isn’t you. You’re better than that.”
“Akira, I don't get it. What's the point of trying to be nice if all I get are these fucking dickheads that test my patience every single time they see me. What, have you never felt like punching someone in the face in school before?”
“I have, plenty of times. Did I ever actually do it? Yeah. Probably more times than you, but you don't have to risk yourself just to get some temporary satisfaction out of it.”
“Can you tell me a better way then? A way that doesn't involve me just ignoring them while they harass me? One where I don't have to sit and smile happily while taking other people's shit? What are your suggestions? When is it enough? When am I allowed to have finally had enough?!”He shouted, turning toward her with an anger that he had never shown before. Akira was taken aback, but there was something else that he noted from the look on her face.
She had no answer.
“...Exactly.”
The rest of the ride home was pure silence. Shouta went back to staring out of the window. Akira occasionally gave a glance toward him, but never said anything.
Just as he had thought, patience is overrated.
Nowadays, fame is disconnected from excellence.
Someone could go viral and make a living from literally anything. Take Bhad Bhabie for example. So many are put on a pedestal just because they become the world's latest little interest for a few weeks before being tossed aside and made irrelevant once again. I might be a hypocrite, but everyone's so obsessed with glitz and glam and focusing on obnoxious rich people's lives. The tools that get reality shows contribute nothing of worth, the viral video sensations just become flavors of the week.
Some talentless deathmatch wrestlers that only know how to smash a light tube over someone's head get more attention than an actually talented fighter, but in the end, who will have the longer career? That's what makes the difference between a famous person and a talented person; the talented people are remembered long after they're gone.
That's the difference between me and the beta I'm facing soon. I'm here because of my talent, he's here because he got a little bit of clout.
I have to wonder, what makes him special? Is it that his moveset is like any generic powerhouse we've ever seen in this sport? Is it his generic look that almost had me confused with just about every single wannabe one percenter that thinks money substitutes for an actual personality? Maybe it's that he talks just about like every other annoying newcomer that thinks they should be given the world as soon as they step into the squared circle? I'm just.. trying to wrap my head around what made Rock Johnson decide that he would make a great addition to Project: Honor. There has to be something right…?
Oh, I can guess! Enhancement talent, right?
Sure, you beat Emmanuelle once, you got her while she was having some problems gaining momentum- That must have made you feel pretty good about yourself but as soon as you were in the same ring as me, you suffered a reality shock.
This time it isn't going to be any different.
But what do I know? I haven't hit my stride. I'm not at one hundred percent. That's what you had said, right, Cadillac?
I've always been a fan of making people that doubt me so heavily eat their words. Despite how many times I prove myself, despite how many times I show just how damn good I am in that ring- There's always someone like you who takes one look at me and is already making assumptions. Already thinking that they have me beat. Last Proving Ground, you barely gave me or Emmanuelle a second thought. You were so sure of yourself- and there was just… something so satisfying about hearing that one, two, three, and leaving you out cold as I dusted my hands of you.
Well, at least I thought I had. Turns out, I'm not through with you yet.
If I wasn't at my best last week and I still pinned you… What does that make you? Honey, why are you even here?
I have to know, do you come out to the ring in front of an audience to be the best? Or to earn some money and walk away eventually? Something tells me that's the latter, and it annoys me. It irritates me that a fake clown who can't even be bothered to pay that much attention to his opponents in his promos gets to wrestle here. It irritates me that more and more cookie-cutter bitches like you take up space in this company who think giving themselves verbal auto-fellatio while wearing overrated designer suits that were found on sale…
It irritates me that my PATIENCE has gotten me NOWHERE besides here- In the midcard with absolutely fucking nothing to show for it. I'm so sick of this constant stagnation. I don't honestly even want to see your face again, I already beat you, but you know what?
Complaining isn't going to get me anywhere. I'm not here to whine, I'm here to do what I do best- and that's making you tap.. while looking prettier than you and your fugly mohawk.
I have a lot of pent up frustration. After losing my XHF title, I have been waiting for a moment to blow off some steam- So suffice to say, sweetheart, this is going to be fun for me… I can't say it'll be that fun for you.
And hey, maybe after that- You can focus more on your little show while sidelined. Honestly? I'd be doing everyone that tunes in a favor once you're off their screens.
Jackson, the difference between you and I is as clear as night and day, hun. I'm hungry, I'm here to scratch and claw and EARN the chances that I know I deserve. I set the bar high for myself because I know I can always top my best performance. I know what I'm worth and I know that I can always do better, BE better.
You? You're here because it's just something you think is easy to do. You think you'll be able to walk in, win a championship, and kiss your own ass to the top. Sorry, babe, but it doesn't work that way.
I'm the Shining Star, you're just an annoying little rock that's orbited around me for longer than I like.
Years Ago..
“Hey, didn't we tell you that this is our spot?”
“Y-Yeah, but, you weren't sitting here-”
Shouta heard the altercation and looked over, slowly standing. A taller boy, wearing a varsity jacket, stood over a smaller Freshman in the cafeteria along with his group of friends. The Freshman looked down, clearly intimidated as his bully stood over him with a glare. “Does it look like I care?”
One of his friends took the tray of food that the Freshman had sitting over him and tossed it into a nearby trash can. The group laughed as the Freshman grew even more visibly scared as the bully jabbed a finger into his chest. “Move or I'll make you move.”
The Freshman began to move but was stopped by Shouta as he walked over. “Don't. You don't have to go anywhere if you don't want to.
The bully's expression shifted from one of confidence to slight nervousness. “Stay out of our business.”
“Or what? Do you want to fight again? I'll gladly kick your ass again if I have to. Maybe this time I'll break your fucking face.” Shouta spoke, clenching his fists as he stared the bully down intensely. The cafeteria went silent as everyone began paying attention to the growing hostility.
As some moments passed, the bully stepped back, somewhat flustered. Shouta had realized something a while back about people like him- they tend to back down once they realize someone wasn't scared of them.
“...Tch, whatever. Come on guys, let's go.” And the group left. Shouta took a deep breath, relaxing as he turned toward the Freshman again.
“Don't worry about them, they won't bother you any longer.” He spoke with a smile.
“...Thanks.”
“No problem.”
A smile grew on the future wrestler's face. It felt good to be aggressive.
Patience is overrated.
People have always said that patience is a virtue. That it was better to make peace with where you were. It was little more than an excuse people told themselves to cope with that they weren't making progress within their lives, making themselves believe that the path ahead was supposed to be slow and that made it okay to be complacent. It isn't a virtue; it's laziness disguised as a good trait for someone to have. Then again, it's what people did best- make excuses for why they settled for anything less than they aimed for. Some say they aren't talented enough, wallowing in self-pity instead of attempting to improve. Some say they aren't smart enough, giving up the moment their mind is challenged more than they're comfortable with. There was always something, wasn't there?
Shouta hated excuses with all his heart. Though there was one thing he hated more; the people who hid behind them. The people who when given a chance, still choose to be victimized. The people who turn away when others reach out for help.
He hated bad people. They acted so superior and above everyone else when their empathy and their imagination is nonexistent, empty people taking out their issues on others because cruelty is the only thing that they’re good at it- But he couldn’t really deal with good people either, after all, they forgave others that acted like that. They allowed themselves to get walked over as they believed their passiveness and forgiveness was noble- When in reality, it was just inaction.
He tried his best to be a patient, good kid. Always following the moral ‘high ground’ that was set out. Turning the other cheek, being the bigger person, and walking away. He had tried to be as patient as he possibly could. After all, showing restraint was supposed to be the right thing- Though the only thing he had learned from it was that bullies, jocks, assholes of every form in high school saw his restraint as weakness.
“Are you that much of a little bitch?”
“C'mon, you're supposed to know karate, right? Do something.”
“He isn't gonna do shit, he's just a little fa-”
Suffice to say, Shouta had finally done something. His patience had run thin- and once he had finally realized that he could take action for himself, once he realized that he didn’t have to be a target- He decided that he would never fall back into being someone’s target again. The teenager lacked tolerance any longer. After all, why should he have kept turning the other cheek? He began getting into fights often, and soon enough- less and less was he seen as weak and defenseless.
That's why he now sat in the principal's office. Shouta held a bag of ice against the side of his face. His lip had been busted, a bruised marking against his cheek. Instead of the gold, flowing locks and piercing eye contacts he would be known for later in his life- He had short, dark, hair and his natural brown eyes showed. His face rested in a permanent glare at the floor.
The door opened as he finally looked up. It was his sister, Akira, a troubled look on her face as she turned to face him. She didn’t seem surprised or angry, by now she was used to his violent pattern. She was just disappointed as she spoke, “Another fight, Shouta..?”
The trip home was silent. Usually, she would scold him, or show in some way that she was upset- but she didn’t speak for the longest time as she drove. He stared out of the window with his arms crossed, that hardened look still on his face- Though he slowly turned to her, opening his mouth to speak, but hesitated. It was probably best if he didn’t talk.
“If you have something to say, go ahead and say it.” Akira's voice was rather neutral. He turned toward her and sat up in his chair, frowning as she kept her eyes on the road ahead of them.
“...Are you not mad at me?”
“Oh, I don't care that much- Mom is furious though. You know, they’re thinking about expelling you if this happens again. Do you want that to happen?” She asked, turning toward him with the raising of her eyebrows to emphasize her point.
“I don’t care. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with any of them anymore.” He responded, nearly under his breath. Though purposefully loud enough for her to hear. She furrowed her eyebrows with the shake of her head.
“Now if dad had heard that…”
“So? He’s never around-”
“Shouta.” She spoke, her tone harsh but her eyes widened from what he had just said. Instantly, he felt a bit of regret once the words had left his lips- but it didn’t change how he felt. His mother simply sighed as she turned back to face the steering wheel. “Why do you keep doing this? This isn’t you. You’re better than that.”
“Akira, I don't get it. What's the point of trying to be nice if all I get are these fucking dickheads that test my patience every single time they see me. What, have you never felt like punching someone in the face in school before?”
“I have, plenty of times. Did I ever actually do it? Yeah. Probably more times than you, but you don't have to risk yourself just to get some temporary satisfaction out of it.”
“Can you tell me a better way then? A way that doesn't involve me just ignoring them while they harass me? One where I don't have to sit and smile happily while taking other people's shit? What are your suggestions? When is it enough? When am I allowed to have finally had enough?!”He shouted, turning toward her with an anger that he had never shown before. Akira was taken aback, but there was something else that he noted from the look on her face.
She had no answer.
“...Exactly.”
The rest of the ride home was pure silence. Shouta went back to staring out of the window. Akira occasionally gave a glance toward him, but never said anything.
Just as he had thought, patience is overrated.
Nowadays, fame is disconnected from excellence.
Someone could go viral and make a living from literally anything. Take Bhad Bhabie for example. So many are put on a pedestal just because they become the world's latest little interest for a few weeks before being tossed aside and made irrelevant once again. I might be a hypocrite, but everyone's so obsessed with glitz and glam and focusing on obnoxious rich people's lives. The tools that get reality shows contribute nothing of worth, the viral video sensations just become flavors of the week.
Some talentless deathmatch wrestlers that only know how to smash a light tube over someone's head get more attention than an actually talented fighter, but in the end, who will have the longer career? That's what makes the difference between a famous person and a talented person; the talented people are remembered long after they're gone.
That's the difference between me and the beta I'm facing soon. I'm here because of my talent, he's here because he got a little bit of clout.
I have to wonder, what makes him special? Is it that his moveset is like any generic powerhouse we've ever seen in this sport? Is it his generic look that almost had me confused with just about every single wannabe one percenter that thinks money substitutes for an actual personality? Maybe it's that he talks just about like every other annoying newcomer that thinks they should be given the world as soon as they step into the squared circle? I'm just.. trying to wrap my head around what made Rock Johnson decide that he would make a great addition to Project: Honor. There has to be something right…?
Oh, I can guess! Enhancement talent, right?
Sure, you beat Emmanuelle once, you got her while she was having some problems gaining momentum- That must have made you feel pretty good about yourself but as soon as you were in the same ring as me, you suffered a reality shock.
This time it isn't going to be any different.
But what do I know? I haven't hit my stride. I'm not at one hundred percent. That's what you had said, right, Cadillac?
I've always been a fan of making people that doubt me so heavily eat their words. Despite how many times I prove myself, despite how many times I show just how damn good I am in that ring- There's always someone like you who takes one look at me and is already making assumptions. Already thinking that they have me beat. Last Proving Ground, you barely gave me or Emmanuelle a second thought. You were so sure of yourself- and there was just… something so satisfying about hearing that one, two, three, and leaving you out cold as I dusted my hands of you.
Well, at least I thought I had. Turns out, I'm not through with you yet.
If I wasn't at my best last week and I still pinned you… What does that make you? Honey, why are you even here?
I have to know, do you come out to the ring in front of an audience to be the best? Or to earn some money and walk away eventually? Something tells me that's the latter, and it annoys me. It irritates me that a fake clown who can't even be bothered to pay that much attention to his opponents in his promos gets to wrestle here. It irritates me that more and more cookie-cutter bitches like you take up space in this company who think giving themselves verbal auto-fellatio while wearing overrated designer suits that were found on sale…
It irritates me that my PATIENCE has gotten me NOWHERE besides here- In the midcard with absolutely fucking nothing to show for it. I'm so sick of this constant stagnation. I don't honestly even want to see your face again, I already beat you, but you know what?
Complaining isn't going to get me anywhere. I'm not here to whine, I'm here to do what I do best- and that's making you tap.. while looking prettier than you and your fugly mohawk.
I have a lot of pent up frustration. After losing my XHF title, I have been waiting for a moment to blow off some steam- So suffice to say, sweetheart, this is going to be fun for me… I can't say it'll be that fun for you.
And hey, maybe after that- You can focus more on your little show while sidelined. Honestly? I'd be doing everyone that tunes in a favor once you're off their screens.
Jackson, the difference between you and I is as clear as night and day, hun. I'm hungry, I'm here to scratch and claw and EARN the chances that I know I deserve. I set the bar high for myself because I know I can always top my best performance. I know what I'm worth and I know that I can always do better, BE better.
You? You're here because it's just something you think is easy to do. You think you'll be able to walk in, win a championship, and kiss your own ass to the top. Sorry, babe, but it doesn't work that way.
I'm the Shining Star, you're just an annoying little rock that's orbited around me for longer than I like.
Years Ago..
“Hey, didn't we tell you that this is our spot?”
“Y-Yeah, but, you weren't sitting here-”
Shouta heard the altercation and looked over, slowly standing. A taller boy, wearing a varsity jacket, stood over a smaller Freshman in the cafeteria along with his group of friends. The Freshman looked down, clearly intimidated as his bully stood over him with a glare. “Does it look like I care?”
One of his friends took the tray of food that the Freshman had sitting over him and tossed it into a nearby trash can. The group laughed as the Freshman grew even more visibly scared as the bully jabbed a finger into his chest. “Move or I'll make you move.”
The Freshman began to move but was stopped by Shouta as he walked over. “Don't. You don't have to go anywhere if you don't want to.
The bully's expression shifted from one of confidence to slight nervousness. “Stay out of our business.”
“Or what? Do you want to fight again? I'll gladly kick your ass again if I have to. Maybe this time I'll break your fucking face.” Shouta spoke, clenching his fists as he stared the bully down intensely. The cafeteria went silent as everyone began paying attention to the growing hostility.
As some moments passed, the bully stepped back, somewhat flustered. Shouta had realized something a while back about people like him- they tend to back down once they realize someone wasn't scared of them.
“...Tch, whatever. Come on guys, let's go.” And the group left. Shouta took a deep breath, relaxing as he turned toward the Freshman again.
“Don't worry about them, they won't bother you any longer.” He spoke with a smile.
“...Thanks.”
“No problem.”
A smile grew on the future wrestler's face. It felt good to be aggressive.