Here on Through Their Own: A WWE Superstar's POV, I will be combining my loves of professional wrestling and creative writing to get inside the heads of various WWE Superstars and offer you an in-depth profile on them from their perspective, looking at their passions, motivations, goals, frustrations and more through their own eyes. Enjoy.
They called me their savior among the stars, taking risks with no reward. Flying high above the atmosphere, but what goes up, must come down. And when I did come crashing down, that was when they paid attention. It wasn't when I spoke or even approached the ring. The sole moment they appreciated my abilities was when I was doing something that entertained them. I felt pain, both on the outside and inside, after every one of those falls, but it was worth it as long as I was applauded for my efforts, no matter how many times I came up short whenever it mattered most.
They were desperate from change, but were quick to judge what was different. I didn't look like everyone else, but instead of making me stand out, my unique appearance made me a target for mockery.
It was then that I started to question why I did this for them.
Because, where were they? Where were they when in my moment of agony, with my ankle shattered, I needed them most? Where were they when I was forced to subsequently sit on the sidelines for what I had worked all year to be a part of? Where were they when I busted my ass every day to ensure I came back better than ever...for them?
I was merely an afterthought in the absence of stars I was told were bigger priorities than I was. While they wasted time rebuilding and redesigning, I changed orbits and realigned my arrow. I knew they didn't give a damn about me, because they never did. Rather, they solely cared what I could do for them. Now it was time to start doing themselves for myself.
My chance to be champion. My WrestleMania moment. Hell, even my first name. They took it all away. And now it was my turn to take from them.
I didn't hold out hope for a grand comeback story in my first bout back, so once I realized I was standing across the ring form the same man who I had faced in my Raw debut, it was almost a sad twist of fate. Essentially, nothing had changed from when I originally arrived on the scene. Not only was I blessed to be forgotten by gravity, I was simultaneously cursed to be forgotten by my “fans,” too. The only way anything would change was that if I initiated the change myself.
I descended into the darkness for a few months, plotting my return for when I saw fit. And then that opportunity came. Immediately following his successful title defense against two of the most elite athletes the company had to offer, I was ready to reintroduce myself to the man I was once friends with in Japan. Not by congratulating him on his victory or by shaking his hand, but by stabbing him in the back.
As soon as I hit that ring, I laid out my old ally with a stiff elbow shot to the head before setting my sights on the other man who had wronged me in stealing my spotlight. And all those months, nay, years, of pent-up frustration came oozing out of me. Never before had I felt so vindicated. The cries from children questioning my actions were drowned out by boos–and I could not have been happier.
I left carnage in my wake that night, an evening that marked my actual awakening. I was and have been justified in everything I have done and will continue to do until I my talents are recognized, commemorated, and celebrated.. I have been beaten, I have been broken. But this hurt I feel will be what leads me to taking my rightful place among the immortals as the king of the Cruiserweights.
I am Neville.
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