Company Man
Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 10:57 pm
Warfare Wildcard. They told him he’d have a match. He’d know what kind and against who the morning of showtime. They were still working out the details. So at the moment, Adam Copeland was sitting in a casino, watching the cocktail waitresses walk by and occasionally putting money in a slot machine. It was eight in the morning, and Adam had no real idea about how long he’d been there. Randy had left around two. So hours. He’d been here for hours. He needed a shower in the worst way. He felt a hand in his short hair, and he raised an eyebrow as he turned around.
Cocktail Waitress: What’s the matter, sweetheart? You down?
Adam Copeland: Up a grand, but been a long… night? Morning?
He smirked a little bit.
Adam Copeland: I’m down in every other way though, so I guess the money is a positive.
Cocktail Waitress: Why does life got you down? This is Vegas. You’re on vacation. You should be on top of the world.
Adam Copeland: Actually, I’m here on business. And you live here in Vegas, don’t you…
Adam looked past the woman’s ample cleavage to read her name tag.
Adam Copeland: …Megan? Is it everything it’s cracked up to be?
Cocktail Waitress: No, I guess it’s not.
He nodded. He could believe that.
Adam Copeland: My best friend had a baby.
Cocktail Waitress: That’s nice.
Adam Copeland: Is it? It’s not!
Cocktail Waitress: Doesn’t she love being a mother?
Adam Copeland: Oh, no. He’s a dude. I’m sure his wife loves being a mother, but him being a dad? Severely limiting my social life! He went to bed at TWO. TWO! We were pre-gaming at 2am this time two years go, and now he’s freakin’ responsible or something.
She nodded, inching the beverage tray a little closer to him.
Adam Copeland: Oh, Nikki needs to sleep. And Karlee isn’t quite sleeping through the night yet, and… did they even ask me to be one of the Godparents? Nope. A decade of friendship, and for what?
She frowned.
Cocktail Waitress: Don’t you have a girlfriend or something?
Adam Copeland: Hah. All the better. The woman I love? Dating the World Heavyweight Champion. Again. Because apparently where the World Championship goes, Trish goes.
His phone beeped on the little table in front of the slot machine and he reached for it. A text message read:
“You’re facing Crowe. We’ll have more details soon.”
Adam threw one hand up.
Adam Copeland: And now I get to lose to the guy who beat John Cena for the World Heavyweight Championship like I DIDN’T DO IT FIRST. The hell. This is great. This is just great!
Cocktail Waitress: What exactly do you do?
She was looking at him funny, and Adam threw some money down on the table.
Adam Copeland: What are you, a closet IWC member? Go get on tumblr and leave a comment okay. What exactly do you do, like I don’t get that every, fuckin’ day. God.
The woman jumped back a little as Adam stormed past her. He went through the casino without cashing out, and to the elevator banks. He pressed the up button, glad his room was just upstairs. His phone went off again, and he was expecting a fancy match stipulation. He read the screen, seeing the name “Rachel Collins”. Better known to the EBWF World as MsChif. Adam and Rachel had become pretty great friends, once she’d gotten past his terrible awkwardness. She was one of the few girls he could just talk to on the road without feeling like he had to flirt, or be smooth. He liked her for her brain, and that was a rare thing.
“Hey. I just wanted to let you know that after a long meeting today, I decided not to renew my contract. I know it’s easy to lose friendships, and something exciting might be one the horizon for me. Keep in touch, okay? I mean it.”
Adam stared at his screen blankly and muttered a low curse before he pocketed his phone again.
Adam Copeland: Great. Just great.
He stepped into the elevator when it opened and pressed the button to take him to his floor.
Adam Copeland: What exactly do I do?
He cursed again. He’d take a nap. He’d go out on Warfare. He’d get his pop, and then he’d wait three months to be booked again. That’s what it meant to be a company man. And from where Adam was sitting, without his successful, happy friends. Being a company man, sucked.
OOC: Just a fun little piece. Thanks Raza!
Cocktail Waitress: What’s the matter, sweetheart? You down?
Adam Copeland: Up a grand, but been a long… night? Morning?
He smirked a little bit.
Adam Copeland: I’m down in every other way though, so I guess the money is a positive.
Cocktail Waitress: Why does life got you down? This is Vegas. You’re on vacation. You should be on top of the world.
Adam Copeland: Actually, I’m here on business. And you live here in Vegas, don’t you…
Adam looked past the woman’s ample cleavage to read her name tag.
Adam Copeland: …Megan? Is it everything it’s cracked up to be?
Cocktail Waitress: No, I guess it’s not.
He nodded. He could believe that.
Adam Copeland: My best friend had a baby.
Cocktail Waitress: That’s nice.
Adam Copeland: Is it? It’s not!
Cocktail Waitress: Doesn’t she love being a mother?
Adam Copeland: Oh, no. He’s a dude. I’m sure his wife loves being a mother, but him being a dad? Severely limiting my social life! He went to bed at TWO. TWO! We were pre-gaming at 2am this time two years go, and now he’s freakin’ responsible or something.
She nodded, inching the beverage tray a little closer to him.
Adam Copeland: Oh, Nikki needs to sleep. And Karlee isn’t quite sleeping through the night yet, and… did they even ask me to be one of the Godparents? Nope. A decade of friendship, and for what?
She frowned.
Cocktail Waitress: Don’t you have a girlfriend or something?
Adam Copeland: Hah. All the better. The woman I love? Dating the World Heavyweight Champion. Again. Because apparently where the World Championship goes, Trish goes.
His phone beeped on the little table in front of the slot machine and he reached for it. A text message read:
“You’re facing Crowe. We’ll have more details soon.”
Adam threw one hand up.
Adam Copeland: And now I get to lose to the guy who beat John Cena for the World Heavyweight Championship like I DIDN’T DO IT FIRST. The hell. This is great. This is just great!
Cocktail Waitress: What exactly do you do?
She was looking at him funny, and Adam threw some money down on the table.
Adam Copeland: What are you, a closet IWC member? Go get on tumblr and leave a comment okay. What exactly do you do, like I don’t get that every, fuckin’ day. God.
The woman jumped back a little as Adam stormed past her. He went through the casino without cashing out, and to the elevator banks. He pressed the up button, glad his room was just upstairs. His phone went off again, and he was expecting a fancy match stipulation. He read the screen, seeing the name “Rachel Collins”. Better known to the EBWF World as MsChif. Adam and Rachel had become pretty great friends, once she’d gotten past his terrible awkwardness. She was one of the few girls he could just talk to on the road without feeling like he had to flirt, or be smooth. He liked her for her brain, and that was a rare thing.
“Hey. I just wanted to let you know that after a long meeting today, I decided not to renew my contract. I know it’s easy to lose friendships, and something exciting might be one the horizon for me. Keep in touch, okay? I mean it.”
Adam stared at his screen blankly and muttered a low curse before he pocketed his phone again.
Adam Copeland: Great. Just great.
He stepped into the elevator when it opened and pressed the button to take him to his floor.
Adam Copeland: What exactly do I do?
He cursed again. He’d take a nap. He’d go out on Warfare. He’d get his pop, and then he’d wait three months to be booked again. That’s what it meant to be a company man. And from where Adam was sitting, without his successful, happy friends. Being a company man, sucked.
OOC: Just a fun little piece. Thanks Raza!
