Darin Zion
“GET OUT!!”
A voice screams before everyone can hear the slam of the door behind them. Out in the middle of the MGM Grand foyer, we see Darin Zion and Meredith standing outside of it. Darin flings himself against the door before pounding the hell out of the door. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Zion’s voice bellows throughout the halls in front of all the guest.
“HOW DARE YOU NOT ACCOMMODATE ME! You will hear from my lawyers. They will make sure I get the justice I demand. You will rue the day you crossed me. You will NEVER, EVER forget the name Darin Aloysius Matthews-Zion.”
Huffing before stomping his foot down with force, The Master of Self-Loving, Darin Aloysius Matthews Zion storms back towards his normal accommodations. After losing the first round of the Almasy Invitational, DAMZ’s luck continued to drop. He’d always had a knack for showboating and gloating. The one thing everyone knew about Zion was his attitude problems. He had qualms about getting in your face, regardless if you liked it or not. Sometimes, the strategy paid off for him and others…well…
Meredith Easton grabbed her forehead with great disgust. She had enough of Zion’s childish outburst. While she loved her man with all her heart; clearly his efforts of doubling down got on her last nerves. “For the love of God, Zion, can you once pull your head out of your ass. There’s a reason why you tanked so hard in the first round to Impulse. You got lost in that huge ego of yours.”
Meredith’s lover wastes no time snuffing his nose to her idea. Zion points and ridicules his lovely life partner. “Nonsense, darling. Absolute nonsense coming out of your mouth. I’ve spent 15 years traveling the circuit with the top names of this business. I’ve held 3 promotions top championships. Everyone LOVES me! EVERYONE does. They say I’m a saint to work with backstage. I bust my ass night in and night out for everyone company I join. Clearly, I put butts in seats, even if this little mom and pop shop doesn’t know how I……operate! HMPH! The nerve to suggest…”
Meredith’s had enough. Yanking with force onto Zion’s lips, she shuts him up. Her eyes glow with an intense rage. Her face glowed with the heat of a thousand suns. She’s spent all day dealing with Zion’s arrogant attitude in the car. “Babe, we’ve travelled nearly 13 hours in the car. I’ve had to put up with your complaints. Did it ever occur to you Lindsay Troy’s trying to humble you? She gave you the opportunity to…”
“That bitch did NOTHING for me. She walked out on our family in HOW. She obviously thought I came here thinking I’d enjoy playing an enhancement talent again. I did that in 4CW too much. I’d much rather bust my ass and earn my way to the top. But I need concessions and that bitch won’t give it to me,” Zion groaned and grumbled under his breath.
“Accept what you’ve been given. Enjoy it! You damn well know you don’t get the honeymoon suite for a street raff performance. We’ve travelled this road together for years, babe.” Meredith scolds Zion before kissing him on the forehead. Zion bats his eyes before Meredith continues to yank Zion down the hall by the ear. She continues to scald him. “This week’s multiman has a lot of steaks. You’re facing off against Bobby Dean, Nathan Filmix, and Shawn Warstein.”
“So?” Zion asks while rebuking Meredith. “Haven’t you figured it out? I’m only doing this for my adoring fans. That and the pay check. I have no interest in cramming a bundt cake down Bobby Dean’s fucking fat throat again. It’s the same damn dog and pony show with Dean. He’s always shoving little Debbie’s down his fucking pants, losing all the great strides. Fucker always chokes. Filmix….Philbert….Robo-Cop thinks he’s a fucking terminator. Don’t care! See the boring bucket of bolts in MVW. He’s got more charisma than this cat.”
Meredith stops in her tracks and crosses her arms together. “And Shawn Warstein?!”
Darin Zion shakes his head. “We don’t talk about Shawn Warstein. He’s the most ruthless bastard in the match. Everyone knows I’m fucking dead with that guy in the match. He’s out for two things. Blood and burials. There’s nothing between with that man. I’ve watched his career from a far. His reputation proceeds him. All I care about is not getting my face ripped off by the guy.”
Meredith rolls her eyes into the back of her head. She throws her hands up into the air. “You’re shitting me? You could upset one of the biggest names of professional wrestling and you’re throwing it all away? You could be hitting the hotel gym right now getting some reps in to save your ass. But no, typical Darin…you give up immediately.”
Darin nods with emphatic force. A devious smile curves along his face. “It’s self-love, baby girl. I can’t afford another scratch on this beautiful face. Preservation is important in this business. You can’t have a money maker like mine get shredded to a million pieces.”
“I can’t even right now…” Meredith squawks under her breath before storming off. Before leaving, she rips the key card out of Darin Aloysius Matthews-Zion’s hands. The look on Darin’s face says it all. It’s thoughtless and selfish. He shirks off Meredith’s feelings while sauntering back to the lobby of the hotel casino.
“Well…” he stalls before getting enamored by the lure of the glowing neon signs of the casino. “I guess I’ll do what I do best. Fuck bitches and get rich. It’s what I know best!”
THREE HOURS LATER
We’ve made it into the wee hours of the night. Everyone’s crawled into the beds, getting their beauty rest. But not Darin Zion! When you’re in the city that never sleeps; you always cash in your chips. Panning over to the hotel bar, we see Zion stumbling over to get a refill of a martini. It’s obviously shaken, not stirred. Only the best way for someone to get their martini, duh!
Downing his fourth glass like its water; he turns his attention to two blondes on the other side. A lustful look appears in his eyes. A smitten smirk forms over his face as he hobbles over there. Using the chairs as his support, he finally makes his way over to the two cute blondes. Embarking on his quest for more love; he squeezes in between both of them.
“Hey babes! You ever thought about wrestling a true pro in the bedroom?!” He blurts out in a drunken stupor.
WHACK! WHACK!
After both women slap the piss out of his mouth, Zion’s look of confusion settles. Shaking his head, he writes off their outright denial of his unwanted advances. “Suit yourselves! You would have wrestled with one of the bests. I’m a 24-time champion. Soon to capture a 25th. You damn well know I can out wrestle these pathetic losers in this casino.”
Letting out an audible exhale, he reaches down into his wallet. To his surprise, it’s only filled with lent and fuzz balls. Disappointment settles as Zion’s face drupes. Tears roll down his eye profusely.
“God damnit! God damnit all! I fuckin’ hate this! I can’t even right now.” He shouts out before shattering the martini glass on the floor. Reflecting on his terrible record of accomplishments. Sulking to himself, he collects himself off the chair and walks outside. Strolling down the Las Vegas strip; his eyes lock on the local Walgreens nearby. Zion meanders into the store, searching the aisle. Only one thing is on his mind.
PROTEIN SHAKES!
If one decides to hit rock bottom; you might as well be rock hard. You’ve got to build those rock-hard abs. Having the stature of a Greek God protects you from those massive punches to the face. If Zion were to meet Warstein in the middle of that ring; he better take the punch like a champ. Those fists would come flying like a war hammer. And Darin knew they’d hurt like hell.
In the back of his mind, he thought he had a snowball’s chance in hell. While the talent pool stacked against him; maybe he could upset the odds. Maybe he could fight like hell. He could potentially use the remaining time he didn’t waste training his ass off. While the daunting task haunted Zion’s mind, he stumbles into the Hallmark section of cards.
He lets out a long-drawn sigh before shaking his head. “Meredith! God damnit I fucked up with her tonight.” He mutters underneath his breath. He searches over all the Love cards, looking for something to speak to him.
But nothing ever spoke to him. The sudden realization started hitting Zion like a ton of bricks. Maybe he didn’t love himself as much as he thought. Maybe he fucked up in the tournament. He overlooked his opponents because he bought into the lies, he told himself. The weight of the world now stood on Zion’s shoulders heading into this match. The choice was now his to make the changes needed to win on the big stage.