Post by Zack Fantana on Jan 5, 2017 2:11:42 GMT -5
He'd hoped for some order. What he found instead threw him into further disarray.
Zack Fantana was destined for round 3 of the Alpha Cup tournament and Bindy Trent had just given him the closest call of his A.W.E. campaign as Zack managed a narrow escape by means of using the ropes for leverage. Fantana felt like he was losing his edge and all he wanted now was to get back to the basics, away from the seeds that Bobby Franchise had planted into his brain about finances and injury risks. Coming to Rico's always kept his mind from wandering, because Rico kept him busier and pushed him harder than any personal trainer ever had.
Zack dropped his duffle bag on the stoop and furrowed his brow at bright red sign with the word "FORECLOSURE" written on it in damning bold lettering. Despite the fact that the rest of the street was littered with similar signs, seeing this one was surreal. Rico had lived in this neighborhood his entire life and he had owned this gym for twenty of them. What would he do now?
Fantana gazed in through the glass door, attempting to get a look at the inside. He was quickly startled by a booming voice shouting behind him.
"Hey!"
Zack instinctively turned around and held his hands in the air.
"I was just hoping to talk to Rico. I'm an old regular."
The man cackled as he shuffled over toward the stoop.
"You're wearing a three-piece suit. I didn't think you were casing the place. Christ, I thought you were the bank. I was gonna ask you a question."
Looking down at his suit, Zack slowly lowered his hands, not realizing until now just how out of place he looked in this part of town, even more so than the tourists he had laughed at in this very spot just five weeks ago.
"Oh, this."
Zack snatched the Resilience Championship out of his duffle bag and held it up for the man to see.
"Rico requested a picture with the--"
Sensing the man's interest waning, Fantana abruptly cut that sentence short before setting the championship down atop his duffle bag.
"That doesn't matter. I'm Zack. And you are?"
Curling his lip, the man reluctantly answered.
"The name's Terry."
"Nice to meet you, Terry."
Zack extended his hand to shake Terry's hand but Terry was already rummaging through his jean jacket pockets, so Zack spun out of the awkward situation to face the gym door once again.
"So what's going on with the gym?"
Terry gestured towards the foreclosure sign with the can of dip before tapping it on his palm to loosen it up.
"The bank foreclosed on it."
He smiled stupidly and then opened the can of dip. Zack didn't know why he expected a different answer.
"Rico never mentioned having any money issues."
The man cackled, revealing an unflattering set of grey teeth.
"Guess you ain't been around much. If you were, you'd know this is practically a ghost town these days. Fuckin' look around. Ain't like they was getting walk-ins."
It was true. The street had more storefronts with plywood covering the windows than open signs. The last vestige of the block Zack had once known was the dive restaurant down adjacent to the gym.
"Come on, all these foreclosures and Clive's is still open?"
"Mmhmm."
"The owner's not even named Clive. Used to be Olive's until they got a C from the Health Department."
As they speak, the health department card hung perilously in the wind, giving them a glimpse of the letter O hidden behind it on the signage.
"Like I said, not much reason for folks to come down this way. Membership was dwindling fast. The market's been sapped up by these big fitness chains."
Zack expressed a look of confusion as he stepped in front of his old Bally Total Fitness duffle bag to conceal the logo.
"You don't say?"
"Yup. Can't keep up on all the trends, CrossFit and what have you."
A man walking down the sidewalk softly whispered "I do CrossFit." Terry shrugged his shoulders as he packed dip between his lower front teeth and lip, mumbling to Zack.
"All I can say is it's been a long time coming."
"Well... fuck. Thanks for your time, Terry."
With a grunt, Terry hobbled down the street once more, leaving Fantana alone staring at the foreclosure sign.
Zack Fantana sat on the stoop outside of Rico's Gym, a sullen look on his face as he rested his left arm on the duffle bag and raised his head to look toward the camera.
"You're used to getting everything you want, aren't you, Austin Gale? Money, mansions, cars, women. It should be hard to complain when you're a billionaire, but you still manage to do your thing.
I have to admit it made me smile as I watched you take Erron Wilder to task on his pretentiousness and irascibility when you combine the two with a greater flair than anyone I've ever known. The only reason your reputation isn't irreparably stained is because whenever your anger flares up and you do something unconscionable like assault your therapist, for instance, or frankly anything that you do out on that yacht with whatever poor girl goes out to sea with you, that's when you open up your checkbook. In the real world, we call that hush money. Your publicist calls it damage control. And who knows what your accountant calls it? 'Austin's free willy expenditure', perhaps? '$50,000 to say this never happened' should be title of your autobiography. Ghost written, of course, so you don't have to put an ounce of sweat into it."
Zack shook his head.
"You seem to think money makes you untouchable, as if you're playing a trick on the world each time you drain your bank account for another scandal. You really do fancy yourself a smooth talker, don't you, Austin? Well, I think you've mistaken that silver spoon clanging around in your mouth with a silver tongue. Hate to tell you that it isn't your words that are appealing to anyone. You have the intrinsic likability of a Martin Shkreli, my friend. It's a shame you've been trying to buy a personality for all these years because your brother Adam Wolfe used to have one to spare. But it's really the green that makes you convincing, Austin. And honestly, you're giving a lot of these people exactly what they want - a get rich quick scheme. They know you're the type of guy that sees a problem and his first solution is to throw daddy's money at it. Well, I hope you aren't as big of a walkover inside the ring as you are in life, Austin, because daddy's money won't solve a problem like Zack Fantana.
Me? I'm a self-made man. I didn't get to where I am in this business by standing on the shoulders of my family. I came from nothing and blazed my own trail. But don't get it twisted. I'm not saying that to garner your sympathy; I'm telling you this to offer you some perspective, because I'm honestly not certain that you'd know how to climb out of bed in the morning if someone wasn't there to hold your hand, Austin. The most baffling part about it is that you seem to like it that way. You spent the entirety of your life living on your father's dime. One would think that once you grew old enough, you'd be eager to carve out your own name. With the amount of money your father bestowed on you, you could have been anything, done anything and you chose to become a fucking shadow. You clutched onto big brother's coattails and became a professional wrestler just like him. And I thought private schools were supposed to nurture creativity."
Fantana rolled his eyes and snickered.
"Here's the thing, Austin. One day you're going to wake up with a hangover on that yacht that I've gotta believe is named the U.S.S. Date Rape and you'll realize that the only thing you ever lived up to in your life is the stereotype of a trust fund baby. Nothing you've ever achieved your life is on account of your hard work. Your daddy's? Sure. Not yours. You were a made man from the day you were born and you'll be a made man till the day you die.
Unfortunately for you, your social status won't mean a damn thing when you step into the ring with me, because I don't need to chop down your family tree to get through you, Austin Gale. All I need to do is keep doing what I've been doing for the past several months, and that's outlast everyone they throw my way. You seem to think you've got what it takes to knock me off. I have to admit that you've got some chops. You wouldn't have gotten this far in the Alpha Cup without some talent. But I've got something you don't have, Austin. One thing money can't buy - a little something called tenacity.
Do you know what that is? I doubt it. Your conviction has never really been tried in this business because you've never faced the consequences of failure. You've never fought for a meal."
Zack gestured toward the foreclosure sign behind him on the door.
"You've never had to worry about paying bills. You've never known the struggle of living paycheck-to-paycheck, because you've always had the money from daddy's estate as a contingency plan. Your mettle's never been tested."
Fantana glanced down to the Resilience Championship belt slung over his shoulder.
"You probably don't even recognize the word engraved on this belt because it doesn't mean a thing to you. That's the difference between you and me, Austin. Deep down, you'll never know for sure if you deserve to be here or if you're only getting the opportunity because daddy's money bought your way. You want to know why your bid for the Alpha Cup ends this weekend? Because I know I fucking belong. I never needed this championship to tell me that but it certainly feels like a lot of you did. It may have taken me outlasting the entire Resilience division in that battle royal for people to begin to recognize, but it's happening. People are taking notice. People are beginning to give me my due, because I've earnt it. And you? What have you earned, Austin Gale? Are you content wearing the crown of your father's hand-me-down empire? Or are you just as lost as you've ever been, waiting for big brother to give you direction? Since Wolfe lost his last marble many years ago, I'd be glad to step in for him. I'll tell you where you're going next. As far as the Alpha Cup tournament goes, it's time for you to jump onto that yacht and sail off into the sunset, my friend."
Zack began to collect his gear off the stoop and rose to his feet.
"You're used to getting everything you want, aren't you, Austin Gale? That's all about to change."
Zack Fantana was destined for round 3 of the Alpha Cup tournament and Bindy Trent had just given him the closest call of his A.W.E. campaign as Zack managed a narrow escape by means of using the ropes for leverage. Fantana felt like he was losing his edge and all he wanted now was to get back to the basics, away from the seeds that Bobby Franchise had planted into his brain about finances and injury risks. Coming to Rico's always kept his mind from wandering, because Rico kept him busier and pushed him harder than any personal trainer ever had.
Zack dropped his duffle bag on the stoop and furrowed his brow at bright red sign with the word "FORECLOSURE" written on it in damning bold lettering. Despite the fact that the rest of the street was littered with similar signs, seeing this one was surreal. Rico had lived in this neighborhood his entire life and he had owned this gym for twenty of them. What would he do now?
Fantana gazed in through the glass door, attempting to get a look at the inside. He was quickly startled by a booming voice shouting behind him.
"Hey!"
Zack instinctively turned around and held his hands in the air.
"I was just hoping to talk to Rico. I'm an old regular."
The man cackled as he shuffled over toward the stoop.
"You're wearing a three-piece suit. I didn't think you were casing the place. Christ, I thought you were the bank. I was gonna ask you a question."
Looking down at his suit, Zack slowly lowered his hands, not realizing until now just how out of place he looked in this part of town, even more so than the tourists he had laughed at in this very spot just five weeks ago.
"Oh, this."
Zack snatched the Resilience Championship out of his duffle bag and held it up for the man to see.
"Rico requested a picture with the--"
Sensing the man's interest waning, Fantana abruptly cut that sentence short before setting the championship down atop his duffle bag.
"That doesn't matter. I'm Zack. And you are?"
Curling his lip, the man reluctantly answered.
"The name's Terry."
"Nice to meet you, Terry."
Zack extended his hand to shake Terry's hand but Terry was already rummaging through his jean jacket pockets, so Zack spun out of the awkward situation to face the gym door once again.
"So what's going on with the gym?"
Terry gestured towards the foreclosure sign with the can of dip before tapping it on his palm to loosen it up.
"The bank foreclosed on it."
He smiled stupidly and then opened the can of dip. Zack didn't know why he expected a different answer.
"Rico never mentioned having any money issues."
The man cackled, revealing an unflattering set of grey teeth.
"Guess you ain't been around much. If you were, you'd know this is practically a ghost town these days. Fuckin' look around. Ain't like they was getting walk-ins."
It was true. The street had more storefronts with plywood covering the windows than open signs. The last vestige of the block Zack had once known was the dive restaurant down adjacent to the gym.
"Come on, all these foreclosures and Clive's is still open?"
"Mmhmm."
"The owner's not even named Clive. Used to be Olive's until they got a C from the Health Department."
As they speak, the health department card hung perilously in the wind, giving them a glimpse of the letter O hidden behind it on the signage.
"Like I said, not much reason for folks to come down this way. Membership was dwindling fast. The market's been sapped up by these big fitness chains."
Zack expressed a look of confusion as he stepped in front of his old Bally Total Fitness duffle bag to conceal the logo.
"You don't say?"
"Yup. Can't keep up on all the trends, CrossFit and what have you."
A man walking down the sidewalk softly whispered "I do CrossFit." Terry shrugged his shoulders as he packed dip between his lower front teeth and lip, mumbling to Zack.
"All I can say is it's been a long time coming."
"Well... fuck. Thanks for your time, Terry."
With a grunt, Terry hobbled down the street once more, leaving Fantana alone staring at the foreclosure sign.
Zack Fantana sat on the stoop outside of Rico's Gym, a sullen look on his face as he rested his left arm on the duffle bag and raised his head to look toward the camera.
"You're used to getting everything you want, aren't you, Austin Gale? Money, mansions, cars, women. It should be hard to complain when you're a billionaire, but you still manage to do your thing.
I have to admit it made me smile as I watched you take Erron Wilder to task on his pretentiousness and irascibility when you combine the two with a greater flair than anyone I've ever known. The only reason your reputation isn't irreparably stained is because whenever your anger flares up and you do something unconscionable like assault your therapist, for instance, or frankly anything that you do out on that yacht with whatever poor girl goes out to sea with you, that's when you open up your checkbook. In the real world, we call that hush money. Your publicist calls it damage control. And who knows what your accountant calls it? 'Austin's free willy expenditure', perhaps? '$50,000 to say this never happened' should be title of your autobiography. Ghost written, of course, so you don't have to put an ounce of sweat into it."
Zack shook his head.
"You seem to think money makes you untouchable, as if you're playing a trick on the world each time you drain your bank account for another scandal. You really do fancy yourself a smooth talker, don't you, Austin? Well, I think you've mistaken that silver spoon clanging around in your mouth with a silver tongue. Hate to tell you that it isn't your words that are appealing to anyone. You have the intrinsic likability of a Martin Shkreli, my friend. It's a shame you've been trying to buy a personality for all these years because your brother Adam Wolfe used to have one to spare. But it's really the green that makes you convincing, Austin. And honestly, you're giving a lot of these people exactly what they want - a get rich quick scheme. They know you're the type of guy that sees a problem and his first solution is to throw daddy's money at it. Well, I hope you aren't as big of a walkover inside the ring as you are in life, Austin, because daddy's money won't solve a problem like Zack Fantana.
Me? I'm a self-made man. I didn't get to where I am in this business by standing on the shoulders of my family. I came from nothing and blazed my own trail. But don't get it twisted. I'm not saying that to garner your sympathy; I'm telling you this to offer you some perspective, because I'm honestly not certain that you'd know how to climb out of bed in the morning if someone wasn't there to hold your hand, Austin. The most baffling part about it is that you seem to like it that way. You spent the entirety of your life living on your father's dime. One would think that once you grew old enough, you'd be eager to carve out your own name. With the amount of money your father bestowed on you, you could have been anything, done anything and you chose to become a fucking shadow. You clutched onto big brother's coattails and became a professional wrestler just like him. And I thought private schools were supposed to nurture creativity."
Fantana rolled his eyes and snickered.
"Here's the thing, Austin. One day you're going to wake up with a hangover on that yacht that I've gotta believe is named the U.S.S. Date Rape and you'll realize that the only thing you ever lived up to in your life is the stereotype of a trust fund baby. Nothing you've ever achieved your life is on account of your hard work. Your daddy's? Sure. Not yours. You were a made man from the day you were born and you'll be a made man till the day you die.
Unfortunately for you, your social status won't mean a damn thing when you step into the ring with me, because I don't need to chop down your family tree to get through you, Austin Gale. All I need to do is keep doing what I've been doing for the past several months, and that's outlast everyone they throw my way. You seem to think you've got what it takes to knock me off. I have to admit that you've got some chops. You wouldn't have gotten this far in the Alpha Cup without some talent. But I've got something you don't have, Austin. One thing money can't buy - a little something called tenacity.
Do you know what that is? I doubt it. Your conviction has never really been tried in this business because you've never faced the consequences of failure. You've never fought for a meal."
Zack gestured toward the foreclosure sign behind him on the door.
"You've never had to worry about paying bills. You've never known the struggle of living paycheck-to-paycheck, because you've always had the money from daddy's estate as a contingency plan. Your mettle's never been tested."
Fantana glanced down to the Resilience Championship belt slung over his shoulder.
"You probably don't even recognize the word engraved on this belt because it doesn't mean a thing to you. That's the difference between you and me, Austin. Deep down, you'll never know for sure if you deserve to be here or if you're only getting the opportunity because daddy's money bought your way. You want to know why your bid for the Alpha Cup ends this weekend? Because I know I fucking belong. I never needed this championship to tell me that but it certainly feels like a lot of you did. It may have taken me outlasting the entire Resilience division in that battle royal for people to begin to recognize, but it's happening. People are taking notice. People are beginning to give me my due, because I've earnt it. And you? What have you earned, Austin Gale? Are you content wearing the crown of your father's hand-me-down empire? Or are you just as lost as you've ever been, waiting for big brother to give you direction? Since Wolfe lost his last marble many years ago, I'd be glad to step in for him. I'll tell you where you're going next. As far as the Alpha Cup tournament goes, it's time for you to jump onto that yacht and sail off into the sunset, my friend."
Zack began to collect his gear off the stoop and rose to his feet.
"You're used to getting everything you want, aren't you, Austin Gale? That's all about to change."