Chin Up, Fists Raised

[Mr. T]

Every cloud has a silver lining, or so they say.

Sometime it's finding it that's the hard part...

Danny staggers through the curtain into the backstage area. The surroundings are spinning, his head is pounding - he feels like a hangover has hit him while he's still drunk. As some members of the backstage crew watch the young man with expressions of concern, Danny does his best to stand up straight; but as he does the horrible feeling hits him: nausea. Starting at the stomach, and rapidly working it's way up to his mouth.

"Oh God..." Danny barely manages to utter, before stumbling towards a nearby bin just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into it.

Groaning, Danny lifts his head and wipes his mouth. He looks towards the approaching group of people, but he doesn't really see them. His eyes are watering and the stench from the bin is entering his nostrils, causing him to feel an encore performance approaching.

"Are you okay?" a male voice asks as Danny is helped to his feet.

Am I okay? Danny can't help but find some humour in how ridiculous the question is. Does he look okay? Of course he isn't, both physically and emotionally.

"Get him to the medical room," Danny hears another voice speak. "He's had a gruelling night."

Gruelling indeed... and now Danny can't help but think that this is a fitting conclusion. Humiliation, sorrow, pain - all the things Danny will remember of the nightmarish event that Scars and Stripes was.

His eyes closed, Danny takes a deep breath before allowing himself to be led away.

...

Forty Five minutes later Danny sits in the locker room, devoid of company. Unsurprisingly (when you consider only three men remained in the Royal Rumble following his elimination) the Pay-Per-View has reached it's conclusion. Hearing the news that Brett Cross had been the victorious man was no consolation to Danny - just another kick while he was down.

The doctors had given him a thorough examination and found nothing seriously wrong. Just a case of exhaustion and a lot of nasty bumps and bruises. Now he is left here alone to think while he musters the energy required to get changed and leave - and how much he has to consider.

Once again Danny had come so close, not just on one occasion but tonight on two. He was seconds away from victory over Brett Cross - so close he could taste it - when fate was cruelly twisted and glory snatched away from him. Perched and ready to finish Brett off, Danny had expected to leave the top rope and crash down to a triumphant thud; instead he was thrown to his doom.

And then the Royal Rumble...

Danny lays his head in his hands as he contemplates the event. What more could he have done? Even after the psychological blow he suffered at the hands of Brett, he managed to play out his strategy to perfection and fought so had to survive right until the very end. However, it all came crashing down again. Tired and beaten, Danny somehow made it to the last four before being eliminated. So near, yet so agonisingly far.

So now here he sits, with nothing to show for his efforts but the pangs of pain that shoot around every part of his body. Wincing, he reaches and grabs a small bottle sitting on the bench next to him - the painkillers prescribed to get him through the night. After opening the bottle up and emptying two of the pills into his palm, Danny sighs and is just about to take them when he is suddenly interrupted.

"Is that what it's come to, little brother?"

Danny lifts his head so fast that his neck cries out in pain, but the shock numbs it. Standing in front of him in a plush navy suit - not to mention looking as smug as a pug in a private jet - is his brother, Sam.

"What the hell do you want?" Danny asks angrily as his right hands balls into a fist, crushing the pills he held in it.

"All I wanted to do was come here and see how my brother is doing. By the looks of it not too well."

Danny frowns. "I never invited you. Why would I? The last time I saw you you were kicking me in the nuts!"

"I do recall," Sam replies with a smirk. The urge to wipe it from his face is too much for Danny to take, and he stands as quickly as his body will allow. However, before he can take another step, Sam holds his hand up in a stop gesture. "Please, Danny... are you really in any fit state to fight? Don't make me hospitalise you."

"I might have seen better days, but I can still kick your ass," Danny scoffs.

Sam shrugs. "Possibly... but I'm sure my friends would be a different matter," he responds, before a click of his fingers prompts two large men to step into the room and stand behind him. The confusion on Danny's face clearly provides his brother with much enjoyment. "Hired by Mark Rivera himself."

"Rivera?" Danny mutters with a frown.

"Indeed. He was very obliging in getting me here. Plane tickets, V.I.P treatment, security. It would appear he hates you almost as much as I do."

Rolling his eyes, Danny has heard enough. "Well you got what you came here for, so why don't you get the hell out of here and leave me alone."

"Before imparting a few words of brotherly advice?" Sam asks with a smile.

"And what might they be?"

"Give it up," Sam's initial reply is blunt. "Do you know what you are, Danny? You're a nearly man, and it's because you're too soft. You care too much about satisfying the fans. You waste your time attending autograph signings and replying to their fan mail, when you should be focused on one thing alone: improving every day. Do you think Brett Cross gives a damn what those people think? All they are are the sad morons paying your wages because they have nothing better to do. And the saddest irony of all? If you don't hurry up and present them with the glory they so desperately need to leech off, they will drop you anyway."

"Whatever," Danny replies with little interest as he sits back down. "Just go."

"Oh I'm going. The pathetic sight of you disgusts me. But heed my words, Danny: change your attitude, or you'll always be the man who almost broke through the glass ceiling."

With that said, Sam takes one last look at his brother and shakes his head before turning away and leaving with his hired goons.

"Will this night ever end?" Danny grunts to nobody's benefit but his own, before sitting back and running his hands through his hair as the scene fades.

~XXXXXXXXXX~

THE BELOVED UNDERDOG

Everybody loves an underdog. I can't say for sure why that is. Maybe it's because seeing someone expected to fail overcome the odds instills belief that we can achieve the same. Maybe it's because underdogs don't carry around that aura of arrogance. Whatever the reason, when it comes to the sporting world, there are few feelings better than seeing that a person or team nobody gave a chance overcoming one marked for mass success. Who doesn't want to see the Yankees fall to a lesser opponent - excluding their own fans of course.

Throughout the years professional wrestling has seen many underdogs, but perhaps none so popular in recent years as one Danny Tenfold. Tenfold is the perpetual nice guy of EUW, a man whose actions are always motivated by the right thing to do. Add to that his fan pleasing high-flying offense and you get the perfect fan favourite.

It is not just those attributes that warm a fan to Tenfold though. In this industry often dominated by brute force, heart is a sometimes an unappreciated characteristic. But it is one that Tenfold has in so many bucket loads that the fact is unavoidable. The spirit he displays with each and every performance - no matter the odds - is infectious, and the young man is impossible to dislike.

However, Tenfold is also an underdog. Still in his first year as a EUW roster member, and relatively small in comparison to a lot of his foes, he is a rookie who finds himself battling the odds on a regular basis. But does Tenfold let this break him? Not at all. With every setback he picks himself back up, ready to wait for his next chance to shine and give it his all once again. Tenfold is not only the definition of underdog, he is also the definition of a fan favourite. Week by week he builds his legion of fans, and every single one of them wants to see him reap the rewards he deserves.

The question is: can this young pup claw and climb his way up from underdog to the top of the pack? Only time will tell. But one thing is for certain: he is a man to keep your eye on, and may well be the future of this business.

Shaking his head, Danny wears a wry smile as he closes the latest edition of EUW Magazine and places it on the tray in front of him. We now join the young man on his flight to Moscow for the next edition of Sunday Night Vengeance; but while the magazine was intended to distract him, it has only caused him to think back to his impromptu meeting with Sam.

Did his brother have some valid points? Of course his fans mean the world to Danny and he would never turn his back on them, but would he be better served to toughen up? Perhaps his brothers harsh words - as negatively as they were intended - can be turned to a positive purpose.

"That young man looked an awful lot like you," a voice says from besides Danny. He turns to see the passenger seated next to him - a dark haired woman who looks to be in her early thirties - nod towards the magazine as she smiles. "Forgive my prying. I'll be honest with you, these long flights bore the everliving hell out of me."

"I think the feeling is mutual for most," Danny replies with a chuckle.

"Sarah," the woman says, extending her hand as she does.

Smiling Danny shakes it. "Danny."

"So am I mistaken or was that actually you?"

Danny nods. "Yup. Didn't you recognise me? I'm something of a superstar," he says jokingly. "Or, if I'm being honest, I'm a professional wrestler just starting out in the big leagues, and I spend most of my days getting my ass handed to me..."

Sarah chuckles. Like so many before her, she seems to have been sucked in by his modest form of charm. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"No, I guess not," Danny responds. "I mean, in all honesty I have a wonderful job. Do I get beat up a lot? Sure. But I get pretty nice paycheck for my troubles, and I get to travel the world doing something I love - how many people can say that?"

"Only a privileged few," Sarah agrees.

"Exactly. I mean, right now I'm on a flight to Moscow, Russia. This is a place I never dreamed I'd be privileged enough to visit, and here I am, free of charge - in fact I'm being paid." Pausing for a moment, Danny's smile fades and he sighs. "So I guess right now I feel pretty damn ungrateful..."

"Why is that?" Sarah asks with a frown.

"Because at the moment all I can think of are the down sides to my job. I find myself becoming the one thing I thought I'd never be: a pessimist... and it's eating me up inside."

"And those down sides are? You just did a pretty good job of explaining how lucky you are."

"Oh believe me, I wasn't lying," Danny replies. "But I also wasn't lying about the getting beat up part. And when you give all you have to give and come up short... it sucks. I find myself looking for new ways to pick myself up on a basis so regular I'm not too comfortable with it. Take last week for example: I did every possible thing I could have to beat my opponent. I threw the kitchen sink and more at the guy, and it wasn't enough. Now don't get me wrong, he was a tough bastard - excuse my language - and it's really nothing to be ashamed of; but it's still tough to forget and move on, and in a fast moving business like professional wrestling you don't get much time to stop and think."

Apparently understanding Danny's points, Sarah nods. "And I take it you have to forget in time for a match when we get to Moscow?"

"That's right," Danny replies with a nod, as his thoughts shift to that match. "It's against two very tough opponents as well - in the last match of the night no less - so it's not going to be easy. Think of it as being a baseball team that has to face the likes of the New York Yankees every single time they go out there."

"But you can win, right?" Sarah asks with an encouraging tone.

Danny strokes his stubble for a moment as he thinks about this, before eventually nodding. "I'm sure I can. Both of these guys are talented as hell and are going to be big, but I do believe I have the arsenal to take them out. It's just a matter of not being distracted by my past failures, y'know?"

"I understand."

"It's actually kinda funny, because this one guy, they keep giving me matches where I can get my hands on him, but not in a one-on-one situation; and believe me, I really want to get this guy in the ring in a scenario where he has nowhere to hide."

"You're not a fan of him then?" Sarah asks with a smile, appearing quite pleased to have eased her boredom with this conversation.

"I don't think anyone is. His name's Roy Viper, and he basically screwed my boss - well, my old boss now - out of ownership of the company, and he did it for his own selfish gains. What makes it harder to take is that we worked together before that, and I actually considered him a friend for a while..." Shaking his head, Danny exhales bitterly. "I won't mince my words. I just want to get him in that ring and beat the crap out of him. I'm not sure why I think it would make me feel better... Part avenging a man who showed a lot of faith in me, part hoping to beat some sense into him, I guess."

"And your other opponent? Do you hate him with a passion too?" Sarah asks with a smirk.

Danny can't help but chuckle. "Quite the opposite, actually. Bane is a man I have a lot of respect for. He doesn't go around getting in peoples' faces or looking for handouts. He just gets his head down and gets on with his business - a rarity in this business, believe me; but it seems to have been working for him. He's worked his way up the ranks at an impressive rate, and he's definitely one to watch. I think him and I could be meeting each other a lot in the future, so that's all the motivation I need to get one up on him."

"Sounds to me like you have this more in hand than you think you do."

"Maybe. I definitely see it as a must-win match, and that's the sort of pressure I usually channel into a positive and feed off." As he pauses for a moment, an idea pops into Danny's head - a glaringly obvious one now he thinks about it. "Hey... this might sound like shameless promotion, but you should come out to the show, or at least try to catch it on TV. I mean, now you know the great Danny Tenfold it makes sense to become a fan and use me s your claim to fame, right?" he asks with a cheeky grin.

His new friend can't help but chuckle. "Maybe I'll do that, if only to find out if you actually pull this off."

"That's the spirit! I promise you won't be disappointed - win or lose!"

"But it'll be win, right?"

Now a picture of exuberant confidence, Danny nods. "Oh for sure!"

"Good."

"Now, I'm well aware I've spent quite a while talking about myself, and - as awesome as I am - I feel like I should give you the chance to do the same."

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

Danny nods. "Of course! So tell me: what do you do."

Smiling, Sarah prepares to take over as the driving force of the conversation. However, as surely nobody wants to hear this now their favourite wrestler is done, we have reached the point where the scene fades to black.

While Danny Tenfold may be considered a great underdog and finds no shame in such a label, it is certainly one he doesn't want to be branded with for the rest of his career. Now is the time for Danny to step up and bounce back from his gut wrenching night at Scars and Stripes. As difficult as that may be, he must now put that behind him and start building a new reputation, one more worthy of being remembered for when he unlaces his boots for the final time. It is a daunting quest, but the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and Danny must take that step in Moscow by defeating two dangerous foes.

How ironic that Danny would find his silver lining whilst actually among the clouds.