characters and the real people in this story do not belong to me.
The characters belong to Vince McMahon and WWE, and the real people
own themselves. This story will contain some adult situations and
swearing. You have been warned.
A/N: Yes, a new story, I know, I know, another one. Anyways, this one takes place in 1992 approximately, and Chris is 22. Um, I don't know what else to say, but I hope you enjoy it. :)
Anyways, leave a review, as always, be brutal if you want to, I appreciate all reviews.
Chris couldn't believe the opportunity that he had been given. He wasn't five months out of the infamous Hart Dungeon when he got the call, the call he had been waiting for since he was just a little kid with a dream. The WWF had called and he had been in talks with them for a little while now. They were interested in bringing him in for a tryout, and if that worked out well then he would be offered an actual contract. When he had first gotten out of training, he had gone through some of the indy companies with his friend and tag-team partner, Lance Storm, and had done some traveling, but he didn't know his name was out there.
But apparently it had been as the call had been made to him. At first he thought it might be a joke, he wasn't that experienced and hadn't paid his dues so to speak, but it hadn't been. If it had been a joke, he would've laughed it off, but this was serious. This was the big time, in fact, this was the biggest time. Everyone knew that the WWF was considered the big leagues, the very big leagues. Chris had dreamed of making it big, making a name for himself and for it to be coming so soon was an incredible rush. He was only twenty-two so he had many years ahead of him, and yet, here he was, almost to the biggest company in wrestling.
"Don't get cocky now."
"Shut up Lance," Chris said good-naturedly as he looked over at his friend who was stirring a cup of coffee.
"What? I'm just saying that you shouldn't get cocky now that the WWF has invited you in for a tryout. How the hell did they get your name anyways?"
"I don't know," Chris shrugged. "Maybe one of the guys I wrestled with over in Japan or something. I did meet Kevin Nash, maybe he said something. The important thing is that my name is out there. That means that maybe I can you know, make it really big and buy a huge house and a nice car and not that piece of shit that I drive now."
"It would be nice if you had a car that actually had air conditioning."
"That would be nice instead of living with the windows rolled down which gets annoying," Chris responded. "Can you imagine if I actually get a contract, that's going to rock so much. Oh man, I'll finally have money to go to all those metal concerts I want to go to."
"Yeah, and food, and a place to live and all of that," Lance said sensibly. "Unless you plan to have all this money and then live in your car."
"Don't ruin my buzz man," Chris said.
"So when are you flying out there?"
"Tomorrow," Chris said. "I'm meeting with Vince freaking McMahon. Can you believe that? Vince McMahon, he's made and broken people. I'm a little nervous to tell you the truth."
"YOU'RE nervous, I think this is a first," Lance told him.
"I don't need your damn commentary Storm," Chris told him.
"Dude, just go back to the room, listen to some Maiden and you'll be good to go in the morning, trust me," Lance said. "There's nothing to be nervous about."
"Easy for you to say, you don't have to meet with Vince freaking McMahon, he's like…man, I don't know," Chris muttered. He looked up at Lance. "I don't have any experience."
"Sure you do, we've been wrestling around, we both are trained by the best, you can't go in there acting like a little pansy-ass, grow a spine dude."
"I have one," he said, standing up and pushing his chair back. "I'm going to take your advice and go listen to some Maiden and then get to sleep so I don't look like death warmed over for my meeting with Vince."
"Yeah, don't want to look like you've been on an all-night bender."
"Whatever," Chris said, throwing down a couple bucks for his coffee. "See you in a while."
Chris pushed his hands into his pocket as he went out into the cold Pittsburgh air. He had been at a wrestling show here that night and he was still buzzed a little on the adrenaline from the match and the coffee he had just drank. He sunk his neck into his coat a little bit more, trying to ward off the cold until he got to his hotel. He was used to cold, growing up in Canada, but you never got so used to it that you were impervious to it completely. He just walked to his hotel blindly, wondering what his future was going to bring him.
He had no clue what was in store.
But the future was inconsequential to the present. And the present found him at his run-down hotel room, in a run-down hotel. He changed out of his clothes, pulling on a long t-shirt and some pajama pants, the room was freezing and he climbed under the covers, wiggling his toes, trying to get them warm. He reached towards the portable tape player on the nightstand and put the headphones on, calming down to the opening strains of Iron Maiden's "Where Eagles Dare."
The next day he took his flight to Connecticut, and he was so nervous that he didn't think the winter's cold was the one chilling him to the bone. The building loomed in front of him. Was it just him or was it totally and completely intimidating. He was wearing the only suit he owned and he knew that he was totally going to feel inferior when he stepped inside that building. But he was going to do it, he had to.
He walked inside and took a deep breath, going up to the receptionist in the very front and asking where Vince McMahon's office was. She directed him to the right bank of elevators and he thanked her graciously, totally aware that she was checking him out. He had gotten used to that over time. He knew he was a good-looking guy, at least not totally butt-ugly. He was used to getting cheered by females, had heard the screams for him at shows. But he wasn't the type of guy who went after the ring rats hanging around the show. He didn't want to catch anything.
The elevator showed up and he stepped onto it, pressing the "Door close" button, but then saw someone running for the elevator, a young girl, brown hair flying behind her, her dangly earrings clinking together. Chris tried to get the elevator to stop for her, but it was already on the way up. He felt kind of bad, but as the elevator went up, up, up, his stomach fell further and further down until he was on Vince McMahon's office floor. He stepped out nervously and adjusted his tie unconsciously. He walked up to the receptionist, another one, and smiled charmingly at the older woman.
"Hello, may I help you?" she asked kindly.
"Yeah, I had an appointment with Mr. McMahon. Chris Jericho."
"Oh yes," she smiled. "Go right on in."
"Right in?" Chris said. He thought he'd get to sit down for a few minutes and contemplate what he was going to say. She nodded and he gulped, and he thought she could hear him. He adjusted his tie again and walked into the office. Vince was sitting at his desk and he stood up to shake Chris's hand. Chris shook it as firmly as he could muster.
"Have a seat," Vince told him.
"Thanks," Chris said, his voice a little high as he cleared it.
"So, I've heard some great things about you, and I've gotten some tapes and talked to some people, and I have to say, you've got talent. Granted, you're still learning, but I see you going places Mr. Jericho."
"Chris," he interjected.
"Chris," Vince corrected himself. "But I wanted to grab you before you could be snatched up by anyone else. I think that we could have something here, and I think that you can really make it to the top."
"Wow, that's…thank you sir."
"Vince," he said. "I like to have a good repertoire with my talent. Anyways, I want to make this work, and I think that if we start you out on the ground floor, we can work you up in a positive way. The fans like you yes?"
"Yeah, I like to think they do."
"Good, we'll start you off as a face," Vince said. "Besides that, we'll discuss your-"
"Daddy!" came a slightly screechy voice. Seconds later, the girl he had seen from the elevator bounded into the office, totally ignoring him. "Daddy, I need to ask you something!"
"No Daddy, now," she demanded, not even realizing that Chris was standing there. He studied her a little closer, seeing the resemblance between her and Vince. She looked like her father. Her hair was pulled back now, probably because it had been getting in her face while she was running. There was a pair of sunglasses perched on her head.
"Princess, I'm busy."
"But Daddy, this is important," Stephanie told him. "My school is having this big play thing right? And I wanted to go, but Shane said that I had to go to some dinner with some of your boring, boring, BORING clients. Please don't make me go Daddy, please."
"Stephanie, I'm in a meeting."
"What?" Stephanie asked, glancing around and her eyes landing on the blonde man seated across from her father that she hadn't even noticed. She gasped a little as she looked at him. He was the most gorgeous guy she'd ever seen in her life and she lamented the fact that he had seen her as a whiny, little girl. Her father always said that first impressions were important and here she had made the worst one ever with a really cute guy. She mumbled, "Sorry."
"It's cool," Chris said smoothly. "I'd want to go to a play too."
Stephanie laughed a little bit. "I just…I'm really, really sorry Daddy, I didn't meant to, like, interrupt whatever this was, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Chris said. "You didn't scare me off from your dad's company."
Vince laughed. "We'll discuss the particulars later. Stephanie, you won't have to come to the dinner if you show Chris around Titan and get him acquainted with the building."
Vince expected her to protest, but Stephanie just smiled, "Deal Daddy."
"Cool," Chris said, standing up. "I'm Chris Jericho by the way. And you are…something McMahon."
"Stephanie," she told him, shaking his hand, and Chris was surprised that she would just go out there and shake it. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too Stephanie."
Chris and Stephanie walked out of the office and she silently gave a little squeal that she was next to such a hot guy. Chris just wanted to know his way around the building. Stephanie was a little girl to him, a young girl, and although she was pretty, she wasn't the type of pretty he was after. Stephanie though, she had developed a fast crush on the man beside her and she was determined to make a better first impression, and maybe make herself look better in his eyes.
Welcome to the WWF, Chris.