My first attempt at writing a song/wrestling fan fiction.

I hope you like it, be gentle with me on this.

R&R? it's always good.

I own nothing, this is all fiction, none of this has happened.

I had a story banner, but won't let me post it.

Sad too, it was a pretty awesome banner.

Linger, Rot, and Decay

Just one more drink, and then go to bed.

One more drink, it's always that, just one drink, but does it ever stop there? No, one drink, turns to three, and three turns to five and before you know it, it's been ten shots of whatever I'm drinking, I have forgotten after the sixth shot. Anything to numb the mind of any thoughts, and numb all the feelings shooting through my body. All vanish, and forgotten, at least for that moment. Just for that one, single, glorious moment...

You stared at your glass as I emptied my head.

Numbing thoughts, use to be so much easier, now it seems that the thoughts never go away. The drinking use to work so well, but now it's just a daily thing I can't seem to control. Being one of the top superstar in the wrestling as it's perks, the parting, the women, countless of women at that, the fame, having people adore you, without even knowing you, it's amazing, doing something you love for a living, what could be better? But also the traveling, the time away from family, and hometown friends, the endless sleepless nights, takes it's toll on your emotions, as well as your mind. Sitting here dwelling on what should be the best time of my life as well as my career, yet I'm empty.

oh, this never felt like home

Feeling empty, is really loneliness isn't it? Being lonely on the road isn't uncommon, doesn't mean it doesn't get any easier, most people found voids, sleeping with anyone to feel the soft touch of another human, who ever it may be. Parting, till the sun breaks the dawn starting a new day. That's where drinking fits in it for me, I'm not proud of that I must turn to something that can destroy everything I've worked hard for, my career, my family, and most of all my well being. As long as I'm careful with this, no one will know right? As long as I don't get too drunk, and hide it well, it can be my secret. But the hiding was always the hardest part, not just the drinking, but hiding the black feeling that's holding on tight to you. Faking a smile, I've gotten so good, so good to the point, I should win an award, for the acting and the front I'm putting on for everyone. As long as everyone else is happy, does it matter? Yes it does...

Surrender or nothing, I'm giving my best.

I know I'm slipping up on this pretend game, I'm only thinking I have everyone fooled, but I know they know, that my drinking as gotten far worse, I just don't see what the problem is, actually I don't see a problem at all. They say my attitude is starting to change, cold and distant, what's what they say I've become, I don't think it's because of the drinking, I think I just stopped pretending to be happy, I had people fooled, but I surrender, to the feelings of sorrow, and surrendered to the only thing that can take me away for a while.

And if you're not happy Why do you stay?

Battling with myself, these inner demons, that control my every thought, my every action. This black hole I call feelings and life, is starting to swallow me whole. Staring at the dark brown liquid in my glass, I gently raise it to my thin lips, and let the liquid run down my throat, burning, down to my stomach. I've lost count of how many drinks I've had, ten?, fifth teen? who knows, sitting in the dark corner of the dimly lit hotel room, staring at the creamed colored walls, thoughts swirling around my head. How I wish they would stop. I put the empty glass on the desk next to me, my body feels light, I feel nothing. My eye lids are beginning to get heavy. I touch my cheek with my right hand, but the feeling is non existed. I try to get up off the chair, failing several times, till I finally, get on my feet, and stumble to my open window. It's a chilling night, for it being June. Looking down to the busy street of New York, how many stories am I up, sixth teen? Leaning on the ledge of the window, looking into the velvet sky, that's lit up with what seems angel eyes. Sighing, thinking, how could people judge me, and tell me how my attitude should be, and what I've become. How can people be so quick to know, who you really are? When they have no idea, of what you're going through.

No, they don't know Dave Batista. They only know, what I feel like showing them.

Taking a deep breath, I open the window wider, climbing on to the ledge of the building. Holding on tight to the rim of the window, looking down, at the cars passing by, the people walking, but as of that moment everything is still, frozen. Closing my heavy eye lids, I exhale the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I ever so gently, my fingers let go of the window, and I fall forward, falling.

Tonight you'll be brave.. It's all that I wanted

Waking up in a cold sweat, I looked over to my left, looking at the clock that read, 3:30 am. Taking short deep breaths, I try to calm my nerves and ease my mind. I rip the covers off my lower body and quickly walk to the bathroom, across of the hotel suite. Turning on the faucet, splashing some cold water on my tan face. I clutch the sides of the porcelain sink, taking a deep breath and exhaling. I slowly left my head, and stare at myself in the oval mirror, in front of me. Staring at my empty, lifeless eyes. Night after night, same dream, and every time it feels more real then before. Who would think a man who has everything could be unbelievably unhappy. I feel tears at the corner of my eyes. Looking at myself in the mirror again. I realize something as to give in. I just didn't know it would be me...

This record broke on its own...

Again my first, song fic, and wrestling fic. I hope it wasn't too bad, and too boring. I thought I would give a shot a writing a story.

The song is called Broken Record, by Scarling.