Studio Session and IWW Live

I was crashing, hard. With zero clients coming in, I had turned back to GDPTV, hoping to make the most of a day that I’d step outside of my apartment for more than just a beer run. I reconnected with an old friend from elementary school, and as we caught up, we delved deep into our past and recent events. The topic of a high school friend and our shared history inevitably surfaced, and I couldn’t help but feel resentment toward this man I once considered a friend. His spiteful remarks about my alcoholism had tainted his image in my mind, reducing him to nothing more than an egotistical backstabber. Despite the bitterness, I pushed forward, focusing on my work and an upcoming IWW wrestling event. I made my way to Pirate Studios to collaborate on a track with my childhood buddy. But the stress and anger weighed heavily on me, and I succumbed to my old habits, downing at least 12 beers before heading to the IWW show that evening. I was in the crowd, screaming and filming for GDPTV, trying to forget the drama and enjoy the event. However, fate had other plans. A phone call from my female high school friend shattered my fragile illusion of normalcy. She was in tears, distraught over the twisted actions of our so-called friend. His manipulative lies had led to a report filed with the state, jeopardizing her ability to see her children. In a fit of rage, I left the show, my entire world consumed by anger and betrayal. As I stormed through the rain, I could feel the water pelting against my face, soaking through my clothes and dripping down my back. My shoes squelched with every step, and my hand gripped my phone tightly, knuckles white with fury. My friend’s tearful voice echoed in my head, replaying the pain she had expressed over and over again. The anger I felt surged through my veins as I walked, each raindrop stinging my skin like needles, but they did little to cool the fire that burned within me. My entire body shook as I tried to make sense of how someone I once respected could sink so low, as I continued on my path home, blinded by the rain and my own rage. Once I arrived, I didn’t hesitate to confront him on the phone, my voice filled with anger and disbelief. He tried to brush it off, spinning lies and fabricating stories. But I wouldn’t have it. “I don’t believe you!” I yelled, my wife and daughter watching in confusion and concern. What was I trying to achieve? Did I really think I could change the past or fix the damage that had already been done? As we hung up, I was left to reflect on my actions. I wondered if I had just made matters worse, and I couldn’t shake the guilt that consumed me. So, I retreated into my shell, a place where I could hide from the harsh realities of the world, hoping that the pain and turmoil would subside in time.