Wrestlemania played on the TV as I sat on the couch, my daughter snuggled up next to me. Sure, I was providing for my family, working 1099 jobs during the day and spending my nights at home with my wife and daughter, but something was missing. And I knew what it was. Alcohol. Every night, I would manage to drink a six-pack of beer, and the recycling bin would be overflowing with green bottles. I tried to justify my drinking by telling myself that I was providing for my family and being a good husband and father, but deep down, I knew it was just my weakness and addiction talking. In my free time, I would watch classic wrestling clips from the old days of WWE, immersing myself in the “Attitude Era.” I would talk to my daughter about the ins and outs of the squared circle, hoping that she would understand one day. And then, something happened. I was gifted an authentic WWE World Heavyweight Championship belt, and suddenly, everything changed. As I held the belt in my hands, I could feel the weight of it, both literally and figuratively. It was a symbol of everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever dreamed of. It was my chance to rise above my circumstances and become a world champion of the entertainment business. I would walk around the apartment wearing the gold, feeling like I still had it in me to achieve a huge “pop.” And even though I knew it was just a prop, just a piece of metal and leather, it meant so much more to me than that. It reminded me of the simplest times of my youth, long before I knew what the industry was. A time in my life where the magic of the spectacle remained pure, and I was completely unaware of the inner workings of the business. Now, with all the knowledge of everything I had learned during my time with Storm, I planned my return to entertainment.

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