“Oh my God, it’s Brian Calvin!”

“Can I get your autograph, Brian? Please, just one!”

“Brian Calvin, I want you to have my baby!”

Brian pushed his way through the crowd that surrounded him, trying to be as polite as humanly possible to the mob that was starting to tear at his clothes and paw at his belongings, begging for a bit of attention (or a souvenir) from the United States AND Intercontinental Champion of the WWA. It was getting a bit difficult to maintain his state of mind, however, as he had spent the last five minutes making it a total of about twenty feet.

‘How do celebrities do this,’ he thought to himself.

Hired help was the answer, of course. Most celebrities had at least six or seven hired assistants surrounding them at all times in public places; they had people hired to dress them up in odd disguises, people to scout the area and find all of the backdoors and shortcuts, and people hired to just get the damn media and the fans off of their backs. But Brian Calvin didn’t have any assistants, however, because he had never known what it was to be this famous before. Not that he probably would have hired anybody to “protect” him anyway, but he still hadn’t known.

Brian had always had a solid fan base, and quite often he would walk through a mall or a restaurant with his family and have one or two people, generally teenagers, approach him for an autograph. This wasn’t a problem to him; he enjoyed the time he spent with the fans. But since he had joined the WWA, one of the longest running and most popular companies on television, his fame and popularity had skyrocketed enormously. It was getting to be so bad that Brian would often choose to remain at home while his family took a trip to the mall or the beach; having to sing autographs and pose for pictures every five minutes was getting tiresome.

But since winning the second two most prestigious titles at the Birthday Brawl, his fame and popularity had increased by two-hundred percent. No longer was it just one or two people asking him for autographs every couple of minutes, it was TEN or FIFTEEN people asking for autographs. And when a crowd decided to gather, as one had now, others noticed the crowd and joined in, wanting to see which star was out and about today. Brian knew that there was no way he was going to catch his plane unless he could find some way to get out of this airport lobby. He decided to try and be ‘nice’.

“Please, people! My plane leaves for Indiana in twenty minutes… Can I get through?” Brian adjusted the shoulder strap on his bag, switching it to the other side of his body. The crowd pretended not to hear him; in fact, more came to see what was going on.

“Just a couple of questions, Brian!” Someone yelled from the crowd. Brian strained to look for the sound of the voice; to his dismay, he saw that a cameraman and a media person had managed to find their way into the crowd. He looked for a way to escape through the crowd, but the mob had closed him in very well.

‘Damn it,’ he thought to himself. ‘Just what I need… A nosy reporter.’

He hated reporters.

The reporter made his way to the front of the circle, “Mr. Calvin, did you know that you are the first person in the WWA to ever hold the United States Title and the Intercontinental Title simultaneously?”

Brian sighed, nodding. “I am aware of that, thanks.” He moved forward a few feet, causing some fans to back away. “Excuse me, people… Coming through…”

The reporter wasn’t going to leave so quickly, however. “Mr. Calvin, there have also been rumors that the WWA is planning on having you unify your two titles together and eliminating one or the other, possibly even creating a new title entirely; can you verify this information?”

Brian turned, smiling. “I know just as much as you do, buddy. I haven’t talked to my bosses in a few days, I suppose I’ll know more after Mon--” He was interrupted by the squirmy looking reporter once more.

“Mr. Calvin, just a few more questions, please… We’ve heard some reports that after the Brawl you told some sources that you were ‘destined to be the next Nikodemous Seiger’… Can you elaborate on this quote?” The reporter smiled a big, fake, toothy smile.

‘What the hell?’ He thought.

“Where in the hell did you hear that from? I said no such thing, buddy. Now, for the last time, if you’ll excuse me, I have a flight to catch! Goodbye!” He began pushing his way through the crowd, not caring if he was being rude anymore; he was sick of dealing with these crackpot reporters and their made up stories.

“Brian! Just a minute, Mr. Calvin!” The reporter yelled after.

Brian kept going, not wanting to be hassled any longer.

“Mr. Calvin, are you aware that your opponent for this week’s match, Odium, was the man you eliminated to win the United States title during the Birthday Brawl last Monday?”

‘Oh my GOD…’ thought Brian, ‘can these questions get any more ridiculous? You’re damn right he knew it was Odium who he had eliminated to win the US title… And you’d better believe Odium knew that, too.’

He ignored the question.

“Mr. Calvin, a final question!” The reporter’s voice was fading as Brian got further and further away, and the man started to yell. “Did you know that your opponent, Odium, has promised a victory over you this week in your non-title match? How do you respond?”

This caused Brian to stop, and to turn. He strongly suspected that the statement was more made up jibberish, but it had ticked him off nonetheless.

“And you believe him?” He shouted back. “But how is that possible, if I may ask?” The crowd had become somewhat quiet, wanting to hear Brian speak.

Brian continued. “Let’s see… according to you folks, I’m the next Nik Seiger. I’m unbeatable; I’m a living legend. The only one whose ever held the United States Title and the Intercontinental Title at the same time before, right? So how in the world could a piece of scum like Odium, the man who I made cry like a baby at the Birthday Brawl, possibly get a win over me?” He raised his hands in question, but no one responded. He smiled, nodding.

“I didn’t think you’d have an answer for that one. Now, listen this, because this is the only statement that you’re going to be getting from me this week. I’m not Nikodemous Seiger. I don’t “promise victories” over opponents, and I’m not the greatest wrestler who ever walked the planet. I’m ‘Flyin’ Brian Calvin; simple as that. I don’t show how tough I am by shooting off my mouth to the media or the fans, telling them that I’m going to kick somebody’s ass that week. Maybe Dave Harley or Odium or somebody else does, and that’s why you’re accustomed to hearing that from professional wrestlers. But the way I show my toughness is by what I do in the ring. That’s how I got to where I am today, and I’m not going to change for you just because I have some gold around my waist now. That’s all I’ve got to say to you folks. If you’d like to hear the rest of my statement, tune into Meltdown this week and watch the Brian Calvin versus Odium match. If you don’t understand yet, I’m sure you will then. Goodbye.”

Brian hoisted the bag onto his opposite shoulder and headed towards his plane. The quieted crowd moved out of the way and made a path for Brian, not caring to try and block him in any longer.

The news reporter stood next to his cameraman, looking a little bit shocked. But this only lasted a minute, and he turned towards his cameraman. “That guy’s a lunatic. Come on, let’s go find out where Harley is! I heard he said he’s going to whoop the shit out of somebody this week! Let’s go see if we can get that on camera…”

The reporter and his cameraman rushed away and the crowd began to spread back out, and the scene fades to black…