Alberto stood in the middle of the ring, frustrated. Had he just wasted his time trying to reason with Vince? He didn't become one of those emotional wrecks who started crying in the ring, was that really going to work? He held back any sign of sadness he might be giving. He dropped the mic, not caring. He took off his coat and held it. Exiting the ring, he left the coat on the floor. Alberto walked straight up the ramp and stopped at the top of the stage. He turned and looked at, not the crowd, but the arena. The ramp, the ring, the steps, everything. Guerrero couldn't help it. A single tear fell from his eye. He wanted no "Thank you Alberto's" nor a "Goodbye" chant from anyone. Before the crowd could even start. He left. Not just the arena, not just the center the show was being broadcasted at, but the state. The country, he was heading somewhere else. This was his chance to learn what he hadn't, whether he was gone for good or not. Who knew? Not him. #Unemployed
P.S. (OOC) ******** you Chandler, I hope you gets hit by a bus. Then who'd be the one who's really "out" ? Nah..
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