"Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" - Nirvana (piano instrumental)

In front of a white wall sat a limp body, looking down to a sight of his grievances and regrets. Staring back from that pool of sorrows were his personal demons, those that had haunted him since tragedy had first struck the man's life. Where could he go? It was a love of his community, love of his job that had kept him clean for so long. But a pessimistic AJ had never felt love from things most people would (peers, himself, family), and he had found it in material things. Cocaine, opiates, a fear of becoming irrelevant to something other than his bloodline. And to any viewer who had decided to give the "Suplex Shooter" another chance, they felt as if they were played like a fool. Regardless of who AJ Warner was on camera, the man behind the wrestling persona was a broken soul, apathetic and seemingly hopeless. Curiosity had killed the cat, and it was about to kill this man's aspirations of becoming a legend in this industry. Staring down blankly, Warner was holding his left bicep, his eyes unseen by the fans who had decided to distance themselves from one of their favorite competitors. Looking up to the camera, he had a single tear drop from his eye and roll down his cheek, although any other signs of guilt and depression were not seen except from the void in his eyes.

"For years, I have been giving you false promises. I've always wanted to become the face of this business... I always wanted to be compared to the guys I was striving to be like... but I don't deserve another chance here." AJ opened his mouth as if he was going to utter another word but he froze in place. How many more apologies could he make? He stopped and buried his head in intertwined fingers, breaking down in what was such a rare sight for the crowd to ever see. A nurse had walked behind the chair AJ was sitting in, pushing a cart with medications on them. She did not seem to acknowledge the wrestler who had seemed to have entered a state of shock. Everything he had wanted was no more a possibility it had seemed. He had raised his head and looked into the camera with a lost look. "It's good for the business that I leave. I have a dark past I wish I could explain... but I'm gonna..." AJ sniffled and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "I'm gonna fix my act. I've become so dependent on things out of my control... I never deserved your respect, regardless of how hard I tried. Do not induct me into any hall of fame or speak of me anymore. I loved this business, I loved the fans, and I especially loved every man that stood in that ring with me... I just obviously didn't love it enough. I'm so sorry."

AJ had buried his head in the palm of his hands. The camera had zoomed out ever so slowly. It had shown him in an empty lobby, sobbing to himself and visibly reaching his downfall, until it had left the building to read "Sutter-Edmonton Rehabilitation Center." It was here Warner would be; it was where he had belonged all this time.