Why is it that the phone will only ever start beeping away when I’m in the bath? I’m sure I could sit by it all day and I’d not even get one call. But, as soon as I strip down to my birthday suit and turn the hot water tap on, everyone decides it’s ‘national Chris Champion’ day. I’m the most popular guy in the world when I’m butt naked!

For more reasons than one too, but we’re straying off topic there.

“Hello? Chris? Hi, it’s Georgina,” she said, in a rather subdued kind of way. Women only talk like that when they want something or when they’re prepared to apologize. It had been a few years since I’d last heard a woman say sorry too – so forgive me for jumping to the conclusion that she wanted something. “Listen, I need to talk to you.”

Yup, I was right. She definitely wanted something.

“Oh?” I said, trying to buy a little more information out of her.

“Yeah, I need to apologize for being so blunt with you the other week. Remember? After your match with Trey?” she stated clearly. “I see you beat him again this week.”

Forgive me for not wanting to make small talk, but Georgina Valentine had never genuinely expressed a concern for my wrestling achievements before. In fact, she often accused me of spending too much time thinking about my job in comparison to our “relationship”. The whole conversation was loaded with more hidden meanings than a dinner time discussion at Steve Sharp’s house.

I wasn’t about to pussy foot about. I had a North American title match to prepare for... and, more importantly, my bath was going cold.

“Yes, Georgina, I beat Trey again,” I declared with a sigh. “You want to apologize to me? What do you expect that to achieve? You’ve moved on with your new man. You go live with your fucking author if it makes you feel any better. To be honest, I can do without the stress. So, go right on ahead and apologize. See how much difference it makes.”

One of those eerie pauses followed. It was uncomfortable. Stiff.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you felt so strongly,” she said, breaking the deadlock. “I was actually going to suggest we go out for a drink to talk about all this. I didn’t like the way our last conversation ended.”

“Neither did I, but then again – I didn’t really have a lot of say in the matter,” I said, making sure not to flat out shout at the girl… but making sure my voice boomed around and made her ears hurt just a little. “I’m going to hang this phone up right now, Georgina. Have a nice life.”

There I was, ready to shut the door on the one girl I’d actually cared for over the past few years. A part of me felt like an asshole for treating her with such contempt – but then again, she’d turned her back on me when I needed her the most. I held the receiver tightly to my ear as yet another pause crucified the atmosphere between us.

This was it. The final goodbye. Right?

“Chris, I’ve dumped Robert,” she stuttered with a faint cry. “All I ever wanted was to see us together… happy…”

My pupils widened. I’d expected an onslaught of insults, but the result was quite the opposite. Believe me, in that moment, I searched for the words to reply with great thought. However, nothing popped into my head. Despite my first class education and grade A in High school English class, I was speechless.

But she wasn’t.

“Goodbye.”

Dial tone. Fucking dial tone! I’m sure that annoying buzzing sound can be held accountable for around 30% of all break ups. I blamed the dial tone to the point where I wanted to throw the phone out of my window. Everything can be blamed on dial tone. Dial tone is responsible for the 3rd World debt, rabies, George Bush… Fucking EVERYTHING!

And that’s when I stopped. That’s when I realized why Georgina had already hung up on me.

I was always looking for someone else to blame. If it wasn’t Georgina – it’d be Pericolo, Trey or… even dial tone.

“Fuck.”

With a sigh, I tried to compose myself. I was signed to face Dylan O’Riley for the North American title in just a few short days… but I couldn’t even face the girl that I loved. Chris Champion, eh? What a hero.

That’s when it happened. Some kind of chemical gripped my body, pulled me down by the ear and kicked me in the head. A strange voice screamed at me, trying to kid me into believing that I had a conscience.

“Ring her you selfish bastard! There is still hope! Ring her!”

I couldn’t do it though. I was simply too proud.

I’m Chris Champion and I’m supposed to be a ruthless bad guy. I’m not supposed to break down and cry about my problems. Trey’s the emo boy of the company, after all. I had to remain strong.

Strong. Remain strong.

Strong. Mentally strong.

…

Ah, fuck it.

“Hi? Georgina? Yeah, it’s Chris again –"

And that’s when I realized that there’s no shame in asking for help.