“Next”
By Gerald Grayson
“Onto the next.”
The text message from my mom read. If you couldn’t tell by now, I’m really close with my mom. She’s my #1 cheerleader and part of the best support system a son can ever have. It’s funny to me that she tries to give me advice on my opponents. For example, if she sees a maneuver my opponent likes to do, she tells me to come up with a way to counter that, so I can surprise my opponent. Other times, she’d tell me something obvious like, “just beat them.” Just the other day, she was telling me to kill Jeremy Best with kindness. While that might be a viable strategy, my opponent wasn’t Jeremy Best, even then, killing Best with kidness might not 100% work. My opponent last week was Best’s tag team partner, Big Bryan Baxter - trying to kill Baxter with kindness was not the play. Regardless, my mom’s advice is a good reminder of the things I should be taking note of.
For Big Bryan Baxter, she reminded me that he'd throw everything at me, including the kitchen sink - and that’s exactly what he did. I didn’t account for the resilience Baxter showed. I didn’t do enough at the end and that’s why I lost the match. Baxter fought as if his life depended on it and I didn’t. That difference was enough to give Baxter the victory and put another L in the loss column for me. But like my mom’s text message read, “onto the next.”
— — —
Seattle, Washington, specifically Pacific Place, was where Thomas West and I were headed to to create content for the FWA social media accounts. Knowing West is a podcast savant and pairing him with me, who is likable enough to many fans, according to FWA management, they were confident we could get the job done. West was excited for the opportunity to showcase his skills and I was always down to do things for the fans. When we presented our task to the Nephews, no one was really itching to follow us - everyone except the Sane Wizard. Harry, being the eccentric person he is, insisted on following Thomas and I. No matter what excuse Thomas gave, Harry would retort annoyingly.
That’s when Thomas took Harry aside and talked to him privately. I’m not sure what Thomas told Harry, but Harry changed his tone quickly and understood why he couldn’t go on the trip. While Thomas was lecturing Harry, I saw Thomas pointing towards me, making me think Thomas had some hidden agenda for us to do. Whatever West’s intention was, I was about to find out.
— — —
It was a rainy Wednesday morning in Seattle, Washington. Thomas and I were in a van, headed to Pacific Place. I still didn’t know what the plan was. All I know is the location of the content shoot and Thomas telling me not to ask any questions. Probably against my better judgment, I did just that. On the way to Pacific Place, the drive was a quiet one as both Thomas and I elected to put our headphones on and be on our phones. However, as we neared the location, Thomas took his headphones off and looked at me with curiosity, prompting me to remove my headphones.
“Wassup?” I asked Thomas.
“Nothing much. I appreciate you following me on this trip and not asking questions,” he said politely. I don’t think this is all he wanted to say, but I humored him with small talk.
“No problem. You gave me enough details to determine that we won’t be doing anything illegal or unsafe. That’s all I can really ask for these days with the Nephews,”
“I know what you mean, Gerald,” Thomas said in response, smirking at the thought of the Nephews being normal for once.
“Chris Peacock next huh?” he questioned casually, looking outside of the car window, seeing the pouring rain.
“Yeah, tough one ahead of me, but I’m game,” I said, nodding my head.
“You better be,” Thomas said imperatively. I looked at Thomas, annoyed, but he was right. I needed to be on top of my game if I wanted to compete with Thomas. I simply nodded, not wanting to get into it with Thomas, ready to put my headphones back on.
“Wait, hold on,” Thomas halted me. “Are you okay?”
“What do you mean?” I turned my head, my eyebrows furrowing at the question.
“I know the way you get after a loss, especially a singles match loss,” Thomas said, leaning backwards in retreat, almost regretting that last part he said.
For some reason, a smirk was all I could muster in response. “I’m fine,” I said, giving Thomas a thumbs up before putting my headphones back on and putting my hoodie down.
I could tell Thomas wasn’t satisfied with my answer, but it was the answer he was going to get out of me at the moment.
I don’t like losing, but I don’t like losing singles matches even more. Just adds to the narrative that I will forever be known as a tag team competitor and that I could never make it on my own. That cloud has been over my head since I started tagging with Michelle and it doesn't look like it’s going anywhere anytime soon.
After about twenty minutes and a few sharp turns, we arrived at the parking garage of the Pacific Place. I removed my headphones, placing them in their respective case, then into my backpack. I looked to where Thomas was sitting - he wasn’t there. Worry started to come over me as I looked around, not noticing if he had already left or what. As soon as I stepped out of the van, Thomas was there, talking to a FWA rep, probably about the stuff we’d be doing.
“Are you good to go?” he asked, after talking with the FWA rep.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do this,” I said hesitantly, still unsure what lies ahead.
We made our way inside Pacific Place, where a myriad of people were making their way to various outlet stores this mall housed. There was a large atrium in the middle where the people of Seattle could meet up and served as the meeting point for the other crew members to meet us. The five-story building amused me for some reason. It’s not like I didn’t see big malls before, but this one seemed different. Every possible brand you could think of was here and it was busy with people - probably the reason Thomas wanted to be here.
Around us were a ton of FWA personnel - cameramen, linemen, reps, the whole she-bang. They moved like a well-oiled machine, every part moving like a gazelle in a meadow. When one walked right, the other followed suit. When one stopped, the other stopped as well. It gave me a newfound respect for people who work these jobs. It’s obviously tough, but they make it look easy.
“Right, you ready?” Thomas asked. A look of confusion came onto my face as I wiped my eyes not once, but twice. Thomas was dressed in a suit, befitting of James Bond himself.
“What’s with the outfit?” I questioned, knowing I was in black sweatpants, a black hoodie, and black crocs on my feet.
“It’s for the content, remember?” he said nonchalantly.
He took me by the arm and just like that, we were in front of the cameras. The lights blinded me for a few seconds before I acclimated to them. The cameras began rolling before this, so that part definitely needed to be edited out, or so I hope.
“Hello there FWA fans! I’m Thomas West, former FWA World Champion, podcast savant of the FWA, and your favorite Nephew!” he said with a big smile.
The camera swung to the left and focused on me next.
“Alongside me is fellow Nephew and currently one-half of the FWA Tag Team Champions - FWA’s resident Daredevil, Gerald Grayson!”
“Hi,” I said, waving to the cameras, putting on my best smile.
“We’re here in the jam-packed Pacific Place in Seattle, Washington where Gerald and I will be talking to random strangers and asking them questions. If they get our questions right, they win $100. Easy enough right?” Thomas was all smiles once more.
Oh, so that’s what we’re doing. I was expecting something crazier, but thank God that’s it. I wiped the sweat off my forehead at the relief of knowing what we’d be doing.
We walked for less than a minute, with many people giving us looks, curious at who we were as they moved out of the way with how big a crew was following us. We stumbled upon a young man, holding Target bags in each hand. He sported a combover haircut and was dressed in business casual - probably an early 20s intern at a big firm.
“Excuse me, sir. Can we have a moment of your time?” Thomas questioned the young man. He looked at the cameras nervously.
“If you get this question right, we’ll be giving you $100. Does that sound good?” Thomas waved the $100 bill around for the young man to see. The young man’s nervousness seemingly went away when he saw the $100 bill, nodding in response to Thomas’s question.
“Do you know this man?” Thomas asked the young man.
“What?” I immediately turned to Thomas. “What’re you doing?”
“This is part of the bit,” he whispered, before looking back at the young man.
“I don’t, sorry,” the young man said, looking at me apologetically. I waved my hands, letting him know it’s fine.
“That’s fine that you don’t know him,” Thomas paused. “If you had to guess what he did for a living, what would you say?”
“Uhm,” the young man paused, looking at me to get a better look.
I felt super uncomfortable with a random stranger analyzing me based on what he can see. This could be someone’s ultimate nightmare to be honest - to be judged without being able to defend yourself.
“From his stature, he looks like someone who works out, but his outfit is giving me technology, IT department vibes. You know, the whole work from home kind of thing. However, he’s wearing those Nike Zoom Pegasus’s and those are known to be some of Nike’s best running shoes, so it makes me think he’s a runner - a fast runner to be exact,” he paused once more to ponder his answer.
Hearing him analyze me was nerve-wracking, but what he was saying wasn’t close to bad. I was relieved to hear that part at least. This was just one person though. We’re bound to find someone who thinks I’m a bum - just look at how I’m dressed! I guess I brought this on myself by not asking Thomas what type of content we’d be shooting.
“You know what, I’m feeling generous. You’re right that he’s an athlete. Hell of an athlete actually,” Thomas emphasized, pointing at me for the camera to focus on. “He’s a professional wrestler for the FWA,”
“Professional wrestler? That’s sick!” the young man exclaimed.
“Right? Here’s your $100 dollars,” Thomas handed him the bill, as the young man’s eyes glowed even brighter.
“Like I was saying, this man is a professional wrestler, and a damn good one,” Thomas said, looking in my direction, as he saw the confused look on my face.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, shaking my head to signal him from stopping what he’s doing.
“He’s fast, he’s agile, he’s quick on his feet. He’s a hell of a tag team partner, having to deal with someone like Michelle von Horowitz,” he continued.
“Michelle von Horrowitz?” The young man questioned.
“Don’t even get me started on her, bud,” Thomas chimed in. That’s when my eyes grew wide and I motioned for Thomas to cut it out. Fortunately, he obliged.
“This man puts on a smile every day of the week even when he’s not feeling 100%. Sure, you can say it’s a facade, but I think it shows his strength. This man has the mental game needed to be in a tough business like the wrestling industry,”
“Hell yeah!” the young man threw a fist in the air in agreement.
“For those of you GG haters out there, listen here. I dare you to step into his shoes and see how you handle the pressure, the anxiety, and all the other things that come with this job. Not once has he lost himself. He continues to be not just a good person, but an even better friend,” Thomas said with confidence, before looking at me for approval.
I had no idea what to say.
I didn’t know Thomas felt this strongly about me, but it sure put a smile on my face hearing someone stand up for me. I’ve seen the chatter online from people who think I’m not good enough to be on my own, which isn’t new and isn’t something that gets to me easily. But recently, I’ve started to think they were right to think that way, which probably made way for Big Bryan Baxter to defeat me last week. I was in my own head too much and the loss is what I get as punishment.
Before I could scold Thomas, he went ahead of me as I dealt with the young man. This time, he stopped a young, blonde woman probably in her late 20s, dressed in a blue, matching Lululemon top and bottom. She had her airpods in as Thomas approached her.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Can we have a moment of your time?” Thomas questioned, as the young woman removed her airpods from her ears. Like the young man from earlier, she was bewildered at the camera crew following us.
“Right, so I have a question for you and if you get the answer correct, you win $100,” Thomas said enthusiastically, as I hurried to make myself presentable for this round. I removed my black hoodie, revealing a white Nike shirt underneath.
“Oooh,” the young woman said, on account of my undershirt revealing a bit of my abdomen.
“Sorry,” I apologized, looking nervous as ever.
“No need to apologize,” she retorted, smiling at me, making me even more nervous.
“Seems to be a connection here already. But anyway, the question is,” Thomas paused. “What do you think this man does for a living?” pointing at me, as he asked the young woman the question.
The young woman smiled at me again as I looked to the floor in shyness.
“Uhm, this is tough,” she said, pondering her answer. “He’s a businessman?”
“A businessman? Sort of, but not really,” Thomas informed her.
“Aww, really? What is he then?” her tone was not convinced she was wrong.
“He’s a professional wrestler,” Thomas said in response.
“Oh, is he?” she folded her hands, looking at me. “Maybe he can show me a few moves?”
My eyes grew wide. While the young woman was indeed attractive, I felt nothing but awkward meeting people through these circumstances. I laughed nervously as she waited for my response.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Maybe if you buy a ticket to our show, you’ll get to see this man perform.. Later!” Thomas said, waving for me and the entire crew to follow him. I heard the woman scoff, looking back at us with disdain.
“Thomas, dude. We’re not going to be doing this the whole day, are we?” I asked, futile in my attempt to get this whole thing called off.
“Excuse me, ma’am, sir,” Thomas halted an elderly couple next, who were surrounded with other family members, probably their daughter, her husband, and their kids.
“We’re going around Pacific Place asking random strangers random questions. If you get the answer to the question right, you win $100. Is that okay with you?” Thomas asked, making sure to speak clearly for the elderly couple and for their family around them not to think any funny business is going on.
“Sure, let's do it,” the elderly man in glasses responded.
“Awesome, here’s your question,” Thomas paused. “What do you think this man does for a living?
“This man, right here?” the elderly woman questioned.
“Yes, ma’am. That guy right there,”
The elderly couple looked at their family members for advice. But they were so thrown off by the camera crew that they couldn’t begin to make suggestions.
“Here, maybe this’ll help,” Thomas said, showing them a picture of myself.
Something about me in that photo screamed “first day on the job.” I don’t know if it was the goofy smile or the weird peace sign I was showing. I glanced at the photo and was surprised to see Thomas hand them a photo of me when I first joined the FWA in early 2020. That Gerald Grayson is different from the one that exists today.
“Is he some sort of fighter?” the elderly man said. I looked at Thomas, nodding my head because of how close that answer was to the truth.
“Why would you say he’s a fighter?” Thomas questioned the elderly man.
“In the photo you showed us, he looks to be in some type of gear attire, ready for a fight,” he paused. “Then you look at him here standing next to you, he’s got some height to him and a build that looks menacing to the average person,”
“Sir, you are correct! This man is a professional wrestler. We’ll take ‘fighter’ as a correct answer,” Thomas said, signaling the crew behind us. Suddenly, a burst of confetti fell from the poppers the crew let out. “Here’s your $100,”
Thomas handed the elderly man his prize, who responded by waving it around in front of his family, who in response were cheering for the elderly man. With the celebrations out of the way, the family thanked us and moved on. Just then, we noticed a crowd starting to form around us, probably looking to win $100 as well.
“Move along everyone, we’ll be back in a little bit,” Thomas informed the crowd, garnering some groans. “I think it’s a good time for a break,”
Immediately after, the cameras were shut off and everyone dispersed, taking their respective breaks. I was frozen in place, not sure what to make of the events that just transpired. Before long, I joined Thomas, who was sitting on a nearby bench, drinking a bottle of water.
“Hey,” I said, waving my hand like a dork, making things even more awkward.
“Hey dude,” Thomas responded casually.
“What you said back there,” I paused, biting the inside of my mouth, unsure how to continue that sentence.
“Yeah,” was all Thomas said, before a silence fell between us.
“Well, I appreciate it,” I said firmly, letting that statement sink in. For some reason, sweat started to form on my forehead, unsure what Thomas’s response would be. No response came from Thomas as awkward silence filled the air once more. Before things got even more awkward, I turned around to leave.
“It’s true, you know?” Thomas said, halting my exit. I looked at him with curiosity, before he began speaking once more. “What I said back there is 100% factual, Gerald. The hate you’re getting is unwarranted,”
“Is it unwarranted though?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve gotten my fair share of hate for being a media personality. What people say online can be quite nasty. I know shit like that can get to you. It got to me so many times, but I’ve worked too hard for them to put me down for good,” Thomas said, almost scolding me for believing the haters.
“Well, thank you for that. It’s been rough these last few weeks. Winning the tag titles with Michelle was huge, but since then, I feel like Michelle and I are further apart as a team more than ever. So I’ve got that on my mind,” I paused, letting out a big sigh.
“Whatever you and Michelle are going through, it’ll pass man. And you guys will figure it out like you always do,”
“This F1 Climax Tournament… I may bitten off more than I can chew,”
“What, you mean against Peacock? Man, fuck that guy,” Thomas said, scoffing at the thought of Peacock.
“Historically, the Nephews have had their wars with Peacock and have come out victorious most of the time. I don’t doubt your skills against Peacock, Gerald. You’ve just gotta focus up and beat the shit out of him. Easy. You get me?” the podcast savant said confidently.
“Yeah, I get you. But what if -”
“No what if’s, Gerald. Just remember the Nike slogan and just do it,” Thomas said, cutting me off.
He was right. Now more than ever, I need to focus on one thing at a time. When I’m in tag team action, I need to focus on that. When I’m in singles action, that needs to be my primary focus. My focus has been all over the place and if it continues to be this way, Chris Peacock will have no trouble beating me.
I nodded my head continuously then began bouncing on my feet in place. “C’mon Gerald, you got this!”
“Yes, you do!” Thomas joined in on hyping me up.
“You’re going to walk into Germany and walk out with a win against Peacock!” he exclaimed.
“I’m going to win!” I shouted, continuing to bounce on my feet and for some reason, shadow box the air.
“Say it again!”
“I’m going to win!” I said once more.
“Again!”
“I’m going to win!”
“You’re going to win!”
“I’m going to win! I’m going to win! I’m going to win!” I repeatedly shouted, before stopping to close my eyes and letting out some deep breaths.
“Hell yeah, you are, Gerald,” Thomas balled both his fists in front of me, waiting for me to double fist bump me. As soon as I opened my eyes, I did just that, nodding my head at the positive reinforcement Thomas has provided me.
“Are you ready to continue this shoot? I think interviewing one more person will be more than enough content, then we can move onto something else,” he said, assuring me the worst of this content shoot is almost over.
“Let’s do it,” I said, as the camera crew began to crowd around us, getting ready to continue the shoot.
Before long, we were on the move again. We walked through a crowd of people, ignoring them, or well, Thomas ignored them, while I just followed, waiting for Thomas to choose a person. The podcast savant stopped in place, rubbing his hands together, as a smile crept up on his face. I looked in the general direction he was looking in and spotted a young man on a bench stuffing himself with McDonald’s fries. Before I could do anything to stop him, Thomas was already in front of the red haired fella.
“Hi there,” he said, as the young man looked up from biting a piece of his McRib sandwich.
“Hi,” his eyes grew in size. “You’re -”
He paused, pointing at Thomas, obviously knowing who he was. He immediately grabbed a napkin and wiped the sauce on his mouth from the McRib sandwich. Upon further inspection, I see why Thomas chose this dude - he had a FWA shirt on! The shirt was a simple design - black with the white logo of FWA. The young man noticed me next after snapping back to reality from the trance he was in.
“You’re Gerald Grayson!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, I am,” I said with a smile, waving at him.
“What’s your name?” Thomas asked the young man.
“Lance,” the young man responded.
“Nice to meet you Lance,” Thomas shook hands with him. “And how old are you, Lance?”
“21,”
“Cool cool. What brings you to Pacific Place?” Thomas began his interview process and the young man seem oblivious to the camera crew right behind us, only more starry-eyed because of Thomas and I being right in front of him.
“I was going on a supply run for this event I have planned then I got hungry,”
“And you went with McDonald’s huh?” Thomas said, looking at the food on the table as he nodded his head. “Nice shirt,”
“Oh thank you!” Lance said, pointing to the logo then back at us.
“Yup, we work for the FWA,” Thomas said with his podcast voice.
“Fuck yeah, the Nephews!” he exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air. “Oh shit, sorry. Can I say that on camera?”
“You can say whatever you want. The Nephews believe in free speech!” Thomas replied, looking at me as I shrugged in response. Lance was all smiles too, knowing he hadn’t broken any rules.
“Alright, Lance. Thomas is going to ask you some questions and if you get them right, you win a prize. How’s that sound?” I asked him, garnering a glare from Thomas’s as I took over his hosting duties for just that moment. I took a step back and motioned for Thomas to resume his hosting duties, to which he nodded in agreement. “Let’s do it!”
“First question,” Thomas paused, motioning for a crew member to give him something. Lance was excited, leaning forward from his seat.
“Do you recognize this person?” Thomas pulled out a sizable headshot. I didn’t know whose face was in the photo until Lance answered.
“Yes, that’s Chris Peacock,” Lance said, examining the photo.
I looked at Thomas, not sure what his end goal was, but I remained curious. Just like Lance, I examined the photo of Chris Peacock. To be specific, the photo was of Peacock from when he first joined the FWA. He was smiling from ear to ear with that goofy mustache of his, pointing at the camera. This was probably his first roster picture.
I remember when he first joined the FWA, he came in with a lot of buzz because of how outlandish his personality was - and rightfully so. He placed on the podium when he participated in Ground Zero. Despite not securing a FWA contract, it was only a matter of time for when he’d eventually show up in the FWA.
He had not a care in the world, performing to the beat of his own drum. A disco enthusiast making it in the wrestling industry. What a happy person - or so you’d think.
“Very good,” Thomas nodded, motioning for a crew member to give him another photo. I spaced out on Lance’s answer, but he probably got it right.
“Do you recognize this person?” Thomas showed him.
“Yeah… that’s Chris Peacock. Sort of,” Lance hesitated for a moment.
Sort of? Why’d Lance say that? I looked at the same photo Lance was shown and immediately understood why. This was a very different Chris Peacock from the first photo. This Chris Peacock glared at the camera for this photo. He still had that same mustache, but it seemed more rugged and instead of enhancing his face, made him look older. You could see the lines on his face, probably from the chaos that he’s endured - multiple Cosmic Playground matches will do that to you.
The lines underneath his eyes were extremely telling. While the spots underneath his eyes weren’t necessarily dark, they were getting to the point where you could assume Peacock does not sleep or has trouble sleeping.
These are the only things we can see from the photo. In reality, Chris Peacock is a different man than he once was. Gone is the disco enthusiast who enjoyed putting smiles on the faces of the FWA fans. These days, Peacock only cares for himself alongside his buddy, Allen Price, who has only stuck with Peacock because of how much money Peacock makes for him. It’s truly a sad sight to see.
Peacock has had his ups and downs, so does everyone. It’s up to the person to react accordingly and decide whether they make it out okay or not. For Peacocks, I don’t think things are looking good. Things may have even gotten worse with Peacock when he won the Golden Opportunity briefcase. That kind of power has gone to his head and he’s crumbling under the pressure. Fearing the title of “choke artist” being used to label him, Peacock has gone to lengths I didn’t think he’d go to prevent that.
Peacock has lost the light in his feathers and instead has exchanged it for darkness in his heart. He has lost the person he used to be and is now chasing faux happiness in his pursuit of the FWA World Championship. It gets lonely at the top they say - that couldn’t be more apt for someone like Peacock. What did it cost Peacock, you may ask? Everything.
“How about this? Do you recognize this person?” I heard Thomas asking Lance, zoning out again.
“Yeah, that’s Gerald Grayson!” I continuously blinked before wiping my eyes, to make sure what I was hearing was correct.
“Correct. Now how about this photo?”
“That’s also Gerald Grayson!” Lance said quickly.
“Wow! You were quick to give an answer. Any reason for that?” Thomas asked Lance, who took a few moments to answer. He gathered the first photo of me and put the second photo of me side by side.
“I’m going to guess this is Gerald’s first photo taken in the FWA?” Lance said observingly.
“You’d be right,” Thomas nodded.
“And this is his photo right currently on the roster page on FWA.com, I’ve seen it,”
“That would also be correct,”
“It looks like Gerald hasn’t aged a day. And I know that’s a tough thing to do in your line of work, Mr. West,” he said, smiling at his observation.
“Not gonna lie, Gerald and Peacock are my two favorite superstars in the FWA. No offense, Mr. West,” Lance said, looking at Thomas and then me. “None taken,”
“I like Gerald for his high-flying moves and his non-stop, full octane offense he puts on display for the fans,” he paused, “But he also seems like a genuinely nice person. I follow the FWA religiously on Twitter and he’s in a lot of the charity events and backstage stuff. I feel like someone who’s that active for that type of content really enjoys it, rather than doing it for a paycheck,”
I smiled at Lance, bowing my head in acknowledgement.
“I liked Peacock for the same reasons. He came in as a disco star and seeing him do all those moves was crazy to me,” he paused. “Then it all changed when he started facing adversity,”
“Indeed he did. Tell us more,” Thomas told him as he looked at me. I motioned for Thomas to cut it out, but Lance obliged with Thomas’s request.
“When Peacock started facing adversity, he started to lose. Lose matches. Lose his sanity. Lose himself. That’s fine, I get it. No one likes to lose. I don’t like losing either,” he said, letting out a sigh. “But it continued even when he was winning. He started to lose more of himself as time went on. It sure doesn’t help that he’s still associating himself with that bozo, Allen Price,”
“Right, Allen Price is a bozo,” Thomas concurred, nodding his head.
“At any point, Peacock could’ve separated himself from Price, but he chose not to, and Price is just adding more fuel to the fire as Peacock continues to lose himself,"
"He has the Golden Opportunity briefcase now, which is both a blessing and a curse, I think. I can only imagine what will go down if Peacock cashes it in and loses. Dude’s going to lose it,” Lance said, staring blankly into the photos.
“And how about Gerald? You said he hasn’t aged a day. What makes you say that?” Thomas asked. Lance looked at Thomas as if he asked a stupid question, before staring back at the photos of me. He held them up side by side and showed it to the cameras.
“Take a look at this. Doesn’t he look the same? Same hair. Same smile. Same facial features. You can tell this dude is enjoying what he’s doing and it’s awesome to see. He hasn’t lost himself like Peacock. He probably even found himself in his journey in the FWA and because of that, it shows in his face,”
“Thanks Lance, I really appreciate that,” I said audibly as the cameras instantly focused on me. Realizing what I had done, I had to act fast and think of something to do.
“Right, let’s not get all sappy and emotional here. Lance, you’ve answered the questions that we gave you and more. Because of that, we’re hooking you up with $500 and I’ll personally provide you another $500 in gift certificates to McDonalds. How’s that sound?”
“Wait, really? Let’s go!!!” he jumped from his seat and ran towards me to give me a hug. “Thank you,”
“No, thank you, dude. You’ve helped me more than you know. If there’s anything else I can do for you, let me know,” I told him. He let go of the hug and looked at me.
“Well, there is one thing,” he said, pondering his answer. He asked me to get close as he whispered something into my ear. I smiled as he told me his request.
“Hell yeah! Let’s do it. Hold on for a moment,” I told him, as he sat back down on the bench.
“What’d he want?” Thomas asked.
“Hold on, let me talk to Mike,”
At this point, the cameras were shut off and the whole crew was looking at me to find out what was going on. I went to talk to Mike, who was the FWA representative accompanying Thomas and I at this event. I whispered in his ear what Lance told me and he replied saying it’s no problem. We shook hands and I went back to Lance, giving him the thumbs up.
“Thomas, get those cameras rolling on Lance and I here,” I told him, taking a seat next to Lance on the bench. Thomas instructed the camera crew to focus on Lance and I and counted us down in 3… 2… 1…
“Hello FWA universe! Gerald Grayson here and alongside me is my friend, Lance. We’re currently here Seattle, Washington at Pacific Place Malls to be exact. My friend, Lance here, has a very special announcement,” I said into the camera, handing the microphone over to Lance.
“Hello FWA universe! With the help of the Nephews, specifically Gerald Grayson and Thomas West, they’ve pledged to help us organize a Thanksgiving feast for the boys and girls club of Seattle. For more information, please contact your boys and girls club representative. We’ll see you on Thanksgiving Day! Thank you to the FWA and to the Nephews!” Lance announced, as the cameras stopped filming.
Everyone started clapping as they heard the announcement. I gave Lance another hug and so did Thomas surprisingly.
“You’re a good dude,” Thomas told me, patting me on the back. I nodded, thanking him for taking me on this content shoot with him.
“Hey Gerald,” Lance called for my attention. “Kick Peacock’s ass,”
“I will,” I said, nodding my head in agreement.
