The airplane cabin is filled with many types of people. Some enjoy the in-flight entertainment while others converse excitedly or nervously. Some others read while others sleep. The craft is at cruising altitudes so the mood is fairly calm for the moment. After all, most plane malfunctions tend to happen during takeoff or landing. Isaiah Elliott sits at a window seat staring out at the clouds. His mood seems somber as he gazes, neither afraid nor excited. His eyes dance from cloud to cloud as he ponders.
“I truly thought I had learned enough.”
His head does not move. He continues staring out the window as his chest rises and falls with a sigh.
“I thought I had seen enough, gauged Kimitsu accurately having seen her up close before. I had the fight. I had it…”
He shakes his head and grimaces.
“... And it was gone.”
He turns to face the camera.
“I’ve had time to think about it. I’ve wondered everything from whether or not I’m truly cut out for this to this being the trial I must overcome. Sure, I’ve said bold things about losing before but it’s different to assess it in theory and to actually… Feel. It. Sure, I lost at Guerrilla Warfare but it’s easy to disassociate when the fight is that impersonal. With that many people, it feels more like a crapshoot than a real fight. I let myself think that. I almost made it to the end and this early on, that felt like enough. Even when my wife…”
He winces at the word.
“Even when she expressed her discomfort watching that brutality, I still saw it as a necessary path to take. I wondered what I should tell her now, how I can justify continuing my pursuit of my dream.”
His face seems to harden as that last word passes his lips.
“Everyone loses. I’ve lost. But that will not stop me. I see now why this industry is the way it is, full of bravado and self-assurance. I’ve talked about winning and losing as if it didn’t matter which happened. I cannot do that any longer. I said before that I will learn with each loss and that hasn’t changed. This time, I’ve realized that I needn’t worry about the external forces but rather the internal. I scoffed at this idea that I’m just happy to be here, that I’m a tourist. But this last fight… It changed something. Am I going to give some grand speech about how special I am? No. That’s not for me to say. What I will say, however, is that I’m more focused now. It’s not just about having my chance. It’s about capitalizing on the chances I’m given. I’m not happy to be here anymore.”
His jaw clenches at the thought.
“Now, I care.”
His hands ball into slow fists, the whites on his knuckles showing through.
“Damon Xalvador is a tough fighter. I don’t question that one bit. While I don’t discount that, I believe that he’s in for the fight of his life. This isn’t just a “maybe I win, maybe I lose” situation anymore. This is going to be an example, to the rest of the roster and more importantly to myself, of who I am and what I’m capable of. When I contemplated whether or not I belong, I found out more about myself. You tend to find those things more when you fail than when you succeed. I found that I am no quitter. The thought of giving up and walking away made me sick with anger. On the upside, that was probably the best workout I’ve had in my life.”
His fist loosens as he closes his eyes.
“Damon will come ready to fight but is he ready to lose? I fully intend to be victorious at Lights Out. Sure, everyone says that but if you could feel what I feel in my heart, you’d know what this fight means to me. His stay here hasn’t been kind to him but it isn’t my responsibility to pity him or take it easy on him. His failures are not my fault. When July 7th arrives, it will be time for me to do the only thing I can do: add another blemish to his record. I’m not gloating or boasting. I’m simply stating what must be. This is my chance to shine. This is the beginning of the end for this season with Union Battleground. It’s time that I made stand beginning here and now.”
His eyes finally meet the camera.
“I’ll see you when I land, Damon. Be ready. I sure am.”
