Nothing Special

The scene opens up in a gourmet cafe in Williamsburg, New York. There is an obscure performer in a corner of the cafe playing an acoustic guitar and singing what must be an original song. There aren’t too many customers in the place at this time, but one man in particular sticks out. He is near the center of the cafe, with a cameraman across from him. This man has a pair of yellow raybans on, accompanying a scruffy looking face. A red flannel scarf is draped around the mans neck and dangles down in the front. He also is wearing a “vintage” Pantera t-shirt and a pair of blue skinny jeans, topped off with black combat boots. This man is typing away on an Ipad when he suddenly looks up to the camera that’s practically stuck in his face; he removes his raybans and lets out an exasperated sigh. He grabs a hold of the ridiculously large “coffee” and takes a sip.

“Hello, my name is Bryan Blaze. It’s okay, you probably don’t know me. Perhaps soon you will, then again...perhaps not.”He is quick to add a wink to the camera.

“On the next edition of WWG Carnage I will be making my debut against science knows who. Probably some sorry schmuck who is so cliche and a zombie slave of the mainstream machine. Furthermore-”

Suddenly, Blaze is cut off by another customer.

“Dude...why do you have a cameraman in here? That’s homo.”

Blaze gives a sarcastic smirk. “I am conducting an interview, if you must know. Since I am someone of actual importance.”

“Ooooh! You’re important!” The other guy exclaims, sarcastically.

“You know what?” Blaze stands and get’s right in the guy’s face, but the snudy customer does not back down. He instead smirks back. “What?”

With every fibre of his being Blaze wants to shout as loud as possible. Shout “I’m Bryan Blaze! I was UWE’s last Triple Crown Champion, damnit! I was a Two-Time Crusierweight Champion!” But, he knows he cannot. If he truly wants to fit in with the Hipster crowd he is so vehemently trying to endear himself to, he cannot act in the manner to which he is accustomed. Instead, he backs off a step.

“Nevermind.” He quickly says, and grabs his iPad and is quickly out the door. Blaze is a former Crusierweight Champion, a former World Champion...but that is something he has to leave in the ring, now. He has chosen to be more soft spoken outside of the squared circle, but he clearly isn’t accustomed to it.

Once outside the cafe, he looks around. He looks around the streets of what has been dubbed the dubious distinction of the unofficial “Hipster Capital of the World”. This is the place Blaze now calls home, a stark contrast from his hometown of Sydney, Nova Scotia. As he looks around to all the various types of Hipster’s...he comes to the realization that he doesn’t really belong with any of them. He has never fit in, all his life. Whenever he tried, it was so transparently insincere that it always failed. He did not want that to happen again. It’s not really clear why Blaze even wants to follow this path, anyone from his past or perhaps even his present life...would be completely oblivious as to why, as well.

Blaze knows he isn’t there yet, but he wants to be so badly...he faked his way through the first interview, but the charade will fall through in due time if he doesn’t commit to this. He has to make some drastic changes, and he knows it.

After a few more minutes, he pulls out a white Iphone5 from his back pocket and dials a number.

“Yeah, Evelyn? Listen there’s something I really need to talk to you about.”