"Who The Fuck Are You!?"

10:06 p.m. - Kyoto, Japan - Omega Hotel

It had been five long agonizing months since Clyde T. Gastin enjoyed a decent meal. When Heather left his life she not only took away a piece of Clyde's very soul... She also took away his ability to enjoy a home cooked meal! For five months it had been takeout, TV Dinners and Ramen Noodles for Clyde, who was currently on a budget at the moment. Big spending was a nono, he couldn't afford to go out to a decent restaurant every night with the money he owed Chesna and the Hirameki Supermarket he nearly destroyed. Money was tight and after spending his cash on a night at a love hotel with a certain pink haired hottie and bottles of booze every night, he was barely going to manage to pay rent, if with the money AFW was providing him with.

Through all the recent troubles that had been plaguing the now screwed up life of Clyde T. Gastin, a beacon of happiness seem to find the depressed Cowboy unexpectedly on this quiet night in Kyoto, making Clyde an actual happy person (If only for a moment) when he discovered that the AFW was covering all expenses within the OMEGA Hotel for the entries in the OMEGA Hotel Tournament, which meant Booze and Food were completely Free It was enough to make the recently reinstated alcoholic cry in sheer joy as he read the pamphlet that was given to all tournament entries

Round 2 of this crazy hotel tournament had already started with one other match that had concluded earlier in the day. Clyde was expecting his match sometime tomorrow, but he didn't care for tonight he was to eat and drink like a king. And he did just that, nabbing a bottle of whiskey from the bar before he made his way to the Hotel Restaurant where he ordered himself a nice big juicy steak to dine on.

"...Lord have mercy..." Muttered Clyde as he admired the charred broiled medium well steak next with asparagus and a baked potato next to his bottle of Jack. All of it enough to make a starving Cowboy drool as he admired the tasty looking work of art before he pulled up his chair and grabbed his knife and fork, taking a moment to stare at his meal before he laughed triumphantly.

"HA HA HA HA!!! Wooooo!!! Ms. Garcia! Eat Yo Heart Out!" Clyde would exclaim loud and proud, shouting the name of his Educational Nemesis whom he banished from the hotel in the first round. He then took a swig of his whiskey and prepared to dine on his dinner when a 2 young Japanese women approached his table, one of them appearing to be holding an autograph book.

"Excuse me... Sir..." The one in front let out nervously to Clyde, who would stick his head up and look at her curiously.

"..Huh?" He let out bluntly, raising an eyebrow at the two, taking a moment to check them out before he saw what appeared to be an autograph book. Clyde then began to smirk. He never met a fan before.

"Y-You are Mister Clyde Gastin, right? Me and my friend were wondering if..." The girl would begin to say before Clyde instantly cut her off.

"Say no more, missy! Ol' Clyde T. Gastin is more than happy to give his fans an Autograph..." Clyde would say with a smug grin directed at the two young ladies who would just look at eachother and frown.

"...Uhh... Actually Mr. Gastin we're wondering if perhaps you knew where we could Higurashi Johnny?" The lead girl asked with a nervous yet cute smile while Clyde looked on in disappointment and disbelief.

"W-What!? W-Why the hell would I know where that dude is!? I ain't even know em!" Clyde shot back with some irritation.

"Well we just thought you might know where he is... The Lobby wont give us his room number so we can't meet him ourselves and you're the only other wrestler we've seen here!" She replied honestly.

"And what the hells wrong with me!?" Clyde demanded to know with an aggravated scowl. Why did he always seem to find himself in the shadow of people like the Higurashi's?

"Ah Well.... You're.... Uhmmm....... Well...." The Girl tried to say something that allowed her to tell the truth without being rude but before she could, her friend stepped in.

"You're not hot." The friend spat coldly and struck Clyde's esteem without mercy.

"Yeaaahhh.... I mean.... Well... You're not tall like Fredrik or Mamouru... Being short is kind of a downer and you don't have much of a body like Johnny... And then there's your hair... I don't mean to be rude or anything but you're kind of...." "Ugly." "Y-Yeah... Plus the Cowboy thing is really lame. You should be more like Johnny or Mamouru!" The two girls would say in front of a shocked and now fuming Clyde.

Clyde remembered how That girl Taylor had compared him to Johnny when they met. He remembered how the women in the crowd treated Fredrik when the two nearly fought. He remembered that feeling of inadequacy when Mamouru tried to show him up in front of his girl at time. Were the options of these girls shared on by Heather? Is that a reason why she left him for Cecilia? The money, the looks, the shared fame from these stupid fans... Maybe she was just supportive. Either way, Clyde hated it. He hated not being good enough. Not good enough for a stupid autograph, not good enough for that pink haired girl. Not good enough for Heather. He was sick of it.

Eventually the two girl's left and Clyde ate his steak and drank his whiskey along in a bitter manner, mulling over what the two had said, wondering if he would bother changing himself to appeal to others more, but the sheer thought of it only left him with disgust. Clyde went through that steak, along with the sides. The bottle of whiskey unfinished on the table before he left the dining area, grumbling angrily to himself as he staggered out of his char and wobbled out of the dining area to head back to his room.

"Stupid bitches... They....ain't know Sssssshhhhhit!" He slurred angrily before he fumbled with the key to his hotel room door that he stopped at, which would for some reason not take the key.

"Gah Dammit! This key Ain't workin!" Clyde declared loudly as he turned the knob on door roughly, unable to get the door open, ramming his shoulder into the door out of frustration before kicking it. "C'MON!!!" He let out angrily within the hallway, not caring who he disturbed, but also not realizing that he wasn't even at the right door.

Clyde just couldn't seem to get his key to go inside the keyhole to open the damn door to his room and was about 5 seconds from kicking it open when suddenly opened. Clyde then slowly lifted up his head and looked into the doorway to spot someone standing directly in front of him. A male shirtless. Even a drunken Clyde didn't take long to realize that some wet, shirtless dude was in his fucking room. His eyes shot open wide as he saw the male figure, he freaked out. Some dude was in his fucking room!

"THE FUCK!?!?" Clyde shouted in a hysterical manner over Johnny's words, jumping back from the doorway away from the muscular guy that had honestly freaked Clyde out. Was it a gay fan? Did people really think he swung that way!? Why would these be his only fans!? Why is a shirtless guy in his room!?! All these thoughts ran into Clyde's mind as he drunkenly stumbled away from the doorway and then brought his fists up, ready to fight.

"You Faggot-Ass Muthafucka! What the fuck you doin' in my room?!?!" Clyde shouted in a slurred manner behind his glaring red eyes, honestly ready to kick this dude's ass. But as Clyde stood there in his sloppy guard, he narrowed his eyes at the man and saw someone that looked rather familiar.

"....Hey...." He muttered curiously before he stuck his head out in odd manner to get a better look at the person. His eyes narrowing more when he realized who it was. Or so he thought.

"......Is that you, Higurashi?" Clyde asked. He seemed shorter and his hair wasn't the right color. Something had to be in the whiskey.

"Like hell it is! Maaaaaaannn... The hellzzz yo' Proof!?" Clyde would mock back to the sober sonovagun that stood between him, his TV and that comfy hotel bed that he was really craving right now. But alas he had to deal with some dang ol' Abercrombie and Fitch poster reject.

Upon closer inspection however Clyde felt he was able to recognize the Japanese kid that stood in front him. Mistaking Johnny for Mamouru, but when the Higurashi kid failed to recognize him, Clyde felt a little offended.

"Who the-!? Who am I!? WHO AM I!? Muthafucka I done chilled with you at your girl's house! ....She had a birthday party... I was there! You can't tell me don't fuckin' remember goddamn Clyde T. Gastin, the meanest, rootin' tootinst sonovabitch this side of the Mississippi! Who ALSO does NOT break into the rooms of other dudes... Know why!? 'CAUSE THIS IS MY ROOM, HIGURASHI! GET YA OWN!" Clyde shot back as he waved a finger in Johnny's face before he flopped down onto his back, arm still in the air as he fell onto the floor.

Clyde's arm would limply fall to the side as Johnny shoved it aside with his foot, unable to really hold up against the 'push' as he laid there and looked up Johnny with a slight scowl under his reddening eyes before he listened to what Johnny had to say with a mostly uncaring attitude.

His eyes would narrow the moment Johnny said they had never met before. Come to think of it, 'Mamouru' sounded a bit different than usual. Granted Clyde had really only talked with him about one or two times. The Higurashi kid claimed they never met and talked like he never met the Japanese kid's girlfriend. Clyde then realized he was dealing with the OTHER Higurashi kid. Taylor's Higurashi. The same damn Higurashi he kept having to having face comparisons with.

Nonetheless, Clyde grew angry with how the Higurashi kid was talking down to him and basically said he could kick his ass, telling the cowboy to get out like he owned the damn place. (Even though he did. His room at least.) This didn't go too well with Clyde as he clinched his fists tightly and turn over on his hands and knees to slowly force himself back up on his feet.

"...Alright alright.... Alright, Alright.... Oookay..." The Cowboy stammered out repeatedly as he crawled to the wall in the hallway and used that to support himself on his spaghetti legs.

"I see now... You ain't Mammy... You're Missterrr... Johnny Higurashi..!! Mr. Million Dolla Body...! Mr. Girl Gossip.... Christ... YA THINK YUR HOT SHIT DONT YA!? Openin' the damn door while you just conveniently shirtless so you can just Show off like ya own the place! I tell ya It'll be a cold day in hell before I let you kick my ass..." Clyde shot back as he slouched against the wall, digging his nails into it to try and keep himself standing up.

"...And Ya claim you'd shhhure as hell know if some rowdy sumbitch like me was anywhere 'round your girl... Too bad ya can't hold up to it... Guess you just got too busy with that other chick who started throwin' books at ya, huh? "