FWA 'Back In Town' || Promo Thread

[The Golden One]

I’ll Never Have a Perfect Ending​

The invitation is clear. This is the spot. This is the location. This is where I am supposed to meet him. It doesn’t look like anywhere you’d want to have a formal first meeting, though. I mean … it is a cave. Literally … a cave. There are rocks stacked on top of one another with slivers of dirt in between – weeds of grass even growing from the dirt and in between the rocks in some spots.

It’s not very well kept together. It doesn’t look like anyone has given it care in decades. Maybe not in … about … 14 or 15 years, and the man standing before it couldn’t tell you exactly why that amount of time comes to mind. He couldn’t tell you.

But here he is – a saddened soul who lost his best friend only weeks ago – and searching for some sort of direction. He has a little bit of one, but that’s only due to the unselfishness of four new companions. They didn’t have to come join this man, XYZ, on my Magic School Bus, but they did.

They did, and there’s a thankfulness filling X’s heart.

But there are still questions and there’s still sadness. There’s still a longing for something to hold onto, and XYZ thinks the person behind this invitation – whoever they are – knows that.

But why did the invitation say to come here? Why this cave? Why a cave on an island in the middle of the ocean? And how did XYZ even get here? Does he remember?

My green cape tied around his neck flutters in the light breeze sliding by the cave opening. His curly hair distracts his eyesight for a moment, but a head and neck twist swoops the bangs back to the side.

“Should I go in?” XYZ mumbles under my breath. “Yes. Superheroes aren't scared! NOT OF ANYTHING!”

This charging-up of the energy and courage somehow works. XYZ usually can give himself courage, like a little kid trying to get himself psyched up to go inside a haunted house or watch a scary movie or go into school for the first day of the year.

A few steps forward brings XYZ from the light of day – light shining on a small island in the eastern side of the Pacific Ocean, near Hawaii – and into the darkness of the cave. It’s not a deep cave. There are maybe 10 yards of dirt before the back wall comes into view. The side walls of the cave’s interior are lit up enough from the sun’s light outside and shining through. The vermiculite rock and dirt crunching below his feet surely has asbestos in it.

Within a few seconds of taking in the scene, XYZ sees an unmistakable face leaning against the back wall.

“You came. I’m surprised.”

Sauce Man wears faded cargo shorts with a T-shirt with a big red tomato plastered on it. Otherwise, he looks nondescript, but everyone can identify that frail, skinny face.

“I always show up when asked. I always show up … when needed. That’s what heroes do.”

XYZ looks at Sauce Man from about a distance of 8 feet. He’s still leaning against the rock wall. XYZ stands upright.

“Did you ask me to come here?”

Sauce Man shakes his head at my question.

“He said, ‘I waaaant to staaaart a baaaand,’” Sauce Man says, trying his best to imitate the words of “The Rotten Gold” Devin Golden.

“A band?”

“A baaaand. He waaaants to staaaart a baaaand, but the woooorld won’t leeeet him staaaart a baaaand.”

“Why won’t the world let him start a band? This confuses me. This is a puzzle, and superheroes don't solve puzzles. Are you The Riddler? Call Batman.”

“Because he knoooows … that he can’t haaaave his peeeeerfect eeeeending.”

“I don’t know … why a band would … prevent him from …”

XYZ's response is interrupted by the impatient and impolite Sauce Man.

“He just knows. He has seen it all and done it all,” Sauce Man says, putting on ice his attempt to speak like Golden.

“What are you doing here then? Why would he ask for a hero and not be here to greet … a hero?”

“Because … well, I don’t know. He told me to come here, too.”

“Why’d he ask you to come? You’re not a superhero.”

“I AM A SUPERHERO! I AM SAUCE MAN!”

“Do you fight the darkness and carry the light of the stars?”

“No. I bring the sauce[/i] to the people. They need the sauce, and I deliver.”

“Doesn’t sound like an important superhero. It’s just sauce.”

“Whatever,” Sauce Man says, folding his arms across his chest. XYZ now notices Sauce Man is leaning on one of his legs and seems to be shaking the other one, showing signs of pain.

“He said I was … gooooing to plaaaay … the taaaambouriiiine,” Sauce Man says, bringing back the deranged speech.

“The tambourine? I do not know this instrument you speak of.”

“He said that’s aaaall I’m goooood for.”

While this seems like a putdown, Sauce Man is not offended. He smiles.

“I mean … I’m just a deliverer of sauce, not a musician.”

“What would I play?”

“He hasn’t … fiiiiigured that out. And it doooooesn’t matter, because sheeee never came. That’s why … heeee never … caaaame.”

“She? Who is she?”

“You know who.”

“No … no I don’t. Tell me now you Man of Sauce! Tell me now! We have a missing person situation!”

“Ha-haaaaaaaah!" Sauce Man shouts, again mimicking Golden. "He told me you'd be extravagant in your ... ways. Deep in your heart … you know who … because you and her … are the creations … of him.”

There's a mysterious aspect to this conversation. XYZ is pretty sure he knows who “he” is, but he’s not sure who “she” is. Even as a world-saving superhero and the person behind the name of XYZ that sends fear into the hearts of evil everywhere, he’s not a mind-reader.

Plus, XYZ is heartbroken, and he feels like Big Al would be a huge help figuring this out right now.

“Why’d the invitation say to come … alone? I have new friends. Sierra, Frank, Wild Jerry, and the guy with the video game. His name escapes me. Anyways, why couldn’t my posse come? My comrades?”

“He said ... it’d be … awkward.”

“Awkward? Why?”

Sauce Man simply shakes his head.

“Stop being coy! There’s a missing person.”

“Then go find him. But bring him back here. We have to start the band.”

As XYZ turns to leave the cave, he notices markings on one of the side walls. It’s cave markings written in English.

The first word is “Inches.” Then “a billboard outside an arena”. “Searching for the greatest promo ever”. “Is Boudreau really dead?” “Sunrise-Sunset”. “Civil war”. “Virtual reality in the Hall of Fame”. “The scrapbook”. “Visiting Matthew Robinson”. “Freaky Friday”. “Groundhog day”. “Goosebumps”. “Breaking Randy out of heaven with a musical”. “What If?” “An old man and his memories”.

And lastly, “I mean it when I say ‘Siempre’”.

There’s also no more room for any more carvings.

“What are these?”

“History.”

​

---

After XYZ mercifully leaves the cave, he scoots around the corner to his parked Magic School Bus. In this moment, as he casts his eyes on the beaten-down bus near the edge of a cliff, XYZ remembers that his new friends did not join him. XYZ does not go against requests or instructions, so he asked Sierra, Frank, the guy with the video game, and Wild Jerry to stay home – this time, at least.

Yet, when he enters the Magic School Bus, he is not alone.

XYZ quickly walks up the steps and towards the driver’s seat. He pretends to not notice the person sitting in the second seat behind the driver’s seat, but then XYZ quickly turns and lunges at the seated man while shouting.

“I CAST YOU TO THE EVIL LANDS OF MORDOR!”

XYZ’s attempt to tackle “The Rotten Gold” Devin Golden is futile, as the reigning FWA World Champion does what FWA World Champions don’t often do and smacks XYZ with his walking cane he does not need.

“I kneeeew … you would do thaaaat.”

XYZ holds his jaw.

“What do you want?”

“I want to go on one of your … adveeeentures … beeeefore I leeeeave this plaaaace.”

“Do I know you?”

“No. But I maaaade … you.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Why’d you invite me here?”

There’s no immediate answer. XYZ notices how Golden’s dressed: a black top hat sitting on his head; the black walking cane he doesn’t need to walk but apparently needs to smack people in the face; a black button-down collared shirt; and black slack pants with black dress shoes. This all goes with Golden’s 5 o’clock shadow.

“Why did you bring me there … in my state of sadness? With my broken heart? Why waste my time?”

“I waaaanted you to knoooow what you are liiiinked to. I waaaant you to seeeee it.”

“Those carvings? You wanted me to see that? I’m a busy superhero! I’m trying to bring the light of the stars to the …”

Golden interrupts me yet again.

“I waaaant to staaaart a baaaand … and I caaaan’t … because I haaaave to teeeeach. I always … haaaave … to teeeeach … someone … something.”

I want to ask about this band. Then I think to ask about Chris Peacock. But it’s like “The Rotten Gold” is reading my mind.

“Chris Peeeeacock … has been toooold … everything he neeeeeds … to be toooold. He will either evoooolve … or lose. If he evoooolves … if he leeeearns … then he will win. It is his tiiiime. It is his mooooment.

But soooometimes … people miiiiss their mooooments. Sooooometimes … people let their mooooments … pass them byyyy. Christoooopher did that … after the Wiiiinter Waaaasteland match. He haaaad a chaaaance. He haaaad … a mooooment.

So weeee … will seeeee … if he groooows … if he leeeearns.”

There’s a pause.

“This … is noooot aboooout … him.

It’s aboooout … meeeee.

I haaaad … a peeeerfeeeect … eeeeending. It was wriiiitten. It was ideeeeal.

But heeeere … I aaaam. Woooorld Chaaaampion. And … whaaaat moooore can be doooone or saaaaid?”

“Can you stop talking like that? This is taking too long and I have to leave to get back to earth.”

“We’re not on earth?”

“Oh, I forgot. It just doesn’t look like earth.”

“I’ve never left earth. Was hoping you’d take me somewhere. Can we go somewhere?”

“We’ll see.”

XYZ tries to move the conversation along to appease Golden, who doesn’t believe he’ll get his wish. That’s alright, though. It was a long shot.

“What is this perfect ending you seek? You’ve won.”

“A perfect ending isn’t a result of good versus evil. It is deeper than that.”

Golden stands up inside the Magic School Bus and twirls his cane within the narrow walkway between the rows of seats. He then rises from the seat and walks to the front of the Magic School Bus.

"I created ... this bus with ... a characteristic ... you may not have learned yet."

XYZ looks suspiciously at Golden as he sits in the driver's seat. He then points his right index finger to a tiny button positioned below the air conditioning knob, which is useless as the air conditioning is broken and has been for as long as X can remember.

"This button does ... what?"

"I've never touched it, because someone told me not to. I don't know who."

"Mmmm, right. Well ... better now than ever again."

When "The Rotten Gold" presses the button, the Magic School Bus begins to shake. It's a feature that XYZ has never experienced. Golden looks back at X and smiles. Suddenly, a sort of multicolored funnel appears in front of the bus and grows larger and larger with each moment, until the bus is consumed by this rainbow funnel.

"Let's go ... to 2013."

​

---

XYZ and "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden -- along with the Magic School Bus -- suddenly zoom through a multicolored black hole of sorts, without the body-crunching pressure. They then appear on the other side and right in the middle of the massive crowd inside of Fight Night. It's late June of the year 2013. "The Golden One" takes a DDT from Stu "The Snake" St. Clair and gets pinned, ending the FWA Tag Team Championship match between Sunrise-Sunset and Vodka & Venom. It ended up being a handicap match when Ryan Rondo was injured and could not compete.

"This was ... the first time ... I could've had a perfect ending."

Golden, still inside of an apparently invisible Magic School Bus, watches through the front window as the 10-years-ago version of himself takes a curtain call and raises his hands into the air, signaling the end of something."

Golden watches the moment with a sense of fondness. He sees a version of himself that isn't jaded or selfish or mean or any of the things Chris Peacock and others call him. When he hears these characterizations from people, it slightly pierces Golden -- or, it once pierced him. It doesn't anymore.

No more are the opinions of others worth anything to him. Ryan Rondo's characterizations of his selfishness used to boil his blood. It no longer does. Cyrus Truth's words used to irk him. The recent monologue about Golden worming his way into the World title picture like only a worm would ... no longer gets to him. And Chris Peacock's opinion of him ... matters nothing.

"This was the last match Sunrise-Sunset ever fought, and in some ways, I thought this would be the last match of my career. It would've been perfect. I finally got the tag team run I always wanted. I felt fulfilled. I felt complete, in a way. However ... I still knew that I was at the top of my game. I could beat anyone. Plus ... we were better than Vodka & Venom."

Golden looks down at the little button below the air conditioner knob and presses it again.

"2015."

​

---

This time, the Magic School Bus appears in one of the more historic events ever. It's the Trial By Fire Pay-Per-View, featuring Ryan Rondo and "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden. When Golden watches himself take the cutter from Rondo -- mercifully ending a dominating performance from the "Last Star in the Sky" -- his heart flutters. This is the first person for whom he was a teacher. This is the first time he felt this place -- this world living within all of our comatose minds -- called him to this calling, of being a teacher for others.

It's a calling he still upholds now, in 2023, on the eve of about to face Chris Peacock. When he re-watches this moment in 2015, he sees a version of a result of his teaching of Rondo. "The Last Star in the Sky" went on to unify the FWA World Championship and become the best in the entire world. He was the best.

“When I faced Ryan Rondo … in 2015 … that felt like the perfect ending. I ended a rivalry with my longtime rival and friend. I passed the torch. I called it a curtain in the way I felt was … perfect. Only it wasn’t perfect, because I left too early. I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t at the end of my rope. I wasn’t on the downswing. I had much more to give this place. This dream. This … coma world.

I had more story to tell. I wasn’t done here, and this place … this .. place … wasn’t done with me."

Golden presses the button once more.

​

---

"Where are we now?"

"2019."

It's a normal episode of Fight Night -- or so you'd think. Golden watches himself rise from the announcers table and enter the ring, which includes Cyrus Truth, Krash, Chris Kennedy, and Dave Sullivan all arguing about whether Cyrus and Krash should have a World Championship match.

Golden knows how this will end -- with a Bitter Sweet Chin Symphony from Kennedy and the inevitable return of Golden into his wrestling career.

"I still wanted the perfect ending. I returned here. I never planned to return, but I should've always known I would. I should've known I had something left, and all it took was one event. That's how ... weak it was."

Golden watches as the Bitter Sweet Chin Symphony connects with his chin -- sending the entire crowd into a frenzy of cheers, boos, and gasps. Golden looks back at this moment and wishes ...

it never happened. At least in a way. He wishes he never stepped back into the ring. He wishes he still had the perfect ending from 2015, because it's a perfect ending he is now chasing in 2023.

"Then ... from here on ... every moment … when I could have taken my final bow … after the Gang Stars beat Golden Rock … after Nova Diamond cashed in his briefcase … after Chris Peacock beat me at Back in Business … after Danny Toner defended the FWA World Championship by pinning me at the Anniversary Show … I felt there was a loose end. I felt there was something … itching at me. I felt it wasn’t quite perfect. … So I stayed. I kept looking for it."

Golden watches as the battle lines are drawn in the ring, leading to a 3-on-3 match that'd bring "The Golden One" out of retirement for a Back in Business match against a man who is no longer mentioned in the FWA. Golden defeated a stereotype, and now he's urging Chris Peacock not to be a stereotype himself. The world -- at least this world -- is circular, no matter how much you try to break free from the circle.

"And then I made a plan. I came back … one final time … for one final match. I would face Alyster Black in the Winter Wasteland match and that would be my ending. It would be emotional and painful and wrap everything up into a bow. It would have stakes far beyond and above my own ending, which just adds to my ending.

It was perfect.

But then …"

Golden pauses and smirks. He looks at XYZ, who is a few inches shorter than him. The Magic School Bus looks like it has trampled at least 50 people in their seats, but somehow it fits seamlessly and invisibly within the entire audience.

"Do I have to time travel us to the ending of that Fallout? I think we're good, right?

This world … is a funny place. I won. So … here I am. I’m thrilled to be World Champion, but I’m … feeling … a little bitter. I’m selfish. So now what?

I'm just searching for that perfect ending, and I'll never get it.”

"What if it ends at Back in Town? Would that be perfect?"

"It would not, but we don't get to choose our endings, do we?"

Golden presses the button one more time.

​

---

When the Magic School Bus passes through the multicolored funnel, they end back at the ledge of the Pacific Ocean island where they started. Golden stands up from the driver's seat and walks towards the exit door. XYZ watches him as the reigning FWA World Champion takes two steps down and puts his hand on the glass.

In XYZ's view, the best in the FWA right now seems small. He seems fragile. He seems vulnerable.

Golden turns back to look at XYZ.

"You'd think I'd have some power in choice, but this place ... keeps surprising you ... over and over and over. It never gets old. Maybe that's why I've stayed this long. Maybe that's why I am still here. I keep getting surprised, with twists and turns.

So I just have to accept ... that my ending won't be perfect. It's out of my hands. It's in Chris Peacock's hands. If he evolves, then I'm gone. If not, then it'll be someone else ... some other time."

“Keep winning. Win forever, right?”

“Win forever? Ha-HAAAAAAAAA!”

Golden smirks as he thinks about the suggestion.

“No one wins forever.”

XYZ doesn’t respond. Instead, he stays silent and just looks at Golden. It’s about 15 seconds of this silence, growing more awkward with each passing few seconds. Finally, Golden nods his head and walks towards the door.

When it opens, Golden steps out.

“No one lives forever, and there are no more spots on the cave.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I'll try, but I've cheated death enough times now that it's catching up to me eventually. And ... well ... I wanted to start a band ... before I left.”

"I don't even know how to play an instrument!"

Golden smirks and then even chuckles.

"I never wanted to start a band. I just wanted to teach ... someone ... anyone ... at least one more time."

XYZ nods, even though he still doesn’t quite know what Golden’s talking about.

"Why me then?"

"Because ... it matters what you do, so I wanted to teach you ... before I leave.

Maybe ... if anything more comes from me beating Alyster ... it's that I had time ... a little more time ... to have this with you."

The door opens for Golden and seconds later closes behind Golden, who disappears on this mysterious Pacific Ocean island and likely heads back to his cave. This leaves XYZ alone in the Magic School Bus with his thoughts and the fever-dream feeling of this entire experience, from Sauce Man in the cave to Golden in the bus.

“No one lives forever,” is what XYZ hears, except in his own voice, as he sits in the Magic School Bus chair, ready to fly off to wherever he’s needed next. In this moment, he thinks about the death of Big Al.

"No one lives forever," he mumbles to himself, "and no ending is perfect.

...

And that's OK. No ending is perfect, and that's OK."

XYZ oddly finds some comfort in this era of grief from this message, which is now drilled into his brain. He'll probably never see "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden again, but like any good-hearted superhero, he hopes Golden is satisfied with his ending -- whenever it comes.​

 

[Kim Jong Umb]

"Black & White"​

We open up inside a white limo. There is smoke filling the air. The lit cigar shining dim and a gravel voice coughs. The door opens up as the night star sky is overhead. The smoke comes out and Maxwell Lester comes out looking directly at you. He is speaking as if he was Ferris Buehler.


Maxwell Lester: Am I who you excepted?

He smiles and chuckles to himself closing the door behind him. He walks to the front of the limo. He takes another inhale of his cigar.


Maxwell Lester: Do you want some big heartfelt promo. The one where Kayden Knox battles with his inner demons and finally convinces himself he can do it, just so he can fail once again?

His eyebrow raises up. He takes another puff.

Maxwell Lester: You're not going to get it. Everyone want answers, Everyone is awaiting a response and they don't deserve shit. Mike Parr wants to act like Kayden's attack was some sort of big betrayal one that broke him down to his very core. It wasn't and honestly it really shouldn't have affected Mike really that much. How long was Mike in Executive Excellence for? It wasn't long enough to consider that there was any real relationship between the two. Mike though, he wants you to think that there is. Why? It is because Mike needs the limelight, he is grasping onto relevancy because he star has faded.

Maxwell Lester: Gasp.

He fakes a gasp; He takes his cigar flicks it to the ground. He has a very coy smile start to form.

Maxwell Lester: How can you say that Maxwell? How can you say a man that just main evented Back In Business two years in a row isn't relative? I can say that because it is the truth. Mike is a leech; I dare say Mr. Summers would agree with me on that. Mike is acting like what Kayden did to Gabrielle was a personal attack on himself when in reality; Mike is just pissed he got beaten to the punch.

Maxwell Lester starts to walk in the night and we are outside the arena. The FWA Pay Per View poster stares at him. The eyes of Devin Golden & Chris Peacock are center. Then we see MVH & Truth and way back in the corner there is Kayden Knox on one side and Mike Parr on the other. He keeps walking adjusting his jacket before talking to you once again.


Maxwell Lester: Mike Parr is a smart man, I give him that. He knew that a ticket to the top could be awaiting him if he aligned himself with Executive Excellence. A chance to get close to Danny Toner. A chance to clip the wings from Kayden Knox. A chance to better a once great superstar in Gabrielle Montgomery. You see men like Mike Parr; they live life by a code, a sort of set of rules.
They think that so long as they follow them, that they can live their lives in these shades of grey.

Maxwell looks on and his smile turns sour. He now instead is looking dissatisfied. He makes his way towards a bar. He walks in the place isn't exactly a top notch place. You could see a number of patrons eyes meet his, as he takes a seat and orders a drink. He sips it and tells the barkeep to leave the bottle. He turns his attention back to you swinging around in his seat. He scans the bar for a second. He could see some people playing pool, some dancing, and some just sitting silently.

Maxwell Lester: The world doesn't have shades of grey, the world is black and white. There are good guys, and then there are the guys willing to do whatever needs to be done. Mike wants to play the part of a hero, he will die a martyr. There are no saint's left in this world.

Maxwell says this and you can see someone pickpocket a server. You can see another steal someone's tip. The camera had panned away from Lester and when it goes back to him the barkeep asked him a question.

Barkeep: I guess you don't need another glass for your friend?

The camera pans to the front of bar but, the person he refers to has their back turned and can't see them as they walk off.

He turns his attention back to you.

Maxwell Lester: Patience in due time.

He changes the subject back to before.

Maxwell Lester: Kayden tried to do the very same thing and where did it leave him? He was left afflicted and trying to atone for actions out of his control. The once lethal Sin City Serpent, has been defanged and snipped right before your very eyes.

Maxwell leaves the cash and walks out. He notices that on his way back to the limo more posters for FWA are plastered on the telephone poles. He grabs one staring at it. He points to Mike Parr and speaks to you.

Maxwell Lester: The question does remain what will happen when the man does come back to town?

Maxwell laughs as he crumples it. He keep on walking down the street. His phone goes off and turns his attention to you.

Maxwell Lester: Do you mind? I have to take this. It's important.

The camera pans away and in the distance, a faint mirage of the limo appears. You could see it draw a little closer. Maxwell Lester voice is heard now again.

Maxwell Lester: So sorry about that. You know how it is with business. Now where was I?

The limo arrives; Kayden Knox appears in what looks like a cabby outfit. He holds the door open for Maxwell as he walks in. The door closes behind him.

Maxwell Lester: Did you do as I asked?

Kayden's face appears on the mirror staring at Maxwell Lester. He nods and Kayden starts to drive. Maxwell looks out the window they cross over a bridge. The bridge overlooks a body of water.

Maxwell Lester: We are going to jump off this merry go round Mike your just gonna end up like that very man under the depths and set to the very bottom ocean floor one way or another. I mean besides sometimes you have to sacrifice the pawn to get a win in the grand scheme of things.

He stares back up at Kayden. He reaches into his jacket but, a playing card falls from his sleeve. The card is a Ace and as the lights flash on by. Out from the shadows comes another hand. Maxwell chuckles.

Maxwell Lester: I guess you could say I got an ace up my sleeve.

There are two laughs now as we fade to black.

 

[Comeback Kid]

Shawn Summers in
A Stocke Market Story

"Please, Mothef***ers Ain't Stopping Me"​

He lays peacefully amongst the bags of garbage, spilled drinks, and rodents that call the alleyway home. The gold on her wrist would draw attention in the darkness if she didn't hide it under the sleeve of her jacket. It had become almost a habit of hers to follow him and live vicariously through his life and actions - using his story to bolster her own. She never thought that his story would lead her to these lows. Hiding in the shadows of an alleyway as he lay passed out, unable to handle the effects of the opium. She had been there for hours watching as he called out unfamiliar names and shifted from side to side but never regained consciousness.

Her arm, pale and skinny, slowly reached out from the darkness she shrouded herself in to reach out toward him. The gold around her wrist nearly illuminated the alleyway as she hovered her hand above his face. She wanted so desperately to touch him. This was her chance to feel close to his life, success, and enigmatic attraction. She was so close to him but forced to recoil as she heard hurried footsteps approaching their location. With her body pressed against the cold bricks of the building, she was able to blend into the shadows - she had become used to being invisible when others were around.

A man with youthful facial features, presumably in his early twenties, with blond hair and an athletic build, cursed as he approached the fallen man. She couldn't quite understand what he was saying, but she could assess that he was upset and annoyed. He lurched the man to a standing position and slowly carried him out of the alleyway. She scurried from her hiding place against the wall to one behind a beaten-up trashcan to continue watching. The man from the alleyway tried to push away from his savior, but he didn't have the strength to make an effort. As they approached a rowhouse and carefully made their way up the porch steps, the man and her briefly locked eyes. It was one of the many times she had seen his cold blue eyes and retreated. She held the gold around her wrist tight to her chest as the two men entered the house ending her voyeuristic obsession.

A jolt coursed through Shawn's body as the cold water stung his flesh like shards of glass. He looked around the room in bewilderment as he recoiled away from the water. He breathes heavily, his heart beats with great force at an excessive pace, and his eyes dart around the room trying to help him figure out where the hell he is. He focuses on the young man sitting with his elbows resting on his thighs and his face buried in his hands. The man takes a deep breath, removes his face from his hands, and locks eyes with the bewildered Shawn.

"How many more times, Shawn?" he asks with curtness as Shawn stumbles out of the shower. "How many more times am I going to pick you up out of alleyways and clean your wounds? Hmm? Can you answer that, Shawn? How many more times am I going to have to do this? Answer me!" he shouts as Shawn swats away at him with annoyance. It was like Deja Vu for Shawn. This whole moment. He had experienced it before and at this point, he was tired of it. Alex, his brother, was also tired of it. Shawn walked to leave the bathroom but found himself stumbling back into the room after a shoove from Alex. Shawn was taken aback at how weak he had become. A few months ago a shove from Alex wouldn't have sent him stumbling back onto his ass but the constant drinking and smoking of opium seemed to have finally caught up with him. Alex grabs Shawn, holding him down as he rips off his shirt and removes his pants and underwear throwing him back in the shower and pulling the curtain.

"You fucking stink," he says with disgust as Shawn reaches for the hot water nob and slowly adjusts it to regulate the temperature. The post-bender clarity shower had started to become almost a ritual for him these days. In these showers, he would make the vow to get himself clean again - a vow that he knew he wouldn't keep. He would tell himself that he didn't need the Stocke Market - another lie. He would tell himself that his name and the Summers Syndicate still held value and fear in this city - yet another lie and delusion he told himself.

In his room, he noticed that fresh clothes had been laid out for him on the bed - another piece of the post-bender ritual. He quickly changed into the black button-down shirt, black chinos, and undergarments and made his way downstairs to the kitchen where he knew Alex would be making his meal. A steak, medium rare, with parmesan french fries on the side. Though it was true that Alex had grown frustrated with Shawn's habitual drug usage, he knew that he had to take care of him. He was the only person that could take care of him at this point. Shawn had been abandoned by Noah and The Stocke Market, and Trevor wanted him dead. Shawn was alone. The only way he could escape from the thought that he had lost everything and everyone was by drinking until he blacked out or smoking opium to experience a sense of euphoria.

"So," Alex says with a long pause as Shawn eats. "Do you remember anything?" Shawn shakes his head no and continues eating. He never remembered anything when he had his benders cut short. He liked it that way. He didn't want to remember himself at his lowest. It sickened him to think of himself in the same position as those he used to look down on. "I've been trying to talk to some of your old contacts, but they don't want anything to do with you."

"Let me talk to them," Shawn says in between bites.
"They don't want to talk to you."
"They don't want to talk to YOU. They'll talk to me. I made them. They owe me. They don't know you."
"Are you still high? These people don't want to talk to you. No one wants to talk to you. I mean, have you seen yourself lately? You look like a fucking mess. No one wants to do business with you let alone be seen with you. You need to wake up and take a good look at yourself in the mirror."

Shawn sits in silence as Alex grabs the newspaper and leaves the room. Shawn finishes his food and makes his way back upstairs to his room - Alex's words unable to leave his head. Had he truly become as bad as Alex had made it sound? He took his brother's advice and took a look at himself in the mirror. The dark brown roots of his blond hair began to noticeably show, something he would have never allowed to happen before. His eyes had heavy dark circles under them and his skin was dry and covered in cuts and bruises.

He closes his eyes and starts to remember small parts of his latest bender. A man and a woman huddle near him as he smokes from the opium pipe. They attempt to smoke more than Shawn is willing to allow and a scuffle begins between Shawn and the man as the woman shrieks. The memory is fuzzy and fades away as he sees himself looking up at an imposing figure repeatedly punching him in the face. He can't quite make out who the man is but he notices a young woman trying to hide in the background. She looks familiar but he can't quite figure out where he knows her from. He thinks back to smoking with the man and the woman and remembers that the girl was there too, hiding in the shadows but she was there. He could remember that her wrist glowed with a familiar gold. He opened his eyes and checked the pocket of the pants that he wore when Alex found him. Nothing there. He pulls and throws items out of drawers but still isn't able to find anything.

"Alex!" he shouts to no response below. "ALEX! Alex come here!"

He hears the hurried footsteps of Alex coming up the stairs and waits for him to appear in the doorway. Alex looks around the thrown apar room and throws his hands up in frustration.

"Shawn, what the fuck, man? I just cleaned this place up and you just come in here and throw all of this shit around. It's like you have no respect for everything I do around here. You just come in and fuck everyth-"

"I'll clean it up," Shawn says interrupting Alex. "Where's my watch?!?!"
"Your watch?"
"YES! My fucking watch, Alex. Where is it?"
"Shawn, you lost that thing months ago."

Shawn stands with a puzzled look on his face. There's no way that he let months go by without that watch. Shawn snaps back to reality and finds a derby hat and an overcoat among the items thrown around the room. He motions for his brother to follow.

"Come on."
"Where the fuck are we going," Alex questions as Shawn takes off down the stairs toward the front door.
"We're going to find my fucking watch, Alex! We're going to find my watch."
"Shawn, that watch has been missing for months, why is it all of a sudden important"
"It's always been important, Alex," Shawn snaps at him. For the first time in a while Alex had seen Shawn as the man he was before. He didn't know why that watch was of importance now but he would soon enough.

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It had been almost six months since Commissioner Montroe's death but by the looks of the city streets, you would think that it had been years. Without Montroe's influence and keen sense for justice and reform the slums of the cities had become the home of addicts, dealers, vagrants, and people of that nature. Shawn and Alex made their way down the sidewalk and were propositioned multiple times by prostitutes. One had remembered Shawn and commented on how he had cleaned himself up from the last time that she saw him but they ignored her. Shawn couldn't believe that he had stooped to such a level that he would be remembered by or even talked to by these people. People that had no shame in fighting over the last bits of scraps that the city had to offer. These people that found joy in "garbage fighting" and were content with their place in the world. People that now saw him as an equal instead of someone that they had better think twice about crossing or even speaking to. It only took one small move and he had lost all of the respect and fear that he once commanded in this city.

"So, you think that someone down here can tell you where your watch is," Alex questioned as his and Shawn's appearance in the area drew looks from everyone around.
"I don't know," Shawn responds flatly causing Alex to stop in his tracks.
"Then what the hell are we doing down here? You brought me down here to carry your ass back home after you get another hit?"
Shawn turns and approaches his brother, grabbing him by his jacket sleeve and pulling him forward as if to say keep walking, kid. Alex snatches his sleeve out of Shawn's grip and continues following behind him.

"I can kind of see glimpses of the shit that happened this last time," Shawn says with embarrassment. "It's not fully clear but I remember that I was sitting in a building with a man and a woman. They tried to smoke my shit and I we got into a fight. The fight isn't the important part though. The important part is that before we got into it, I remember seeing a gir- no, a woman with my watch around her wrist."
"And you figure they'll know where she is?"
"Yeah. Something like that."

As they continued to where Shawn had encountered the man and woman Alex questioned him about how he ended up with the two but Shawn was too ashamed to admit that he didn't quite know. It wasn't hard to figure out though if you knew them.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

Randall aka Randy

The man, Randall (Randy), was one of the most known addicts in the city. He was dangerous when he needed a fix and wasn't afraid to get violent if he needed to be. At one point, Randy had found success in the city at one point when he managed to win a large sum in the lottery, but it was short-lived. Randy is an addict and always will be an addict and because of that he blew through all of his money and ended up back here in the bottoms of the city. Winning that lottery and having a small bit of notoriety was a high that Randy couldn't get out of his mind.

Penny

The woman, Penny, was like the Harley Quinn to Randy's Joker. Randy treated Penny exactly like a woman of her caliber deserved to be treated. She had no goals, no ambition, or anything. She only wanted to see him happy and would do anything to make it so. Because of this, Randy would degrade and abuse her when he couldn't get the drugs he craved. He'd prostitute her on the streets to get a few dollars and she was more than happy to do it. She was the lowest form of what a woman could be. She had potential but was okay with allowing it to go to waste to please Randy.

They entered one of the many abandoned buildings and the putrid smell of body odors mixed with fecal matter whoofed through their nostrils. Shawn would never admit it but the smell was familiar to him. He remembered it from the first time that he was here. The smell let him know that he was close to finding Randy and Penny. The steps creaked and bent as they traveled upwards in the building looking for the two. They would look into open doors and would see bodies strung all over the floor surrounded by trash, needles, and other paraphernalia. Occasionally they would find themselves staring at someone whose eyes were glazed over, a needle still stuck in the vein they had just shot into.

"They're like zombies," Alex comments as they move on from the room. Shawn doesn't respond. How could he? How could he comment on someone else's condition when just hours ago he was in the same state?

Shawn motions for Alex to keep following him as they slowly approach a room where Randy and Penny are seen sitting on the floor. Randy has his arm outstretched with a belt tied around his bicep. Penny, a needle in her hand, prepares to inject him with what can only be assumed to be heroin. Randy and Shawn lock eyes and for that brief moment, Randy isn't thinking about getting his next hit. His eyes widen and he kicks Penny away from him before shooting to his feet and taking off running through the abandoned apartment. Shawn chases after him hopping over Penny and stepping on the dropped needle and vial in the process. Randy tossses left-behind furniture and objects on the ground behind him as Shawn attempts to avoid them in his pursuit.

"Fucking cut this shit out, Randy!" Shawn shouts at him as he continues his pursuit. Randy runs into a room and attempts to close the door but Shawn shoulder blocks through it causing it to crash open. As the door opens, Randy lunges at Shawn and drives a knife into his bicep before baking up with a satisfied grin on his face. Shawn looks at the knife in his arm before looking back at Randy, and then returning his attention back to his arm.

"You fucking stabbed me?" he exclaims as Randy smiles but realizes that he's practically trapped in the room
"It’s what you deserve you fucking dick. We’re even. You beat my ass I had Darius beat your ass. We’re even.”
"What the fuck are you on about?

Randy laughs to himself as Shawn tries to piece together what it is he is talking about. Shawn looks around the room as the knife sticks out of his arm and the memories start to become clearer to him. It was this room where he was finishing up the last bit of opium that he had when Darius and Randy barged in and jumped him. "Cowards. Fucking pussys," he thought to himself as he continues to remember what happened. Randy had brought in Darius to jump him because Shawn beat his ass earlier and wouldn't share his opium. Shawn again looks over at Randy and sees his disgusting, dirty face. There should never be a moment where Shawn and him should ever have been in the same room let alone the same sentence. Randy's an addict. Addicted to the high that he'll never be able to get again. He rummages around like some type of bottom feeder looking for the scraps to be passed onto him while Shawn was a climber - inching his way closer and closer to the top until he absolutely owns this city.

Shawn looks over and sees that rat-faced bastard staring with a smirk and it's almost as if something triggered inside of him as he lunged forward with right-hand that connects with Randy's cheek followed by a left hook. Shawn pummels Randy with fast rights and lefts until he is in the fetal position causing Summers to rise to his feet and stomp him with all his force. Normally Shawn would've stopped but at this moment he was compelled to continue. As he stomped he couldn't help but see himself balled up trying to block the stomps. He hated what he saw. He would have continued had it not been for Alex coming in and pulling him off. Alex had never seen this type of rage from his brother and couldn't believe that he could do what he did to Randy. The sound of Penny screaming would be implanted in Alex's memory for the rest of his life. She had sounded as if she had witnessed a crime scene and you couldn't blame her for her reaction.

Shawn walked towards the door of the room but stopped as he started to remember more from his last time there. As he was getting jumped by Randy and Darius he could see the young woman watching with bated breath. As she watched him being assaulted she couldn't help but smile.

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"Look at them," Shawn says with disgust as he spits on the bench and points at two dark-skinned children distracting the shop clerk as another dark-skinned child stuffs items from the shelves into his backpack. "That's all they're good at."

"That's not cool, Shawn," Alex says with disappointment in his voice.
"It's the truth, Alex. These people have the same 24 hours in a day as we do and this is how they spend it. Stealing," Shawn says while pointing at the boys in the store. He points at an older dark-skinned man who is presumed homeless, holding a sign asking for money. "Begging for a handout" He points to a woman and a traffic officer arguing about a ticket he placed on her vehicle. "Complaining. This is what they do and then they like to complain that life isn't fair. For who? A bunch of people that can't be bothered to do the right thing, pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and taking responsibility for their actions. They're pathetic. And when you add drugs, alcohol, and children into the mix you get a bunch of people that don't deserve to be anywhere near me and my city."

Alex can't believe the words coming out of his brother's mouth. He spoke as if he were better than the people on the outskirts of the city. Shawn, Noah, and many people in the city do the exact same thing but because they call it organized crime it makes them better. The hypocrisy was almost too much for him to deal with but he followed Shawn as he made his way down the street. Deeper into the city Shawn's feelings and words against the people only get worse.

"Do you know why these people are willing to accept less in life? Hmm?" Shawn questions as Alex remains silent. He knows no matter what he says Shawn is going to make his point. "It's because they can't handle more. Why do you think they can't make it in the city? They talk about the disadvantages that they have but we know what the truth is. They can't handle what the city would give to them. It's a good thing that they're out here and we're up there."

Alex ignores Shawn's casual racism and continues to follow him until he stops in front of a building - a gym.

"I want you to wait out here, Alex," Shawn says as he starts to walk toward the gym's entrance.

"You sure?" Alex responds.
"Positive," he says as he opens the door. Inside the gym, Darius strikes at the punching bag with right and left hooks. He follows up with a knee to the midsection of the bag before returning to the alternating hooks and jabs. The sound of footsteps approaching intertwined with the sound of the bag swinging from right to left, front to back, drawing his attention.

"You know, you've got one hell of a right hook there, boy. I mean, I should know. You really gave it to me good with Randy didn't you, boy." Shawn says as he slowly begins to approach.
"Let me tell you something, you got one more time to call me 'boy'," Darius responds firmly as Summers continues to approach with a smirk on his face. Shawn tosses his hands up and laughs to himself as he slowly begins to circle Darius.
"Or what," he questions. "What are you going to do, Darius? Hmmm? You see, you're not dealing with the drugged-out Shawn Summers this time. No, you're dealing with Shawn Summers at his most dangerous. You're dealing with a Shawn Summers who has a point to prove." Darius stops punching the punching bag at laughs at Shawn who has stopped circling and stands opposite him.

"And what point do you have to prove, Shawn? Hmm? Ain't nobody scared of you. You think I won't beat yo ass like I did last time? I did that shit for money but this time I'll do it for free."

"That's what's wrong with you people. You're always lowballing yourselves when you could be making a profit. It's why you'll never make it in the city. You don't know your worth. You don't know what power you truly have...because you've never been tested. You get mad at me for calling you boy but you don't even know why I do it, do you?" Shawn questions as Darius stands with his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face.

"'Because you're a racist piece of shit. That would be my guess. Fuck all this talking, what do you want Summers?"

"Impatience, another one of you people's many flaws," Shawn answers back. "I want you to know that fucking with me is akin to fucking with a grown man. You and I both know that you're not ready for what comes with being a grown man like myself. You're still but a child living on the outskirts of my world. On your best day you got lucky but on every day besides that, you know that in this world you are at my mercy. I hold all the cards," Shawn says with a smirk. "I'm in control. I have the upper hand because I'm a man whose been here before and you're just a boy - fresh of your mama's tit just getting to know the things I've learned twice over."

Darius pushes the bag out of the way and strikes SHawn in the face followed by a knee to the stomach that sends him bellowing over in both pain and amusement. Darius yanks Shawn up to his feet and repeatedly strikes him in the face and the body as Shawn continues to laugh and not put up a fight. Darius launches Shawn across the room and throws up his hands as Shawn continues to smile and laugh to himself.

"What the fuck is your problem? Is something funny? Did I miss a joke or something?"

Shawn continues to laugh as he cuffs his to his ear as if he's listening for something.

"Do you hear that, Darius? Can you hear it? I think that's -" Shawn takes a moment and moves closer to the window to hear better before laughing and turning his attention to Darius. "Whoop whoop, it's da sound of d'Police," Shawn says in a mocking tone. "I wonder what they'll think when they see me a respectable member of society who simply came to take a look at his potential property and was ambushed by a squatter -" Shawn pauses and closes his eyes shaking his head and muttering 'I'm sorry' under his breath. "A big black squatter hopped up on illegal steroids. And let's not forget that he's possibly armed too," Shawn says as he lifts up the shoulder sleeve of his arm and digs into the knife wound that Randy had caused earlier.

"You motherfucker," Darius mutters as Shawn continues to laugh to himself and the sound of sirens gets louder and louder.

"You're a boy, Darius. You're trying to play the same games as men like me but you need to realize that on my playing field, you're always at a disadvantage. You start with a handicap and I start with points on the board. And we both know why. But, I'm not completely a monster - I'll let you get a little head start because trust me you'll want a head start. Go on, I'll hold them off for you."

Darius is seething with anger at Shawn but doesn't miss the opportunity to run out the backdoor of the gym before two officers crash through the front door. Shawn screams out in pain and rubs his eyes allowing for tears to well up and slowly stream down as they approach. Shawn points to the back door with fear and panic - breathing heavily and fumbling over his words.

"He, he, he stabbed me and then took off out the door. Please, he's got a knife. He could hurt someone else!" Shawn yells as the officers take off after Darius. Shawn waits for the officers to fully exit the building in pursuit of Darius before getting to his feet and cleaning himself off. He holds his right cheek as it still hurt from Darius' assault, but it was a price he was something he was willing to deal with. As Shawn exited the gym Alex ran toward him with concern and disbelief.

"What the hell happened in there, Shawn?" he questioned.
"Come on, we're going to get get my watch," Shawn responds as he walks away from the building.
"Wait, so your watch wasn't in there?"
"No. It never was."
"Then what the fuck was the point of coming down here?"
"WHY DOES IT MATTER, ALEX?" Shawn shouts at him as he turns around with his arms extended. "Why does it matter?!?! The watch wasn't here but I know where the watch is. I don't have a lot of time, Alex. I need that watch! You can ask questions or you can come with me, the choice is yours."

Shawn turns and starts walking towards a bus stop while Alex stands disheveled.

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She carefully adjusts the eye mask over her face so that it fits just right. She couldn't risk having her identity revealed or else it would cost her her job. The men of the club expected a certain type of woman and if they saw what she really looked like or what she was they wouldn't want her anymore.

Her eye mask was gold black with sparkles that shinned purple and had a gold trim that accentuated the many contours that it contained. This was an new mask that she had picked out. It matched the gold watch that she had grown accustomed to. She slowly removed the watch from her wrist and clasped it in her hands. The gold was cold against her flesh but it still managed to make her heart warm. She brought the watch up to her nose and sharply inhaled allowing the last remnants of his cologne waff her nostrils. Having the watch, his watch made her feel close to him. She wanted nothing more than to be close to him. She wanted him to notice her. She craved his attention almost as much as she craved the most intimate knowledge of his life.

It had been about four months since she first saw him when he stumbled into the club. She held herself back as the other girls surrounded him, bringing him the finest of opium that the club offered, doing anything for the money that he carelessly through around, and hoping that he would take them as his for the night. She was enamored with his presence. She obsessed over every drunken word that he slurred as he bored the girls with stories of his grandeur. Her heart fluttered each time he stumbled into the door of the bar. He came from a world that she could never understand a world that she would never fit into. To say that she wanted a piece of him and his life would be an understatement. She was obsessed.

Her obsession evolved into stalking when she began to follow him during her time away from the club. She would wait for hours outside of his home and follow him at a distance that was far enough not to draw attention. She wanted to fit into his world more than anything. She wanted to be part of his past almost as much as she wanted to be part of his future. She studied him and his friends to the point that she felt as though she were an expert on even the most foreign of inside jokes to her. She perked up whenever any of the girls brought him up. She tried to interject into their conversations but they shrugged her off.

He once sat alone in the club barely able to keep his eyes open after smoking the opium. None of the girls wanted to be near him as he had no more money - he was useless to them. This was her chance. She slowly approached him and timidly sat on his lap. Her body tingled as he instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist. She looked into his glazed-over eyes and wondered if she would ever have this chance again. She leaned in to kiss him on his lips but recoiled back as he slowly turned his head saying "no, no, no". She quickly jumped to her feet and wanted to retreat at the rejection, but she stopped. She wondered to herself when she would ever get another chance to be this close to him, this close to his world. She looked at the hand that was once cuffing her waist and notices the gold shine on his wrist. She lifted his hand and examined it. It was perfect. It was him - a piece of him that is. She had seen men in the same stupor that he was in at this time and knew he wouldn't remember. She quickly removed the watch from his wrist and sprinted for the door to the room. She turned back as he slumped over on his side dropping the pipe.​

As she clutched the watch within her grip she closed her eyes and could imagine him. She could trace the contours of his face and hear that low, confident tone of his voice that gave her butterflies. She bit her lip and slowly opened her eyes and felt a surge go through her entire body as she saw him, Shawn Summers, standing behind her in the mirror. She dared not turn to face him eye to eye.

"It's beautiful isn't it," he says in a calm hushed tone. "You don't have to hide it. You can show it off. That's what it was made for. To be shown off. 24Karrot gold. It catches your eye, doesn't it?" he says as he reaches down to grab her hands, lifting them up into view. He easily removes the watch from her grip and carefully places it on her wrist. "It's cold, isn't it? We have that in common I'm afraid. Do you know what this watch means to me? Hmmm? I'll tell you - it signifies the culmination of a journey that I embarked on many years ago. You see, my father was not my father. That sounds confusing but it's a little less confusing if you know me. I'm adopted. I was never supposed to be anything special and my father made sure I knew that every single day of my life. He would show me his watches that looked just like this and tell me that I would never earn something like this. Something that said you were somebody. Something that let everyone know that you were at the top of your game." Shawn chuckles to himself as he slowly runs his fingers up her arms toward her neck. "My father never saw the value in what I did. He wanted me to fail spectacularly. Every time I tried to get ahead there he was to push me back. That's why this watch means so much to me. The watch signifies my success" he says taking a moment to pause before continuing. "Despite him. This watch signifies that I am not a fraud. I earned this watch, and that's why I can't let you hold on to it any longer. I know you've been following me. The obsession you have with me is strong but not as strong as my obsession with you," he says as he slowly places his hand on her mask. She attempts to reach up to stop him from removing it but is too late as he yanks it off revealing her full face. She tries to look away but Shawn grabs her by her chin and forces her to stare at her reflection.

"You need to see this. Look at yourself in the mirror. Who is that pale-faced white girl staring back at you? Who is that? Who is that girl that you tried to hide away from the world, hmmm? An outcast in your own world so you thought it'd be interesting to play dress up as another culture. As if no one could tell that you were just a homely little white girl behind this mask," Shawn says with a chuckle as he holds the mask up with his right hand. "You thought that no one knew that you were a liar and a pretender? WE ALL KNEW! Why do you think none of the girls ever wanted to 'chat' with you? Hmmm? Why would they want to pal around with the white girl pretending to be one of them while never having to experience the bad that comes with it. Tell me, how often have you experienced racism since you started pretending to be Japanese? How many times have men tried to sleep with you just because you were exotic? Don't answer that, I already know. Zero," he says making a circle with his fingers.

"Tell me about your friends. Tell me about those girls that you have so many memories with and yet no one has ever seen them. Tell me about how hard you fought to get here. A bottom-of-the-barrel whore trying to take what she hasn't earned from men down on their luck? Tell me all about that, but first, tell me what about my life fascinated you so much? Was it the fact that my name is bigger than any accomplishment you could ever hope to have? Was it the fact that I'm the truest form of myself? I'm honest about who I am and what I've done while you are just pretending to be something your not. You can't handle the weight of having a watch like this, Samantha." She locks eyes with Shawn and he smiles as he notices the tears welling up in her eye ducts.

"I'm going to take back my watch, Samantha because you can't handle the responsibility, weight, or even the target that comes with having something like this. I'm doing you a favor. Get out of here. You don't belong with us in the city. You're a fraud, the lowest type of person. Go figure out who you are and what makes you interesting. Go make yourself desirable instead of just available. Go be the simple, boring, white girl that you are. I'll go be the man, the leader that I am. And let's hope that our paths never cross again."

Shawn places the watch on his wrist and firmly adjusts it with a smile. "It fits like it never left me," he says as he exits leaving Samantha alone with her thoughts, her masks, and the lies she'd created about herself in her head.

CAST​

Shawn Summers as Shawn Summers​

Alex Summers as Alex Summers​

Jason Randall as Randall (Randy)​

Penny as Penny​

Darius Wright as Darius Wright​

Vampyra as "Boring White Girl" Samantha​

​

 

[Wiseman]

Tales From The Reaper
Season I, Episode I

Prologue: The Return

You really thought I was gone, didn’t you? You thought that time has finally passed me by and there was no chance of me making it back inside the wrestling ring. It has been over a year since I have competed against anyone inside a wrestling ring. That doesn’t mean I have given up on doing it. It just means that I’ve been sitting back. Plotting and planning for that day when The Reaper would return to the hallowed halls of FWA and once again begin his journey to get to the top.

Sure, I know what you’re saying. You’re saying to yourself, “journey to get to the top”, is this old man out of his mind? Does he not remember the previous venture into FWA that he tried to “journey” through?

Sure, that’s a valid point. My first venture into the FWA was far from a successful one. I let my path get clouded by someone who I thought I could trust. By someone who I thought I needed to make amends with in order to clear my conscious of things that I have done in the past.

The old saying goes that blood is thicker than water. The only issue with that saying is that there are sometimes when that blood is polluted by darkness. Darkness that doesn’t allow a person to truly forgive and forget another person's past transgressions. What happens then is that person seethes with nothing but vitriol for you and wants nothing but to see you die like a dog. That is the life I gave myself during my previous venture into FWA. My son, who I thought wanted to make amends, really only wanted to see me suffer in the eye. That’s how I ended up where I am now.

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Act I: Lockdown
Location: State Correctional Institute of Phoenix
Montgomery County, Pennsylvania

Logan sits on the edge of his bottom bunk in the jail cell that he has been calling home for the last 180 days. He sits there, elbows on his thighs and his forehead leaning against his folded hands. Just then the noise of a key being put into the lock of the door and a bunch of keys being moved around can be heard. Then the door is swung open by one of the correctional officers.

Correctional Officer: Darwin, it’s your time to go.

Logan raises his head and looks over towards the door. He nods his head and gets up from his bunk.

Logan: So, what are the boys putting my chances of getting out of here today at, Mac?

Mac reaches behind him with one hand and motions for Logan to raise his hands with the other. Logan then lifts both his hands up towards Mac. From behind his back, Mac grabs his handcuffs and grabs Logan's forearm. He puts the cuffs on Logan's wrist and pulls it behind Logan, turning Logan around. Mac then reaches around the back of Logan for his other arm, pulling that one back and applying the handcuffs to the other wrist. Mac then takes control of the handcuffs, slightly pulling Logan out of the cell and into the cell block hallway. The two begin to make their way forward down the hall.

Mac: Let’s just say I’m in a win, win situation with you. I either make money off you for not getting paroled, or I get you out of my hair for good.

Mac laughs at his comment and Logan scoffs at Mac’s attempt at a joke.

Logan: Well at least I’ll be making someone happy either way.

As they walk down the hall they reach a single door. Mac pulls back on the handcuffs slightly to let Logan know this is the place.

Mac: This is your stop, Logan. Time to see if you get to breathe fresh air as a free man or not.

Mac then unlocks the handcuffs for a second and he turns Logan back around to face him. He then locks the handcuffs back up in front of Logan.

Logan: I really hope this is the last time I have your bad breath in my face. You really should ask this place for a better dental plan.

Mac gets a smile on his face with the jab from Logan. Mac reaches around Logan, turning the knob of the door and opening it for Logan to enter.

Mac: Well get in there and make sure you’re lips are ready to kiss a little ass.

As Logan steps into the parole hearing room another officer steps toward him and tells him to take a seat. With that Mac then shuts the door behind him.

A half-hour passes and then the door of the parole hearing room opens up. Standing there in the doorway is Logan Darwin. A nondescript look on his face. Mac walks up to him looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Then Mac breaks the silence.

Mac: Well where the hell am I taking you now?

Logan: You can take my free ass to get my things.

Mac gets a slight smile on his face at the answer from Logan.

Mac: Congrats, Logan. I don’t say this to many people locked up in here but this was never where you should have been.

Logan: Appreciate that, but I’ll have to disagree, my actions determined that I should have been locked up here just as much as the person in the cell next to me.

Mac: No matter, it’s good to see you make it out of here. Let’s go to get your stuff and get you that taxi home.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Act II: The Visitor
Location: Spyros Louis Olympic Stadium located in Athens, Greece

Logan makes his way to the backstage area of Fight Night as he spoke to the FWA crowd for a very long time. He walks through the hallways as a backstage producer makes his way up to him.

FWA Backstage Producer: That was great Mr. Darwin. Really had the crowd in an uproar out there.

Logan: Thanks Fletch. Haven’t done this in a pretty long time, had no idea if they even would have remembered who I was.

Fletch: Not a chance, I think everyone is just happy to see you no longer associating with that prick of a son of yours.

Logan: Yeah, it seems that choice should have been made way before I let him even try to convince me that he was in need of me in his life. Guess you really never can trust certain people no matter how much they try to convince you of that.

Then all of a sudden another FWA associate runs up to Logan and hands him a piece of paper. Logan grabs the paper from the associate and opens the folded piece of paper. Reading it over he looks back up at the associate with a questioning look.

Logan: This legit?

FWA Associate: Absolutely, straight from the boss’s office.

Logan again looks down at the piece of paper and scratches his cheek with a confused look on his face.

Logan: Fletch, who the hell are these people?

Fletch then makes his way over to Logan, and Logan shows him the piece of paper.

Fletch: They’re some of the newest signed talents in here. A pretty promising crop of individuals if I’m being honest.

Logan looks at the paper once more.

Logan: Princess Nova and Madison Gray. I’m gonna assume both of them are females?

Fletch shakes his head at Logan’s question. As Logan looks down at the paper once again he mutters to himself.

Logan: Mystery opponent, is this just something that the brainiacs in charge love to see infuriate the other people in the match? I’m back from a long ass hiatus, now an ex-con and now I’m expected to not only have a match with three other individuals but one that I have no idea how to prepare for. Nevertheless, guess it’s just best to focus on the other two opponents. Can’t really control anything but that.

So Princess Nova and Madison Gray, if they were signed to FWA I’m going to assume they can handle themselves in the ring at least. I guess I just really have to figure out how to get this old body into ring shape quickly enough to look like a damn bloated beanbag chair out there in the ring.

With those last few words, Logan folds up the piece of paper and makes his way down the hallway and leaving the arena to begin his training. ​

 

[The Gipper]

​

Welcome to Amber Tavern, a place you could call a dive bar but I believe that’s an insult to holes in the wall. To put it simply, It’s a lint trap for assorted low lives looking for some combination of violence and oblivion. Or at least that is Reagan’s impression as he walks in. The selection of top-shelf drinks on offer is easy to recite. There’s no top shelf, dumbass. Or hell there’s not much generally in the way of decor for that matter. A sufficiency of bar stools, and a tombstone radio squawking on the sideboard, I didn’t know tombstone radios were still a thing. Not so much a watering hole as it is a flea-bitten menagerie of malfunctioning passions. Again from Reagan’s point of view, if FWA said any of this on live tv, the many crime bosses who employ from this club would take issue. Reagan is clearly a bit out of his element here and he sure does look out of the park wearing his signature jacket as well as a Henry Cavill Superman shirt, maybe a hint to the fact that he is being forced to be someone he isn’t, YEAH YOU HEARD ME SNYDER FANS, but whatever it may hint at, it sticks out like a sore thumb. Reagan brushes past a towering man with one Buctooth, very scary indeed but Cole pays no thought as he walks to the far end finding a corner booth where the Deathmatch God is sitting, finishing a tall glass mug of beer. Next to him sits TYLER, a smile on his face as he entertains himself with a small device, desperately trying to get the small ball through the maze into the middle, it’s a complicated mess.​

Jeffry Mason: “Well look who the fuck finally decided to show up. Have a seat, Reagan. I know you’ve probably got a lot on your mind.”
​

Reagan just simply rolls his eyes with a slight shake of his head as he sits down in the left side of the booth. Reagan and Jeffry are opposite to each other with good old TYLER in the middle. Symbolism.​

Reagan Cole: “…don’t really know where to go first exactly. Might as well start with the basics, why did you want me here?”

Jeffry: “We’re basically family now, and we haven’t even hung out yet. We’ve got some exciting stuff going on for all three of us. But first, let’s drink. Don’t worry, it’s on me.”
​

Jeffry calls over a waitress. The younger dark-haired woman is mildly attractive, but is clearly very stressed from this job. Mason beckons her down and he whispers an order in the woman’s ear. She gives him a stern look, as if to ask “are you serious?”, but he just smiles and nods and the woman just sighs as she returns to the back to get the order. Reagan watches the waitress obviously concerned about what the hell Jeffry has just ordered him. ​

Jeffry: “I hope you haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Anyway, what shall we cover first?”

Reagan: “Why did you want me to go after Trixie? You could have chosen any person on Peacock’s team to decide to play your stupid little mind games with, hell Tommy was there, we have a history, and he has a few anger issues to him, perfect candidate to piss off if Kleio hadn’t done it herself so why the hell am I fighting Trixie?”

Jeffry: “It’s all part of the plan, Reagan.”

Reagan: “Oh piss off.”

Jeffry: “Well maybe once you quit acting like a moody teenager and are actually willing to listen to someone who has actually done something in this business, I can start letting you in on the “why’s” and “how’s” of the plans. But until then, all you get are the orders. And speaking of orders, it looks like ours has just arrived!”​

The waitress returns, expertly carrying a tray with three tall cloudy drinks. She places the odd-looking drinks in front of each of them, along with spoons. Jeffry immediately stirs his drink and takes a big gulp. Reagan can’t help but to stare at his with a puzzled and disgusted look on his face. TYLER pulls his towards him, but pushes it back and folds his arms, disappointed.​

Jeffry: “I think he wanted his extra creamy.”
​

The waitress rolls her eyes and pulls a can from her apron, then swirls the whipped cream on top of TYLER’s drink. She puts a cherry on top as well, though there’s really no telling where this came from. TYLER’s eyes light up and he immediately begins stirring this drink, eagerly waiting for the ok to drink up.​

Jeffry: “Thank you, uh, what was your name? Heather, right? Well thank you Heather, you’ve done an excellent job.”
​

He passes her a $100 bill from the US, and her mood immediately changes. She giddily walks away a slightly richer woman.​

Jeffry: “Alright boys, drink up and we’ll start talking business for real.”
​

Reagan continues to just stare at his drink, pondering what kind of madness he has gotten himself into.​

Reagan: “What the fuck even is this? And what does any of this have to do with these plans you keep talking about?”

Jeffry: “This, my friend, is the breakfast of champions. Guinness and Rice Krispies!”

TYLER: “Beerios.”
​

Reagan is almost caught off guard by TYLER speaking for the first time in the conversation and also that he’s so used to his friend ending most words in O that hearing it but not quite may have fucked with him a bit as he remembers who TYLER was before all of this. Probably part of the reason why Reagan is currently avoiding all eye contact with his former fellow tag team champion​

Jeffry: “Hahaha, yes, that’s how it started. But we quickly realized that Rice Krispies were a much better combo with beer than Cheerios. The name kinda stuck though, didn’t it TY?”
​

Jeffry and TYLER share a brief laugh before the new protege goes back to his drink…er, breakfast I guess. Meanwhile uncomfortable is definitely a word to describe Reagan’s mood currently, this all feels so off, so wrong. Ughhh.​

Jeffry: “Anyway, don’t knock it til you try it, Reagan. I’m sure you didn’t think you’d enjoy fighting in a deathmatch, either, but you seemed to have quite a bit of fun kicking my ass, didn’t you?”

Reagan: “You forced me into that situation, you know that. “

Jeffry: “And you thinking like that is exactly why you get left out of the planning that TYLER and I do. You see, Reagan, I didn’t force you to do anything. Nothing you didn’t already want to do, at least. Because deep down, you still resent me for shutting down NGW the way I did. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about some of the things you’d do to me if you ever saw me again. But much like now, you just couldn’t see the big picture. Did you know that Walter Graham had run the company into the ground financially to the point that it would have gone under in a couple of months anyway? No, you didn’t.”
​

Reagan’s stomach turns a little, partially from looking at the murky beverage on the table, partially from hearing what his nemesis is telling him. Also, we’ll just put the apology for any newbies here, there’s a lot of shit here you probably don’t understand. Just go with the flow.​

Jeffry: “And I’m sure you thought that my wife and I actually hated each other, and FNW was really her little scheme to get revenge on me. Wrong again. That was the plan that WE came up with to make sure all the talented ones who were losing their jobs in NGW would still get to shine in some kind of spotlight. We did that for YOU, Reagan, and we did it the way we did so that we could put my name as far away from that spotlight as possible.”
​

Jeffry pauses for a moment and speaks in a slightly somber tone.​

Jeffry: “The only reason that plan didn’t work is because Lucy getting into that wreck was never part of it. Do you know what it’s like, Reagan, to get woken up in the middle of the night to answer your phone and hear that your wife and daughter were hit by a truck? That they probably won’t make it through the night, and you can’t see them because you’re halfway around the world meeting with fucking venues?”

Reagan: “I-“

Jeffry: “No, you don’t. Right now, Sarah and Jason are safe and sound at home. And I honestly hope that it stays that way, that you never have to know what any of that feels like. Because let me tell you, seeing the way you’ve handled family stuff so far, you won’t ever recover from it.”
​

Reagan hangs his head slightly, unsure of how to take any of this. Unsure whether this is some other kind of mind game. Jeffry is the master of those, after all. But this feels… real.​

Jeffry: “So look, dude. You can hate me and play this reluctant card all you want, but at the end of the day, we both know you’re gonna follow whatever plan I come up with. You’ve got a shot to do what I didn’t get to. You get to bring back someone you love. When this is all said and done, you get to have your best friend back. You get to go back to Sarah and Jason, and you get to bring TYLER with you and you get to be the hero who saved him from being brainwashed or cursed or whatever it is you think I did to him. And if all goes according to plan, you’ll both be more successful in wrestling than ever, while I get to take my shitty knee and fade into the obscurity of retirement all alone, a dead wife, a dead daughter, and another daughter who will probably never speak to me again. The only question now is whether you’re gonna cooperate and help me to help you, or whether I have to keep leading you into these plans blindly.”
​

Reagan is absolutely speechless. After everything Jeffry has put him through, could he really be starting to feel sympathy for the devil? He feels kinda overwhelmed by all of this information all at once not gonna lie but God damn. The more Reagan thinks about it, the more certain cogs fall into perfect place. The Gibson Gym attack where Jeffry attacked Roy and Xavier, how it weirdly connects and don’t get Reagan wrong, that attack was sick and twisted. But relating to Jeffry's grief, it could have been so much worse in a way, Reagan at least still had Sarah and Jason, the two most important people in his entire life by his side at the time of the attack. Reagan slowly looks over to TYLER who is looking down, kinda disassociated a bit from the whole situation, is this why Jeffry went for TYLER instead of Reagan? The question Reagan has been asking for nearly a year might finally have an answer but…It’s not really the answer Reagan wanted out of this situation, he expected some vague evil guy reason because it’s Jeffry of all fucking people. Reagan returns his gaze to the centre, the putrid-looking glass ahead of him. And with no words or visible expression Reagan just reaches out his hand, grabs the cup and takes a long drink of the “Beerios” before gulping it all down. Reagan leans back into his chair, eyes still full of contemplation.​

Reagan: “You know…I thought it would be worse.”
​

And then wouldn’t you know? You might have to use a microscope for it but there is the tiniest smirk appearing on Reagan’s face. He’s not alone though, as Jeffry has begun to smile a bit as well. And for probably the first time Reagan can recall, it’s a genuine smile on the face of the Savior of Death, not just because he’s scheming.​

Reagan: “….I get it. I hate that I get it but I do. Legacy is a tricky son of a bitch, it’s the only thing that’s been keeping me going for the most part since that whole fiasco because here’s the thing, you continue to assume I hate you for that incident and I continue to say I don’t. Because here’s the thing, me in that company? I was a joke. When it comes down to it, I had never won a match with that company and that was supposed to be my first big break. And I remember saying to myself that maybe next time we’ll get that win, me and Luis. It can’t be that difficult, it’s just bad luck, that’s it. I mean Luis is a former world champion, I’m a former tag champion with this guy over here, we should have this no problem. Doesn’t matter that Luis had given up months ago and was giving the bare minimum to every match and how could I win with someone who didn’t want to win? In NGW I wasn’t doing anything, I didn’t do anything, I couldn’t just get one win as a breakout star! With all that time to do it, all the freedom I should have been on your level! But I wasn’t because I was complacent.”​

Now it’s time for Reagan to pause to just crack his neck a bit.​

Reagan: “So when you shut down the place, yeah it did fuck me up a bit because you did take my paycheque temporarily but also you took my big break from me. You took that from me leaving me to think that my legacy was to be the wrestling trivia quiz answer of “who was the person to team with the guy most known for having candy pizza in the background of his promos?”, THAT WAS THE LEGACY YOU GAVE ME. But obviously, I didn’t want that to be my legacy so I got better and stronger, I got on the level of many great guys.”

Reagan: “I got my second big break with FWA, I became the Gauntlet Champion, I walked into Back In Business as Gauntlet champion, I became the Tag Team Champion. I have beat names like Eli Black, Saint Sulley, Cyrus Truth, Kayden Knox, Gabrielle, and even you at your own game. The point is I CHANGED MY LEGACY. You didn’t. That’s why I don’t like you because you attached yourself to that moment and you let it run wild, you’ve been holding onto your legacy by targeting NGW wrestlers and making their lives hell! I always thought it was because of some sick show of power that you could show you still had after all of these years. But the truth is…it’s not because of any of that, is it? It’s because you’re still holding onto the legacy that your….wife and daughter had thought for you.”
​

Now it’s time for Jeffry to go slightly uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact as Reagan’s brain continues to go through the motions processing everything. He does hate that he’s feeling this sympathy.​

Reagan: “…Fucking hell, Jeff.”
​

Reagan leans back on the torn-up seating behind him as his analytical brain goes into almost overload. Reagan didn’t even know Jeffry had one kid never mind one alive and one dead. Meanwhile Lisa…He and Lisa had maybe one conversation. FNW didn’t exactly last long obviously now Reagan knows it’s because of an incident. It was just one show but a bunch of NGW guys were booked on it due to a personal email sent by Lisa. Reagan doesn’t even remember the match he was booked in back then, it was 7 years ago. Like Cole mentioned, he kinda just moved on when he realized there wasn’t gonna be a second show and he never really thought about the consequences.​

Reagan: “And I can’t even fucking blame you for any of that, can I? You said it yourself, Sarah and Jason in that situation. Yeah, I’ve never been a healthy coping mechanism kind of guy.”

Jeffry: “Welcome to the club”

Reagan: “Yeah….I still don’t know why we had to bring Trixie into this though.”

Jeffry: “Trixie seems naive, but she’s got potential. I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but there’s something about her that just screams screws can come loose at any point.”

Reagan: “She has already set a room on fire so that tracks, But her legacy is just beginning so-“

Jeffry: “So she can take some cracks and maybe take the same journey you just told me you did just a bit earlier…Listen all I need you to do is find out whether she’s Devin Golden crazy or Jeffry Mason crazy.”

Reagan: “…Alright I won’t promise anything but I guess I’ll see what I can do. For both of our loved ones…I guess cheers?”

Jeffry: “Glad you might finally be on board. Cheers, dudes.”
​

The three of them slightly reluctantly clink their mostly empty glasses in the air as even though the atmosphere is still extremly cold. maybe just may be, this unnatural alliance could be starting to take shape as the scene begins to fade.​

 

[Sully]

The Witch Queen

Things have been tense between the three members of The Coven ever since that episode of Fight Night. Kleio De Santos and her team left with a win, but it couldn't stop feeling like a loss to her. The events that transpired at ringside, and then eventually in the ring, led to Kleio being humiliated by Tommy Bedlam. Tommy Bedlam likely feels the same, but that consolation wasn't enough for Kleio to be content with what transpired.

Now she sits in the backroom of a church in Lock Haven, but she has nothing to say as both Celestia and Blair Ravenwood are bickering back and forth amongst each other. Kleio wasn't listening intently, but it appeared as though they were having several arguments at once. One of them was about what happened on the Fight Night show, another was about what happened at the Valentine's Day show, and a handful of others were about a number of petty things like who left the door open, or who's turn it was to feed the black cat.

Those that truly know Kleio are aware that when she's silent, it usually means that an inner rage is boiling up inside of her. At this moment she could physically feel her grasp both on her career, The Coven, and her sanity all slipping away. Kleio, for reasons likely attributed to all of her childhood trauma, is a by the book control freak. And at this moment she was beginning to feel like she had no control at all.

And if Fight Night wasn't evident enough of it, she certainly was feeling as if she had no control of Blair and Celestia. Kleio snapped back into reality for a split second to hear just a snippet of what Blair and Celestia were arguing about now.

"There should be no reason why you would be the one to fight Tommy, sister." Blair told Celestia. "You already got your chance at a singles match, with our shot at a tag team championship opportunity on the line, and you choked it away for us. You're not choking away this too." she continued on coldly.

The room grew quiet as Celestia had no response.

And at that moment two epiphanies were manifested.

The first was that of Celestia's. The epiphany that her sister Blair, as usual, was correct. What response could she give? Her sister was right. She had a chance to win a shot at the tag team titles for The Coven, and she lost to Jackson Fenix of all people. If it wasn't for that The Coven would be facing off against The Connection at Back in Town instead of Tommy Bedlam. For Celestia, an epiphany that Blair was correct was usually how their arguments ended. Celestia was certainly the more passive of the two sisters. Blair was always the assertive leader, and it's true even today. Blair makes the decisions, Blair knows what's right, Blair is the boss. Listen to Blair. And yet again, Celestia was reminded of that. Reassured of that even.

The second of the two epiphanies belonged to Kleio, and interestingly enough, it was quite similar to Celestia's epiphany. It was at that moment, that every moment from the past six months had reflected back to Kleio, and just like Celestia she begun to realize the reality of the current situation...Blair was in charge.

Blair was in charge of The Coven when she and Celestia recruited Kleio, and she's still in charge today. It didn't matter that Kleio had faced and defeated The Wendigo. It didn't matter that Kleio had passed the The Seven Trials, and it didn't matter that Blair herself had crowned Kleio as The Witch Queen and the leader of The Coven.

Kleio wasn't the true leader. She was only a pseudo-leader. Because all of this time, Blair had been calling the shots. Even when Kleio thought she was in charge, Blair was still by her side manipulating every move.

With the room still silent, and Kleio seething in anger from her revelation, Blair decided to break the silence by continuing yet again to make a decision for The Coven.

"It's pretty clear to me who should face off against Bedlam...me. And why shouldn't I? I am the only one out of the three of us who has yet to get a singles match since our debut. With Kleio and her concussion issues, and Celestia's incompetence, I think it's pretty clear that I am the safest option. Therefore, I will do it...and I will win" she says to both Kleio and Celestia.

Suddenly, Kleio's anger releases. She lets out a breath of air, and she can suddenly think clearly. But still, she holds her tongue. Celestia, already beaten into submission from the argument earlier, can only agree with her assertive sister at this point saying "Yes, Blair, I...I agree with you. That's probably the safest option. You can face Tommy".

Blair doesn't even ask Kleio for an opinion, as she's considered the matter pretty much settled. Blair gets up to leave the room, but right as she gets to the door, Kleio finally breaks her silence.

"Who do you think you are?" Kleio says to her, softly yet assertively.

Blair stops in her tracks and turns around. "Excuse me?" she says, genuinely confused. She thinks she may have misheard Kleio, or that Kleio might be having another one of her post-concussion episodes.

"You heard me. I asked you, who do you think you are Blair?" Kleio said to her, this time much louder and more intimidating. Blair seems caught off guard as she says "I...I don't know what you mean?"

Kleio stands up now and powerfully walks towards Blair. She continues to speak to her in the same soft but intimidating manner saying "I've sat here at this table and have listened to you speak all day. You speak to Celestia, you speak to me...you speak as if you're the one in charge. As if you're The Witch Queen. Are you The Witch Queen, Blair?"

Blair appears to regain her confidence as she repositions herself, switching back into manipulation mode now that she understands what's going on. She's gotten pretty good at using her words to sweet talk Kleio, and this moment in Blair's mind will be no different. "Of course not, Kleio. You are the Queen of The Coven. You passed The Seven Trials...you have power that neither Celestia or I could ever possess. We listen to you..." she tells her.

This time, Kleio is not convinced. Her soft voice turns into a roar as she gets in Blair's face and yells "STOP TRYING TO MANIPULATE ME, Blair!". Celestia meanwhile sits quietly in the corner, not quite sure what to do or whose side to take. Kleio continues "All this time that is what you have been doing. Manipulating me! Did you think I wouldn't notice? You have never seen me in charge. No, to you I am nothing more than a puppet. A figurehead. Because the fact of the matter is you don't have the skill, the strength, or the charisma to be the true figurehead of The Coven. No, you needed someone like me to be the puppet in charge, while you sit back and pull all the strings. You're clever like that, Blair. I do give you credit, but you're not as clever as me. And you're not as strong as me."

Blair doesn't know what to say. Kleio has never put up this much resistance. Blair could feel her position of power in The Coven slipping away as Kleio was becoming more assertive. Blair tries to reason with her "No, Kleio that's not true. I would never...I just..." but Kleio cuts her off "ENOUGH. Enough Blair...I want you to get one thing clear. I'm the leader of The Coven. I am The Witch Queen. I fought The Wendigo, I passed The Seven Trials, I am the one with the power! And at Back in Town, you will not be fighting Tommy Bedlam. I am...because you two both have been bumbling our success every chance you get. And I am sick of it"

Celestia finally tries to speak up, meekly trying to say "Kleio, we're trying our best...but we have to work together. We can't be fighting right now..." but Kleio isn't amused.

"Oh you think THIS is fighting? This? No, what I just sat and listened to for the last hour between you and your sister was fighting. What you did at ringside during my match at Fight Night was fighting. This? This is me putting the both of you in your place. Because the fact of the matter is you two have been out of control since you started in the FWA. What you two did at ringside was unacceptable. Do you think you fighting with one of my teammates was going to make us look stronger?

It didn't. It made us look weak, and it made us look out of control.

And now instead of doing something productive at Back in Town, I have to fight Tommy Bedlam because of the feud that the two of YOU started" she says to them both.

Celestia and Blair are silent. They look at each other trying to decide what to say or do at this point. It doesn't seem like Kleio is going to be calmed down at this point.

Things have gone way too far.

Kleio, never the less, continues. Now again with a softer tone, she continues "But, it's my fault. For you see I have not been a good leader. I sat back, and I let you two do whatever you wanted. I saw the three of us as equal partners...but it's clear to me that this isn't the way The Coven should be run. No, The Coven needs a true leader. Someone to make the hard decisions, and Blair...it isn't you." she says coldly to Blair.

It seems that Blair has finally had enough. She gets right back in Kleio's face.

"You're out of your damn mind. Do you actually think you're a witch? This is all a game, Kleio. There wasn't a Wendigo, and those Seven Trials? We found them on the internet. You're right...you were right the entire time. We've been using you. We needed someone like you to get us into the FWA. And you did...now we need you to keep being the little figurehead puppet that you're so good at doing. And you don't have a choice...because without us, you're nothing. You've burned too many bridges at this point to be alone again. Who are you going to run to? Saint Sulley? Because he's gone too. You'll be alone. All alone in the FWA with no friends. So you can either stay in our little witch club and have some fun learning some new spells we google, or you can go ahead and keep thinking you're boss. You'll be all alone at Back in Town, and Tommy Bedlam will tear you to shreds" Blair says confidently.

Kleio takes a step back, with Blair thinking she's yet again won.

But then Kleio steps forward and slaps Blair right across the face. Blair falls backward to the floor holding her face. She gets up, with nearly tears in her eyes.

"I am The Witch Queen. You will do as I say from now on Blair, or I will banish you to the underworld where you'll be a servant to Lilith for all of eternity" Kleio says to her.

Blair has finally had it.

"NO. I'm done...come on sister. Let's get out of here..." Blair says to Celestia. The games have finally gone too far, as Blair realizes that Kleio is far more out of control than she could ever have imagined. Blair opens the door to leave, but suddenly a gust of wind pulls it violently shut. Blair turns around to see Kleio's palm in the air facing the door.

Blair opens the door again, and yet again the door is pulled shut.

"You leave when I tell you to leave" Kleio demands to Blair.

And for the third time today, an epiphany occurs. This time, it belongs to Blair. For at that moment, she realized that it wasn't a game. Kleio De Santos truly was The Witch Queen. And for the first time ever, Blair realized...she wasn't in charge anymore. In fact, Kleio and Celestia both very much understood that as well.

Blair and Celestia both walk towards Kleio and get on their knees. Blair then submissively says "You are truly our Queen". Celestia says the same and adds on "Lead us my Queen...what do we do?".

Kleio smiled at the both of them. "From now on, what I say goes. I will be fighting Tommy Bedlam...and you two? You will stay at ringside, and you will do as I say. You will not attack Tommy unless I order it, or it was part of the plan. You will not go rouge, you will not put me in jeopardy. And the two of you? You're done fighting, and you're done with the power struggle. There is no power struggle because I have the power. If I hear you argue if I hear you fight? There will be severe consequences".

The two of them both reply with a "Yes my Queen".

Going into Back in Business, Kleio De Santos was The Witch Queen. But going into Back in Town, she will for the first time be the true leader of the Coven. She smiles at both Celestia and Blair, who are finally submissive. No longer arguing, no longer out of control. With things in line, The Coven may finally start to become more powerful than ever before.

"So my Queen, what will we do after you defeat Tommy Bedlam? You said you have big plans for us. What are they?" she asks, although a bit cautiously. Kleio turns to Celestia and smiles...

"I do have big plans. This Coven is going to grow powerful. It's going to dominate...but first, for it to do that...we need to find a place to call home." she says to the Ravenwood sisters. "Do you have a place in mind?" Blair asks her. And at that point...Kleio has a sly smile on her face as she pulls a photograph out of her pocket and throws it down on the table.

"I do." she says confidently.

All three members of The Coven smile deviously as they look at the photo together. Kleio then, with her finger...lights the photo on fire as we begin to slowly fade away.

​

 

[Dubb]

The night was July 10.
The year was 2022.

It was FWA Back in Business.
The biggest weekend in wrestling.

A night that went down in history. A night of spectacular matches. A night capped by the
unforgettable moment of Danny Toner winning the FWA Championship and reforming
Executive Excellence.

But overshadowed by all of this was something else that happened on Night 2 of Back in Business.

Krash and Randy Ramon. Two wrestlers with storied and successful FWA careers. Both bitter rivals.

On this night they would battle across Rio De Janeiro. A battle that for these two men… it wasn’t about
how badly they wanted to win… it was about how badly they wanted to see the other one lose.

To the point where…

They both lost.

Randy Ramon and Krash were both last seen falling into the waters of the lake of Quinta da Boa Vista.

Presumed dead.

The world continued to turn. The sun continued to rise. And FWA continued to move on without
two of its biggest names.

But one man was not satisfied.

One man wanted answers.

One man refused to believe that his hero was dead.

He was out here somewhere. And he needed his help.

This man was Jeremy Best.

His quest was known as the Krash Crusade.

But was there more to it? Why was Jeremy the only one so determined for answers? How much
do we really know about the man who has called himself “Our New Best Friend?”
Is there more than meets the eye?

Tonight, we learn the truth behind The Krash Crusades.

The truth about Jeremy Best.

Season 4 - Episode 1: The Krash Crusades


Who is Jeremy Best and what was it that made him lead the charge to solve the mystery of the
missing Krash? After all, Krash had many other friends that could've taken up the mantle.
There were plenty of people who missed Krash. Including but not just limited to his actual tag
team partner, Alyster Black. But instead, it was Jeremy Best. A self-proclaimed Krash superfan
prior to joining the FWA. A man who idolized Krash both during and before his FWA run.



​

-Bryan Baxter, Tag Team Partner/Friend
“Yeah… I never really got it, to be honest. I met the dude a few times, meh.
But Jeremy was a huge fan. Even during our EWF days he would never miss
a Krash match. He had fuckin’ Krash Pajamas, dude. But yeah, he dreamed of
the day that one day he could be in the FWA and wrestle alongside Krash.”

-Jackson Fenix, Former Friend
“Oooh my God. The guy wouldn’t shut up about Krash. Krashy this. Krashy that.
BLAH BLAH BLAH! Shut up already! We get it! Why don’t you marry the guy
already if you love him that much!”​

But who is Jeremy Best really? We know the on-screen persona. We know the friendly demeanor.
But is that the real Jeremy Best? To really get an understanding of the Krash Crusades, we need
to know more about the man behind the Crusades.

​

"Who is Jeremy Best? Kinda stupid question. Who doesn’t know who Jeremy is?
Okay, well first of all he’s my tag partner. He’s my best friend… well… my only
friend technically. Or at least the only person I trust.”’

“He sucks! Big ole phony! Nobody is buying this best friend bullshit”​

-Bill Scorpane, Jeremy's Agent
"Yeah, he’s a client of mine… you may know me of Big Bill’s Auto Empire, that’s
right, we’re an Empire now. Best car dealership on the East Coast, by the way.
Come on down because we’re wheelin’ and dealin’! And.. oh, you wanted to
know about Jeremy? Yeah… good guy. A little too good for his own good,
if ya know what I’m sayin’."

Okay, so while Jeremy had certainly made some friends along the way in his FWA career,
he had made some enemies too.

But that's not quite what we're looking for here, now is it?

We need to go deeper.

Who REALLY is Jeremy Best?

Not who is he in the FWA.

What do we know about him before FWA?

​

“His family life? Shit, I don’t know. I don’t really mix business with personal so
I don’t really care to know much about Jeremy’s personal life. What does it
matter anyway?”

“I mean, I met Jeremy before we were both in FWA. We met in a local independent
company called Elite Wrestling Federation. For some reason, he actually wanted to
team up with me and The Buddy System had a lot of success. We were both a couple
of North Carolina boys and we got along well despite our differences and different
viewpoints on how things should get done. But he didn’t talk a whole lot about his
personal life, ya know. Wasn’t really something that came up much, I guess? I know
he had a mom… I am not sure about his dad. I think his mom raised him so I dunno
if his dad skipped out or died or I dunno man, I don’t know what to tell ya. I know
none of his family ever came to any of our shows, if that tells you anything.”

​

On the surface, it would appear a little strange that such a pleasant, friendly personality who
seemingly had an upbringing with a loving mother would at least be interested in seeing
him in action. Or why someone so friendly would never have anyone come to see him wrestle?

After all, for Jeremy Best, there is nothing more important to him than friendship.

More on that to come.

But back to the matter at hand. So Jeremy grows up a big fan of Krash. This inspires himself
to become a wrestler and then sure enough, one day, Jeremy finds himself on the FWA roster.
Talk about a dream come true. And not only would he be on the roster... he very quickly had the
chance to wrestle alongside his hero.

And that's what really began the continued growing friendship.

Or... obsession?

It was the Cibernetico.

​

“Yeah I guess that’s kinda where the story all starts. Or at least as far as
FWA is concerned because I know he’s been obsessed with the guy for years.
But low and behold, Jeremy’s only a couple matches into his FWA career and
there’s this Cibernetico Match… a multi-man tag match that was gonna be a
big part of determining a later title match… well damned if Krash didn’t pick
Jeremy to be on his team.”

“Don’t get me started on that stupid tag match! Jeremy wouldn’t shut up about being
able to team with his hero! I told him not to trust any of those guys…”

​

“Fuck that match man. That’s where I met… you know what… I don’t
wanna talk about it. Next question.”

Through a series of team building events that included a trip to Sesame Street,
the team grew close... especially Krash and Jeremy. The team would go on to win
and lead to an even bigger connection as Jeremy would continue to look to Krash
as now not just a hero... not just a mentor... but a friend.

While the rest of his first year in the FWA, Jeremy would be dealing with other
friendships... such as the renewed one with his old tag partner, Bryan Baxter...
and ultimately doomed ones with Jackson Fenix... in the background
continued to be Jeremy's mentions of his good friend Krash.

Many noted that this was perhaps a one-sided friendship. After all, Krash had his own
tag team partner in Alyster Black. And Krash had his own things going on, including winning
the FWA Championship and a bitter rivalry with Golden Rock - specifically Randy Ramon.

Which leads us to that ill-fated night of Back in Business where Randy and Krash took
their fatal dip into the lake of Quinta da Boa Vista.

​

“It was pretty bad… he was distraught… well at first. But then… he had like
this weird sense of… I guess you could call it hope. He didn’t believe any the
stories about Krash being dead. He just felt it in his bones, ya know. Like
Krash COULDN’T POSSIBLY be dead. And Jeremy had it in his mind that he
was gonna be the one to save him.”

And so the Krash Crusades were born. Jeremy was determined to go out and find Krash
and not just find him, mind you, find him alive. But again one wonders, why Jeremy?

Why not his partner? Alyster Black? Why wasn't he the one taking up that mantle?

We attempted to reach Alyster Black for his side of the story.
​

-Alyster Black (Stock Photo), Not A Friend
"Go fuck yourself."
​

So one probably assumes that any reasonable person would not go on such a quest.
A reasonable person would realize that if two bodies go into the water... and no one comes out...
Well... it's probably not a good thing. Alyster Black like most in FWA, mourned the loss in
their own way.

But it seems like Jeremy Best is not a reasonable person. He instead enlisted some friends
on a quest that was destined to be fruitless.

​

-XYZ, Current Friend
“Ah yes, good ole Jeremy Best. What a guy, that Jeremy Best. Yes, he did
come to my Hall of Justice seeking to become an XYZite in order to obtain
my assistance in his quest to rescue Krash. As I deemed Jeremy Best as
both honorable and noble while also finding Krash to be both honorable
and noble, and thus I was happy to provide any help I could.”

“Honestly, I thought it was a bit useless. What were Jeremy, me, and a goofy little man
in a cape going to do that the police couldn’t? There's people trained for this shit and
we’re just out here trying to pretend like we’re superheroes?”
​

Even Jeremy's own friends realized this was a useless effort. But being the good friends that
they were... they played along. They let Jeremy believe that there was still hope.
That the Krash Crusades would result in them finding and rescuing Krash, bringing him back
to FWA triumphantly.

These are the thoughts of someone who is clearly not mentally stable.

Jeremy Best has an obsession.

He is clearly obsessed with Krash and has lost his grip on reality.
If the Krash Crusades prove anything, they prove just how ungrounded this man is.

Yet his friends have enabled him.

They have bought in to the facade of who Jeremy Best wants everyone to think he is.

We started this episode wanting to answer that very question.

Who is Jeremy Best.

We wanted to know about his past. Because that might answer the true intentions
behind the Krash Crusades.

And there was one person who could answer that question.

​

-Becky Vabce, Former Friend
"Hi, my name is Rebecca Vance… but I go by Becky. And I do know
Jeremy Best… quite well. Unfortunately…”

“So let’s see… where to begin. Well, me and Jeremy went to the same
high school. Actually, we went through all school levels together there…
Friendship was a small town after all. I always kinda had a thing for
Jeremy… he was just so nice… so sweet… so innocent… so much different
than most the other guys. And I mean, I wasn’t exactly the most popular
kid myself but Jeremy was always so much more interested in trying to be
friends with people. I’m not sure he ever had any interest in anyone
romantically.”

“Eventually I just kinda accepted it I guess? I tried so many times to get
him to notice me… I tried to steer him clear of some of those people who
were justusing him because of how nice he was… but then… something
happened once we graduated.”

“The thing about small towns in North Carolina… there’s two types of people.
The people who leave once you graduate and the kind that stay. Most people
fall into the first category. Me and Jeremy… we fell into the second. And a lot
of those people Jeremy spent all these years trying to be friends with… being
used by them… well… they all moved on. They went to college. Suddenly…
I was all Jeremy had left.”

What do you mean? You were all he had left?
What about his family? His mother?
​

“Family? No, I don’t think Jeremy had much family. He was an only child, for sure. And
I believe his dad passed away when he was young.”

"As for his mother... I know she worked a lot. Jeremy spent a lot of time alone at home
alone as a kid watching TV while she was at work. It was a different world back then.”

“But yeah, I was basically his only friend left. And… it was kinda nice at first, y’know.
I had wanted his attention for so long and I was finally getting it. All. of. It.
Like… nonstop."

"And it wasn’t the kind of attention I had wanted from him for so long. He wasn’t interested
in me romantically, as I said… and he still wasn’t. But he was always around."

"Always texting."

"Always calling."

"He just wouldn’t stop… and I when I would try to hang out with someone else… or… oh yeah,
once I tried to start dating… Jeremy would interject himself. In his mind… I was his friend,
and he was going to have me all to himself.”

“It got a bit out of hand. He was showing up in the middle of night at times. He started
harassing some of my other friends. I just had had enough. I told him that I needed some
space. That he was just a bit too much for me to deal with… "

"I wanted a life where I wasn’t friends with Jeremy Best.”
​

And was that the end of that? She cut things off with Jeremy...
But no. It wasn't that simple, was it?

​

“I think he took it pretty hard… at first. It was like total crickets the first few
days after that. But suddenly… he was back. Like nothing had happened. He
just knocked on my door and was like let’s go grab some lunch. Really? He
was literally just pretending like nothing had ever happened.”

“Honestly, I was at a loss for what to do. I’d already tried letting him down
easy… and I was on the spot so I just made up a lie about needing to go to a
job interview. I kept coming up with excuses for why I couldn't spend any time with him.
But then... some weirds stuff started happening. My other friends that I had started hanging
out with... they started having things happen to them. Like, one had their tires slashed and
couldn't make our lunch. One had their car keyed while we were in the movies. And then
while I was out on a date.. when we came home… my front door was wide open…”

“So come to find out… at some point in time, Jeremy had snuck my house key away
and made copies for himself. So he let himself in and… just completely trashed my
house. Windows were busted. TV was ripped off the wall and smashed on the ground.
All my furniture had been sliced up. And the weirdest part of all... every photograph in
my house was gone."

"I knew it was Jeremy. It had to be. All the signs pointed to him but I wasn’t able to provide
any solid proof so the cops wouldn't do anything. Everyone in town believed Jeremy was
just this nice boy who couldn't possibly do any of this. But what I did do was move in
with a friend and get a restraining order…”

“And yeah… well that kinda was that. I haven’t seen him since.”

So at what point did you start sending him those gifts. Those letters?
Surely the "B" has to be you, right?

​

“What? Notes? Gifts? Sorry, yeah no… definitely wasn’t me. Trust me…
I want nothing to do with Jeremy Best.”

​

Stinging words about a man that has endeared himself to so many people.
But clearly the Jeremy Best we've seen is just one version...
A man so obsessed with one person's friendship...
Just how far would he go if pushed?
Thankfully, Krash isn't around to find out.


~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~

​

The video stopped.

​

“Did you watch it?” The voice of Bill Scorpane questioned through the other end of a cell phone.

Jeremy Best stared at his computer screen, watching the video of his old friend Becky telling just the worst of lies about him. How could she say such things about him? They were such good friends! Thankfully, his pal, Mr. Scorpane had learned of the nefarious intentions of this libelous production company putting together such drivel.

“Yeah… I saw it,” Jeremy confirmed.

“I just wanted you to know about this… but you don’t need to worry about it,” Scorpane assured, “I’ve taken care of it. It’ll never see the light of day.”

Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir…”

“Luckily for you, I have yet to find a problem money can’t solve. We have an image to uphold. I don’t know how much they paid that bitch to say those things, but hopefully, that’s the last we’ll hear of it.”

“I’m just as surprised as you are, sir…”

“You definitely owe me one… keep that in mind… I know Bryan misses you for some reason..”

Jeremy let out a slight smile, “Thanks again… see you at Back in Town.” Jeremy hung up the phone. His eyes lingered on the final shots of Becky on his screen. He zoomed in on the frame and reached up, gently caressed her face on the computer screen. Jeremy then brought his mouse cursor up to the corner and closed out of the video. He clicked on the document on his desktop and clicked delete.

Are you sure? Yes.

Empty Recycling Bin. Are you sure? Yes.

Jeremy closed the laptop and stood up from his dining room table. He walked across his apartment, stopping to give a smile to his friend XYZ, who he had been allowing to stay with him since the loss of “Big Al,” as he slept on the couch. Jeremy turned to his bedroom door, opened it and walked into the dark room. He shut and locked the door behind himself. He turned on the lights and walked over to the closet door.

Sliding a hidden key off the ledge of the door frame, Jeremy unlocked the locked closet door before opening it with a creak. He stepped inside the dark closet, reaching up to yank on the pull string of the light switch, effectively illuminating the room.

Jeremy was now standing before what could only be described as a shrine of Krash. Photos were plastered all over the wall of Krash. Newspaper clippings about his disappearances. Pictures of Jeremy and Krash together from Cibernetico. There’s a whole rack in the closet filled with Krash merchandise. Krash action figures were still in their box on a shelf along the other wall.

He stepped forward to the back wall, taking his hand and placing it on one of the photos. “I haven’t given up hope. I will find you. I will save you.”

Jeremy’s attention was diverted to another picture on the wall. It was a picture of Krash but not with Jeremy. It was a picture of Krash with his Gang Stars tag partner, Alyster Black. Jeremy tugged that picture off the wall and examined it closely.

Alyster Black. The other man who considered Krash his best friend.

Some friend he has been.

Where was Alyster Black when Krash went missing?

Why wasn’t he out putting all the hours into finding his friend.

Why wasn’t he leading the Krash Crusades alongside Jeremy?

A man Krash seemed to hold so near and dear yet he was too busy chasing titles. Jeremy hoped that his very, VERY brief FWA title run was worth a years-long friendship.

Jeremy still remains hopeful that Krash is out there. Alyster Black immediately went on with his life.

An old, familiar feeling was bubbling up in Jeremy’s insides. Was that… anger? No, this Alyster Black was no friend of Krash’s. Not a real friend anyway. Jeremy was Krash’s friend. His REAL friend. His ONLY friend. Alyster Black clearly didn't care about Krash!

At Back in Town, Jeremy wanted nothing more than to honor his friend in the best way possible.

He slowly began to rip the photograph down the middle. Slowly, quite literally, tearing away Alyster Black from Krash in the photo until the picture was completely town.

At Back in Town, Jeremy would prove to Krash that he is the better friend.

That he is the BEST friend.

Jeremy rips the half of the photo with Alyster on it into many pieces, tossing the remnants on the floor before pinning the photo of Krash back onto the wall with the others.

“See you soon, my friend.”

​

 

[Dubb]

Sawyer Xavier's secret BiT promo:

"Everyone can recognize history when it happens. Everyone can recognize history after is has happened; but only the wise man knows at the moment what is vital and permanent, what is lasting and memorable." - Winston Churchill

~

NOVEMBER 2022

The pungent smell of burning filled the voided nighttime sky, the environment coated with lighting only from a slightly crackling fire. A figure stood half in the shadows, half illuminated by the crisp inferno sparked by them. They threw a shirt into the fire, emotionlessly watching it burn away into nothing. Is that all that it takes to be destroyed? It wasn't a flamboyant, flashy, or even interesting destruction of cloth it was just quick and miniscule.

The figure stepped a little further into the lighting, revealing a slight scraggly beard and some greasy, undone hair. His eyes were captivated by the fire, watching the memories of days long ago burn away in an unneeded fashion. Was this how everything ends up? You can be at the top of the world, yet your platform can burn to a crisp in mere minutes, or in this case, seconds. The figure sent another shirt hurling into the fire, before letting out a sigh.

Was this ending necessary? Was it unavoidable at best? It's all on perspective, you see. Some people may agree this was always inevitable, that the breaking point would be reached. Others would show they had hope that this ending was only an intrusive thought. It's hard to tell, at the end of it.

The figure continued to watch the fire burn. Soon, the chilling wind came in, burying the flames with a minuscule breeze. After a few minutes, all that remained was a pile of ashes, littered with bits of cloth. That was it, that was all it took to end childhood dreams. That was all that was needed to end a future, end a past, and end the present.

The figure turned around, walking into the darkness of the night. The ashes began to be picked up by the elements of wind, being carried across the world as the man who watched them disappeared.

~

PRESENT DAY

Chairperson: So, Sawyer, could you tell us about these last few months? You haven't been to a meeting since July.

Sawyer stopped his thoughts. He began to press his foot on the floor repeatedly, his eyes glancing around at the figures of people watching him.

Saywer: Well, umm. I got ... clean. For the most part. I still drank from time to time but, it wasn't bad-bad. And umm ...

His speaking stopped. His voice croaked with uncertainty, as he watched the fellow strugglers glare him down. His thumbs began to twiddle around each other, with every new attempt to speak being blockaded by an umm.

Sawyer: I relapsed. Just, fell off the face of the earth. Drank my sorrows away, yknow. It's ... something I'm ashamed of.

He dipped his head down, hiding his face from the rest of the crowd. His hands slipped over his face, dragging down the remnants of his facial features.

Chairperson: There's no reason to be ashamed. We all struggle, everyone's journey is different. And, if you aren't feeling comfortable, we'll circle back around to you.

Sawyer glanced his look up, nodding towards the direction of the chairperson. The following conversation muffled in his mind as the thoughts danced around his brain, picking various interest points. One of which, was the FWA. His one true hope, his one true goal. The reason he started was to be around the very best. And now, he was an ashamed alumni. He walked out, without any rhyme or reason.

It wasn't a pleasant walk out either, he just went off the grid. Nobody knew where he was, nobody cared to know where he was. It was just, a spur of the moment deal. Crazy that's a common theme for him.

These thoughts carried his mind, sparking different thought patterns. Before he could strike up one on what could've been, he heard the sounds of chairs shuffling.

Chairperson: And that does it for this meeting. It was an honor seeing you all come out to speak. And if you ever need someone, I'm here to help.

Sawyer would stand up amongst the crowd, leaving the building his AA meeting was being held. This wasn't a first time ordeal. Back in 2013, he fell into a deep alcoholic depression, so that's the root of the troubles it seems. Things never went away though, always resting as a virus of the mind. He made his way to his van, with it looking in rough condition. He opened the drivers door up, kicking back a few empty bottles of alcohol as he slumped into the drivers seat.

"Where did I go wrong." Sawyer held his hands to his face, muffling his words as he sat in the solitude of the car. He has many questions that can't be answered, because he doesn't know himself. After a few minutes of this, Sawyer moved his head back to rest in the chair. He grabbed his phone from the glovebox, opening it up to check his emails, clicking on the most recent one ...

---

FWA Management
to: Sawyer Xavier
on: January 30, 2023

Hello Sawyer,

We've read your recent applications for a return to the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance, alongside monitoring recent phone conversations with our talent scouting staff and backstage officials. We've come up with the terms of conditions for your new contract to the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance, and would like to welcome you back to our company!

You are currently scheduled for the FWA Back In Town card, where you will be competing inside of a ladder match with a $10,000 dollar signing bonus, alongside new recruitees Princess Nova, Madison Gray, and returning veteran Logan Darwin.

Good luck Sawyer.

---

Sawyer had reread that Email numerous times, being in disbelief every attempt. It felt like a fruitless attempt, after his unceremonious exit. His mind was telling him to be ecstatic, yet he wasn't. His body shivered with nerves, uncomfortable with the mindset of failure.

He reached in the back, opening a cooler and pulling out an unmarked soda can. He cracked it open, taking a long sip before putting it inside of a cup holder. "So, here we go again. Another opportunity. I've figured I've had enough. I mean, hell, who'd want me back in a company when I can't be trusted to bother and perform."

Sawyer chuckles, letting his head rest mid-between the open air and the leather seat. "Logan Darwin ... how funny is it that we're meeting in this circumstance. When we first met, you were a new gun to this company. You came in though, established with decades of experience. Your first match in the FWA was against me. You were someone I admired, for your longtime dedication to being better. And you know what happened, I lost."

"I blew one of my only chances at rebuilding myself. I was on another streak of bad luck. Once again, the newest face in the company came in to walk over me. My pride was hurt that night. I respected that man, but when we stepped in the ring he treated me like just another chew toy. I was ripped to pieces, thrown to the side in the Gauntlet division. Logan Darwin is the reason for my troubles, Logan Darwin is the reason behind this recent streak of bad luck."

Sawyer distaste for Logan brought a semi-angry scrowl, as he downed the can of soda again. "Next up on the chopping block, Princess Nova. An over-rated little drama queen. The Residence are a bunch of piles of crap if you ask me. It always seems my bad luck stems from a showdown with the newest star of a company. So, am I horribly fucked? Is it my destiny to be walked over every single time someone else signs a contract. It's .... a possibility."

Sawyer frowned slightly, rolling down his window to let some fresh air in. "And finally ... Madison Gray. Yknow, I gotta give her a load of respect. For being 18 ... almost 19 even, she's already got herself a job in the biggest company in the world. Not a lot of folks can say that. Yet, that's her biggest disadvantage. She's young, she's dumb. She's new the harsh, bloody world of professional wrestling. She might get stage fright, mess up, she'll do something to show she's not ready."

"I gotta give them all credit though ... I guess. I mean, to even make it here is a major feat. Only the best of the best can truly be FWA Superstars. It's ... just a little bittersweet. I get another chance at the big leagues, but it irks me. The feeling that I will mess up my one shot overtakes my desire to be there. But .... my hearts never wrong. My heart yearns for this chance, and my heart is going to be the reason. So, I don't know how great I will be ... but, damn it I won't give up this chance."

Sawyer's last line popped a slight smile, but it soon died down. Regrets, worries, desires all colliding. Nothing's certain. The past can be manipulated, the future can be controlled, but the present isn't ever certain. At any moment, the present can create history, the present can be the history you look back on. Maybe, in 5 months he'll look back on this talk, and regret it. Or maybe, in 5 months he'll be back towards the peak of the mountain, back to where he was before it all went to hell.