This evening was supposed to be exciting. For the past few weeks, Aron had been growing with excited anticipation to the point his nerves caused him to feel physically ill. Privately and away from others, he had pondered whether or not he had made a gross mistake in signing up for the Blast From the Past in an attempt to emulate his older brother and follow in his proverbial footsteps -- though he would never admit such reluctance to Kristjan and receive an “I told you so” as a result.
Aron hadn’t talked to his brother about signing up for the tournament. He knew what his reactions would be and quite honestly, he didn’t want to deal with another round of “Kristjan Knows Best.” All throughout his life, Kristjan had always looked out for Aron’s welfare, and vice versa. It was just a small part of what formed such a strong bond between these two brothers. It didn’t matter if it was against schoolyard bullies or their two older sisters, it had always been the Brothers Baltarasson against the world. But there were times when Kristjan’s protective nature became almost obsessive, and when he seemingly would put his foot down about one thing or another, all it served to do was make Aron push back.
Las Vegas, Nevada - GO Gym
May 2018
“A, what the hell are you doing!?” Kristian bellowed as he emerged from the state-of-the-art facility’s break room. As strenuous as the training of the Stevens was heralded being, both Gabriel and Odette were also known for their companion toward the men and women they took under their professional wings, always insisting on regular breaks throughout the day to rest both body and soul. And even when dealing with stubborn students such as the hot tempered Kristjan, the Stevens generally won out.
Aron had been perched upon the top turnbuckle on unsteady legs, back turned to the ring while facing the gym where Odette and their little helper Despy stood watching. Aron started at Kristjan’s outburst, but Gabriel had been standing on the ring apron, providing him with a steady hand so as to keep him from falling.
Kristjan arrived at the ring, eyes emblazoned and looking back and forth between his mentor and his flesh and blood, silently demanding an explanation.
“Relax Kristjan.” Gabriel offered. “I'm working with your brother on some offensive moves off the top.” At Kristjan’s frown, Gabriel further explained, “You know, the types of moves I showed you both that Despy used to do?”
Behind them, Despy leaned over to coyly whisper to Odette, “I'm a film star!” eliciting a snort of held back laughter from the gym’s matriarch.
“You're going to fall!” Kristjan exclaimed, staring up at Aron who shot back, “I almost did fall, because of your big mouth!”
“Kristjan, relax.” Gabriel switched to the siblings native Icelandic tongue for their benefit. “I'm not teaching him anything that I haven't taught anyone else. And I've yet to have a single fatality.” He added with good humor, but the look on Kristjan’s face told him the attempt at humor was lost on him. Go figure. Gabriel could but roll his eyes at the man's over protective nature although he secretly held him in high regard for it.
“He's not ready for something like this!” Kristjan stressed. “He shouldn't be doing this to start with!”
“Yes, well…” Gabriel stared him down. “That's really for Aron to decide, isn't it?”
Kristjan’s jaw was set like stone, but he finally relented and pointed up at his brother who was still in a crouched position. “If you fall and break your neck, I'm not picking your ass up!”
“Kristjan, will you stop and look inside of the ring?” Gabriel took Fenris’s attention away from his brother and directed it inside of the ring where a large, foam mattress that was at least a foot if not eighteen inches thick was spread across the mat. Gabriel stressed, “That is for him to land on. Most that will happen is he gets a little winded, but he won’t get hurt.”
Still with a sense of worry if not distrust for his sibling’s welfare, Fenris looks back and forth between the inside of the ring and his trainer before finally relenting and taking a step back to allow Aron the chance to resume what Gabriel had been trying to teach before he had interrupted.
Gabriel then turned back to Aron and said, “Okay, the most important factor for performing this move successfully is leg strength and flexibility. You have the leg strength, so what you have to do is squat down and use the momentum of the ropes to launch yourself backward and up, using your legs for the delivery. I showed you the videos in slow motion, so now give it a try.”
Gabriel hopped down from the ring apron and turned to watch along with everyone else as Aron steadied himself, crouched down. The fact he had this small audience couldn’t be helping, but if he ever performed in front of a live crowd, it would be in front of hundreds, if not thousands, more. Or perhaps it was because one of those watching with such a critical eye was his flesh and blood.
Aron used his legs to jump back, but did not twist in the air enough to flip backwards and landed awkwardly on the mat on his side. Kristjan closed his eyes as Despayre cringed, but Gabriel climbed into the ring to help an embarrassed Aron get back up onto his feet.
“Sorry…” He started to say but Gabriel shook his head. “For what?” he asked. “Did you expect to get it right the first time? Aron, nobody does. Nobody gets it right in the first dozen tries. So just get up there and try again.”
And he did. Gabriel stood against the ropes and watched closely and carefully as Aron tried a second time without much better success -- and a third. He landed on his side a sixth and a seventh time, and one mishap somehow even saw him land on his butt.
“Despy, show him.” Gabriel said after another try, and his ‘little brother’ and tag team partner quickly scrambled to the top of the corner as they made room, and in one fluid movement, Despayre flew backward and onto the mat with a picture-perfect moonsault, even adding a little flare in the form of a corkscrew right at the very end.
“You see, like that.” Gabriel nudged Aron with a playful smile. “Only, you know, without the little extra at the end.”
As Gabriel helped Aron to the top again, Despayre slid outside and skipped circles around Kristjan and Odette. Aron’s next attempt went better, but still was not what the Stevens wanted. Again and again Aron tried and he would not give up until he had it right, displaying the same grit and determination for success that his own brother had shown time and again. Until finally after multiple attempts, a weary and sweaty Aron lept backward, and in a lovely arc, landed chest-first on the mat having performed the moonsault perfectly at long last!
Gabriel jumped and pumped a fist, always taking pride in a student doing well, as Odette smiled and Despayre jumped up and down. And away from his brother’s sight as he rose, Kristjan smiled with pride.
The Grand York - York, England
Two weeks ago
The Grand York was one of the better establishments in York, a ranked five star hotel and an appropriate place to stay for the Superstars and Bombshells of SCW if they so chose. As was the norm, Aron had pre-arranged these accommodations as part of his duties as his brother’s business manager. He knew Fenris had a liking for clean colors and wide, open spaces and this hotel certainly fit the bill on both counts.
The exterior of the building itself was brick, an old school make that made it closely resemble something right out of Victorian England, which only added to its charm. But the interior was something modern to behold, with the rooms nothing but clean, open space and even an indoor pool for guests to take advantage of during this cooler time of year. Which Fenris and Aron both did, both young men having a liking for swimming since an early age. And although the rooms were not Fenris’s preferred ‘white,’ they were big and welcoming, even though the wallpaper and rose colored pillows on the bgeds what Fenris referred to as “fucking girly.”
This was just after Climax Control in York had concluded. The normal tradition after a successful show was for the athletes to congregate at a local bar or club and celebrate with a few (a lot) of drinks, but the recent Coronavirus scare has squashed that tradition to one where, if they were lucky, the wrestlers and staff would get their hands on some beer or hard liquor and bring it back to their rooms to share with their roommates or friends if they chose to risk breaking the recommended social separation. As was the norm for the Brothers Baltasarsson, the two always shared a room. Not for saving on expenses, but it had always been a source of comfort between them.
At least until tonight that is.
The door to their hotel room flew open with a loud clatter, and Fenris came storming inside to find Aron packing his bags as swiftly as he could, throwing his clothes from the provided dresser they shared into his luggage.
“What the fuck was that all about!?” Fenris barked (pun intended) but when his younger brother did not immediately respond, Fenris took action by grabbing him by the shoulder. “Aron!”
But in an uncharacteristic display of aggression, Aron spun around and all but swatted his brother’s hand from his arm and stared him down, his emblazoned blue eyes a match for Fenris’s own.
“Don’t touch me!” Aron seethed, pointing a finger up at him. “And right now, I don’t want to talk to you!”
“You left the damn building without even waiting for me!” Fenris said, as if he were confused why Aron had not sheathed his anger like he usually did. Aron was only human after all, and he did get angry just like everyone else. But unlike everyone else, he had a natural affinity for burying that anger and acting as if everything was alright, even were it not.
Just not this time.
Fenris stepped closer to the bed Aron slept in and said, “I didn’t even know you left until Ben told me!”
“What part of my not wanting to talk to you was lost on you?” Aron asked, to which Fenris replied, “Well too damn bad! I want to…”
“And that is what everything is always about, isn’t it?” Aron sighed. “What you want, just like always.”
Fenris said, “I don’t get what the hell is wrong with you! All I did was help…”
“I didn’t WANT you to!” Aron turned and yelled in Fenris’s face, taking him quite by surprise. “Why can’t you understand that!? I wanted to win on my own!” And before Fenris could point out the fact that it had appeared that Hitamashii had Aron beat before his own intervention, Aron interrupted him and stressed, “And if I had to lose on my own, so be it! I’d just have to try harder if I decide to continue after this…”
“Decide to continue…?” Fenris frowned. “I thought this was a one-time thing! You wrestling for this tournament!”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Aron said, stuffing the last of his belongings into the bag and he zipped it up but before he could pick it up, Fenris grabbed it and threw it against the length of the bed and out of his reach.
“Hey…!” Aron protested but as he made a move to retrieve it, Fenris stood in his way, blocking his path. He said, “I don’t get what the hell has gotten into you! Everything was fine for two years where I fought and you managed me, now all of a sudden you want to put yourself directly in harm’s way!? Do you even fucking remember when Raab had me busted open!? Or the way Mercer damn near gave me a goddamn concussion with that claymore kick!? Do you seriously want to fucking go through that!?”
Aron turned to speak to his brother, his face taking on a more relaxed approach as if he were succumbing to his usual behavior. But Fenris continued, “Mom and Dad ripped me a new one over you doing this! They made me promise that you wouldn’t get hurt! Do you have any idea what the hell they’ll say to me if you go out there and get fucked up!?”
And just like that, Aron’s calm exterior turned ugly and cold. He shook his head and in a whisper much like Fenris’s own, he says, “You selfish son of a... That's what this is about, isn't it!? Just like always, it's always about you? How it affects you! How it makes you feel?”
“No!” Fenris protested. “I’m just trying to watch out for you!”
“I never asked you to, K!” Aron said right back, his tone matching his brother’s own growing angry one. “Contrary to what you think, I’m a grown man! I don’t need you to swoop in to save me like you did when we were kids!”
Fenris tries again to speak and defend himself, but again he is cut off by his brother, “I was excited K, do you get that!? I was looking forward to this! My first match! The first chance I’ve ever had to do something like this on my own and you RUINED it! You HUMILIATED me!”
“How the hell did I humiliate you!?”
“You basically went out there in front of everyone and told them that you didn’t believe in me! That even my own brother didn’t think I could do this on my own! So maybe you’re right! Maybe the real issue here is you! Maybe you were just worried that I would go out there and lose and embarrass you! That the great and mighty Fenris’s little brother couldn’t live up to the standards that he set!”
“Okay now you’re over…”
But Aron was not done and he ripped his bag from the bed and stood right in his brother’s face, “Well I have news for you, Kristjan! The world does not revolve around you! It does not dictate by your opinions and how you think things should be!”
“I know that!”
“No you don’t! Ever since you were a kid, everything always had to be your way or all hell would break loose!” He power walked toward the door, adding in for good measure, “You’re a spoiled brat K! Everything always has to be your way or no way!”
“Where are you going?” Fenris tooka step forward as Aron opened their hotel room door. Aron turned around and answered, “Back to Las Vegas! I already asked Gabriel if I could stay at his place until my next round match.”
“You can’t just leave in the middle of this tour!” Fenris said, a hint of worry starting to be heard in his voice. “I need you…”
“You need me.” Aron said calmly, stepping out into the hall. “Isn’t that a switch?” And he shut the door behind him, leaving Fenris standing there in stark shock.
At an empty and darkened GO Gym, Aron sat on the side of the ring, his hands clasped together in his lap. He had obviously just finished another rigorous training session, as he was still wearing his gear and his lightly tanned flesh still glistened with perspiration. Time had helped, as his face was much more calm that it had been the past two weeks. He wrung his hands together as he addressed the camera.
“It isn’t that often that I lose my temper. That’s more something my brother is rather infamous for, and if I took it out on anyone out there, for that I want to sincerely apologize. I just had hoped that I placed the majority of my being upset in the direction of who it was owed, but we don’t have to get into that bit of family drama. K and I will be fine. We always are and I just want things cleared between us and back to normal. But that’s personal, and this is business.”
“I do owe someone an apology; two people in fact. The first is obviously Hiamashii. I can honestly say that I couldn't have asked for a better person to test myself against in my very first match. I'm just sorry that things went the way they did and there couldn't have been a clean-cut win or loss against him without anyone's outside interference, whether it had been my brother's or GRIME.”
“The second is obviously Sierra Williams. I guess you could say that you were the innocent bystander in what happened between your tag team partner, my brother and myself. Your team lost despite your best efforts and through no fault of your own. I can't imagine how frustrating that must have been, but I am happy that Brooke Saxton solved it to name you as her official substitute in the tournament. Maybe it's fate or chance, I can never decide, that your Second Chance in This tournament is against the same team that cost you the opportunity to move forward in the first place. I guess that makes this a rematch between us, my very first one as an active competitor rather than just a spectator. And while I know that there can be no physical contact between yourself and me, as you support your tag team partner, I know that I have to support mine.”
“Mother Mavis has been nothing short of phenomenal. And while our viewpoints on life may not be eye to eye, inside of the ring she is nothing short of a valkyrie. A warrior up the battlefield according to our Norse beliefs that my brother and I live by. Mavis is still one of the SCU hardcore Tag Team Champions, despite taking time away from her duties down there to participate in this tournament as my partner for which I am grateful. Being a champion in this tournament only tells me that she excels in what she does, her craft is one that she takes seriously in the fact that it's a hardcore title? That speaks volumes on what lengths she is willing to put her body through in order to get the win. Luckily, these aren't hardcore matches. But she is no less an impressive and threatening competitor to have at my side and see me through this just as I'm ready and willing to stand at her side and go the entire distance.”
“ Sierra, you are one at the very best. Despite any misgivings you may have had recently, that is not flattery. It is simple respect. But I have a lot to prove now, and I want to go the entire way in this tournament and walk away the winner. And if that means handing your second team mate a second straight loss, then so be it. I won't apologize for wanting to win, but I will promise you that this time the circumstances will be entirely different.”
“I'm not even entirely certain where to begin with you, Teddy. On one hand, you are a former Roulette champion and that makes you somebody to respect inside of the Ring. On the other hand, the last time I saw you inside of the ring with a member of my family, you were wearing more makeup than a corpse in a funeral parlor and the women you had it ringside or doing more to win that match against my brother than you were! Actually, if I recall, the last time you were in the ring with a member of my family, Fenris left you pretty much comatose. Knocked you out and rendered you unable to continue.”
“So let me guess; you're going to go the clue route of using me as a means to an end. You were embarrassed by him, so you want revenge on me? You couldn't beat him, so you want to make yourself feel better by beating me? Am I getting warm? Well the good news is that this time, you're not against my brother. The bad news?”
“You're not against my brother. You see, Fenris has done it all, accomplished everything that he set out to do so he hasn't got anything left to prove. Me, not so much. I'm still getting my feet wet in the ring, and my brothers own actions the last time around just made me even more determined to win and to do it on my own.”
“I hesitate to say anything bad about anyone I might end up against. I'm a firm believer in that respect is a two way street and that if you want respect, you give it. But you? I can't honestly remember a time when you did anything to warrant someone's respect. You want it handed to you on a silver platter without having done anything to warn it. You treat women, especially your wife, with severe disregard like some second class citizen. And the me you're booked against? You treat even worse, as if that's possible. Like despite their success and statuses, they remain beneath you.”
“It really must be nice to go through life with your head perpetually in the clouds, Teddy. So I'll make you a deal. If you beat me, and do cleanly and without any help, you'll have my respect. If not, you'll have exposed yourself as the man so many accuse you of being, if you have to resort to cheating to beat a rookie. And if I win…?”
Aron hopped down off of the apron and started to step off-camera, but paused for one final time to add...
“Well, then you'll have a lot of explaining to do with Sierra, how the high and mighty Teddy Warren cost her the Semi-finals spot by losing to a rookie.”
