Wednesday
Snow in Las Vegas. Who would have imagined? Nobody who called the City of Sin home, that's for certain! And those tourists who came here dressed for the warm weather a desert oasis offered, or at least what they assumed it offered, they now found themselves huddled up by the furnaces in their hotels or hurriedly shopping for warmer attire so that their vacations might continue. In all actuality, it had been roughly ten years since Las Vegas had seen any credible snowfall on its streets, but here it was; cascading down from the gray, overcast sky and to the city streets below. It was well into the evening, the sun hidden back behind the cloak of clouds overhead yet not having fully descended to allow the night sky to rise in its wake.
It was hardly what one might call a blinding flurry falling from above, but judging by the reactions from those in the city, you might expect it to be so! People bundled up in their winter's best, or as close to it as they could come, hurried along on the famed Strip, moving from one destination to another. Clark County School District had already come to the decision to cancel classes for the following day, such was the forecast. More snow was to come overnight and into Thursday. Some flights at McCarran International Airport had even been canceled or postponed due to the freezing, wet weather.
"Pussies." Kristjan Baltasarsson muttered in his native Icelandic as he sat on the patio of the fifth floor condo he shared with his brother and, for now, still Dani Weston, at Turnberry Towers. Where some people preferred the sun shining and clear blue skies to go along with it, this was more to Kristjan's liking. The gray skies, the snow and earlier this morning, the freezing rain.
It reminded him much of home in Iceland.
So much was his comfort that he was not deigning to wear even the remotest of winter attire. No sweater or thick jacket. Instead he basked in the chill he deemed "brisk at best," clad in his simple comfort clothes he tended to wear around the homestead when he had nothing to do and nowhere to go. Muscle shirt, pajama pants, and he would ordinarily have gone barefoot but both his brother and Dani practically wrestled him into a pair of slippers at the very least. Aron was insistent, knowing his brother made for the absolutely worse patient in human history. Every joke, every stereotype of the typical man and how he acted when under the weather? That was Kristjan, according to Aron! His brother, the biggest, toughest mug you could ever meet, became the biggest baby when he was ill. So Aron, and by proxy Dani, had to avoid that at all cost.
"What was that?" Dani asked from the chair opposite him on the patio. despite her teasing and "busting his chops," Dani had not yet moved out as she was wont to do. She really wanted to be on her own, and believed that she had imposed on the brothers Baltasarsson long enough. Aron was such a good natured soul that he didn't mind one bit, and Kristjan? He was not reacting well to the idea of Dani finally moving out and getting a place to call her own. Just go getting him to admit it.
And as punishment for her teasing, Kristjan had pegged her to keep him company outside while they enjoyed the snowfall. And unlike Kristjan, Dani was bundled up against the frigid temperatures that continued to lower as time passed and the evening grew darker. She wore both a sweater and sweat pants, and borrowed (confiscated) Aron's comforter on the sofa to cover up with. That and a certain white Siberian husky being curled up against her shins and feet had her feeling relatively comfortable in this wet and unusual weather.
Aron would join them later, but he was busying himself in his bedroom, working on some details for a couple of personal appearances for Kristjan as the SCW Heavyweight Champion of the World. There were only so many things Kristjan would agree to do; an interview, a web broadcast, meetings with fans and the like. But as the world champion in one of the hottest indy promotions in the business, it was a necessary burden to bear.
"Nothing." Kristjan finally answered her, shaking his head. He still has his moments where he slips back into Icelandic when he's around those who do not speak the language. It was simply natural as his English was still not very good and it was just easier for him to speak in his own tongue. He continued, "Just can't believe the way people are acting. Like they never see snow."
"Well, they really don't." Dani reasoned with her buddy, knowing that snow and ice was something Kristjan would take for granted considering where he was from. It would be like someone from Florida being amazed at experiencing sunshine and warm temperatures. She then paused, contemplating, before she continued with her train of thought, "Well, the people who live here at least. The snowbirds are probably used to it but just weren't expecting it."
She glanced up, picking up her mug of steaming hot chocolate (with those little mini marshmallows!) to find his stare on her, his brow knitted into a frown as his lips seemed to be attempting to decipher something.
"Snow .... birds?" He shook his head. "If do not know this phrase."
"It just means people from cold climates who come to warmer climates to stay on vacations during the winter." Dani tried her best to explain so he might understand, even with the natural language barrier between them. She followed up with, "Then when summer comes, they go back home."
Kristjan nodded, although Dani had a reason to suspect that he still did not understand. At least, not completely. It looked like he might ask for some sort of clarification when they heard voices from the floor below....
"If can't believe you!"
"What is your fucking problem this time!?"
"You! You are my problem!"
Kristjan cast a sidelong glance at Dani and she saw a wicked little grin etch itself on his face. Now she knew why he had been so gung ho on sitting outside. It wasn't about the snow that reminded him of home. Well, not entirely. The neighbors in the flat directly below them had started recently to have some pretty good (and loud) arguments that got heated, and Kristjan had found it highly entertaining to listen in and amuse himself.
Dani shook her head, "Really, Kristjan...?"
But he silenced her with a coy finger to his own lips in a universal sign for "quiet, please" and he reached over to the small, oval table between them and picked up his own steaming mug. But unlike Dani who had cocoa, Fenris had mulled wine. Now under ordinary circumstances, he found wine a drink for sissies or just weak, but when it was hot and prepared right such as now, it was the perfect drink to accompany both the weather and some home theater, if you would.
"What the hell did If do this time Lynette!?"
"If asked you to pick me up one little thing at the store on your way home and you didn't do it!"
"It was fucking snowing, Lynette! People were driving nuts! If just wanted to get home!"
"Oh that's some excuse!"
"Then why the hell didn't you go? It's not like you had anything to do! At least If have a job!"
Dani cringed at that shot, but Kristjan pursed his lip and gave her a thumbs up, as though he approved. He downed a swallow of his mulled wine, and perhaps it went down the wrong pipe because he started coughing. Kyssa glanced up, and Dani was about to ask if he was alright, but he held a hand up and shook his head, warding off any show of concern. He set his mug back down and leaned over at the side so he might continue to listen and be entertained.
"If can't believe you, Kevin! You actually expect me to go out driving in weather like this!?"
"Oh but it's alright for you to want me to do it for you???"
"What a bitch..." Kristjan muttered, much to Dani's amusement. Ever since there was a recent outbreak in arguments with these younger tenants, Kristjan had developed some morbid fascination with listening in on the details. When prodded, he told them it was better than cable TV. When Aron joked he was worse than a couple of church ladies gossiping on a Sunday afternoon, it took Dani almost twenty minutes to pry his head loose from the bathroom cupboard drawer without damaging it -- and that was with the use of the canola oil!
God, how she was going to miss these two when she spread her wings and flew the nest.
"You are so selfish, Kevin! I wasn't asking much!"
"I'm selfish!? You wanted me to risk getting into an accident in this weather just to buy you some goddamn Red Hots!"
At that exchange, Dani and Kristjan both cringed and looked to one another, silently asking the other 'what the fuck?' Then the arguing continued but took on a different turn.
"Give me the remote, Kevin! I want to watch my show!"
"Forget it! We watched your show last night! It's my turn!"
"That's not fair! My show left on a cliffhanger! I have to know what happens!"
"So read about it online! I pay the fucking bill, Lynette! We're going to watch what I want to watch for once!"
"GIVE ME THE GOD DAMN REMOTE!!!"
"Alright, here!"
There was the slight sound of something hitting the patio below them, and Dani and Kristjan just assumed, without looking, that the mysterious Kevin just tossed the remote to their TV out onto their own patio.
"You are so fucking immature, Kevin! I...HEY!"
Then a door slammed downstairs, and the neighbor Lynette started screeching at high volume and pounding on the patio door.
"Open this fucking door Kevin! You open this door this instant!"
Kristjan suddenly fell back against the back rest of his chair and roared in laughter, pumping a fist in honor of all the husbands and boyfriends of the world who had been thrown out of their own home by girlfriends or wives, even if the home was bought and paid for by the boyfriend or husband themselves! Somewhere out there, at this very moment, the men of the house were taking a little extra bit of the blanket.
Just then, at that moment, there was to be a brief intermission in the entertainment as the patio door to their own home slid open and Aron stepped out, he too dressed casually as the cold weather did not bother him any more than it did his brother. Except at least Aron was wearing shoes.
He asked, "What are you two...?" But he then heard the sound of the downstairs neighbor, Lynette, screaming bloody murder to be let back inside and Aron exhaled. "Of course." He nodded, glancing casually at the watch he wore on his left wrist. "The evening show, right on schedule."
"How do they not get in trouble?" Dani wondered with wide eyes, her question for both brothers. "Hasn't anyone reported this?"
Aron answered, "A lot of people have complained to the management of this place, but they own their condo, just like we own this one." Behind Aron's back, Kristjan jetted a thumb toward himself and mouthed silently to Dani 'I own this one.' But Aron rolled his eyes, knowing his brother well enough. He said, "Point is, unless the cops get called, there's not a whole lot the management of the Towers can or will do."
"But they fight at all hours of the night!" Dani exclaimed.
"They're not any louder than the noise K here makes when Ty stays over." Aron quips with a smile, to which Dani thinks for a moment, then nods in agreement. Poor Kristjan looks back and forth between them, his eyes just screaming intensity at their quips at his expense, but before he could say or do anything to either of them, Aron held up his iPad and announced, "Just got a text from Mark Ward. Got your next match."
"You're shitting me." Kristjan grabbed his mug of mulled wine and leaned against the arm rest of his chair. "It's about fucking time! They haven't booked me since my match with Mercer and that was the start of the month!" He took a drink from the mug, then asked, "So who am I defending against this time?"
"No one."
Kristjan paused, about to put his mug back down when Aron answered him. He slowly turned his head and arched a brow. "No one?" He inferred. "I thought you said I had a match."
"You do." Aron explained. "You're just not defending your championship."
"A tag team match?" Dani asked, genuinely curious.
"No, a singles match." Aron answered her before he returned his attention to his inquisitive brother who seemed to be growing more visibly annoyed by the passing moment. He went on, "Against Caleb Storms, actually. You remember him? You wrestled during last year's Blast From the Past." He frowned for a moment. "Your second match, I think?"
Kristjan nodded, "I remember. Quick kid, loves that crazy shit; flying and jumping and diving."
"That's the guy." Aron pointed at him with a forefinger. "Probably the best aerial wrestler in SCW right now."
"And he won the Roulette title last year." Dani offered.
"`Kay. Good wrestler. Held a title?" Kristjan shrugged. "So why am I not defending the title against him?"
"They didn't say." Aron answered helplessly. "It's just classified as a non-title match."
"Fuck's sake...!" Kristjan fumed, almost kicking over the table that had his and Dani's drinks sitting on it, but for once in his life, he showed a little restraint. He probably just didn't want to waste any liquor, that's all. Aron understood his brother's annoyance; from the moment he first entered this business and heard about a little something called a non-title match, Kristjan called bullshit. He believed, and it showed his standing as a man and a champion, that any time a champion competed in the ring, their title should be on the line. No excuses.
"Well..." Dani fidgeted, hunching her shoulders. "At least of Caleb wins, you will still be champion?"
Both brothers turn to her and her cheeks immediately flush at Kristjan's expression for anyone even remotely hinting that he could or would lose this match.
"Sorry!" She hurriedly added to mollify the volatile of the two siblings.
"You okay?" Aron asked his brother, and Kristjan ran a hand down his face in silent frustration before he snatched hold of his mug and quickly drained it of its contents.
"Fine." He hissed. "Just fucking peachy!"
Aron started to go back inside when his brother caught his attention, standing up and leaning over the edge of their patio where Kristjan shouted at the downstairs neighbors, "SHOUT LOUDER! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!"
"Hey man!" Came the female's voice from down below. "Fuck you!"
"No, fuck you!" Bellowed Kristjan in return.
Aron leaned over to look past Kristjan and toward Dani, "If think we better get him inside."
Dani, eyes wide from the impending confrontation, hurriedly agreed and she and Aron quickly grabbed him by the arms and escorted him toward the open patio door as Kyssa hurried past them to enter first.
"It's for your own good, K." Reasoned Aron. "Yes!" Dani quickly piped up. "WE don't want you getting sick wearing those skimpy slippers."
I. Do. Not. Get. Sick!" Kristjan shouted, just as the patio door slid shut.
Friday
Kristjan was a pitiful sight, buried beneath the covers of his bed with a virtual mountain of pillows under his head and propping him up in a seated position. His brow was glistening from sweating out the sickness, their mother's prescription. His flesh was flushed, nose runny and eyes tired and watery. A dinner tray was straddling across his lap with the tattered remnants of crackers, soup and orange juice -- and a bell in his hand. Vicks vapo rub on his chest, a humidifier running on high....
And a bell that Dani had made the grievous error in judgment in giving him in case he needed something, anything -- but how could she have known!? Kristjan rang the bell as hard as he could, trying to draw the attention of those who were actually standing outside of his closed bedroom door, all wearing expressions of concern.
Not for Kristjan's well being, well not entirely. But more so for the living hell they've all been put through over the last twenty four plus hours since the cold struck Kristjan full force.... Aron, Dani and Lora West. Lora would not allow Ty to enter the premises for fear of her beloved nephew catching whatever Kristjan had, despite Ty's adamant objections.
"Who's turn is it?" Dani asked as the bell grew louder and now he was starting to shout for them in Icelandic.
Aron looked at Dani and said, "You go!"
Dani shook her head, steadfastly refusing and she pointed back toward him and replied, "Uh uh! You go!"
Aron shook his head, "Uh uh! She goes!" And before Lora could say anything to voice or raise an objection, Dani opened the bedroom door and Aron pushed her inside.....
Gabriel and Odette's Gym
Not in the gym section where one might find any of Gabriel and Odette's students honing their skills to razor sharp perfection. Nor where you might find any new faces seeking to break into the scene by learning from the Stevens' wisdom and experience. No, this time if you move further into the building and past the workout equipment and wrestling rings, you'll find a classroom setting behind closed doors. It would be here where Gabriel and Odette, and sometimes someone like Synn perhaps, would talk at length to their students about the inner workings of the sport, all the better to warn and prepare them for what might come.
On the large, plasma screen television set up against the back wall, the airing of one of Despayre's matches was currently being played. Aside from Caleb, Despayre was perhaps one of the most daring aerial wrestlers ever signed to Sin City Wrestling, and what better way to learn how to counter such death defying tactics than by studying those who specialized in it.
As the match continued on, and Despayre did some sort of handspring cartwheel OVER the ropes and crashing into his opponent on the outside, we find Fenris watching from one of the desks stationed in short rows along the room. His blue eyes were glued to the match proceedings, his brow knitted as he silently pondered to himself, "How, and why?"
"Caleb Storms. It's been a long time, hasn't it? April 22 of 2018, if I'm not mistaken? The Blast From the Past tournament, where I was teamed with Courtney Pierce, and you had the Roulette Champion Sam Marlowe in your corner. And while you had more experience going into this match, it was only the second time I had ever set foot inside of the ring. And look at where I am now."
Fenris stood up and moved from behind the desk where he proceeded to eject the DVD of the match he had been watching, and reached for another. On a flat table surface was a small stack of videos he had asked for studying purposes, and the vast majority of them had "Caleb Storms" etched on the surface, with only a few more with Despayre's own name. After all, he trained regularly with the speedy little grappler. He learned more in those frustrating sessions than he could watching his entire career history.
No, this was about Caleb, and thus the next disc he inserted into the player was one of Caleb's own. Fenris then sat back down as the video started to play, and his eyes never strayed far from the screen.
"Granted, that match didn't go the way I had wanted. True, my team did advance, but it was Courtney who defeated Sam Marlowe. The decision was not made between you and I. And why? You tagged out."
Fenris shook his head.
"Can't deny it. You're a fast fucker. Aside from Gabriel's friend Despayre, you're the fastest I've seen in the ring. I thought If had you down at the time. I thought If was in control. You proved me wrong. You got away from me. You knew you were in trouble and so..."
He held his arms out and shrugged.
"You tagged out, and kept me from getting my first win. And that -- that Caleb, is why I'm glad this match got signed. 308 days. Almost a full year since the last time we met, and I'd like to think we've both done relatively well for ourselves. You won the Roulette Championship, and I'm the World Champion since July of last year. You and I? We've grown, we've evolved ... but that one time, that one moment... it still nags at me Caleb, you know? It's why this is such a fortuitous moment. For me, at least. Because unlike the last time, you don't have anybody in your corner that you can tag out to. It's just you and me, and this time I've learned not to lose touch with the man I have down on the mat. Not give him time to get distance between us. Focus and intensity..."
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
"...Ohh that I have learned to excel at, and I have the Stevens family to thank for that. You? You should probably send them a fruit basket or something if you have a like mind. Or they might send you a condolence card. Ever since this match got announced, you've shown your hand. You've shown you're actually a pretty sharp man, expressing concern and rightly so. But far be it from me to just think I'll waltz past this match with little to no effort."
"It's like I said, you've tasted championship gold. You know what it feels like to celebrate and feel good to wear that belt around your waist. Anyone who has experienced that in SCW, given the level of competition, is good inside of the ring. They have to be, in order to be a champion! But all the aerial moves in the world, no matter how impressive or death defying they may be, is going to help end this match in any other way than for my hand to get raised -- again."
"Your mistake was your public concern. A wolf can smell fear a mile away. Gabriel had wondered if you might be trying to lull me into a false sense of security but...."
He shook his head.
"I doubt that you're that good of an actor. So I'll tell you what. I like you. I hold no grudges, so I'll do my best to make this as quick as possible. And after? Drinks are on me. You'd have earned it."
