<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/beergarden.jpg" height=353 width=528>Dublin, Ireland -
Harcourt Hotel
The Harcourt Hotel was nestled in the heart of Dublin, Ireland, with the city's main attractions for tourists and locals alike being within walking distance, as well as being on the tram system. A convenient way to travel to Grafton Street, where Ireland's most exclusive shopping district as well as the Temple Bar area. Truth be told, Fenris hated shopping but the bar option? Now that intrigued him. There was an old world style to this hotel, Victorian or (Old English if you had to try and find a word for it. The decor certainly gave that impression to both brothers once they had walked into the lobby, and privately Kristjan had wondered what had entered Aron's mind to reserve this hotel for their stay in London.
But there was a method to Aron's madness, as Kristjan came to find out. There was a 1900 theme restaurant in the hotel, not to mention the DTwo bar and nightclub, and most importantly, an all-weather heated beer garden. Which was (surprise, surprise) where we found the reigning World Champion of Sin City Wrestling right now. Kristjan had been in a less than amicable mood for the past few weeks. Even his victory at Blaze of Glory VII had done little to calm his antagonistic mood, and the surroundings of this hotel had been his brother's effort to help bring him out of the distant funk he had found himself in as of late.
Fenris was seated at a table at the top of a small set of steps, in a corner by himself. Aron had tried to get his brother to accompany him for a little sight seeing but Kristjan had resisted. Aron would not go without his brother so Kristjan felt pressured into promising he would accompany him before they left Dublin for the next leg of this special tour SCW was taking part in. For now, Aron as off at one of the hotel's many gift shops, looking for souvenirs to send home to their parents and Freyja. When Aron had mentioned picking up a little something for their older sisters as well (you know, the two bitches), Kristjan had said "Fuck them!" but Aron argued reasonably well that if Freyja got something from them and Elin and Viktoria did not, they'd make life hell for their baby sister (and most likely their parents as well). So Fenris handed Aron an envelope stuffed with Euro to buy their family some mementos, while he relaxed here and waited for someone.
No, not Ty. Kristjan had wanted to talk to somebody impartial about some things that were on his mind, things that were troubling him (and by 'troubling him,' we mean 'pissing him off royally'), and there was just one person who was on this trip with the brothers to aid in Kristjan's training while Gabriel and Odette remained home in Las Vegas;
"Figures this is where you'd be waiting." The husky voice with the thick, Russian accent, belonged to none other than Maksym Petrov, the personal trainer to Fenris for all things MMA. With Gabriel and Odette remaining in Las Vegas, it would fall on Maksym to ensure their mutual charge was kept in fighting shape for this leg of the tour.
"I am nothing if not [predictable." Kristjan murmured as he lifted the mug of dark lager to his lips for a drink. Maksym nodded in agreement as he took a seat opposite of the man and nodded to a passing barmaid, "I'll have what he's having."
Maksym then turned to Kristjan who seemed about as distracted as he could be, despite the fact he had asked for this meeting. Maksym stared at him long enough before he tired of the game and asked, "So what is this about?"
"I just needed somebody to bitch to." Kristjan finally exhaled sharply. "Somebody who would just sit their and fucking listen and not try to tell me I'm imagining things or overreacting."
"To what?" Maksym frowned. "He had known Kristjan had been more irritable lately, more so than usual. It was actually Gabriel who had pointed it out to him."
Kristjan answered, "Just the shit that I've been hearing." Maksym rested back against the chair and nodded his thanks to the barmaid who set his mug of lager down in front of him before taking off to resume her other duties. He knew that Kristjan wasn't one to want to bare his soul, and wasn't much of a talker to start with. If he needed to share, then it must be a serious situation indeed.
"Someone impartial?" Maksym asked, to which Kristjan nodded. Maksym asked, "Why not talk to Ty? Or your brother?"
"Part of it involves Ty, and I don't want him getting upset about it all over again." Kristjan frowned, his eyes finding something fascinating absolutely nowhere, so long as he did not meet Maksym eye to eye. "And A?" Fenris huffed, but with a smirk. "He would be the one to say I am over reacting or imagining it."
"Gabriel?"
"I dump enough shit on his shoulders." Kristjan turned to finally look Maksym in the eye. "This goes beyond what he should have to deal with, with one of his students."
"What exactly are we talking about?" Maksym asked. "Are you pregnant?"
"No, I-NO!" He barked, and all Maksym could do was smile at having almost slipped that one past him. Kristjan paused for another drink when he finally said, "Just wondering where to go from here."
"I should think that would be obvious." Maksym offered. "You're the world champion. You've been the most dominant man they've had in SCW in some time."
"Yes but for how long?" Fenris asked. "I can't stay unbeaten forever. And when I do eventually lose the championship, I'm not altogether certain I'll even dignify a rematch."
To this, Maksym frowned and asked, "Why the hell not? It is customary for former champions to receive a rematch."
"Because I don't think I want it." Kristjan said. "Not after some of the shit that's been getting said lately. About me, about the title... about everything. I thought I'd been doing pretty damn good, representing SCW and fighting whoever the hell they laid out before me, before I laid them out...! But lately?"
Fenris shook his head.
"Lately I've been hearing whispers that I shouldn't be champion. That it's time for a change. I've had it long enough. Maybe I shouldn't have even been the champion to start with..."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Maksym asked hotly. "You earned this championship! Gabriel, Odette ... hell I'd like to think even I played a little part in your rising as fast as you did! I know your brother is pretty damn proud of you! Why the self doubt now?"
"I do not doubt myself." Kristjan stressed. "I could keep this title long enough to wipe J2H's record off the map..." He smirked and shook his head. "God what I wouldn't give to do that just to see his expression... but it's hard not to have these thoughts when people think I should never have won the title to start with. Nobody thought Courtney and I would win the tournament. Two rookies besting the entire experienced roster? Nobody thought it would happen. Then it did. Then I won the title and have been winning ever since! And all I've been hearing lately is the bitching and complaints!"
"Everybody hates a winner." Maksym smiled, but that just made Fenris roll his eyes.
"Obviously." He replied. "I don't ask for much. I defend against whoever they say. The only person I ever asked to wrestle was Ben Jordan. Been asking that since day one but that hasn't happened."
Maksym asked, "Hasn't he been hinting that he might accept soon?"
"Yeah." Fenris admitted." "But I'll believe it when I see it."
"And is that it?" Maksym asked, a frown on his own face. He knew there had to be more to it than this. For Kristjan to admittedly want to confide in someone, it had to be big. "Is this all that's bothering you?"
Kristjan just shook his head, but said nothing yet as Maksym took a deep draft of his own beer. He waited until Kristjan looked up at him and admitted, "I'm getting sick of the shit that's getting said about Ty and me. People saying Ty is only with me to further his own career! I admit he's one I wanted too defend my title against but Ty was the roulette champion at the time..."
"He isn't now." Maksym pointed out, to which Fenris scoffed and said, "Yes but can't you just hear my and his critics now? He gets a title shot and people say that it is all the evidence they need to say he's with me to advance his career. Or worse, accuse him of being another Crystal Zdunich! He's in a no-win situation."
"Granted." Maksym nodded, continuing to listen.
Kristjan sighed, "J2H was the loudest of all those accusing Ty of riding my coattails, but the minute I said something back about his woman, suddenly I get bitched at and complained to. People can say all the shit they want to about me or my man, but the minute I step up to defend myself or him, suddenly I'm</B. the bad guy!"
"And then..." Kristjan bit his lower lip, shaking his head and Maksym could see his student's complexion begin to darken. "... then there's the people who are saying my being with Ty is making me soft... soft! Like his good nature is rubbing off on me..."
"God forbid he make an honest man out of you." Maksym quipped, but the daggers shot his way told him the joke was a little ill-timed. He raised a hand and offered a humble "Sorry." And allowed Kristjan to continue.
"Apparently..." Kristjan drained the remainder of his glass and practically slammed it down on the table in his frustrated mental state. "...I am not allowed to be in a relationship that extends beyond the fucking bedroom! I can't be with someone that makes me remotely happy without being accused of going soft! When I was caught with Kristopher Ryans, nobody said shit! But when I go past the sex with Ty into an actual relationship, all these fucking armchair therapists are saying I'm going soft!"
Kristjan leaned an elbow on the table and leaned in closer to Maksym, "When Evie Baang was revealed to be Evie Jordan, did anyone accuse her of going soft? No. The whole damn business of wrestling seems to be a fucking treasure trove for match makers and nobody says shit! At least not until my name is mentioned. Then it's an altogether different story! I'm just the only one not allowed to be happy!"
"And are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Happy." Maksym stressed. "Is Ty making you happy."
"Yeah." Kristjan finally answered after several long moments to think and to contemplate. He then looked again to Maksym and smirked, "Shocking, isn't it?"
"Then fuck whoever says you shouldn't be happy or thinks being happy is making you soft or weak or whatever!" And this time, it was Maksym who leaned closer and pointed a finger at Fenris. "And fuck whoever thinks you shouldn't have that championship! If they think it should be taken off of you, then I say let them step up to the god damned plate and try!"
Kristjan smiled for the first time ion what seemed like forever, before he gave Maksym a nod an they raised their glasses in a silent toast.
"I never have been much of a fan of reruns or repeat performances."
Fenris stood in the hotel room he had shared with his brother for this trip, arms crossed over his bare chest and staring out into the night sky of Dublin. The lights shone brilliantly everywhere far below and across the city's landscape. He had went sight seeing earlier as promised to his brother, and soon he would be joining Aron, as well as Maksym and Ty, for an evening out; a bite to eat and perhaps a beer or two (or more).
Fenris looked over his shoulder and back to the camera and smirked.
"But this? This is something that I admit I am looking forward to very much. Austin James Mercer is one of the few who I have met inside of the ring and took me to the absolute limit, and even in defeat, the man still stood tall. The man acknowledged that I was the better man, and we had ourselves a hell of a match, did we not?"
He smiled and turned back away to look out again at Dublin.
"But oh how I love it when they come back for more! And Mercer is the first aside from Vinnie who has had the balls to want to get in the ring with me one on one more than once! Alex Jones and I are on the same page, wishing our title match at Blaze of Glory VII had been one on one, but there will be plenty of time for that. Hell! Caleb Storms didn't even want to get in the ring with me the first time and has been hoping someone -- anyone -- might dethrone me before he has the chance to possibly win the Blast From the Past or earn the title match another way."
"What say you, Austin? Are you going to give Caleb his heart's desire and be the first to put my shoulders down on the mat and give him another to face him in the future? I'm sure he wouldn't be the only one to breathe a sigh of relief if the defeat is at hand. There have been enough critics with their eye leaning my way, wanting a fresh face at the top of the mountain. Because apparently..."
Fenris finally turned around, placing his back to the patio and stari8ng directly into the camera.
"...Apparently I am stale. or my dominance has become such a threat they begin to wonder if anyone can wrest the world title from me!"
He shrugged, his face full of confused wonder.
"It's funny! I always assumed that a dominant champion was what this sport needed, or aspired to having! Someone who could or would be the heart and back bone of a company, not a round of men or women playing with the title like it's a hot potato, passing it from waist to waist on a god damned weekly basis! If a champion just drops the title they had just won, then the new champion loses it right away, what the hell does that say!? Huh!?"
"Wouldn't it speak ill of that side of the roster? Wouldn't people wonder if the championship was even worth holding onto if it seemed nobody wanted to hold onto it for any longer than necessary!? Then someone comes along, wins the championship~! They defend it against any and all comers, not turning away or avoiding a single name put in front of them, and still they -- I -- can't win!"
Fenris casts a glance off to the side of the camera, where the World Heavyweight title belt is set atop the night stand, beside the bed where he slept. His gaze then falls back on the camera and he points a forefinger into it.
"It's why I like you, Mercer. It's why when I was given the chance to defend against you a second time, I said FUCK YEAH! Only Vinnie met me one on one, more than once, for this championship, and now it's your turn."
He shook his head.
"You made no complaints when I kicked your head in and pinned you. You didn't even dignify making any excuses. You called me the better man and that was it. You said you'd earn your day in the sun and meet me again, and well... here we are!"
He spread his arms wide.
"No better way to begin this kick ass tour, than delivering another kick to that head of yours, and staying where I belong; at the top! The king of the mountain! Anybody who knows me, knows how damn much I love it when you beat the hell out of me because when I win, it just makes me that much stronger. I love the competition. And you, Mercer? You are the very definition of competition!"
He leaned in so close to the camera that his face practically filled the screen.
"So bring it!"
Black out
