The Celebration
Laughter bled from one room into the next, overlapping with the clink of cutlery and the low murmur of conversation that never quite settled. The smell of food, roast chicken, baked vegetables, something sweet and buttery, hung in the air like a warm blanket. Children darted between legs and furniture, their voices high and excited, while adults called after them half-heartedly, already resigned to the chaos.
It was imperfect.
It was crowded.
It was family.
Aiden stood just inside the living room, Cassandra asleep against his chest in a soft pink blanket, her tiny body rising and falling in a rhythm that still felt surreal. Every so often, someone leaned in to look at her, whispering comments about her nose, her hair, who she looked like. Aiden smiled politely, nodded, murmured thanks, but his focus never left the small weight in his arms.
She was real.
She was here.
Across the room, Kallie sat on the couch, surrounded by women, exhaustion etched into her features but softened by something deeper. Pride. Relief. Love. She caught Aiden’s eye for a moment, smiled gently, and gave the smallest nod, as if to say, we did it. He returned it, throat tightening.
After a while, Cassandra stirred, letting out a soft sound before settling again. Aiden adjusted his grip instinctively, rocking her slightly. Someone cracked a joke nearby. Someone else laughed too loudly. The noise swelled, and suddenly it felt like too much.
Aiden slipped away quietly.
The back door creaked as he stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around him like a grounding hand. The backyard was dim, lit only by a porch light and the faint glow from inside. He exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging as the noise dulled behind him.
He leaned against the railing, careful not to jostle Cassandra, eyes lifting toward the dark sky. His mind, as always lately, started to wander.
You’re a father again.
The thought landed with weight. Not fear this time, but responsibility. The kind that didn’t scare him as much as it used to. The kind that made him want to be better, not escape.
The door opened behind him.
“Thought I’d find you hiding out here.” Aiden didn’t turn immediately. He knew that voice. Younger. Sharper. Smug in a way that felt familiar and irritating all at once. He glanced over his shoulder to see Adam stepping outside, a beer already in his hand, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Figures,” Aiden muttered.
Adam leaned against the wall beside the door, eyes flicking to Cassandra, his expression softening just a fraction. “She’s cute,” he said. Then, inevitably, “Still looks like you though. Unfortunate.”
Aiden huffed a quiet laugh despite himself. “You always had a gift for kindness.”
Adam pushed off the wall and stepped closer, holding the beer out. “Here. You deserve one.”
Aiden shook his head immediately. “I’m good.”
Adam froze mid-motion, eyebrow arching. “Wow. Look at you. Fatherhood hit that fast?”
“I said I’m good.”
Adam pulled the beer back, taking a sip himself. “C’mon. One won’t kill you. Whole family’s inside pretending we aren’t all exhausted and stressed. It’s tradition.”
Aiden stared out into the yard again, jaw tightening. “I’m not drinking.”
Adam scoffed. “Jesus. You’d think I offered you crack.”
Aiden’s grip on Cassandra tightened slightlynot enough to disturb her, but enough to remind himself to stay steady. “I’m serious, Adam.” That finally got his attention.
Adam studied him for a moment, the smart-arse grin fading just a bit. “What, you on some cleanse now? Training thing?”
“No.” Aiden swallowed. “Life thing.”
Adam tilted his head. “Since when?” Aiden hesitated. He didn’t owe him an explanation. But something about the quiet, the night air, the weight of his daughter in his arms, it stripped away the urge to deflect.
“I don’t like who I become when I drink,” he said finally. “I don’t like how easy it is for me to use it as a way out.” Adam blinked once. Aiden continued, voice low. “I’ve spent enough nights convincing myself I deserve it. Enough mornings feeling like shit and pretending it didn’t matter. I don’t want my kids growing up thinking that’s normal.”
Adam opened his mouth, ready with something sarcastic, and then stopped. He took another sip, slower this time, eyes drifting away. “…Huh.”
Aiden glanced at him, surprised. “That’s it?”
Adam shrugged. “Didn’t expect you to say all that.” He looked back at Aiden. “You serious about it?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause. Then Adam nodded once. “Alright.” That was it. No teasing. No pressure. Just… acceptance. Aiden let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Adam leaned back against the railing, beer dangling loosely from his fingers. “You know,” he said after a moment, “people think pressure’s only a big brother thing. Oldest kid. First to screw up, first to get expectations dumped on them.”
Aiden glanced over. “You saying you don’t have pressure?”
Adam snorted. “I’m saying it’s different. Everyone looks at you like the example. Me? I get compared to you.” He smirked faintly. “And then I get reminded I’m not you.”
Aiden frowned. “That was never—”
“I know.” Adam waved it off. “Not your fault. But it’s there. In the ring, outside of it. People expect me to either be better or louder.” He took another drink. “So I’m louder.”
Aiden shifted slightly, Cassandra’s tiny hand curling near his chest. “That doesn’t mean you have to drown it out.”
Adam looked at him, surprised again. “You really did change.”
“Trying to,” Aiden corrected. Silence settled between them, not uncomfortable, just honest. Adam stared into the yard, voice quieter when he spoke again.
“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” he said. “Wrestling. Kids. Kallie. Everyone pretending you’re invincible.”
Aiden scoffed softly. “They should see me at three in the morning.”
Adam nodded. “Yeah. That’s the part no one claps for.” He glanced at Cassandra. “She’s lucky though.”
Aiden followed his gaze. “Why?”
“She’s got a dad who’s actually thinking about this stuff.” Adam shrugged.
Aiden turned fully toward him. “You alright?”
Adam shrugged again, but it wasn’t as dismissive this time. “I manage.” He hesitated. “Look… I give you shit because it’s easy. Because if I stop, I might have to admit I look up to you.” Aiden blinked. Adam grimaced. “Don’t make it weird mate”
Aiden smiled faintly. “Too late.” They stood there a moment longer, brothers in the quiet, bound by blood and shared history and unspoken understanding.
Adam finally pushed off the railing. “I’m proud of you,” he said, gruff. “For the kid. For the choices.”
Aiden nodded, emotion thick in his throat. “Thanks.”
Adam gestured toward the door. “C’mon. They’re gonna start wondering if we’re fighting.” Aiden glanced down at Cassandra once more, then back toward the warm glow of the house. The noise. The chaos. The family waiting inside.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Let’s go back in.” They headed inside together. And for the first time in a long while, Aiden didn’t feel like he was barely holding everything together. He felt present. He felt supported. He felt like maybe—just maybe—he was doing something right.
Line in the sand
”Merry Christmas, you filthy animals.”
Aiden rolls his wrists and then cracks his knuckles, shooting a small arrogant smile and shaking his head.
”A few weeks ago I went one on one with Ciaran Doyle. And I’ll be the first one to admit that he has talent. But he’s not ready yet. He’s not ready to climb to the same heights that some of us have reached. He’s not quite ready to be looked at as a future star. He could be. Someday. But not yet. This company needs to stop settling. Settling for average… it’s an epidemic. An epidemic of mediocrity. This company has a problem. They will look at someone who comes in like a shiny new toy, and if they have any type of success or hit the ground running, they will instantly start to push them towards greatness. They won’t let it happen organically.”
“They ruin talent. They do it by pushing people too hard and too fast, and then wondering why they don’t catch on and why they start to spiral. They put them against the best of the best, expecting these names to suddenly become stars, and then when they fail, they have no one else but themselves to blame.”
“They could ruin Ciaran…”
“A talent like him could end up circling down the drain all because head office thinks they can make some money off him by pushing him too fast and too soon. Instead of letting him face other new names or people who have slipped down the card with a few losses, they’re going to do stupid things like put him up against me. I’ve just come off of challenging for the world championship, and you’re gonna put this new guy in the ring against me? That is disrespectful and insulting to myself and Doyle. Both of us end up looking like absolute chumps because you people don’t know how to properly run a fucking company… so, as I said, everyone wants me to move on, and I have no idea how….”
Aiden scoffs and shakes his head, still annoyed.
”See, I am simply existing. Existing in the world of professional wrestling instead of thriving. And that is driving me insane. I can handle failure, I can handle success, but when I feel like I’m not moving forward or backward and I am simply here as part of the furniture, that is what is making every single part of me fire up and get pissed off. That is what is making it difficult for me to move on. So now what do I do? Where do I go from here? I failed time and time again to become the SCW World Champion, and until I’m able to become the champion, I’m just treading water. So there comes a time where you need to make a decision. Do you stay in the same place doing the same thing, expecting things to change, or do you take a chance and move on? Do you leave and try your hand somewhere else?”
“I’ve hit a wall here. A glass ceiling that I simply cannot break through. If you can’t become a champion, if you can’t become the best, then you need to look in the mirror and realise that it’s time to go. This is something that both of my opponents this week need to figure out. Both LJ and Liam. Two names who, much like myself, take two steps forward and then get hit with three steps back. But the difference between myself and those two is that I’ve reached heights that they never will. Neither of them are good enough to challenge for the world championship. Neither of them are good enough to earn that right. And while I’m not good enough to win the world championship, at least I got there. LJ? Liam? Neither of you have a chance at holding that championship, and the only time you are going to sniff that championship is in some kind of weird clusterfuck multi-man match that everyone is just thrown into to pop a rating or get a higher pay-per-view buy rate.”
“And to be perfectly honest, that is one of the saddest things of all. Especially for you, LJ. Because you have talent. You are the younger brother of someone who should’ve broken through a glass ceiling a long time ago, and I’m not going to take back anything I have said when it comes to your brother and the fact that he let his significant other essentially take his career. But you don’t have that problem. You and your significant other seem to push each other forward. You don’t have a toxic relationship where she is slowly sucking every single bit of talented relevancy out of you to the point where you no longer exist in the mainstream face of professional wrestling.”
“You just seem to fail on your own…”
“You have all the physical and mental tools to reach heights in this company that others only dream of, but you won’t. You won’t because there is a level above where you are. A level of competition above what you can reach. And it’s not anything personal against you. I’m not trying to say anything right now that is going to hurt your feelings, because shit, I am at that same level. I am sitting here looking up at the World Champion, and I know that I can’t get there. But as I said, at least I’ve challenged for that championship. At least I’ve stepped in the ring with the World Champion, and if I wanted to stick around in this goddamn company, I could do it again. But what’s the point, LJ? What is the fucking point of me staying here and constantly beating people like you and people like Liam and everyone else that they throw in front of me when I can’t get past that glass ceiling and become the goddamn World Champion?”
He shakes his head, feeling the anger rise up again.
”No matter how hard I try and no matter how hard I want it, it doesn’t mean a goddamn thing. See, LJ, it might just be my age showing, or it might just be the cynical nature of professional wrestling and the state that we are in, but I am getting too old to stick around in a company where I’m treading water. There are other companies out there and other places where I can have a fresh start, and this company doesn’t deserve me. Honestly? It doesn’t deserve you. A man of your talent could go to any number of companies and set the entire world on fire. A guy with your talent could go to another company, become the World Champion, and not get pushed back and punished for being talented but not being one of the golden boys that this company likes to be in love with. Like Carter.”
“But you won’t take that chance. You won’t leave to try and see if you can find greener pastures because you are tied here to Alexandra. And your brother. And Carter. You are tied to this company, and you are going to keep trying to succeed here despite yourself. But not me. Not now. I refuse to allow this company to take every last shred of respect that I had for myself. I refuse to let this company piss on my pride for the sake of keeping that little piece of shit as World Champion. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on you, LJ—far from it. I’m entering this triple threat match to beat the shit out of both you and Liam.”
“Liam…”
“The little police officer that could, huh?”
“What an absolute joke. Every single time I see you, Liam, I end up throwing up a little in my mouth. Not because I have anything against police officers or former police officers, but because you left a professional job where you had a pathway to success by simply existing and sticking around to enter the world of professional wrestling. Now, I don’t know what kind of cop you were. You could’ve been a really shit one. You could’ve been one of those cops who sits around at the doughnut shop just staring at women’s arses while you stuff your face full of pastry treats. Or you could’ve been one of the good ones who actually enforces laws and tries to keep people safe. I honestly don’t know.”
“I don’t care…”
He pauses and laughs.
”What I do care about is this business. What I do care about is what people do inside this business. Now, LJ got attacked by Bill Barnhardt in one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever seen. Who the hell gets beaten up by that fucking idiot? But you? You don’t have anything going for you. You simply exist in this business and in this company because you have nothing better to do and you failed at being a police officer. But me? I’m a professional wrestler, Liam. That is what I wanted to do from day one, and that is what I have been working towards as my profession and as my life’s work since I was a teenager.”
“I left home and travelled around the world to perfect my craft, and the fact that you’ve just come waltzing in and twirling your fucking handcuffs around and playing with your nightstick in public makes me sick. So now I’m getting in the ring with both of you, and both of you have everything to lose and everything to gain by getting a win. If you lose, then you’ve just proved everything I’ve said right. If you win, you’re able to get a win over someone who was challenging for the world championship until recently. I notice I only include a win over me as anything to fight for, because beating either of you two means nothing. So I’m in a situation where I have nothing to gain by walking out with my hand raised.”
“I’m in another lose-lose situation. I win and no one cares because me winning over either of you means nothing. I lose and I become an even bigger laughing stock than I am at the moment after losing to Carter time and time again. Saddle up, boys—this is gonna be a rough Christmas.”