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Roleplay Boards => Climax Control Roleplays => Topic started by: HBCarter on July 24, 2026, 08:57:13 PM

Title: You Left an Opening
Post by: HBCarter on July 24, 2026, 08:57:13 PM
Turnberry Towers
Las Vegas, Nevada


By the time the kids have arrived, Carter had cleaned the same section of the kitchen counter three times before Miles finally reached around him, took the cloth from his hand, and dropped it into the sink.

“It was clean twenty minutes ago.” Miles said.

“It had a streak.”

“It had light reflecting off it.” Miles shot back as he moved toward the front room where Kevin and Connor were busying themselves, arranging blankets across the sectional. The condo already looked better than it had any right to. The floors had been vacuumed, the coffee table cleared, the throw pillows straightened, and every object Carter thought might make the place look remotely embarrassing had been moved into the bedroom.

These were Kevin’s friends that were visiting. That made this important in a way Carter couldn’t quite explain without sounding ridiculous. Kevin had invited them into his home, and Carter wanted him to feel proud of that. He wanted every one of them to walk through the door and understand that Kevin belonged here.

Kevin glanced toward the kitchen. “Miles, is he okay?”

“He’s polishing the air now.” Connor observed.

“He’s fine.” Miles smiled at Kevin. “He just wants your friends to enjoy themselves.”

Carter returned to the dining table, which had been transformed into a snack station. There were bowls of barbecue chips, sour cream and onion chips, pretzels, cheese crackers, Kevin’s favorite Spicy Dill Doritos, popcorn, gummy bears, sour worms, peanut butter cups, chocolate-covered pretzels, and two different kinds of cookies. He had also added grapes, apple slices, baby carrots, and a tray of cheese and crackers because Miles had been the voice of reason and suggested that something on the table should possess nutritional value.

Connor wandered over and stared at the spread. “Are we watching movies or preparing to survive a siege?”

“Teenagers eat.” Carter said defensively.

Kevin added. “Just usually not our body weight in one afternoon.”

Carter opened the refrigerator and counted the cans again. Dr. Pepper, diet cola, lemon-lime soda, orange soda, root beer, nd three kinds of sparkling water nobody had requested but Carter had bought anyway. On the bottom shelf sat two cartons of chocolate milk.

He pointed at them. “Why did you insist we get chocolate milk?”

Kevin shrugged with the suspicious innocence of someone protecting information. “Someone likes it.”

Carter then looked toward Miles. “You made sure to order the pizzas ahead of time, right?”

“Yes.”

“And we ordered enough?”

“Four large pizzas, breadsticks, and enough food already sitting on that table to supply a small convention. We’ll be fine.” Miles approached and placed both hands on Carter’s shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. “Will you calm down?”

Carter looked genuinely troubled by the proposition. “These are Kevin’s friends!”

“It’s a teenager’s movie marathon.” Miles reasoned. “Not the Geneva Convention.”

“Teenagers are more judgmental than a bunch of old white men in government.”

The doorbell rang before Miles could answer. Kevin stood quickly, but Carter forced himself not to race him to the door. Hosting normally, he reminded himself, included not greeting sixteen-year-olds like visiting royal dignitaries.

Miles opened the door first. Micah Brooks stood at the front with a backpack over one shoulder and a slim camera case in his hand. Carter had met him at a school function and remembered how easily he spoke to adults, as though he had already decided they were worth including in the conversation.

“Mr. Kasey…” Micah greeted.

“Miles.” He corrected. “Come in.”

Riley Bennett swept in behind him carrying a sports bag and enough energy to change the pressure in the room. She greeted Miles with a quick hug before he had fully prepared for it, kicked off her shoes, and immediately asked, “Where are the snacks?”

Carter lifted a hand from the kitchen. “I like her.”

Hana Park entered last, balancing a tote bag, a sketchbook, and what appeared to be several carefully organized pens. She greeted Miles politely, then paused just inside the condo and looked toward the windows, the patterned light falling across the wall, and the plants Carter had crowded beside the glass.

Her gaze stayed there a second too long, as if she were committing it to memory to be sketched later.

Miles shut the door, turned around, and nearly collided with a girl standing directly behind him.

“Bloody hell! Where did you come from!?”

The girl calmly raised a bottle of chocolate milk to her lips, took a sip, and said, “Rumor has it the stork brought me.”

Kevin came over, already smiling. “That’s Mara. She’s our newest friend.”

Mara Ellison gave them a small nod, as if this introduction had satisfied every social obligation expected of her. Before Carter could welcome her, she had moved past Miles and joined the others.

The front room filled quickly. Riley dropped onto the sectional beside Connor and immediately stole part of his blanket. Hana settled near Micah, Kevin took the floor against the couch, and Mara appeared in the armchair Carter could have sworn had been empty a moment earlier.

Carter stood beside Miles near the kitchen and watched Kevin laugh at something Micah said. There was no carefulness in him, no glance toward either guardian to make sure he was behaving correctly. He looked relaxed, happy, and entirely at home in the middle of these teenagers.

Miles brushed his fingers against Carter’s wrist. The touch was brief, but Carter understood it. They had both noticed.

Carter cleared his throat. “So, how did you all meet Mara?”

Kevin glanced toward her. “One day she just appeared at the table we share at lunch.”

Connor nodded. “I thought she was Kevin’s friend.”

“I thought she was Connor’s.” Kevin replied, his youthful face glowing

Mara took another sip of chocolate milk. “You left an opening.”

Carter nodded as if that explained everything. He then turned to Miles and raised his eyebrows but Miles was just as perplexed.

After a brief tour of the condo, showing off Kevin’s bedroom and the gaming corner that almost lured Riley in against her will, the movie selections came out that each teen chose to share today. Kevin and Connor collectively presented Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves. Hana held up Howl’s Moving Castle. Riley had chosen The Mummy and announced that it contained “adventure, excellent hair, and important educational information about why you shouldn’t read ancient books aloud.”

Micah produced When a Stranger Calls Back, describing it as restrained, unsettling, and built on atmosphere instead of gore. Carter appreciated the explanation, although not the possibility of being unsettled inside his own home.

Perhaps surprising her friends, Mara held up the animated Lilo & Stitch and Carter gasped and gripped Miles’s shoulder. “Oh, you have excellent taste!”

Miles leaned toward Kevin. “She just scored brownie points with Carter.”

That was when Ms. Thang chose to wander through the front room, alerting everyone to her presence. Riley made a sound so high that Carter briefly thought something had broken.

“Kitty!”

She leaned down with both hands extended. Ms. Thang stopped, assessed her enthusiasm, and fled toward the hallway!

Riley stared after her. “She loves me!”

“She left so fast she nearly became a blur?” Hana said.

“She’s overwhelmed by our connection.”

The marathon began with Dungeons & Dragons. Carter and Miles didn’t hover, although Carter discovered there was a fine distinction between hovering and finding repeated reasons to enter the room. He refilled popcorn, collected empty soda cans, brought napkins nobody had asked for, and stopped long enough to laugh whenever the movie pulled him in.

Kevin and Connor quoted lines at each other and argued over which character had the best plan despite agreeing that none of them had good plans. Carter caught himself watching Kevin more than the screen. Every time Connor leaned against him or Kevin laughed without restraint, something in Carter loosened.

During Howl’s Moving Castle, Hana became more animated. She pointed out color choices, backgrounds, and small visual details the others might have missed. When Carter passed behind the couch, he noticed her sketchbook open across her knees. She had drawn the condo windows and the cluster of plants beside them, but altered the shapes until the ordinary corner looked enchanted.

“That’s our wall?” he asked quietly.

“It started as your wall.”

Carter studied it with honest interest. “I like your version better.”

She looked down quickly, but not before he saw the pleased curve at the corner of her mouth.

Riley’s selection followed. She had made herself completely at home by then. Her feet were under Connor’s blanket and she had located the extra pillows without asking. She reacted to The Mummy with her entire body, cheering during fights, criticizing avoidable decisions, and insisting she would survive every dangerous situation through “superior goalkeeper reflexes.”

“You’d be the one to read the book aloud.” Micah said.

Later, Carter brought in fresh drinks and found Riley digging through the snack bowls with complete confidence.

“You settling in all right?” He asked.

She looked around, a handful of gummy worms in one palm. “There are snacks, movies, and air-conditioning. I live here now.”

Carter nodded solemnly. “Miles will be thrilled to learn we’ve acquired another teenager.”

By early evening, the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the pizzas. Carter helped Miles carry four boxes to the dining table: classic pepperoni, plain cheese, meat lovers, and a vegetable pizza with mushrooms, peppers, onions, and olives. Breadsticks and dipping sauces filled the remaining space.

The teenagers descended with the speed of people who had spent the entire afternoon claiming they weren’t hungry while steadily consuming snacks. Riley, Kevin, Connor, Hana, and Micah returned to the front room with paper plates balanced on their knees.

Mara sat alone at the dining table.

Carter noticed while reaching for a slice of pepperoni. His first instinct was to ask whether she was all right, whether someone had upset her, whether she wanted to join the others. Then he looked at her more carefully.

Mara sat comfortably with one foot hooked around the chair leg, eating pizza and watching the movement in the front room. She had chosen the table because she wanted the table. Where she came from, the dining room was where dinner was eaten. Simple as.

Carter placed two slices on his plate and sat down across from her.

She looked at him. “Did they exile you?”

“No. I’m avoiding Riley before she formally claims the condo.”

“A reasonable concern.”

After a few bites, he gestured toward the refrigerator. “Do you want a soda with your pizza?”

Mara lifted her bottle. “I have my chocolate milk.”

Carter slowly turned his head toward Miles, who had just approached with his own plate.

“Oh, THAT’S why!”

Miles looked from the cartons in the refrigerator to Mara’s bottle and laughed. “Mystery solved!”

He pulled out the chair beside Carter and sat down. For a while, the three of them ate together while the others argued from the front room about whether Riley had taken the last breadstick. Mara didn’t need drawing out, and Carter didn’t treat her silence as a problem he had to solve.

When they returned to the marathon, Micah introduced When a Stranger Calls Back with the seriousness of someone presenting a film at a festival. Carter stood behind the couch for part of it, arms folded, while Micah quietly explained how the movie used empty space and stillness.

“It makes you look where nothing’s happening!” Micah said. “Then you start doing the work for it. You imagine what could be there!”

The room grew steadily quieter as the tension from the movie built. Even Riley stopped commenting. In the middle of one painfully still scene, Ms. Thang jumped onto the back of the sectional from behind them and chaos ensued!

Kevin shouted! Connor jerked hard enough to spill popcorn! Hana shrieked and grabbed Micah’s arm, Riley nearly launched a pillow across the room, and Carter made a sound he would later deny producing!

Mara just blinked once.

And Miles? Miles saw it coming from a mile away and was trembling from holding in the laughter.

Ms. Thang walked across the back cushions, pleased with the attention, and settled behind Kevin’s head.

The final movie began after the lights had been turned lower and everyone had recovered what remained of their dignity. Mara’s choice changed the room immediately. Lilo & Stitch drew laughter from all of them, but it also softened the group in ways Carter noticed without pointing it out.

Riley went quiet during the lonelier moments. Hana leaned against Micah. Connor’s hand found Kevin’s beneath the blanket. Mara sat on the floor near the coffee table, her chocolate milk beside her and Ms. Thang watching from a cautious distance.

Carter and Miles stood together near the kitchen during the final scenes. Carter felt tired in the satisfying way that came after a house had been used well. There were empty cans on tables, crumbs in the rug, art pens beneath a chair, cables near the wall, and a sports bag Riley had nearly forgotten twice.

The condo looked lived in.

By the time the credits rolled, it was late enough that Carter and Miles divided the drives home between them. Riley called the front seat in Carter’s car before anyone else had put on shoes. Hana carefully packed her sketchbook, Micah checked three times for memory cards he hadn’t used, and Mara appeared beside the door wearing her backpack without Carter seeing her cross the room.

He pointed at her. “You keep doing that.”

“Moving?”

“Materializing.”

“I use the spaces people leave.”

Kevin laughed from beside Connor. Carter looked at him, surrounded by friends gathering their things and arguing about who had chosen the best movie. Kevin caught his eye and smiled, small but unmistakably grateful. Carter didn’t ask whether the day had gone well. He didn’t need to.

As the teenagers spilled into the hallway, Riley talking over everyone and Mara quietly finishing the last of her chocolate milk, Miles locked the condo behind them. Carter waited beside the elevator with Kevin and Connor, already thinking about the next time.

The first visit had left the place messier, louder, and considerably emptier of food than he had planned. It had also made it feel more like home.




"Let’s talk about a little something called respect, because that word gets thrown around so much in wrestling that sometimes it stops meaning anything. Real respect is rare in this business, and honestly, that should not surprise anybody."

"This is still every person for themselves. You can have friends and people you trust, but when the bell rings, everybody wants the same things. They want championships. They want the same spotlight you're in. To put it simply? They want the same place at the top that you do and they'll go through you if they have to in order to get ALL of the above! The truth is, that there is always somebody waiting for you to slip, because your perch looks better when they imagine themselves sitting on it."

"That is why I don't hand out respect just because somebody signs a contract, walks through the door, and starts talking loud. Respect is earned by what you do, how you carry yourself, and whether your words still mean something after somebody punches you in the mouth or hits you over the head with a steel folding chair."

"Which brings me to Zayvion Lyons, the literal Young Lyon of SCW. From the moment he arrived, people were already trying to decide who he was supposed to be before giving him the chance to show them."

"Some people thought Zayvion came here to take Eddie Lyons’s place. That was never possible, because nobody can take Eddie’s place, and I do not mean that as an insult to Zayvion. Eddie made his own mark here, and Zayvion never tried to inherit it. Zayvion took nobody’s place, because he found his own opening and started forging something that belonged to him."

"That alone made him different from most newcomers. Usually, some guy walks into a new company, whips it out, and immediately starts trying to measure it against every other man in the vicinity. Suddenly every champion is overrated, every veteran is washed up, and everybody is supposed to feel lucky this new gift to wrestling finally arrived. We have all heard that speech, usually from somebody who has not earned the right to give it."

"Zayvion didn't waste his time with that kind of pissing contest. He walked in with confidence. He gave credit where it was due. He laid into people when they deserved it and respected those who had been here before him. He never once acted like acknowledging somebody else’s work somehow made his own worth any less. He saw the difference between people that earned their fame from those that stole it."

"There is a difference between showing respect and showing fear. Zayvion has never struck me as afraid of anybody."

"Then he proved he belonged by winning the Roulette Championship. His reign didn't last as long as he wanted or how long most of us expected, but that does not take a damn thing away from what he accomplished when he beat Logan from pillar to post to take the title."

"People love dismissing shorter title reigns as though winning the championship suddenly does not count. You still had to beat the champion, handle the pressure, and be the better man when the opportunity was right in front of you."

"Zayvion did exactly that. He became a champion in SCW, and I believe without question that he will wear championship gold again. I do not know when it will happen or which championship he will take, but nobody holding gold gets to ignore him. Ryan Keys is not safe, LJ Kasey is not safe, and Alexander Raven at the top of the mountain is not safe either."

"The Young Lyon can climb that high. Anybody who watched him come this far and still believes otherwise hasn't been paying attention."

"Now, I know how this sounds. Wrestlers love building up their opponents so they have an excuse waiting if the match goes badly but that is not what I'm doing. I don' need to manufacture reasons why Zayvion might beat me. He's talented, hungry, quick, and already knows what it feels like to have championship gold around his waist. That makes him dangerous in a different way. He is not chasing an idea anymore, because he has felt the weight of holding a championship and wants to experience it again. I know from experience that in this business? There's nothing more dangerous than a former champion who wants to be on top again!"

"But here's the thing about Zayvion. He's also learned how quickly it can all disappear. Some people crumble after that lesson, but Zayvion looks like the kind of man who gets focused and starts climbing again. He didn't let that one loss take anything away from what he did. he just hit factory reset and started again!"

"But this is where respect stops sounding too friendly between a couple of guys who are about to lay into one another. I can respect Zayvion, believe in his future, and still plan on putting him flat on his back. I can believe he will become a champion again while making damn sure he does not get there by stepping over me. Respect doesn't mean I move aside or take it easy. It means I understand what kind of fight I am walking into. It means I cannot get careless or assume that experience alone is going to carry me through."

"Zayvion is a threat to every man in SCW, and I am not too proud to include myself in that statement. The difference is that I have made a career out of dealing with threats. I have faced men who were bigger, stronger, faster, meaner, and convinced they had already figured me out. Some beat me, and I will admit that without blinking, but none of them walked away thinking I was easy."

"So yes, Zayvion, you have my respect. You earned it by refusing to be anybody’s replacement, creating your own identity, and carrying yourself like somebody who belongs here. But do not mistake respect for mercy. I can shake your hand when this is over, but until that final bell rings, I am going to treat you like exactly what you are."

"You are a threat, and I deal with threats for a living. So, with all due respect, let’s light this bitch up, shall we?"