The Golden Coast Casino
August 30th, 2017
[Off Camera]

“19” the casino dealer announces as he flips over a card, revealing a king of club. He adds it to the already showing nine of hearts in front of Ryan.

Ryan mindlessly draws circles with his wrist, swirling the ice cubes around in his tumbler of whiskey. He slightly bites down on his bottom lip and furrows his brow, as He pretends to study the cards on the table for a moment or two.

In all actuality, Ryan doesn’t even need to give the cards a second glance. He knows exactly what’s going to happen. Chalk it up to years of refining his skills in his home state. Game after game. Casino after casino. There simply isn’t a blackjack table from Vegas to Atlantic City that Ryan hasn’t owned at one point or another.

It isn’t card counting. No, that would be too easy to detect. And besides, Ryan doesn’t need to resort to the standard tricks of the trade. Not when he has his own set of skills. Some say there’s inherited, though he won’t believe it. Of course, it’s not 100% percent accurate. Nothing in life, as Ryan has painfully come to learn, is. But through hours and hours of migraine-inducing practice, he can show off some incredible skill.

Ryan lets out an elongated sigh and runs his hands through his slicked back, short, choppy locks, taking the extra precaution not to get his bulky silver rings stuck as he does. He then looks up at the dealer and with an ever so slight hesitation, taps his fingers on top of his cards.

The dealer reads the signal with a mild sense of shock. “You sure?”

Ryan nods and takes a long sip of his whiskey. “As I’ll ever be.”

With those words, the dealer flips over another card, revealing the two of spades. “Blackjack.”

A small, but noticeable smirk crawls across Ryan’s lips as He gives the signal to hold. He doesn’t need to see the dealer’s hand. Ryan already knows He’s won.

The dealer proceeds to flip over his second card, five of hearts. “Five of hearts. Dealer has 17.”

Ryan takes a moment, as the dealer counts out a neat stack of $100 chips, to readjust his sleeves of his black leather motorcycle jacket.

He grabs a random chip off of the vast pile before his and begins to dance it between his fingers. Back and forth and back again.

One more hand. Just one more before the shift change.

Ryan closes his eyes for a brief moment and downs the rest of his whiskey with one, hard swig. It burns its way down the back of his throat, dulling the array of emotions bubbling just beneath the surface.

Just one more hand before He’ll come face to face with--

CLAP.

Ryan’s eyes pop back open at the all too familiar sound of the dealer clearing his hands. He’s miscalculated. There isn’t one more hand after all.

A wave of panic washes over Ryan as his hand subconsciously reaches upwards and grabs hold of something buried just beneath the collar of his grey v-neck shirt.

“Sir, it’s been a pleasure and I hope your luck continues with my colleague,” the dealer says with a warm smile.

“Thanks,” Ryan manages to reply as He mentally pushes his internal panic back on down and replaces it once again with his cold, almost emotionless, facade.

“Drinks?”

Ryan whips around in his seat, back momentarily facing the table, just in time to catch the waitress as she passes on by. “Bulleit on the rocks.”

“Sure thing, Honey,” the waitress responses, writing down Ryan’s order.

Ryan drops a $25 chip onto the waitress’ tray and then, “Actually, make it a double.”

“You’ve got it.” The waitress scurries off, back into the sea of gamblers, making sure to pocket the chip as she does.

Ryan knows he shouldn’t be throwing his money around like that. Especially given that he’s on borrowed time. But still, old habits die hard, and he also knows that if he doesn’t tip well, then he’ll most likely end up getting served a crappy ass whiskey instead and he can’t afford to have a hangover. Not with what he needs to do.

“Straight up whiskey on the rocks. Pretty boy,” an all too familiar voice calls out from behind Ryan with a slight tone of hatred that signifies one thing and one thing only… that voice is blissfully aware of who he is.

Ryan takes a deep breath, runs his hands again through his hair in a half-ass attempt to smooth down the loose strands, and then with all the confidence he can muster, turns back around.

And suddenly, time stands still.

There, on the other side of the table is the man he’s hated the most all these years. A man that has haunted his dreams for the worst part of that last eight years. The one that took it all away from Ryan forever, all because of greed.

To say that time has been kind to to the older man, is a vast understatement. No, it’s been beyond kind. Ryan hates that he looks so much like him.

Damien’s shares a striking resemblance to him. Same facial structure,same dark brown hair,  same striking blue eyes, that same rugged handsomeness Ryan has. A strong  jawline while being well built for his age. But there is a noticeable difference. Ryan only has the eyes of a killer, this man really is one.

A singular and jarring thought flashes across Ryan’s mind as his eyes finally move upwards to meet Damien’s piercing blue eyes. Forty five years of knowing this man still makes him look like a stranger.

The deviant smile instantly drops off of Damien’s face as his face flashes different emotions for an instant. Surprise… Sadness… Anger… and then, settling in on nothing. Just a hard, cold stare, devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

“It’s been a while.” Ryan quietly whispers, breaking the silence between the two of them.

But Damien doesn’t respond. He goes about setting up the cards and stacks of chips as if Ryan’s just another stranger looking to play a hand or two of blackjack. “Place your bet.”

Ryan places a large stack of $100 chips down in the designated circle without even taking a moment to double check just how much he’s betting. It’s an impulsive move. He’s know it, but yet can’t seem to help himself. It’s not about the bet. Not this time.

“That’s it?” Damien scoffs with a subtle hint of sarcasm to his voice. “Not gonna go all in? You know you owe me.”

Ryan looks up, locks eyes with Damien once again, and then, unceremoniously slides the rest of his chips forward.

“Here you go, Sweetheart,”the waitress announces as she places Ryan’s glass of whiskey down in front of his.

“Thanks.” Ryan picks up the glass and takes a much needed sip, letting the whiskey burn its way down his throat as Damien deals out the cards.

“Imbecíl,” Damien mutters in Spanish under his breath as he flips over his hidden card revealing a five of hearts. “Dealer has 15.”

Damien draws another card and turns it over. Six of clubs. Blackjack. “21. Dealer wins.”

Another moment of silence falls between the two of them as Damian starts taking Ryan’s chips. Then--

“Da...”

Damien looks up from the stacks of chips with a flash of anger in his eyes. “I told you not to come back in here without what you owe me. But I guess you’re still as worthless as ever,huh, Jason.”

Worthless. An icy cold chill runs down Ryan’s spine at the sound of his real name. It feels foreign and yet it’s the truth. He’s almost forgotten it.

“We're done here. Table’s closed.”

But Ryan doesn’t respond. He’s still shaken from the man’s words that he fails to register him leaving the table. Regardless of how much his impulsive side wanted to haul the man back, Ryan just left shaking in anger.

He can’t hold on to his emotions, he needs to beat it out of himself… better yet. Someone else. With bitterness in his eyes, Ryan stands up and proceeds to leave the table and exit the casino. It was a mistake coming back, and now he has to resort to going back to the one place he could blow off some steam.

"A score to settle"
Sweat box underground arena
Las Vegas, Nevada
[On Camera]

“I’m going to settle a score. Even if I have to get violent.”

Ryan Keys is a run down, grimy looking looker room. There is an unsettling roar coming from every direction, forcing their way through the crooked walls. It’s a loud crowd cheering for some poor bastards fighting for money that won't even cover their damages. Ryan is at the old Sweatbox fighting arena he came from before wrestling. Once again dwelling in his roots as an illegal fighter. The broken tube lighting above him flickered as he gets himself ready.

“It’s time for me to fight like I mean it, like I actually give a damn. This time I’m not about showing off and looking flashy, no. I’ll leave that for when I have the Internet title belt around my waist, something that’s really worth showing off.”

He’s wrapping up his hands and wrists with white tape as he gets ready. There’s a rugged look to Ryan. A five o'clock shadow, a menacing look to his cold eyes, and the broadness of his body being highlighted by sweat. He has the look of a dangerous man.

“Violence is something I’m capable of, and I’m pretty damn good at it. It’s how I survived, how I used to live, it’s what earned me enough not to be living at some random alley here in Vegas. Fighting is what I craves at one point, and I’m sensing that need again. No holding back, no fairness, no bullshit gimmicks changing the name of the game. This Sunday it’s all about three guys stepping inside the ring going into a fight. One will win, one will lose, and the other is gonna feel like he shouldn’t have even been in the match. I’m here to tell you that I will be the man to win, because that last two options are not acceptable. I have a score to settle, I have an unlucky streak to break and at Violent conduct is where I can finally get something to go my way. “

He chuckles to himself before having a sly grin on his dirty face. Ryan holds up two fingers while looking dead straight at the camera as his face looks determined, pissed and ready for a fight as the volume of the crowd in the arena gets even louder. Waiting for the shouts to die down, he loosens his neck and hops in place to keep himself pumped.  

“There are two guys that I need to take down, and I’m not gonna play favorites here. Each one has a reason for me to kick the shit out of them for that title. James, Killan, I don’t care who’s first. Just know that I got my reasons that are simple to understand. I wanna win. And these two are in my way. It’s not about if I like them or not, cause at the end of the day if I don’t win I won’t matter enough to even look at twice. And that doesn’t sit right with me. I’m not here in SCW to lose and be called one of it’s hottest superstars. That is NOT the title I came here to get. There’s only one title on my mind right now, and it’s as good as mine on Sunday.”

He looks like he's fuming along with an impatient feel to Ryan as he paces back and forth, slicking his mid-brown hair back. Ryan’s hands are shaking, yet he doesn’t let thats how often before he exhales and places his hands on his hips. Uncontrollably, his fingers scratch at the hem of his black compression shorts hugging his toned thighs Ryan’s been working on.

“Killian, this isn’t personal. But I’d be pissed off if you went easy on me like you did Andre. Why you lost your match sure as hell beats me, but that’s not gonna be good enough  and you know it. You better have your shit together, or else it’s gonna be real sad to have the match end so fast. I’m that determined to get what I came for, to finally win what I’ve been working for. I’m sick and tired of coming in last with the only consolation being that I get handed about match the following week with someone random.  This match is my chance to have my name up there for people to see and know that I’m still in SCW. I've done it once,and I’ll do it again. Just you watch. If you get in my way it’s going down. I’m gonna hit your head so hard you’ll think I have a twin. I’m not a laughing matter to deal with, and I’ll make sure you realize that when you get in the ring with me. It’s a promise I’m making to you,and I’m planning to keep it.”

He nods. There’s a smirk on his face as he raises one finger this time. An even more crazed look comes to his face while thinking about this next one. Keeping his short fuze anger in check, ryan breathes in deep while trying to muster up the words to say with a bitter look to his face.

“Then we have James…. Hello again James. How's your head? You ain’t looking so good. I’ll remember that. You and your uncle keep flaunting how I can’t beat you, pulling out all these numbers out of your asses like they actually mean something. But go ahead, underestimate me. Rely on those stats all you want. There is only three numbers I need to beat you, and that 1, 2, and 3. That’s how long it takes to settle the score. It only takes one win from me to wipe that busted grin off your face. I’m not below you as a fighter. I lose and I climb back up to your level EASY.”

Ryan emphasises that last word before a spike on his temper flared. With a deep grunt, his  hand changes to a fist that slams against the side of a locket. It’s metallic sound echoes loudly in the beaten down locker room as it’s closed doors opens. He hitches a breath before calming down.

“Even if it takes me WEEKS to get back up I do it. You wanna know why? Because I’m determined to be here. I didn’t just wanted my way to the ring, I worked hard to prove that I can fight.  To prove that I’m not WORTHLESS.”

Ryan is a bit heartfelt and taken back by his last words before shaking them off. He removes his fist from the locks and wipes his face for a moment. It’s a side he’s never shown before and it’s all coming out now that he’s in a place that makes him remember about his past.

“I have a worth to prove, and there is not a thing that’s gonna stop me. Call me the SCW pretty boy if you want, but I know what people will eventually call me. And that a champion. Specifically the internet champion pass this Sunday. I know your weakness, James. I know you’re hurt. There’s blood in the water and I can sure as hell can smell it. I just need three seconds, that’s all it takes. I’ll prove that I can beat you, just you watch.”

He relaxes as the announcers voice on the overhead speaker blares off in the distance announcing the next match. It’s finally time for Ryan to blow off some steam.

“My battles are won in the ring, Gentlemen. All this is just talk for some hype. But James knows that I push him to his limits, that I’m not just all bark and no bite. And Killian will learn this, it’s a shame that it has to be the hard way. Because when I’m here, training, my fighting side gets triggered, and there's only one way to get it all out. You both my think I’m just some pretty boy looking to pose for the next camera, and that’s fine.”

Ryan shrugs once more while rolling his shoulders a bit. From his bag, he pulls out a cross before going silent for a moment.

“Call me whatever you want… truth is.”

His name gets called on the speaker, having him close his eyes for a brief moment before they open, gazing straight at the camera.

“I’m just a fighter.”

 "Setting up the scene"
Las Vegas, NV, Ryan's loft
Thursday, 17, 2017
[Off camera]

Ryan woke with his face pressed into white Egyptian cotton.

He shifts on the bed, belly down and naked, getting his bearings. The smell of coffee and food drifts over him, forcing his eyes open. He sits up and rubs his face, head feeling like lead on his shoulders. The room is dark and full length blinds drawn across the windows hide the day from his sensitive eyes. He doesn’t remember closing them. He gets up and leaves little to the imagination as he walks to the large bathroom.

Everything is pristine and white, sparkling and unused. The shower is in the middle of the room, a huge glass monument, raised up on the tiles. He stands under the jets for twenty minutes, letting the water pound at his neck and back until he feels halfway human again.

He steps back into the bedroom with a towel around his waist and opens the blinds. As he looks out at the city he’s lived in all his life. It can never get any worse. All the scenarios that played around his head over the past few days haunt him, just the product of pessimistic imagination. Ryan is in his home now with Harley and there is no place he feels safer. At least it’s safer up in his loft than when he used to live in crappy motels. He feels like he can get a hold of his situation, survey it from all the way up here. Hide away and not come out until he’s called upon. But as ever, he is waiting for his next match. Waiting for life to kick his ass like it always does.

He dresses in only a black pair of boxers and makes his way to the kitchen,  soft carpet replaced by hard shiny wood under his feet.

Harley is sitting down on the sofa in nothing but Ryan’s sweat pants that look way too big on him as their dog Zane sits comfortably in his lap. He’s talking on a headset, holding a controller in his hands while cursing to whomever it is that's shooting at him in his game. Ryan watches him for a few seconds, he leans his body against the wall has his fingers trail over his tattoos on his arm. They flow, serpent-like, up his arms and across the tops of his shoulders. He’s all toned out and jacked up for his next match already.

Ryan stops staring and slides onto a stool at the breakfast bar, trying to not listen to Harley’s rants, chuckling at how contradicting they all are as he drums his knuckles on the granite.

“No we flank left then go right while  we paint the whole area. No! Don’t go through the middle, that’s for noobs. Fine, go ahead. See if I care, I’m carrying the team anyway!” Harley snaps at the people in the game before it’s all over. He pouts and throws the controller on the floor while folding his arms against his chest.

Ryan looks around, trying not to get sucked into the whole thing and ask.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Ryan acts like he hasn’t been paying attention as his cold eyes look over at the other. “Oh, you mean in your game. No, I’m not pulling the pin on that grenade. You’re on your own.” Ryan says while getting up to get some coffee.

"But it’s not fair. I did most of the work and we still lost.” Harley whines as he picks his discarded shirt from the floor and pulls it over his head. Ryan watches as all that skin disappear in a flourish of black cotton and tries not to comment. “I’m sick of online multiplayers. They’re so fun but so frustrating at the same time.”

Ryan feels the slightest twinge of apprehension into getting into the ticking time bomb Harley can be. “How about we head out today, get some sun over by the beach. I still got that place rented in Santa Monica.”

Harley leans against the countertop, crossing his arms. “Is that the place we stayed at while you were filming the movie? I think I left some stuff over there.”

Ryan sips his black coffee, nodding. “Very same one, it reminds me that I need to practice that southern accent for Dax.”

“I like hearing you talk like that, and the with that cowboy outfit.” Harley laughs.Ryan smiles, sipping more of the warm liquid as he feels calm. It’s been quite a week for him so it’s relieving to feel at ease.

“Besides that, I need a bit of a tan, maybe some fun in the sun. You good with that?”

“Sounds perfect to me. There’s something I haven’t seen you wear.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m only wearing that lifeguard speedo for my promo and that’s it. It’s coming off after that. It’s Ironic that when I wear it stop swimming to stare at it, and then they need a lifeguard.”

“So…… you’re wearing it?”

Ryan grunts softly while nodding over to get Harley to move.

“Go get changed and bring it over. We got ten minutes until we leave.”

“But that doesn’t give me enough time to grab all my games.”

“I know, that’s the point. Now move it.”


"Ryan on Duty"
Santa Monica, California. Santa Monica State Beach
Friday, 18, 2017
[On Camera]



Summer time was ending and everyone was squeezing out every bit that was left of the harsh sunlight. With crystal clear skies, and a serene atmosphere, Ryan keys serves out his last of his duties on a sandy beach over at Santa Monica. The five hour trip was worth it from him to get a well needed tan, and a bit of exposure. The camera pans across to show a slow motion capture of Ryan Keys emerging from the water, hard body soaking wet as slow drips of water fall from his locks. As a gimmick, he’s wearing a bright red lifeguard speedo, only hiding his modesty as the rest of his body was exposed. Ice cold eyes set their gaze over at the camera as he jogs closer to it.

Water still drip from him, his muscles highlighted and well toned thanks to his tan. He stops dead center from view as Ryan lifts his lifeguard board and rests it over is shoulder while pushing his wet hair back. His pearly whites show with confidence as he breaks the silence.

“You know, I always wanted to be a lifeguard. I don’t know, there’s something about it that suits me. The thrill of the thrill of the water, the feeling you get when you save a person from drowning. I’ve already saved ten lives, though I don’t think a person demanding mouth to mouth counts as saving them. But that’s besides the point. The point here is that summer is ending, my favorite Pay Per View is over and in the end… I got nothing to show for it. Though I did show enough to get placed back on the title hunt. And this times I’m not gonna sink like a rock.”

Walking forward, the camera pans back at his speed, never missing a ripple his muscles made. Perfectly sculpted abs are being showed as Ryan looks up with a taunting smile. He soon reaches a lounge chair to pick up his towel and dry off slowly while continuing.

“This time it’s gonna be a little different. This time I’m focused, I have a job to do. It’s time for me to rebuild. Last time I was on the ring I was given a chance to go for the Vacant Internet title, I was so close until it got pulled from under me. Same thing happened before that for the Roulette title. I got so close and then, nothing. My time will come, and I’m gonna make it happen. I will be a champion again, call it a sinking feeling. That’s why I’m calling out James Tuscini to defend his title against me at Violent Conduct…. But that’s way too close to make things happen. I haven’t earned that spot yet. But I will, and he better be ready for me when I get p there and challenge him. That sinking feeling again is telling me that he won’t have that winning record against me for long. My time will come.”

Ryan has a serious look to his handsome face only for it to break into a knowing look. With a simple nod in understanding, he tosses his towel over his chain and sits down on the edge of it. The camera follows as he adjusts it up to where it can't see anything bellow.

“This week is gonna be a little different. Not exactly a first for me to the shock of many. But this week I’m gonna be facing non-other that Holly Wood. Now I have a history with this one right here. I’ve seen Holly before, but I’ve been in the hush about it but I’ve seen him in Vegas a few times. Sure I was doing another line of work, still I got a few singles out of it. Imagine my surprise when I got hired on SCW and the first one I saw was Holly being the referee in my first match. I may not be all that big in the smarts department, but I got a great memory. From that point on, Holly has been in a lot of my matches, either by coincidence or by request, he’s still been in them. Now I’m not gonna make a big deal about all the touching that’s been involved…. And there has been a lot of that, but besides that I’ve always gotten along well with him. I have a certain respect from him you would say.”

He has a more humble expression on his face as his in thought. Ryan picks up his cowboy hat and places it over his head while holding it tight so the wind doesn't blow it away.

“Its odd, but I got a few father figures while growing up that didn’t exactly look all that masculine. I grew up surrounded by drag queens that it’s almost normal to me. So facing Holly doesn’t throw me off one bit. What does worry me is how long he’s been in the ring watching me. I’m not that easy to read, but I’m nothing without a few tricks I’ve learned how to do over and over to gain the advantage. I can see that wearing close to nothing to throw my opponent off won’t work here, hell, I even think I’m demanded to wrestle in almost nothing. But still, besides my tricks I still have skill on my side. I’ll admit, I didn’t necessarily train specifically for this since it came from left field with the request, but I have trained for guys that have pushed me to my limits, guys that have beaten me senseless and now I’m coming back up with far less damages. I’m getting better, and I’m at the top of where I’m supposed to be. Holly better watch out for that.”

Looking back at the camera after a long gaze, Ryan lounges back on his chair to soak in a bit more of the sun to look presentable for his match. He knows someone will appreciate it.

“ I say come on and get you your fight. I have no idea of Holly’s changing careers from ref to wrestler but here I am like the door again for those who want to step into the ring. I don’t pull punches, I don’t play favorite, I might not even play fair at time, but I’m here to win. Maybe put on a little show while I do it. I don't know if Christian ‘has gone along with the mud match he’s been poking at, but if it doesn’t happen now, I bet it’ll happen later. And there’s the sinking feeling again that I’ll be involved with it in someway. But that’s just who I am. I’m a versatile competitor…. At least just in the ring.Give me a normal match and I can do it, give me something completely different and I can do it just as well. Tuxedo matches, pole matches, mud matches, wet boxer contest, it doesn’t matter what it is, I can do it, and I can guarantee that I’ll catch people's attention. This is what I live for, and Holly has done me a favor with getting me inside the ring again. So I guess I’ll thank you for that.”

He smirks as Ryan takes advantage of the camera recording above his waist. Squirming around, the Vegas native looks down through his hat as he sighs in content. What the camera catches next are his red speedos being tossed over his shoulder, only leaving the scene for people's imagination.

“This time I’m ready,and I’m gonna look ready too. I’m off duty, so I’m gonna relax. But this Sunday the gloves are off and it’s all serious for the battle of who shows off more. And I got a sinking feeling Holly’s gonna end up pinned down, with me, on top…. And you can take that out of context if you want.”

The scene slowly fades as the taunting vision is blurred for no one to see. As Ryan tans naked, he slowly is biding his time until his match comes on Sunday.  

 21th July
Las Vegas, NV 1:00pm
Ryan’s Loft
[Off Camera]

After having a wash out on Summer XXXtreme, the Vegas native decided on kicking it back home for his week off.  The supercard on the Grand Princess cruise was a blast, he might not have won, but he things he shocked the audience in other performances. Ryan enjoyed his time on the sea, and the time he spent introducing people to Harley. He was mostly concerned about that, but it all turned out great in the end. Everything worked out, except his claim of the Roulette championship. To think he was so close.

Some much needed gym time took place over the week, earning the man a day of rest. Though he felt like he was forgetting something. Ryan was dressed in only a short pair of black Calvin Klein clinging to his lower body less than modestly. Leaning against a heavy marbled counter on his kitchen, he nursed a cup of freshly brewed coffee after he skipped on making it earlier. His piercing blue eyes started out at nothing, casually sipping at the warm liquid as his head tried to figure out what was missing. A soft tune played on the TV, though it was drowned out mostly by the snores coming from the open bedroom.  Heavily inked arms moved around as his long legs strolled across the room before he halted at a sudden noise.

“We’re late!” A scream came from the bedroom. “Why didn’t you wake me!?”

A loud thud of a body hitting the floor drew Ryan’s attention along with an ‘ouch’ that occurred after. Keys leaned against the wall with the look of amusement, a raised brow and a smirk on his face as he watched the smaller man dress unsuccessfully. He set his mug down on a nearby table with a chuckle as Ryan came closer to the man trapped by his own shirt.

“Monkey, hold still. That’s not where your head goes.”He maneuvered the hem of the shirt around until a head and two big ears appeared. Pushing the shirt down, he smiled at Harley and antic, having him dash out past him to head to the bathroom.

“Where’s the fire? We’re not late for anything.” Not that he can remember. Ryan crossed his inked arms and pondered for a while trying to think of what they could be late for. “And you always sleep until 3pm, why would I wake you?”

It couldn’t be for work. Harley’s schedule to wrestler wasn’t for another week or so, and Ryan was scheduled to fight this Sunday. He still hasn't submitted his promo entry for the show, thought it was only a click of a button away from being submitted anyway. He brought his tattooed fingers to his chin, brushing over his scruff to get an idea. Though hearing more wild crashes and ‘ouches’ behind the bathroom door it only caused him to wonder what they could be missing.

“Harley, if this is about picking up Zane, your mother told us that we can get him next week.”That heard him a muffled response that he knew how to decipher. “I did tell you… what do you mean that’s not it?”

His brows furrowed while he walked over to the door, having it open right at his face so he could stare down at the small man. The hurricane mess left around the bathroom caused him to grunt and grab the back of the shirt of the escaping man. Ryan’s patience ran thing as he pulled Harley back and trapped him in his arms. Fighting his squirms, he finally lifted him off the ground only to have him play dead and add more wait to him.

“Har… dammit! Cut that out.”He shook the other gently until he slipped out of his grasp and crashed against the bed, only to roll to the other side to get his shoes.

“We don’t have much time, we’re gonna miss it.” Harley said with a bit of urgency in his tone of voice.

Ryan exhaled audibly and wiped his hand over his face. “We’re gonna be late for what, Harley? There’s no-” He was cut off abruptly by a magazine page being shoved to his face. Ryan managed to pull it back enough to see its content,and with it the reason why Harley was rushing.

“Splatoon 2 came out today! We gotta hurry before they’re sold out!” The small man said quickly while throwing clothes from Ryan’s drawer. “Quick, get dressed!”

Now he knew why. He chuckled to himself as he looked on the release date for the sequel  Harley’s favorite game. The colorful colors were all around the page, followed but the marks on today’s date. A smile was brought to his lips as he tossed the magazine on the bed and proceeded to lift the small man over his shoulder with a grunt, followed by an endless fit of laugh from Harley.

“Then let’s get going, right now.” He huffed over to the kitchen table to grab his keys while walking over without any effort to the front door to his loft.

“Wait… but you’re not dressed.” Harley commented while his eyes stared down at him.

Ryan only laughed and opened the front door to leave out.

“I know… we got no time for that.”

The scene closed after he closed the door behind and walking out. Ryan’s neighbors were all too acquainted with Ryan’s exhibitionism. Though a few new gasp had them laughing all the way down the elevator.

20th July
Las Vegas, NV 8:00am
Ryan’s loft. (Studio room)
[On Camera]

Ryan Keys is seen in front of an easel, bare chested and hard at work as his muscles contracted and his face looked of pure concentration. Blue paint smeared on his pecs and a few placed on his inker arms, he was fully entrawled into his next work of art.  His icy cold eyes lingered over his creation as a slight smirk appeared before he spoke.

“You know, sometimes you can’t rush some things. It doesn’t matter if you get what you want first if in the end you’re not gonna walk out with it in your hands. That was my mistake. I believe in myself too much. I was confident in my abilities, I showed off my assets flawlessly, I even showed off things not TV legal. But none of that mattered in the end. I blew my chance once again, and now I’m back where I started.”

He said while grunting at another mistake made on his art piece. Frustration slowly grew on him as his quick temper acted up through his body. Ryan forced out and exhale and waited to the count of 10 to start over.

“I’m down again to the spot that I should have left a year ago when I was a rookie. But oh did my star fall from high up and crashed below. Like when Kris sprayed something in my eyes, betraying our agreement of a fair fight and making me fall in a pool. You all remember that? It was great, I was wearing white and everything was out there. It’s fine. I accept it, I lost. But I won’t accept the way I did lose. And my time will come when I get my next shot at Kris. This isn’t even about the title to me anymore.”

“On that Cruise, something happened. Something that I never thought would happen. I friended the guy. I hung out with him, we had our laugh, we drank away until he we passed out until the next morning. I thought Kris and I were cool. But now I know that I should have expected something underhanded. That was my mistake. And it won’t happen again. I’ll keep counting the days until I work my way up the ladder and face Kris again. If he’s still holding the roulette title when I do get my chance it’ll be a good bonus.”

Ryan set down his brushes and stood up to stretch his long inked limbs with a grunt. His muscles contracted with each move, showing off how much he’s worked his body to near perfection.

“Now It’s time to move back up. This time I got a new face to test. Damian Payne. Hopefully he’s not related to Chelsea Payne, because I’m looking forward to steamrolling someone in the ring, and after seeing her perform nothing would be easy.  Still, in a perfect world when he’s not related to her, I can show off on Sunday. Give the people, my hometown fans, what it means to be a Vegas performer.  This Sunday, it’s going to me my night to redeem myself and give my people the show they deserve. And there is no stopping me. I’ve been waiting for my for my opportunity to get inside the ring and beat someones ass. I know that’s what Vegas wants to see from me, that pure, uncontrollable rage with a hint of showmanship that I specialize. And I’m going to deliver.”

“Damian, you were on the Grand Princess Cruise for the Golden Briefcase match. But it’s not a good sign when no one on board remembers you in that match, hell, no one even remembers you on board. And that doesn’t sit right with me. It ticks me off when a wrestler is so hidden from the fans that they don’t even bother putting on a good show. The only redeeming quality I heard about you and your performance was that you were eliminated after Xander Bishop. That’s it. So I’m going to test you this Sunday. And I expect your A game. Or else you’ll have to face the humiliation of losing to the so called pretty boy of SCW.”

“Be ready, or I’ll gladly show you why my hometown of Vegas always has the best shows of the year.”

The scene slowly faded out to black, with Ryan’s piercing eyes still lingering for a while before the promo ended.

 "Things to come"
Long Beach, L.A
Off Camera


It was quite the late morning when Ryan had woken up, he jerked awake on the cheap motel bed, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned around the room to make sure that he had just been sleeping. He had just had one of those recurring nightmares, he had been having it for some time, and no matter how long he slept, the dream always ended the same way… with defeat.



He grabbed his phone to check the time. “Eleven thirty? Damn it!” He cursed as he got up and proceeded to the bathroom. He had decided to act upon the dream, since he was a champion he knew that some of he should be in the public eye at all times. He rushed to get himself cleaned up and dressed before grabbing his backpack and leaving the hotel room.



Outside, the weather was rather nice, no sign of a darkening cloud around. Considering the weather forecasts said it would be raining, it was pretty much the opposite. He breathed the fresh air in before proceeding to his bike. The thing was quite dear to him, an honda CBR1000RR Fireblade SP2, he then blinked a few times as he had forgotten the helmet and rushed back into the room to get it before coming out to hop on the bike.



As he was driving away to have his brunch at some diner around town, he was thinking about who he could call to help him get his name out there.Harley? Jamie? No… He had to get his name shoved down people's throats his own way.Ryan couldn't let people defend him anymore.

“Guess, I’m on my own then…” He said as he parked the bike in front of a diner, taking the keys from the ignition and taking his helmet off.


Ryan walked into the establishment, sitting at the counter as he gave a smile at the waitress. She came over and he took the liberty of requesting something off menu as it was usual for him when he was having a late breakfast. Bacon with eggs and sausages, some mashed potatoes and a salad. The woman smiled as she went  to give his order to the chef, who smiled at Ryan.



He then walked to a booth, signaling the waitress where he was going to be and sat down, putting his backpack next to him, along with the helmet. He took his laptop from the backpack and laid it on the table to turn it on. He started remembering bits and pieces of his dream, which meant the dream was not just a dream. He remembered a ring, a championship, and a person's hand being raised But then everything was dark, he couldn’t remember anything else.



“Is everythin’ okay, hon?” The waitress asked as she put Ryan’s plate in front of him.



“Yeah, I’m just… thinking.” Ryan smiled at her, she nodded at him and tapped his shoulder before leaving to attend other costumers.



Ryan pushed the laptop aside and turned his focus to eating his food, he started doing some location scouting with what he remembered about the ring. It took him some time but he found it, it was just on the Royal Cruise on SCW.


A loud rumble was heard from the skies, everyone looked out the window but there was no sign of a thunder cloud nor anything similar. Ryan knew something was happening, he grabbed a pen and paper from his bag and started to draw what his dream before he took his stuff and left, leaving a $20 note on the table as he left in a rush. He proceeded to get on the bike to take it back to his place.

Ryan was pretty sure that he was speeding way past the limit but he didn’t care. Something was about to happen and he was going to stop it, even if his career was placed on the line. It wouldn’t be the first time he's done anything to claim a win.

As he proceeded through the road, a sharp pain came to his head, causing him to lose control over the bike and falling over. His body was dragged on the floor, eventually stopping his roll, though the bike didn’t stop less than ten feet away from him. His clothes were ripped due to the friction with the harsh concrete road, his body showed scratches he had been inflicted during the fall. Good thing he had the helmet, or else his neck would probably be broken. He let out a deep breath as he turned onto his back, his head leaned against the concrete as images of his the Roullete title being so close in his grasp.


Another rumble was heard, bringing Ryan back to his senses. He got up, his hand on the side of the helmet as he was still in pain. “Damn it… It’ll need a new paint job now… What a headache!” He didn’t care as much for what was happening than he cared for his bike. He knew he was going to stop whoever dared to face him for his title, no matter what the cost was.
But the bike! His precious bike… It was just a few scratches but still… his precious bike!



He pulled the bike back up, examining the paint to see where the scratches were. The marks were rather visible and made him growl in anger. He then shook his head and got onto it to proceed on his way to the house.


____________________________________________________________________________________

"Hop on board"
Ryan's Apartment(Night Rooftop)
On Camera

Ryan Keys stands on top of his loft in downtown, Las Vegas, Nevada, staring blankly in the sky as he hears a the many sounds around him. Dressed in torn up black jeans, revealing a bit too much as his denim vest on top of a simple white shirt completed his look. The his eyes shine beautifully in the artificial lights around him. His ice cold eyes stay trained up at the night sky where the Vegas lights all shine below him, yet his attention his focused on one spot in the distance.

"I can smell the sea already. The Royal Princess cruise is out there waiting for me. Once again I'll be in in an ultimate X over the pool match in my career here in SCW. Last time... things didn't work out for me since I was pushed off by a sore loser in Casey, after I eliminated him no less. But, the people around the pool caught a glimpse of my see through ring gear. I thing I heard someone faint. Then again, i heard the same thing last week. Kris... you sure know how to make a show."

A bright smile tugs on his handsome face as a wave of confidence and arrogance.His calm features remain as cold as his eyes as the gentle night winds blow, making the clothes on him ripple as it passes by. Taking in a long breath he kicks the search light again, grunting as it still doesn't work.  

"Last week... it went sort of like I imagined it. By that I mean not really. I didn't plan for Polly to stand me up, but who was I kidding. i gave her way more faith and trust than she needed. But that's just who I am. I see the best in people. Though I'm still trying to find the best in Polly Pocket. I'll be there front row for her match against Mikah... which I have no doubts on who the winner will be. But that's not why we're here to talk about no... We're here to talk about the over the pool match and whether or not I'll be wearing see-through gear or not again.... and the answer is, yes. I got my white speedo all ready for that match. Bt unfortunately for all of you I'm not gonna be the one falling, No. That will not happen until I have the roulette title on me."

Ryan paces around the same spot with his heavily tattooed arms crossed over his chest as he thought. Suddenly police siren's would catch his attention, though far and distant a bright light shines from the rooftops of a building signalling for someone, causing him to stare and shake his head.

"It's going to be me against Kris and Travis... and the odds are really not on my side. I'm the underdog here. On one hand I got a guy that is desperate enough to get some recognition that he'll do anything to win a title. And on the other side, we have the guy that won the title from me with no effort at all... and then continued to pants me in the ring. Thanks for getting me more exposure... but just not like that. Anyway, I need to step up my game. These are men that I can't goof around with... maybe with Kris and Jamie Dean later in a wet T-shirt contest, but in the ring it's all business. I cannot lose this... his losing streak ends as soon as I hop on board that boat."

With a smirk on his face, the former champion walks over to the guarded edge and watches as the Vegas water show is starting

"I'm going to finally have some redemption on the Royal Princess Cruise and make my career right. My iron grip on the wires will come in handy, and I have a slight advantage of being in the match a bit more recently than my opponents... but I wont rely on that fact. I am still training so that I can win this match fair and square. And there is nothing anyone can do to stop me."

Ryan's winning smile,along with a small chuckle the scene slowly fades out.  

  "Finding my way"
Location: Unknown bar
[Off Camera]

There was that smell again, watered down whiskey and old wood from the stools gathered around as it's done for years. Ryan stepped through the doors of a random pub to drown out his latest loss. A soft tune was played to create an gloomy atmosphere, at the hanging lights did nothing to light up the room. It wasn't the most luxurious place, it wasn't the biggest place, though it was the place the falling star found. As the rest of the people there stared blankly at some random football game, Ryan found himself a comfortable seat by the bar. Dank air and musk surrounded the area as the people mumbled to themselves in their own little world. Thick clouds of smoke, hinting of cheap cigars clouded most of the place though the blue eyed man thought things could be worse.  

Ordering himself a bourbon, he tried to drown out the conversation from the man to his left. Those Irish tones made him chuckle as this place was just missing an old- drunken Irishman spitting tales of his old days. Once his drink was presented by the overly provocative bartender Ryan paid no attention to her advances as he much preferred to take a drink, never did he listen to the man next to him who seemed to be talking towards him.

The Irishman kept attempting to talk with the guy next to him but he didn't seem to be even budging towards him. Fine, the environment was quite loud and he was just probably not speaking out enough for the man to hear. The men were talking to loud, but for an Irish establishment that was the normal. Irish people were known to be the loudest and drunkest people around. They were so loud that you couldn't hear yourself think. The Irishman decided that to get Ryan's attention, he'd probably have to get physical or something.

"Oi! Why ya bein' rude, lad?" The man spoke in his Irish accent. He even tapped Ryan's arm twice to try and make him look at him. This Irishman had noticed that the man seemed to be in some sort of bad mood due to him not even paying a bit of attention to the nice looking woman serving the drinks.

"What's the matter, lad? Why lookin' so... well... down?" The man asked as he placed his hand on the superstar's shoulder, an eyebrow raised in question as he looked at him.

Ryan's trance was interrupted by the man's constant chatter towards him. The old fool was probably drunk of his mind and wanting another hopeless fool to talk his ear off. The tattooed man turned to share an ice cold stare, yet deep down he was surprised by the man's young demeanor. If he didn't know better he could saw the man was roughly around his age.

His facial features twitched despite the revelation that occurred. Rolling his shoulder his eyes stayed glaring daggers at the man naturally. "Yeah, it's a bar. What else are people here for? I can bet you that each person here has a problem they're drinkin' away. "

Resting his elbows over the old wooden counter his variety of tattoos showed from his shirt. Letting out a sigh he had a feeling that he couldn't shake this guy off him if he tried."Drinkin's what people do."

The Irishman was obviously used to the attitude the man was giving him. He laughed briefly since he wasn't taking anything to heart but he just seemed to want to listen instead of speaking. The man that was next to him seemed to be rather angry and tense.

"I come here just for fun. It reminds me of home actually." The Irishman said before having his hand out for Ryan to shake. "Name's Bray." The Irishman had decided to go with his given name instead of his ring name, Bray Murphy, due to wanting to keep it low. "I can actually tell people's problems, well... most of them."

Bray couldn't stop noticing the man's tattoos, they seemed to be pretty cool. Though he'd never think of inking his own pale white skin due to it probably not looking good on him. He found himself paying more attention to them than anything else. "Nice lookin' tattoos ya got there."

Exchanging names and sitting up a bit, Ryan had a certain fondness for his artwork. It was the quickest way to get on the young superstars good side. "You got good taste." Moving his tattooed arm he showed it off a bit more. "Most of them I did myself. The rest were drawn b me."

Taking his drink once more he thought that a random stranger at a bar couldn't do anything to shaken his mood. The guy was probably drunk anyway. Tasting the remaining liquid off his lips, Ryan turned to face the man that felt so inclined to talk to him. Upon hearing his name he nodded, never being good with more than one name  give.

"Bray, huh. Could you be any more Irish?" That was meant to sound sarcastic as Ryan tried to find something interesting to keep him from standing up and walk away. "You're a long way from home."

The man's attention was fully on the tattooed male, looking very attentively to the tattoos as they were shown to him. "Yer very artistic, I gotta give ya that." He spoke, giving the male a bright smile. He could appreciate art when he could see it and the tattoos were clearly good.

Bray wasn't sure whether to feel offended or just laugh at the Irish comment, he decided for the latter since the other male did seem like he needed someone to talk to. "Bray Murphy, yeah... pretty much Irish. I know."

The Irishman had moved around quite a lot due to work and some other reasons, more personal than anything else and he wasn't going to tell all that just in a meeting. "I'm workin'. I wrestle..." That was all he said before signaling the bartender to fill in his glass once more. He had a massive tolerance to alcohol.

At least the man was good for a laugh.  Ryan relaxed a bit and returned to his drink as he let the Irishman talk. He wasn't that vocal away from the cameras and watchful eyes of the people. It seemed that the man next to him didn't know who he was.

"A wrestler. You any good? Gotta say, it's a rough business." Ryan said while ignoring the refill given to him without asking. His ice cold eyes stared at the bartender until she moved away with a snicker. Seems he was losing his intimidation towards other people.

"At times I wonder why I even started to wrestle. But what about you? Why do you do it?" There was slight hint of curiosity in his voice as he threw caution to the wind.

Bray didn't really brag about things he had done in the past, though he was good alright. Even had been a champion for a while. Also winning another title but dropping out of it due to being injured. He wasn't sure how he'd say all that and be quick with it.

"Well... I don' want to brag but... I did get two titles some time ago." He gave the woman a smile as she filled his drink and then nodded at her, he could tell that Ryan wasn't too into her, making him laugh. "Women these days, am I right?"

Bray took a sip from his glass and paused for a moment, it wasn't like he didn't know why he did it but he didn't actually know how to explain it. "To me.. It's a passion. I love wrestlin', it's the only thing I'm good at." Lies, the list of what he was good at was quite long. "What brought you into the industry? That should be what keeps ya goin'."

Ryan chuckled to himself as that same thing is what people keep saying. “What keeps me going, huh?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Moments Later

"Here I am again. It seems that no matter what I do, no matter how much I hide away from the spot light, it just keeps coming back. I should feel honored. Catching peoples eyes is what half the people around Sin City have been wanting since they step between those ropes. Their names getting chanted, boo'ed for most, but attention nonetheless. But with the spot light comes moment where it shows your triumphs. Memories you can look back and see yourself at the top. Still... wit those moments of glory something else shines too. Those moments when you slip up and let everything crash right in front of your face. Humiliation an defeat.  Those get shown as well."

Ryan breathed deeply as he rested his hand against his head as he nodded. Blue eyes shined purely as the spot light above showed more of his body as he was wearing nothing but black letters written all over. All of them showing negative comments.

"The things you show are not what people see. A good kick, a nice pin fails in comparison to falling on your face or batching something simple like a collar and elbow lock up. Those moments take longer to go away. And in this coming match... we all have these moments that will show. Each one of us has a less than flattering angle about us in our career."

He nodded and focused his eyes while tilting his head up.

"Travis Nathaniel Andrews. You've shown promise. The camera loves you... it's pretty much the only thing that loves you more than yourself. You shine brightly every time you come out there and talk to your hearts content. You're very good at that. But... in all that spotlight, we still see the man that has lost a critical match in his career and has gone away, then came back, climbed to glory... then gone away again when he lost. It's a repeated cycle that you're on, and it's not the wrong one to be in. Yet people remember you going away and come back as if nothing had happened, denying your loses. That can only lead your to the same cycle you've been on."

Ryan switched it up and now the camera shoots him from behind, showing his muscular structure even more.

"Then we have Steve Ramone. A man that doesn't lat anything in his life step away from the spotlight. He practically shoves his career and personal life down peoples throats just so he can get his fame solidified. Those actions are of a man that is afraid of people forgetting about him. A man who's inconsistencies will plague him until his career ends. I still see you are the man to beat, but I don't beat you to climb up the stairs of glory, no. I beat you to prove that I haven't slipped further down that I already was, above you."

Changing to a shot from above, Ryan stayed still in his stance as he showed his flaws for people to see.

"When the spotlight falls on me... this is what people see. A body. It doesn't matter what I do, what I've done, or what I will do, I'm just going to be a body for people to look at. A gem in SCW who will have his chance to shine until he's put back in a box until people demand to see him yet again. But that is not me. I will prove that I can be someone here, and I will prove that I am respected."

Taking a deeper breath that displayed more of his body working, Ryan stared up at the camera where is eyes shined a deeper shade of icy blue than before.  A cold stare for a man who's fire turned blue.

"Win or lose... I will make a different and find my way. I'll prove it."

 "Down time"
Off Camera

It has been a while since the last time James and Ryan had a chance to hang out together; both of them have been pretty busy with different things lately, Ryan being around the States for work, James focused on his studies attempting to finish this year in the best way he could. So, they could both use some time together to take a break from everything, ‘cause, honestly: who would say no to a weekend of pure fun and wild things with your best dudes? Of course Ryan wouldn’t. And neither would James. Therefore, when James got the news that Ryan was about to travel to the Big Apple for one of his pretty important matches, he immediately called him, making sure to book the first flight to New York to join one of his best friends and spend some good time with him. Also, James wouldn’t miss the match, not this one. Honestly, that made Ryan feel a little bit more relaxed. Knowing that he could see another friendly and familiar face in the crowd was a positive and reassuring thing.

Having everything ready for the next couple of days, the only thing left to do for the champion was literally jumping on board and get ready. Well, mentally ready at least; he’s been already spending half of his time at the gym, so his sculptured and sexy body was ready for the match. The flight to New York wasn’t really long, but it was kinda boring. There was no way of doing anything Ryan liked, so he was basically forced to sit down and either listen to a few repetitive songs or watch some old movies. He ended up staring out of the small window more than he thought.

When he finally landed, able to stretch his long legs and walk around again, he picked up his bags and headed for the arrivals hall of the big, chaotic and crowded airport. Once he could turn on his phone again, a few messages showed up, included James’s, which were more like a sentence for each one of them. ‘delayed flight’ ‘ill be there in 2’ ‘landed before ya man’ ‘im waiting for u’. Indeed, the guy was already there, sitting down waiting for Ryan, checking the screens to see if the plane had already landed or not. When Ryan got closer, waving his hand to James, the Blondie got up and pulled the man in a hug, patting his shoulder blades.

James: Man, it’s so great to see you! How have you been? You got bigger huh?!

Ryan: I thought my jeans weren’t showing that too much?

A laugh coming from them both followed Ryan’s sentence. He always knew what to say to bring joy and silly things to the conversation, and that’s what James loved the most about hanging out with Ryan; you had fun, no matter what.

James: Asshole. We gotta take a taxi and get rid of all this stuff. Didn’t know you needed an entire bag to keep your panties.[/color]

Elbowing his side, James soon headed for the exit of the airport, where a lot of taxis were parked, waiting for their clients. Ryan caught the attention of one of the drivers, who got out of the car and opened the back door for them. Once in there, James told the old man the address of the hotel he had previously booked, checking it from his phone, and for the next twenty minutes the two guys just chatted about anything. The hotel was nice, even if it wasn’t one of the best around, but knowing that they would probably use their rooms just to have some dirty fun with strangers, the appearance wasn’t that important.
It took them almost half an hour to empty their bags, take a shower and be ready to go out. Luckily, they weren’t suffering from jetlag, yet. This meant that they could stay out more.

Ryan: I know that there should be a club around here. Mind see if I’m right?

James: You must be! We are in the bloody New York, there has to be at least a million clubs around!

And they were right, of course. The hotel was located in a central area, as Ryan requested. He needed to be able to reach the place of the match quickly, and with any possible way of transport. Knowing him, he would probably end up calling a taxi for the event. Since then, though, he liked walking around showing off his bare upper body, since he was only wearing a jacket, unbuttoned of course, and his belt, over a pair of tight jeans. It was still warm, but not that much to walk through the city at night wearing just his shorts. Even if he would love to.

Using the maps on James’s phone, they reached a small - or at least it looked small from the outside - club, where two bodyguards were standing at the door checking documents and letting people in. Useless to say that they didn’t even bother to ask for Ryan’s ID, they simply stepped aside, made a compliment about the belt, of course, and let them in.

James: That’s why I love going out with you.

Ryan: Life can get easier if you’re me, bud.

The young champion immediately caught the attention, maybe because he was the only person half naked, maybe because someone recognized him, however he got many eyes on him; not that he really minded it.

After a quick walk around the place, they ascertained that there was a big room at the end of the building which had a big pool table right in the middle, another long counter similar to the one of the main room, behind which a couple of young guys were serving drinks to people who were already clearly drunk, and some slot machines on the corner. There was no space to dance in there, but, if they wanted to, the first room was basically only a large dance floor, so they had all the space they needed and wanted, eventually.

Ryan: Let’s play pool, bud. I’ll show you how we big guys win.

James: Shut the fuck up, I’m gonna beat your ass.

Ryan scoffed at that and waited for the two boys who were already playing to be finished, which happened pretty quickly, being them almost laying on the table instead of playing.

Ryan: Enough, enough, my turn now.

The game went on for a while, Ryan was in the lead, James quite annoyed by that, and two nice, yet hot girls kept on staring at them, until James stopped playing to go and buy a drink for him and Ryan. Of course his friend took the chance to approach the girls, and by the time James was back, one of them already had her hands placed on Ryan’s abdomen. To look closer at the belt, naturally. Why else?

James: Ladies, fancy a drink? Another belt to touch? Just ask for it.

Of course James was kidding as he sat on the board of the pool table, sipping from his glass, not really surprised when one of the girls moved to place her hands on James’s thighs.

Ryan: Guess someone will take a look at our hotel room later?

James: Whenever, man.

Ryan was deeply grateful that James had joined him. Not only because of the naked girl leaving his bed the following morning, not even for his head still hurting from all the drinks he had that night. But mostly because he knew that the blonde was someone he could count on. Yes, they had passed a pretty crazy night, drinking and dancing with different girls, bodies crashing on each other on the dance floor, then in the hotel room; something he hadn’t been doing for a while. He needed it. He needed to take a break from the feeling of the upcoming fight. That wasn’t going to be an easy one. And having his mind off of it for a while was really helpful. He didn’t know if he would win the match or not, but a part of him, probably the drunkest one, wasn’t really worrying about it. Since he knew that he could make it, if he wanted to. And, Gosh, what else could he possibly want now?

"Defensive approach"
On Camera

”Guess this is my curse.”

Ryan is leaning against the wall in his apartment over at Vegas. A familiar feeling as Ryan opens up the doors to his home, looking so naturally calm. Picking at something over the SCW Roulette title belt Ryan smiles once he looks over at the camera. Icy blue eyes stare deeply into it as he slowly pushes away from the wall to walk around slowly. Even if he's calm there is something that’s bugging him.

“I say my curse because it’s the second time that I’ve captured the Roulette title, it’s the second time I’ve defended it almost immediately after getting it. I get it. SCW keeps growing, new opportunities come up, people get pushed and the champions have to survive through it. Management could at least throw us a bone and save the defence for bigger nights like Into the Void, but I get the feeling that after I claw my way out of this match with the title and the week off passes that I’ll have to defend again for no good reason. Most of the contenders for my title are guys whose rematch clause seem to never expire. That might have to change soon.”

He walks over to his artistic corner in his home, almost tripping at a discarded hoodie that he’ll have to deal with later. His eyes fall onto a blank easel which he’s tried to fill, but instead his head seem to be getting filled.

”I’m going to get my respect, and prove that I’m to be respected.”

Ryan says while raising the title belt a bit to take a closer look at it in his hands. Nodding his head he smirks at a thought.

“More importantly I have a few choice people that I want to earn their respect by what I’ll do at Into the Void. Not only will I break my curse, but I’ll finally get rid of all these rematch clause that still seem to be around. I say this talking directly about James Tuscini. When was the last time he was even in the SCW Roulette title run? Months ago while he was doing his tag team stuff. But that somehow puts him as a contender anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I want to beat the guy once and for all, but it’s still messes with my head how long a rematch clause can last. Almost makes me wonder how long I can have one if I even lose.I’ll have to ask Tuscini about it. Or just wait backstage for him to come out of nowhere.”

He seems a bit annoyed by what has happened. Taking the piece of paper in his hands he tries to imagine what it is that he could paint, that usually calmed his mind. But nothing comes up.

”Or maybe I’ll ask Steve Ramone. This man has had more opportunities than he’s won, probably because he’ll stay for hours barking at Mark or Christian to give him another shot. And they have, almost 6 or more of them. But each time he gets one he’s nowhere near capable or deserving of going for my title. But here we have him. Why? Rematch clause. Makes me think of how many rematch clauses do you need against the same guy for Steve to get that he can’t beat me. Not with what he does. There isn’t a moment where I let my eyes slip away from Steve. The moment that I do something goes wrong and ends up in his favor. Uncertainty is his strength since I never know if I’m  going up against him alone, or with his bodyguards. Sometimes Steve isn’t actually there and things still go wrong by his doing. But I want to earn this man's respect, maybe then I’ll finally have a serious match against him, and him alone. That might be some wishful thinking, but I can happen. Respect goes a long way, probably why Dax keeps messing with me by saying people don’t have any for me. Everyday I put my body through harsh conditions, endless hours of training,and use extra time to make sure I’m not hurting. All of that plus my skills on the mic makes me very respectable. The crowds cheers don't lie. With each pop I get everytime I come out to the ring is proof enough at how much respect I get.”

He holds onto the title tight, and looks back at the camera.

”I spent way too much time and effort getting to where I am, and I won’t let no one take away the symbol of that achievement. Not Steve, not James, not even Kris. Surprisingly He’s the only one that has actually fought his way up like I did and not is in this match. James, Steve, take notes. That is the way you earn a title shot. Not through any bullshit clause or demands. I’m looking forward to get into the ring with Kris again. I let him get one over on me once, and I won’t let that happen again. But it wouldn’t be me without having some fun while at work. And a match against him will be fun, it’s where I can actually feel all his hate at once. For a guy his size he really has some issues, but he makes up for it in being entertaining. Against Kris I’ll gladly defend my title. Against Steve and James… things change. I’ll be keeping a close eyes on them and wait...My curse will end.. Soon. Very soon.”

The scene slowly fades away as Ryan sits down and stares into the blank canvas.

 One O'clock in the morning
Ryan’s apartment
Las Vegas, Nevada
[Off Camera]


Ryan was tired. His back was sore, and the gentle sting from where his skin was burned still remained after so long. It had been a long week after the events of Blaze of Glory and he was glad to be finally home to sleep in his own bed. He placed the shot glass in the sink and decided he would wash it in the morning. A bit of whiskey every now and again helped him sleep better after each grueling match that seem to get worse each coming week. Bare chested and wearing a pair of black boxers Ryan trudged wearily back in his bedroom, his feet barely lifting up from the ground.  Just as soon as he was about to belly flop onto his bed, the doorbell sounded.

Fuck. Who the hell could it be that time of night?  Fuck it! It wasn’t even night, it was past one in the morning. Ryan hoped that who ever it was would go away but the bell sounded persistently again.

“Comin’!” He yelled as he almost trips over a shirt that was too small to be his and walks wearily to the door. Whoever it was better had a good reason or he was going to cuss them the hell out.

Opening the door he found James Arthur Coleman standing there. He was wearing cut off jeans and a black hoodie. On his feet were his favorite nike sneakers. But more importantly he noticed a shiner starting to form around James’s right eye.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Ryan hoped to hell James didn’t go and get himself caught up in any shit. He prayed that he had an accident with some gym equipment or hit himself with the toothpaste cap.

“Can I come in?” James looked up at him shyly from underneath the black hood.

“Yeah man, c’mon. Jesus.” Ryan ushered James in and then closed and locked the door. “ And take off those shoes. You’re getting mud all over the floor.”

James took off his sneakers and placed them by the front door. Then he paddled barefoot to Ryan’s couch and sat. He stared at the wall right in front of him and said nothing.

Ryan sat next to James looking at him. Waiting for type of explanation as to why he was at his door so early in the morning, and more importantly what happened to him.

“So you want to tell me what’s going on?” Ryan asked.

James’s face was tense, almost as if he was mad but Ryan could sense some sadness there also. What the hell happened to him?

“So are you gonna talk?”Ryan inquired a few minutes later. He was tired.  His back ached. He wanted to sleep and James wasn’t responding.

Ryan stood up. “Okay fine. Don’t talk. Couch is yours or whatever, I’m going to bed.” He turned to make his way to the bedroom when James said something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

 â€œI met your uncle.”

Ryan stood still as if he was frozen in time. No, he couldn’t have heard right. James didn’t just say what he thought he heard him say.

He turned around and looked at the back of the hooded figure sitting on his couch. “I’m sorry, I think I have something crazy stuck in my ears. What did you just say?” His voice low and uncertain.

James pulled the hoodie off his head. His dark brown hair was damp and disheveled. He ran his hair through it and took a deep breath. “I said that I met your uncle.”

Ryan walked back to the couch. His face contorted with confusion. “You met… MY uncle.” There were so many things wrong with that sentence. Starting with the fact that Ryan’s uncle had been in prison for as long as he can remember.

James looked up at him and nodded his head. “Yeah, I did.”

Ryan sat down on a nearby breakfast bar stool. ”Well I guess that explains the black eye.”

He looked at James and it seemed that he was almost on the verge of tears.

”But wait a minute,”Ryan said. “How the hell did you meet him? He’s been in prison.I mean I guess they might have left him out, but they would have told me about it first. And even then, how would he know you knew me?”

“I don’t know!” James practically yelled.

He came to his feet and walked to Ryan. “He took Melissa.” The words came out Hoarsely over a choked back tear but Ryan heard them clearly.

Ryan felt the blood blood rush straight out of his body. “He took her?”

James nodded.

“Fuck… I need a drink.” Ryan brushed part James went over to the kitchen sink. Guess he would have to clean the glass now.

As he rinsed off the glass he felt James eyes boring through him. He went over the cabinet and took down the Jack Daniels and poured himself a shot and raised the glass to his lips.

“So are you just going to stand there and drink?”

Ryan snapped at him. “What the fuck do you expect me to do? My uncle is a psychopath that was put away before I could even walk and now you come over telling me that he’s out, took my one of my friends, most definitely hit you and could possibly know where I am. What the hell do you expect from me?”  Ryan slammed the glass down on the counter, spilling some of the liquid over the sides.

“To do something.” James said slowly.

“Like what James!? The man’s crazy. Look what he did to you. And he’s got Melissa who’s probably scared out of her mind right now.”

“I tried to fight him off.” James gritted his teeth. “I just couldn’t do it by myself.”

Ryan exhales slowly. “Okay… then what’s the plan?”



“As Blaze of Glory ends it’s unforgiving flames die down with it. One by one those flames scorched a few men and singed their dreams of being a champion. Yet one man’s dreams burned so brightly that some say he burned himself. He blinded himself at the sight of his goal and left himself open to his next gruesome fate. How much more can this man take? Is not the question people should be asking. How much more is this man willing to endure to get what he been fighting for? It’s the question that should be asked. Ryan Keys has endured one career ending match one after the other, and even though most haven’t gone in his favor the lessons he’s learn burn deep inside him."

"The burns on his body heal, yet the fire inside him can never go away. Now with his goal so close to him again his flames burn brighter than ever. He’s put his body through a lot of pain, and now he’s planning to dish it out the next time he steps inside the ring. And at Climax control he has his eyes set on extinguishing another man's fire. Only then will his fire settle down once he sees the blackened remains of another man’s reign, only then will he be satisfied until he craves more… The list of potential victims grown larger by the hour.”  

"A burning desire"
Fire Station 6 - Las Vegas Fire & Rescue
[On Camera]

The heat of the work environment pales in comparison that is the heat inside the fire station currently.  It’s unbearable, steamy, most likely someone left the sauna door open in the locker room. Through the stations corridors  a single pair of footsteps can be heard, a small stride of work boots coming nearer and nearer. It was until a few moments ago that a man came into full view. Dressed from head to toe in an official fireman uniform did Ryan Keys stroll into the scene. His face is dirtied with the dark remains of ashes staining his skin while sweat slowly pours down his body. Removing his jacket the undershirt he wear clings to his muscular body, his inked arms are covered in ashes as he enters the stations locker room.

Sliding off the suspenders over his shoulders he tugs off the saturated fabric that his shirt. The rest of his uniform is worn and tattered, a visual result of how hard he’s worked to get the job done. The pants already have a few tears, as the yellow color is faded by the ashes over them. Taking off his gloves he tosses them down to the bench where he sits to rest his exhausted body. There's an audible groan when he works the kinks out of his aching muscles, protesting every movement he makes, but even though he’s tired Ryan would never give up.

With another deep groan he leaned back and caught his breath. Changing his focus with a smirk to those that are watching.

"Man it's hot in here. Not sure if it's the locker room, the burns on my body, or this uniform. Since I'm not not for a guy that wears a lot of clothes I'm gonna go ahead and say that it's the uniform. And yet, it goes so well with this fantasy I'm trying to create this week. One out of a long list of fantasies I know a lot of people have with me in them. But there is no denying it. I look good in uniform."

He rests his head against the concrete wall as he stares at the camera. His lips always smiling in ways a lot of people can misinterpret.

"But tonight I'm not here to show off how good I look as a fireman, no. I'm dressed this way on purpose, just to give an extra something to that old record that is me talking about Steve Ramone, and how two weeks ago I came so close to becoming the SCW Roulette champion again. Every little thing was going great. I arrived at Stockton only getting lost once, my ring gear was all laced up nice and tight, and I even got to swing around on the scaffolding as a warm up. But what I didn't count on was that Blaze of glory was only going to get hotter once my match came up."

Ryan leans forward off the wall  as his hand goes down to unlace his worn boots, tugging at each string harshly like he's done so many times with his own ring boots.

"When the roulette wheel started to spin I already knew that it was going to be a long night. It was already long enough with the bosses calling out names and making the weirdest teams I've ever heard of. Then again I don't like teaming up so I didn't pay that much attention to it. Back to the wheel I didn't see a single normal match on it, at least no normal matches four guys could have in the ring, I mean leather strap matches and street matches are alright, but what the hell is a fulfill you fantasy match? That one was kinda weird. Still I would have pulled for that one to win the roulette of the one that did. An Inferno match. Now that's just great, right? You let a man that went through a Hardcore Bourbon Street Bar Brawl at Inception one week and Barbed Wire Massacre Match the next. So when the four of us got doused down with fire repellent it sunk into me that I would have had to pull off something special. And I did. I barely saw Shipman. The current champion TNA feel for the old matrix move, the only one left was Steve Ramone who just loves to ruin a good thing going."

He takes off his boots and sets them down on the floor with a thud as he leans his elbows against his thighs. With the stare he shakes his head as the heat builds up inside him at the thought of Steve. Rolling his shoulders he rests his body just to cool off.

"There are no words that can describe the fire building up inside me just by the sound of that name. The rage, the understandable anger that anyone that has ever faced Steve gets easily just by looking at him. And I would gladly hate to wrestle with this guy... if only it wasn't so damn fun. Steve brings out the best and worst in people, and all that does is lite a fire inside, an unspoken desire to shut him up and give him what he deserves. But he can't make it that easy, can he? No, even if you get as close to finishing him as I did at the PPV that snake slithers off. If he doesn't he has his dog and bodyguards to do his work for him. So you can understand what kind of mentality one has to have when facing him. Just like a forest fire burning brightly there is no hesitating, as soon as you find an opening you take it and hope that nothing pops up to ruin things. And just like that fire it takes a while and a lot of hard work to extinguish it."

Getting to his feet Ryan slowly walks closer to the camera, letting it roam over his worked body that he's managed to build up even more since the last time. A simple visual of how ready Ryan is. He smirks once the camera focuses on his face.

"Steve if you think I had no business challenging you in the past then you better think again. No only have I showed you that my business is to challenge you, but I've showed you how ready I am, I've showed you how much fight I have in me and I've showed you how brightly my fire burns each and every time I get inside that ring. I've proven that I can beat you, and more than that I've proven that I can beat you three times in a row. I'm sure you don't remember that, right Steve? Well if you don't I'm more than happy to burn the memory that is my beating you into that small brain of yous. I'm ready to extinguish this small reign you got going on, because everyone knows that my fire is big enough to put yours down before it even starts."

Ryan steps back a bit to grab a towel from off the rack and slowly stars to unbutton his pants, revealing the deep V-cut going down to his groin. With a subtle smirk he raises a brow before he starts to walk, but only stops for a second.

"This next part is only for paying customers only."

Just like that the camera cuts off the footage, ending this porting of the promo while a different kind of video was about to be shot a few minutes from there.

 He didn’t remember how he got there. How it happened, how he got down of the ring and back outside. Or who had laid him down on that uncomfortable stretcher. The only thing he could feel clearly, was his blood pulsing in his ears, since his body seemed to be nothing but a wide and complete pain. He thought about closing his eyes just for a moment, but apparently he zoomed out for a quite longer time, since he was now moving. No, no he was still. The car was moving. But there’s no medical facilities on a car. Ambulance, then. Every bend in the road shot a painful jolt up to his spine, but he couldn’t talk. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t scream out his pain. It felt as if his throat was ripped. Too much pain.

It was too much to handle. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t move a single muscle. Just opening his eyes felt as if he was lifting something damn heavy with his own eyelids. He hated it, hated not being able to have control on his body. Feeling weak, in pain, as if someone kept pushing him down, pressing on every hurting spot. Once again, what he saw around him made his vision blurry. There was this annoying sound, coming from the machine on his left. Then someone mumbling words he couldn’t catch. Noises, too many noises. In his head, screams and cursing were bouncing here and there. He could hear people yelling at him, but nobody was talking. It was all in his head. ‘What have you done, Ryan?’ ‘How could that happen?’ He hadn’t realize that, once again, he was getting unconscious. But this time he would have tried his best to stay awake. To remember. He knew he had fallen down, but he didn’t hit his head, did he? So what made him feel...his throat. That was the thing. Barbed wire! He lost. He lost it all. How could he? How could he be so dumb? He knew that winning was all that mattered, and he failed. He let everybody down, he let himself down. Probably letting the darkness win would be a very good solution in this moment...

When he opened his eyes the harsh light above him made it hard for him to keep them open for much longer. Everything on him hurt, and he can barely feel certain parts of him. His face was the worst of his pain. Opening his eyes again, hissing, he simply scanned the room he was in quickly, noticing someone in there. Unsure of who it was Ryan wasn’t someone to stay quiet.

"Something to fix"
SCW Climax control #171 Irvine, CA February 12th, 2017
5 hours after the show


Ryan: Ngh…. W-what the hell hit me?

His voice was gravely by the strain of his dry throat, and everything they pumped into him wasn’t helping very much. Aimlessly he tried open his eyes a bit more to get to see the person there, since all he could focus on was a dark shadow, a blurred figure that he recognized soon after. Remi was sitting on the edge of his bed by his knees in a criss-cross style and a smile placed on her face but the worried look still in her blue eyes.

Remi: I believe it was a crazy person.  But I could be wrong.

She was sporting a pair of Disney printed leggings and a simple black zip up hoodie.  Her lavender hair was pulled up into a messy bun with a few pieces framing her face than had fallen out of the bun.

Remi: H-how are you feeling?  Do I need to get the nurse?

The worried look replaces the smile as she moves to get up, ready to go get the nurse in charge. He holds up his hand the best he can to stop her from calling anyone, honestly he was more surprised that he could move than knowing that Remi was there. He still couldn’t feel his lower body that much, but the pain that ran up his spine when he moved his arm was enough to make him realize that he probably should stay still.

Ryan: Hey, no. It’s okay. It makes sense that you’re here…. When I wake up exhausted… you’re always around.

That failed attempt for a joke backfires when Ryan tries to catch his breath. He really needs water.  Weak eyes look back at Remi with a whole lot of questions than his brain can answer. The last memory he has is of him falling off the ring.

Ryan: I’m feeling a lot better now.. Ow.. okay, maybe not that great.

She looks a bit worried, unsure of what she needed to do to help him out.  She didn’t like hospitals and she was fidgety as it was but she was trying to stay still and not mess with the extra hair-tie that was around her wrist.

Remi:  You don’t have to be big and tough for me, it’s okay...do you need anything?  I can probably steal something from the cafeteria for you.  Although, I’m not sure hospital food is any good.  At least, it was horrible back in Hawaii.

She makes a face, remembering that little tidbit.  She offers him a smile, even though it was a half-assed smile because they were still in a hospital.  But she was going to be there, for him.

Remi:  Jello?

She tilts her head to the side, a small mischievous smirk on her face with a matching twinkle in her eyes.

Ryan: Some water would be nice.

Ryan had no idea why everything was hurting. But he had a pretty good guess. The bandages all over him made it clear that he was hurt badly. Though conscious for now, which was already a big step ahead. Trying to move on the uncomfortable hospital bed he regretted that idea immediately following a few grunts.

Ryan: So… tell me… How bad is it?

It was probably the worst time to be worried about how he looks.  She squints her eyes, cocking her head to the right as she looks at him before smiling.

Remi: I’ve seen a lot worse.

The honesty was written in her eyes and she gets up to get him some water, walking over to the movable table and pouring some water in a hospital cup.  She walks back over and sits down on the bed, next to him and this time a bit more closer to him.

Remi:  Don’t worry, I still think you’re bang-able.

She winks at him before looking at the cup then moving the cup to his lips to help him a bit with taking a drink.  She carefully tips the glass, slowly so she didn’t overflow him with the water. The water was exactly what he needed. And the confidence boost helped. Drinking the water gently Ryan was feeling a little less like dying. Airing out a small thank you he moves his lips away.

Ryan: I can count on you to say that. This isn’t so different than when we played doctor.

He smirks a bit before feel a few sharp pains all over his neck.  In a rush most of what happened circled around his head. Most noticeably he knows something’s missing. The SCW Roulette title... He knew it was too good to be true.

Ryan: Docs give you any idea how long I’ll be in here?

He is clearly in no shape to move, but in no mood to lay down all day in bed either.  She shakes her head no and unzips her hoodie and tosses it in the chair that she was supposed to be sitting in but refused to do so.

Remi: No, they won’t tell me anything.  I even tried to convince them that I was your wife but they didn’t believe me.

She purses her lips together and furrows her eyebrows together a bit before shrugging her shoulders and pulling her shirt down, recovering her scar close to her right hip.

Remi:  However, I am willing to try to sneak you out, if you want me to.

She grins at him before setting the cup on the table thing that was next to him, leaning over him to do so and purposely giving him a very good glimpse of her bra covered boobs.

Ryan:  You should have put a ring on it first….

Ryan did hate hospitals. An hour in there was like a lifetime outside. And he had no time to waste. He guesses that the fed paid for this place for him, but he was not going to stay here another second.

Ryan: You’d never had a bad idea before. Help me bust outta here and you’ll see me every Goddamn day..

But first he needs to be able to move. So far his arms and legs can move, but painfully. And he doesn’t even want to know why he’s in pain between his legs.  She laughs a bit, enjoying being the one that was encouraging such a bad idea but as long as she could get him to the airport and perhaps out of the state of California, they’d most likely be okay.  Until Mark Ward or Christian Underwood found out.

Remi:  Might want to put some clothes on first, hm?  I brought your bag with me...where did I put it?

She was talking to herself as she looks around the room before bending over to look on the bed.  She squeals happily when she finds the bag and puts it on the bed.

Remi:  Don’t worry, Mr. Keys...I’ll help you the best I can.

She winks at him as she rummages through the bag to find clothes to put on him.

Ryan: That’s sweet. Never heard you offer to put clothes on me.

Yet Ryan needed them. He doesn’t remember changing out of his ring gear, unless this hospital did that thing where they cut the person's clothes off. Which, honestly, was kinda rude. From how cold he was he thinks that’s the case. Swinging his legs carefully it pains him to even try and get up. Though he had no problem in pulling over the sheet on him.

Ryan: Just pull me out some pants. I think I can rock the bandaged look.

But in all honest he was just too hurt to be putting on a shirt.  She raises an eyebrow at him before pulling out a pair of sweatpants.

Remi: No underwear, Mr. Keys?  That’s a little brave.

She tried to keep a straight face but it was hard as she crawls across the bed and over to him to help him pull the pants on.  She squats down and moves just her eyes up to look at him as she helps him step into the sweatpants.  She slowly and maybe teasingly pulls his sweats up his legs and carefully over his junk, teasing a bit before making sure they were snug against his waist.

Remi:  That okay?

She asks him as she was on her knees, level with his pelvic area. She smirks at him before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on the skin just below his belly button before standing up.

Ryan: That was probably the most painful thing done to my junk…. But thank you.

He smiles and holds out a hand for Remi to help him up and out of the bed. His other arm though was attached to some tubes stuck on his wrist. His skin being pulled as he tried to move his arm. Looking back at Remi he can only imagine the pain that would be getting it off. Not even that kiss would make it better.

Ryan: I don’t suppose we can take this big metal thing with us…. Right?

He was honestly scared of the answer to that.  She bites her bottom lip as she looks at the tubes and gets lost for a moment in her own head, memories slipping back up.  She shakes her head and looks at Ryan as she weighed options in her mind on whether or not she wanted to help remove those tubes without raising questions about how she knew how to do it.

Remi:  No, we can’t.  But...just be still.

She takes a deep breath before moving closer to his arm and carefully removing the IV, trying not to damage anything as she pulls it out of his arm. She knew that it would probably be painful but she did it quickly, hoping it wasn’t too painful.

Remi: There.

She brings her lips down and kisses the spot where the IV had been placed before looking at him.

Remi: That wasn’t too painful, was it?

Scratch that. This was the most pain he has ever been on. He has his eyes still shut, trying very hard not to let the obvious pain show even if his eyes were watered. Making a few unhappy noises he pulls his arm close to him, hoping that he wouldn’t bleed too much.

Ryan: This is just one of those days…

What would come next was the walking part of this whole escape plan. Stepping out of the bed his feet touch the cold floor which doesn’t sit well with him. Pain shoots through his body and he dreads about how far they were from the next hotel, because there was no way in hell that he was getting home like this. Also, he was really hoping that whatever they shot in his veins wasn’t going to make him unconscious once again anytime soon.

Ryan: You got all your things, right. We have to go fast.

She carefully slips an arm around his waist to help him up the best she could with her petite frame.  She helps him walk to the door and she makes a shh noise before pushing the door open and peeking out into the hallway and seeing that nobody was around, which was a stroke of luck for the pair.

Remi: This might be a little more painful, but we’re going to have to try to walk fast.  I’m sorry.

She carefully moves out into the hallway with him and ushers him towards the elevator as fast as they could in his condition.  She glances around, trying not to look as if she was doing something illegal.  She presses the down button about ten times and then once the doors open she helps him into the elevator and helps him lean against the wall and presses the door closed button.

Remi:  Let me get an Uber…

She pulls out her phone and taps a few things and then smiles at him when she has one in place.

Remi: I don’t think you could get on a plane.  The hotel will have to do….is that okay?

She looks at him as she leans against the wall of the elevator next to him.

Ryan was fading in and out from the pain he was in. He has to be honest, he hadn’t quite gotten what Remi has been saying. His body felt like it was on fire, especially his throat. Coughing a bit he tries to breath and stay up on his feet. The cold elevator wall wasn’t bringing him much comfort but he doesn’t feel like moving.

Ryan: I got enough for a good place to stay. My wallet is in the bag.

Being extremely hurt doesn’t stop him from being a charmer. Holding himself up he picks at the bandages on his wrist and then at the ones on his neck, noticing that the cover a good portion of his face. He didn’t dare to try and look at himself.

Ryan: So… how are you holding up?

This was not the time for chitchat.  She gives him a look and wants him to just relax but maybe he needed a distraction from his pain and she didn’t mean the distraction she used to not think about things.

Remi:  I’m okay.

She shrugs her shoulders a bit before slipping an arm back around his waist as the elevator dings, letting them know they’ve reached the floor they were to get off at.  She helps him out of the elevator and out into the lobby area of the hospital.  It was dead as well, the receptionist away from the desk, which made for an easy getaway.

Remi:  Are you absolutely sure that you want to leave the hospital?

She looks at him. She didn’t want to push her fear of hospitals on him and make him leave it.

Ryan: We’ve come this far. No turning back now.

The time for regretting thing was gone the moment Ryan’s pants came on. And he was not about to relive everything he went through walking all the way here. Pulling Remi tighter against him he was sure that they was for the best.

Ryan: I’ll feel better knowing that I’m out… We’ll stay at a hotel tonight, then head out tomorrow.  If I can maybe I’ll hide out in your place.

She smiles at him helping him out to the Uber that was waiting for them.  She didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it better when he was at her place.

Remi: You can hide out at my place anytime you want.  But I must know, Mr. Keys….

She smiles up at him as she opens the door to the backseat of the car and helps him in before sliding in next to him.  She places a hand expertly on his upper, inner thigh and leans in, her lips next to his ear as she whispers.

Remi:  Who is it you’re hiding from?

Sitting was even more painful than standing. This also earned a spot up high on the most painful things to happen to him tonight. Relaxing he leans his head against Remi’s while trying to think.

Ryan: Well these hospitals aren’t cheap. And they’ll be asking where the guy with the cute girl went.

They also ran off without paying so that’s gonna come back to bite him.. A lot.  Settling in the card he was desperately trying to sleep, bute he didn’t know if he should. His eyesight fades in  and out while he  brushed his hand against Remi’s.

Ryan: I just want to feel at home. And I feel it when I am there, with you.

She blushes a bit before she looks at him and pats his face, trying to keep him awake.  She leans up and presses her lips flush against his, kissing him.

Remi:  You have to stay awake or I’m taking you right back to that hospital, okay?

With an amusing smile he leans and rests close to Remi, lips almost touching. No matter how hurt he is this was worth it.

Ryan: That’s fair. But you’ll have to drag me back the whole way. There is no way I’ll go willingly.

Trying to fight off his sleep he plays around with Remi’s hands, absent minded he was glad that she was the one that came for him. He would be bored as all hell if he was stuck at the hospital. As they’re on their way he feel a huge pain around his neck that makes him pull away a bit and cough into his arm. Red stained on his skin and he chooses to hide and wipe it off.

Ryan: Sorry about that…. I usually like getting choked… but that was a bit much.

She looks at him, a worried look had settled in her eyes as he coughed into his arm.  Maybe she had been wrong in convincing him to leave the hospital.

Remi:  Are you sure you’re okay?  We can go back to the hospital…

She looks at him again, studying his face  She wanted to believe that she would know if he was lying or not but she wasn’t good at reading faces.  Or faces that weren’t under the influence of drugs.

Remi: I don’t want you to die on me and it be all my fault…

She brings her hand up, cupping his cheek and gently turning his face so she could look at him properly.

Remi: I---I’d stay with you in the hospital, if you wanted me to.  If we need to go back…

Ryan: No! .. No, I’m alright. We don’t need to head back. I’m alright. Not going to die just yet.

He moves back to where he was, close against Remi. Staying back at the hospital would have just been miserable. This that he’s going through is nothing. Blowing out some air he was just shaking off some meds probably. Looking at how the driver was slowing down they were probably close to stopping.

Ryan: You can stay with me.. At the hotel. I’ll try not to be a baby the whole time we are there.

He talks with a few hints of pain on his face. His throat was killing him which made his voice raspy. The worst he can imagine is that the barbed wires punctured his throat in some way. If that’s the case he’d probably need to change his bandages.

Ryan: That is… if you want to stay.

She still looked worried as if something was going to happen and it felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  She hated that feeling; she’d felt it plenty of times as a kid and teenager.

Remi: Well….There was this one cute guy…

She grins at him before winking at him, teasing him a little.

Remi: Of course I’ll stay with you.  I’ll just have to text Edie to let her know that I won’t be back tonight.  She was going back to Vegas.

She pulls her phone out to send the quick message to her sister before carefully resting her head against his shoulder.  She could play nurse; she’d played it plenty of unwanted times as a teen, this time it would be different.

Remi: But just...let me know if we need to go back to the hospital…

She looks up at him, her head still against his shoulder.Ryan chuckles and rests his head against hers trying not to fall asleep.

Ryan: I’m sure. I just want to go, take a shower, get all this shit off me and sleep in a bed that doesn’t make me feel like I am dying.

Believe it or not Ryan has been in this sort of situation before. He used to come home with cuts all over, at time he would almost bleed out if it wasn’t for some friends that came to check up on him. With Remi by his side he’ll be better off than in a hospital. Rubbing his head on her hair he smiles.

Ryan: And I’m pretty sure that I can still kick that cute guy’s ass… just fine how I am.

She raises an eyebrow at him, smirking at him a bit.

Remi: Are you sure?  I mean, you’re kind of banged up right now…

She smiles at him before leaning against him just a little bit, her body fitting next to his like a glove.  She takes a breath and relaxes the best she can, even though her mind was moving a mile a minute, worrying about any sort of medical issue he could have.

Remi:  But I’m serious about the hospital Ryan.  If I think you need to go back, I’ll find a way to get you there.  I may be small but I have ways.

She sticks her tongue out at him in a childish manner.

Remi: I’d offer to help you in the shower...but I’m sure that’s not going to make it any easier…

She chuckles a bit to herself. Ryan’s mind was right at the same place, chuckling with her but at the same time thinking of the pain that would cause him. He is sure that Remi would sent him back to the hospital, but he was going to be fine.

Ryan: I’m sure that we can behave, right?

All the times they have told themselves that they would be have they ended up naked anyway. Smiling he goes to grab Remi’s hand before the Uber stops in front of the hotel. Looking out he was not looking forward to walking.

***
Ryan's Apartment
March 5th, 2017
Las Vegas, NV

The scene fades in from black and everything comes together. It's clear. Inside Ryan Keys's apartment we see the young superstar once again planning for the next show. Dressed in some black sweat pants that hung low on his hips he unconsciously runs his thumb over the faded marks on his neck. Though not visible anymore he can still feel them there, haunting him. As the camera pans closer, the TV is on replaying a familiar looking match. There on those last few minutes the ref calls for the bell and for medical assistance for a very hurt Ryan Keys. This made him chuckle as he doesn't remember anything of what happened after this moment. Yet he's trying to piece it all back together.  Pausing the video with the remote he breathes in deeply.  

”You know, every time I watch this match I think about what I could have done any different. Should I have gone areal? Should I have tried to take Chris tap out? Should I have played dirty? But every time I do it just sounds wrong. I think about how it different would it have gone if I trained more before. But that's still wrong. I gave everything I had in that match against Shipman, even from the start. But I feel like there is something I need to fix."

He presses a button to rewind the footage of the match completely to it's start. here was no way that he wasn't prepared to face Chris Shipman. His training had been none stop for weeks before the match was even called. Ryan would come home crushed from the endless hours of running ropes and hitting a punching back until his sweat stung his eyes, and every breath burned. Clutching the remote he starts the match from the beginning and pauses it during the initial brawl.

”A barbed wire massacre match. I think that's one of the points were things changed. Guess wearing close to nothing didn't help me at all in this but I did great for my first time in a more hardcore environment. I held my own in a bar fight against Steve Ramone, but I'm used to those. But nothing that I went through on that match compared to the needle like pain the barbed wire had. But that only stopped me a little. I got used to it after a while. I thought that was what I need to fix. When I could fully walk again I set up a special ring just like this one. Running ropes using barbed wire takes a bit to get used to. You stop feeling them after a while, but they're still there. Through that painful training I thought that being comfortable with hardcore matches would fix me. But it didn't. It only makes me stronger from here on.”

He shakes his head as he plays the match. Looking carefully Ryan stops and fast forwards the part where he landed groin first in the barbed wires. No amount of training can prepare anyone for that. He lets the video play until the interference starts.Pausing it there he has a pretty good idea of what need to be fixed.

”This right here is something that needs to be fixed. Everything. From the interference down to Steve Ramones balls. It doesn't matter how much I trained back then, or train now this is still gonna be a problem. But this is were we all are different from Steve. We don't need to use other people to get our way, we make our way happen. I keep learning, growing, and getting better, and he'll stay the same. That moment when he doesn't have people to fall back on is when he'll stop being a problem. I can handle him in the ring, in fact anyone of use can take on Steve with only his goons to worry about. But the moment our match gets announced and he doesn't get that chance he's over. His goons, Andreas and Cyrus are nothing. His 'Girl' can't even get our attention, because Shipman is a weird fuck, Travis doesn't care and I erected more attention last night than she's ever done. let's face it, Steve Ramone needs fixing. But he's too stared to walk away from whats comfortable for him to see that."

He takes a deep breath, and then nods his head. That whole interruption was pointless. Chivalry got the better of him just then. Letting the match run he's already seen enough. Putting the remote down he focuses his ice cold eye on the camera.

”From this point on I don't know what else needs fixing. I have worked on my self long and hard trying to fix and sharped my skills. So I can't be what needs fixing. I could argue that Chris Shipman needs fixing but we all know that is something impossible. He's a walking hazard that is best to avoid and let him wreck himself. It's what happened in his match against Travis. Crashing through most of that strip club Chris did more damage to the property than Travis. And that's why he lost. Even with the interference again by Steve I myself could have won that match. It was in my element. But that's just how the roulette goes. I get stuck with barbed wire and Travis gets the sleazy strip club. But seeing at how he's nowhere to be seen I'm guessing he caught something from that place. Or he caught something from Kaylee? I don't know, I should ask him about that because for a man that claims that he doesn't need a reason to appear on the show he's nowhere to be seen. When I'm the SCW Roulette Champion again I'm fixing what he's ruined from that title. If anything I know that needs to happen."

Ryan looks down and thinks about everything he did for that title, and chuckles lightly to himself. Though he's stayed humble there is no denying that he's willing to fight for it again. Looking back towards the camera he raises a brow.

"At Blaze of Glory I will fix what has gone wrong with the Roulette titles name. As the only guy with some sort of moral, and desire to give back to the crowd I'll use their support in fighting to get the retribution I deserve. I've been knocked around by these guy long enough. It's time for me to fight back.. and since I'm not playing with guys that fight nicely then I won't either..."

A smirk appears on Ryan's lips as he picks the remote back up and waves it around.

"Now that is a show no one will want to miss."

With the touch of a button instead of the TV turning off it was the camera that switched off, ending the scene.  

 Title: “Fighting back”
January 18nd, 2017 Athletics Gym, Las Vegas Nevada
Off Camera


On a cold morning the day started out grey and wet. Rain streamed down the windows of an old school gym in the middle of town that could be seen just as a cold blur. Ryan looked through it from time to time, it seemed to take his mind off things.

His friend Jace almost dragged him to this place for old times sake, a huge place dedicated to boxing, MMA and wrestling training. He sat at a bench taking a small break at a room with a handful of guys working out or sparring like he used to do in the old days. There was music playing, yet it blended in the background among the grunts and sounds of fits hitting pads. The lights filtered from the high windows that made everyone look exhausted more than they already were.

Ryan himself was exhausted. His wet hair stuck to his forehead as the rest of his body looked drenched with beads of sweat sliding down his bare chest and tattooed arms. He breathed heavily while tightening up the tape he had on his hands and wrist that had come loose after jabbing and punching a bag for what seemed like hours. His cold eyes stared blankly at an old poster on the wall showing the first Roulette Champion, Lucian Frost. It was amusing to see that this place dated back not that far.

Soon his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat  Which startled him a bit.

“Jesus!”

He looked up, panting, and a smile broke across his face. Finishing his tape he wiped the sweat off his forehead accepted the hand of his friend, Jace who stood there looking at him. It made sense that he would be there to snap him out f things, Jace always found a way to burst his bubble. Getting to his feet with easy Ryan pushed the larger guy mockingly, but due to his size he didn’t go far. Wiping the sweat off his chin with the back of his hand he caught another breath so he could get back in the small ring.

“Not Jesus, but you’re close. Came over to see if you weren’t dyin’ on me.”Jace mocked with an amused look. Always his usual ‘Dickish’self that Ryan had grown to know all too well. “Heard you were getting a title defense this early. People must have faith in you, or they want to take you out this early. “

Ryan nodded and rested his hands on his hips.  ”A bit of both, but that’s never stopped me.”

“How’s it goin’ so far?” Jace asked. “You looked pretty beat up last time I saw you,”Ryan glanced at the tall guy and shrugged. He was a bit banged up a week ago, but now he’s 100% back up.

“I’ve come back from worse.”

“Like shit you have. You’re just one lucky son of a bitch.” Jace smiled.  “And now you have a belt to show for it.”

Ryan nodded,  “That I do.”

“Well come on, don’t let that get to your head or you’ll drive us all crazy. Lets sparr or hit the bags.”Jace offered. He sniffed and padded Ryan on his shoulder.  “Let’s beat the hell out of each other.”

*

Jace let Ryan sweat himself sick for forty minutes hitting a pair of sparring pads and they don’t stop until the stiffness left his shoulders and the urge to hit each other became too strong. Ryan is fast, strong and unpredictably precise. He’s one of the best Jace had ever trained with; dedicated and clever. Not impulsive like a lot of guys.

They sat together on the edge of the ring, legs dangling, Ryan was getting his breath back and Jace was all too aware of his aching body.

“So this will be a rematch, right?”

“Right.”

“And you already beat this guy to be a champion, champions get paid well, so it’s worth it to deal with all the shit that comes with having the belt.”Jace swept sweat off his forehead, and shook drips out of his hair.

“Yeah but a match like the one we had. It really took a lot out of me.”

Jace smiled at Ryan and patted his back.  “Yeah. But that’s why you gotta leave your morals at the door if you wanna win.”

“I don’t know if I’m okay with that.”

Jace shrugged one shoulder.  “It’s pin or be pinned, I guess. But you know how he fights.”

Ryan lefts the sentence hanging in the air and it weighed him down, it sank  into his chest like an anchor. Maybe he wasn’t a champion like the rest, then again this was his chance to make his own legacy.

Ryan looked over at him and back across the room, watching the others. All tall and well built. Perfect fighters. “ Then I will just fight back. That’s what I do best. I can take Steve down.”

“That’s the spirit. And in doubt, use a chair. I always loved to see those wrestlin’ fuckers use them.” Jace looked down and he picked up his pads.  “So, wanna go again?”

"Yeah."

Ryan slid back under the ropes and got up to fight back.


Outside Golden Coast Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada
On-Camera

Ryan keys’s week was a tough one to deal with, but he still fights on. He’s trained hard and built up his confidence, never losing the grip on what was important. He was going to prove that he was a fighter, and prepared for his upcoming match ready to defend his hard work. Even if he had a lot to learn he wasn’t about to psych himself out and lose. He was going to prove a point art Inception II and show that through it all, he was SCW’s Roulette champion. And he was ready for any challenge. Taking a sharp breath while standing outside the Golden Coast Casino, with his title draped over his shoulder he smiled up at the camera.

Ryan Keys:  “We are back at it again, aren’t we Steve? I can’t really say that I didn’t see this coming, Steve always did come back for more. And that’s what I like about him. But I want to make something perfectly clear. This is going to be my first title defence at SCW, and I will do anything to survive this match and walk out still a champion. I was Steve to know what kind of mindset I will have on our match. It’s pin or be pinned.”

He wanted to make that perfectly clear. With a serious tone on his voice Ryan was on a mindset to win at all costs. Taking a few steps he stared right at the camera.


Ryan Keys:  “Steve you are a man trying to get back what was once his, and I can respect that. If I was in your shoes I would be doing the same. We both have worked in our own way to get this title, but at the end of the day it came down to the guy that wanted it more, the guy that fought the hardest, and that guy was is me. I know that you are a great fighter, and I might be giving you too much credit, but you are a veteran in the ring.  It would only make sense that you’d be a champion, but maybe not the Roulette champion. This match can be your chance to finally see that. “


Ryan let that thought linger as he ran a thumb across the plate where his name was on the title. It all became to real when he saw that the first time. Everything he has fought for paid off

Ryan Keys:  “I saw you in that #1 Contender's battle royal for the SCW Heavyweight championship. And I was surprised as everybody else when you were eliminated. But then it clicked. Maybe that is where your name belongs. Maybe you should go for the Internet championship. That sort of suits you. And me?  I am  where I belong. Do I feel the pressure of being a champion? Sure I do it belongs, but it’s an amazing feeling that I am just learning to appreciate. I accept that I am a very beatable champion, and I anticipate defeat at any moment… I just don’t know when. So I will keep fighting and do what I do best. And that is enough to let me know one truth. And that is that I will win at Inception II.”

Nodding his head he felt confident about his in-ring abilities. And the knowledge that he has pinned Steve multiple of times in a row. Ryan has learned about his mistakes in his pasts, he’s learned from Steve's mistakes in the past. And all he had to do was fight against the other's strengths.

Ryan Keys:  “I didn’t start this war, but but I am always going to fight back. I know you have an aerial advantage over me. But on everything else we are pretty even. The only wild card we have it’s the stipulation that we’ll have depending on the roulette. That can turn the match in a number of different ways and that is what’s so exciting about the Roulette title. But despite the match I still have the skills to beat you, I am strong, I am fast, and believe it or not but I’m smart. I have every ‘key’ quality that has gotten me this far,and even if it took several months, took several loses, I still managed to come back in the end. “

“I said it once and I’ll say it again. I haven’t proven myself as a champion among the other champions, but that is all going to change. When I defend my title I will do it as a fighter that has everything to lose. I will defend my title with the fair fight I wanted to have against you at the start of the year, and I won’t rest until I get that fight against you. If you didn’t take me seriously then, take me seriously now. This is your chance to step up and prove that you have some fight in you. I’ll be waiting for that. “

“It doesn’t matter if I am making things harder for me by telling you take this seriously… I have prepared myself for whatever fate the roulette rolls into, and I will fight. But then again having a title hasn’t changed that. I am still the same man that stepped into that ring at Blaze of Glory V , only with a lot more knowledge of what to do and when. I do that in every match I go into. And nobody has seen me do otherwise.”

Ryan placed his hand on the Roulette title belt and looked up at the camera. This was the symbol of his growth and the mark of how far he’s gotten. And he will fight for it.

Ryan Keys: “Steve, I am ready for this. Even if you believe I am or not I don;t give a damn. This is Inception II and we need to do our best to show where we stand. This is the last time that we will face each other for the Roulette title and I plan to make this a memorable match. This is my match to win, and my last chance to put you down for a third time in a row. I don’t say that to brag, but I have more on the line than you do. I mean serious business in my matches and I hope that you do too. It’s important to me to win this match and I am going to take it. To put this in words that you can understand…”

“This message has not been paid for or delivered by the “Fearless One” Steve Ramone. But the rightful SCW Roulette champion, Ryan Keys approves it.”

Ryan smirked as he adjusted the Roulette title belt on his shoulder and started to step back from the camera. In the end he turned his back to the camera and walked away.  

  “Rockbottom”

The place was nothing but a dingy sweatbox crammed with guys eager to forget themselves. Thirsty for blood. Starving for it. A dead end place where the lowest of the low came to entertain themselves with violence and gambling, where dirty money was thrown left and right while they placed their bets.

Ryan cracks his knuckles and paces the ring, jaw set, focused on the man opposite, tracking him. He squints and sweats in the spotlights. Cheering comes from all around them, Spanish and English, filling his head, raising his pulse. An empty beer can rolls out across the mat and he kicks it away.

The other guy is big. Over 6'5” for sure and wide. But big like that means slow and stupid. Means easy. Ryan’s not worried.

The bell clangs and Ryan lets the big guy unload on him for a few seconds, a barrage of inexperienced punches crashing down on his raised forearms. Frenzied. Ryan waits for the guy to tire just a little and kicks out at his left knee, bringing him to the ground with a meaty thump.

The crowd yells its dissatisfaction. They don’t want it over like this. Not so soon.

Ryan lets the guy up, wobbling on his right leg now. Lets him swing a massive fist and Ryan ducks swiftly under it, stepping back.

“Come on big guy.”, he taunts, fists barely raised. “At least try?”

The guy snarls like a wounded beast and lunges at Ryan, pushing him back into the post and knocking the air from his lungs. He coughs against the guy’s shoulder, sucking in a stinging breath and bracing himself on the ropes. He shoves his knee into the guy’s stomach, feels it swallowed momentarily by fat and the guy falls away from him, landing heavily on his back.

Ryan massages his sternum and watches the guy struggle up, breathing like he’s just run a mile, sweat pouring over his face and down his neck.

He lunges again and Ryan side steps him, catching a little of the force on his right shoulder and spinning to face the guy’s rebound from the ropes. Ryan kicks up high and catches him square under the chin and it’s lights out before he hits the ground.

The guy won’t be getting up anytime soon. He counts that as a good night’s work and bows out, ribs still aching. He hops down from the ropes and feels hands slapping at his back, roughing up his hair.

In the corridor away from the noise and heat of the ring, his mind quiets. He stretches his arms over his head and rolls his neck as he walks, feeling the adrenaline of the fight draining away and leaving a sore empty ache in its place.

He goes to the usual office to collect his pay, wanting a shower and the smell of the big guy’s sweat off him. The gym owner, a guy with too many dumb addictions and too few brain cells for Ryan to ever call him friend, sits with his feet propped up on his desk, a cigarette dangling from his lip. Security camera monitors flicker dimly in front of him, the light reflecting and glinting off the chains at his throat. He tears his eyes away and looks up.

“Hey, Ryan, that was a good fight. Ended a little too soon, but I ain’t complainin’. You always get the job done, right?” Boston accent. A little drunk.

“Danny I came for my money, not a pep talk.’”Ryan holds out his hand, hating the smoke that hangs in the room like a stale fog and fights to keep eye contact.

Danny looks at him for a moment and then smiles, taking the burning cigarette from his mouth and placing it carefully in an ashtray to his left. He pulls his feet from the desk top and pushes his chair back.“Of course. Of course you want your money. Always the business man,” he rifles in the desk drawer and Ryan can’t help but think he’s making a god damn show of it.

“See, thing is, Ryan,would you sit for Christ’s sake-”

“No thanks.’

“You’re making me nervous, standing there like that.”

“I just came for my pay, nothing else. Just wanna go home.”Ryan stares him down,blue eyes hard, hand still outstretched. He motions hurry up with his fingers.

“Look. I gotta tell you. You’re too good for these guys, okay? You don’t even give ‘em a chance-”

“Danny.” Ryan warns, something in the pit of his stomach telling him this is about to go bad somehow. Danny closes the desk drawer, cash clenched in his fist.

“This is all I can do, okay?”

He hands over the money and Ryan can see his hands shaking, marks where his yellowed fingernails have bitten into his palm. Ryan looks at the money for a few seconds, and then up at Danny. Now his stomach is sinking down through his gut.

“This is thirty dollars.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“It’s not even half. Where’s the rest of it?”

“Like I said, that’s all I can do.”He takes a stressed drag on his cigarette, maybe just to have something to do with his hands.Blowing out the foul smog he smiles. “You could always entertain people in the back for somethin’ extra. Can think of a few people that would pay for you.”

“Are you fucking with me?” Ryan says quietly, gaze not wavering from Danny’s increasingly pale face. Every word that came out of his mouth made him sick.

“I don’t want no trouble, alright? Things are a little tight right now, that’s all.”

Ryan let out a disbelieving laugh. “This is shit, Danny. How the fuck am I supposed to pay my rent? How the fuck am I gonna eat?”

“I’m sorry man,” and he looked it. “You’re just not bringin’ in enough money anymore. No one wants to see you tear a guy apart in two fuckin’ seconds. It's not sportin’. Like I said, you’re too good for these guys now.” Another puff of smoke drifts up to join the rest. “Maybe show off a little for the crowd, show some skin. Maybe that will bring in the money.”

Anger sparks up through Ryan’s body like lightning. White hot and sudden. He flings the money back at Danny and it drifts lazily through the air.

“Keep it, you useless piece of shit.” Ryan points a finger at Danny, dead still in the silence and smoke. “You’re lucky I don’t knock your teeth down your throat for this.”

He can hear Danny calling out to him as the office door crashes shut behind him. Can hear his voice following him down the hall to the changing rooms like a bad smell. Fifty eight steps of peeling green paint and worn lino to the showers. If he can get that far he might make it the rest of the way home without committing murder. He slams the changing room door open and comes to a dead stop.

“Welcome to Fabulous Sin City Wrestling”

A flyer that he had somehow missed was now staring at him dead in the face. His anger grew mild as his thoughts ran. Anywhere was better than a dead end place like this one. The only problem is, Ryan wasn’t a wrestler. At least, not yet.

Taking his focus away from the flyer Ryan furiously picks at the tape around his wrists and peels it off, tossing them aside. He was still so heated by the way he was played. This dump was really getting on his nerves, and knocking guys out was starting to get old. Still in front of the door he closes his eyes and breathes. But his moment of peace gets interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

A guy sits on the bench directly ahead of him, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the lockers. Wide shoulders. Military-like. For a second Ryan thinks this guy might be here to kill him; he looks so much like a hitman. Ice grey eyes and a shaved head, black jeans, boots and trench coat. Expensive watch.

“What is it my birthday or somethin’? Who the fuck are you?” Ryan says, palm still flat on the door, coming down from the anger that had flared in him so fast he feels dizzy.

The guy smiles a little, actually more of a smirk. Huge jaw on him and unkempt stubble. Difficult to read. “You Ryan?” arms still crossed, nonchalant. His voice is low and deep like the rumble of a Dodge.

“Who’s askin?”

The guy’s smile widens. “You know, when people say that it usually means I got the right guy. That was a nice fight out there.”

“Thanks. I still don’t know who you are,”Ryan’s hand is steady on the door, his palm a little clammy.

“My name’s Ortiz, Michael.” He nods a greeting. Ryan nods back.

“So what exactly are you doing in here? You know this is my changing room?”

“I was hoping so. I have a proposition for you. Shut the door.”

Ryan’s hand slips off the door and he steps back, leaning on the back of it and hearing it click shut. The guy, Ortiz, looks big but Ryan is sure he can take him. “How’d you find me?”

“I asked around.”

“Oh yeah? What d’you ask?”

“I asked who was the best.”

Ryan feels the corner of his mouth go up in the beginnings of a smile and fights it off. Ortiz uncrosses his arms and leans forward, looking at Ryan like he’s for sale. “You got any vices?”

Ryan keeps his eyes on Ortiz, trying to get a read on him that makes any sense. Too sharp and too tactful to be anything gang-related. Didn’t waste words, only said what needed to be said. Dressed wrong, definitely not from Vegas. Too rough around the edges, too dangerous–looking to be a serious professional.

“Nothin’. Just fighting.” Ryan hears himself say this and can’t quite work out why he isn’t half way to the parking lot by now.Michael nods like he doesn’t believe him and doesn’t care.

“You have a passport?”

He’s ticking things off a list.

“Sure. But I don’t think we look alike enough for you to get away with it, I’m  much better looking.”

Michael breathes out a laugh and Ryan notices his eyes are blue, not grey. “Don’t worry about that. I have my own.”He pats his coat pocket.

“Are you gonna tell me what this is about, or are we gonna play twenty fucking questions all night?”

Michael holds his hands up like Ryan’s got a gun on him. “Alright, alright. Listen. This place is a hell-hole. I think you know that.” The light bulb in the ceiling flickers like it's making a point. Michael’s hands come down and rest on his jeans. Big, strong. Scarred knuckles. “You’re wasted, man. Too good for these assholes. I’ve been to your last three matches, and you’re about as good as it gets around here. But I don’t need to tell you that, right?”

“I’m getting déjà vu.”Ryan crosses his arms, shifting against the door. He is about ready to kick this pseudo hired-gun out on his ass and go home.

“I have an opportunity for you. To fight against real guys, to earn real money, real fast.”

“Sounds too good to be true.”

“It's in London.”

Silence weighs the room down like it's a sinking ship.

“As in, London, England?”

“The very same.”

“Why the fuck would I want to go there?”

“You sick of your life? Because you fuckin’ look like it. You want out? You won’t get another chance like this. Ever.”Michael's eyes are direct and nearly painfully intense and Ryan wants to look away, wants to break this up and forget all about this entire fucking day, but there is something niggling inside him. He could go. There is nothing for him here anymore.

“Legit?”

“Sure. Not legal, but I’m guessing that doesn’t bother you any. And there’s more money in it over there than here, I promise you that.”

Ryan is quiet, his mind running at a million miles an hour. Michael stands up and Ryan sees that he is a good few inches taller. Stands like he spends all his time slouching down to accommodate shorter people. He reaches into his coat pocket.

“Here. Your plane ticket.”

Ryan takes it, not even sure its real.

“I don’t care if we just go fucking sight-seeing and then you come straight back to this dump. But get on that plane. You got nothing to lose.”Michael looks him in the eyes like he’s cornering and simultaneously trying to comfort him. Its an unnerving effect. Ryan swallows and holds the ticket in his hands, trying to scrape his thoughts back into his head under that gaze.

“Take this. And call me when you leave.” Michael hands him a card with his cell number scrawled across it, UK digits. Ryan unconsciously takes it and steps aside, hearing him go, still staring down at the ticket.

*

Three days later he sits on the edge of his bed, with nothing but the flickering TV and faltering air con unit for company. He’s had the phone cradled in his hand for near on twenty minutes now, staring down at it like he"s waiting for it to ring.

He knows it won’t.

"She isn't going to call."

"Why would she?"

"How could she know?"

He clenches his fist around it for five more seconds, the plastic creaking under his grip – five, four, three - last chance – two, c’mon, please -- one -- and lets it drop to the carpet. The plane ticket sits on the bedside table, promising so much its almost impossible to believe. He fishes his wallet out of his pocket and counts the money he has left, cursing his temper and suddenly missing that thirty dollars. He doesn't have enough to pay for his room another night.

Pretending that’s what did it, and not that he’d known from the second Michael offered, Ryan starts to pack his things. Stuffs a toothbrush, a few spare clothes and his gym gear into a black duffel bag and realizes that’s all he owns. Feeling like something out of a cheap novel, he swings the bag over his shoulder and snatches the plane ticket up into his hand. Folds it in his wallet. He leaves the room, closes the door quietly behind him and doesn’t look back.


A cab to McCarran International Airport takes the last of his real money.

And a phone call to Michael takes the rest.

“Hello?" His voice is so low it’s like the phone shakes with it. Ryan thinks maybe he"s woken him up.

"I’m at the airport."

A few seconds of silence.

"I’m very glad to hear that."

"Really, you sound like you don’t give a shit," He looks around, in the warm dusk, at the lights and the people and knows he won't miss it.

Michael laughs softly. "I had faith in you. What time d’you land?"

"6am."

"Okay. I can pick you up from the airport, I’ll be outside." Ryan hears him yawn and the rustle of sheets. Sees him stretching in the dark or rubbing his eyes and feels bad for keeping him awake.

"Just sight-seeing, right?" I’m putting all my faith in you and I don’t know why -

"Right," He hears the smile in Michael"s voice.

"I gotta go. Check in time."

"Sure. Anyone you wanna call, let them know where you"re going? Better do it now."

Ryan reads between the lines and sees because you might not get another chance.

"I got no one to call."

The saddest words he’s ever said come out of his mouth and it's like the world opens up on him and he falls. He feels sick. Michael starts to say something back but the phone runs out of quarters and the line goes dead.

Ryan hangs up and rubs his face, trying to clear his head. Something about this feels so final, and he hasn’t had time to say goodbye. Not to Vegas. Not the heat. But to this life. Maybe to himself.New beginnings are around the corner, and this time Ryan was going to take a chance to make something of himself. To prove that he can do more than just fight for his next meal.