The corridor outside the SCW booking office was unusually silent for how electric the night had been. The only sound was the low hum of the massive digital match board mounted on the wall—names flickering across it like a neon prophecy.

Miles Kasey stood beneath it, arms crossed over his chest, a chill in his spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. The light from the board cast harsh, flickering reflections across his face, outlining the sharp tension in his jaw as his eyes scanned the match listings.

SCW Heavyweight Championship
Helluva Bottom Carter vs. Artie.

3-Round Boxing Match
Miles Kasey vs. LJ Kasey.

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared.

Next to him, Carter let out a breath somewhere between a groan and a laugh. The newly crowned Internet Champion tilted his head as he read his own name and scoffed under his breath.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Carter said. “Artie?”

His tone was incredulous, but Miles wasn’t listening. His eyes remained locked on his own name—specifically, what was sitting across from it.

LJ.

Of all the possible outcomes... this was the one thing Miles hoped wouldn’t happen. And of course, it had.

Footsteps sounded behind them—fast, uneven. LJ came into view, still in his gear from earlier, a towel slung around his neck and bruises forming beneath his skin. He looked exhausted, physically and emotionally drained. At his side, Alexandra Callaway walked silently, her hand ghosting across LJ’s lower back as if trying to anchor him.

LJ followed the others’ gaze to the screen. And then he saw it.

His name.

Miles’.

“Are you fucking serious?” LJ growled, stepping closer to the board as if reading it again would make it disappear. “This is what Guy pulled with King for a Day?”

Miles didn’t respond. He glanced to the side, past his brother, and looked directly at Ally. His expression was unreadable, but the frustration was thick enough to cut through concrete.

“This,” Miles said slowly, “is exactly what I was talking about.”

Then he turned and started to walk away.

“Nope,” LJ snapped, reaching out and grabbing his older brother by the arm. “No. You don’t get to drop some cryptic bullshit and walk away from me. What the hell did that mean?”

Miles turned back, shaking off the grip but not violently—just enough to create distance.

“It means this whole damn thing is working,” Miles said. His voice was calm, but underneath it ran something dangerous and sharp. “Guy got exactly what he wanted. You think this match is random? It’s a setup. Chaos by design. Divide and conquer.”

LJ squared his shoulders. “Then why’d you look at Ally like it was her fault?”

Ally’s eyes widened slightly, and she tensed next to LJ. Before she could speak, Miles raised a hand.

“I wasn’t blaming her,” Miles said firmly, looking between them. “I was pointing out the pattern. This EXACT same pattern that she just pulled tonight. They’re putting targets on our backs, forcing us into corners. You think it’s a coincidence Carter’s defending his title against his friend, and I’m suddenly meant to beat the hell out of my brother in a damn boxing match?”

Carter shook his head. “I said it once and I’ll say it again—this is some straight-up soap opera bullshit.”

Ally stepped forward, voice gentle but firm. “This is what he wants—Guy. He’s stirring the pot. Trying to make the story him by tearing down what you’ve built. If you let it get between you…”

“Ally, I’m not mad at you. But this is what I was talking about earlier tonight,” Miles said, looking straight at LJ now. “But you need to be pissed, LJ. You need to understand what’s happening here. You, me, Carter—we’re getting fucking played.”

LJ stepped forward, chest rising with the kind of fire he hadn’t felt since before his injury.

“Well, then what? You want me to back out? Sit on the sidelines while they turn me into a joke?”

Miles tilted his head. “No. I want you to walk into that match like a professional. Like my brother. Not like someone with something to prove.”

The silence stretched long and thin.

“I’m not scared of you,” LJ said at last.

“I didn’t say you should be,” Miles replied. “But you should be angry. Just not at me.”

LJ clenched his jaw, staring at his brother hard. “Fine. We do this. Three rounds. No bullshit.”

Miles gave a small nod, the tension easing from his shoulders but not disappearing. “Right. No bullshit.”

They stood there, brothers caught between pride and principle, the looming match pressing down on both of them like a weight. There was no love lost between them—just the burden of respect, of legacy, of everything they’d fought to build now twisted into a spectacle.

And somewhere, Guy—King for a Day—was probably laughing.

Carter huffed, dragging his palm down his face. “And I thought I had a bad night.”

As the board flickered again and the hallway dimmed slightly, none of them moved.

Because this time... the fight wasn’t about gold.

It was about blood.

----

"The Present Problem"

The door creaked open with a quiet groan, the kind that only old hinges and desert heat could conjure. The air inside the house was somehow thicker than the sun-blasted sidewalk outside. Miles stepped in, a sheen of sweat clinging to the back of his neck, his gym bag slung lazily over one shoulder. He wiped his brow with the bottom hem of his shirt, squinting into the dim hallway.

"Why does it feel like Satan’s armpit in here?"

No answer.

He kicked the door shut with his foot and dropped his bag at the base of the stairs. The only sound was the distant hum of a fan whirring somewhere in the living room. That and—wait.

Thud.

Scrape.

A muffled curse.

Miles’s brows drew together. He turned the corner and froze halfway into the kitchen.

Carter was on all fours, halfway under the couch, ass in the air and glittered sneakers kicked off beside him. The couch cushions were scattered across the room like confetti at a rave. A trail of what looked like gift wrap remnants, scotch tape, and a pair of scissors led from the coffee table to the hallway closet—which now stood wide open and very empty.

Miles leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “Should I even ask?”

Carter jerked his head up and smacked it against the underside of the couch.

"Ow!—shit, damn it—"

Miles raised a brow. “Was that the couch fighting back or your conscience?”

Carter wiggled backward out from under the couch, cheeks slightly flushed from both effort and embarrassment. He brushed dust bunnies off his t-shirt—the one that said ‘This Body Ain’t Built for Manual Labor’ in glitter letters.

He grinned sheepishly. “Hey, babe.”

Miles didn’t return the smile. He was too busy trying not to laugh.

“You wanna tell me why it looks like a raccoon had a meltdown in here?”

Carter sat cross-legged on the floor like a kid caught raiding the cookie jar.

“I’m looking for something.”

Miles feigned surprise. “Noooo, really?”

Carter pouted. “It’s hot, I’m bored, and someone has been being very sneaky lately.”

Miles walked over, nudging a couch cushion aside with his foot before collapsing onto the armrest. He eyed Carter with an amused smirk.

“Let me guess... you're looking for your birthday present.”

Carter lit up like he'd just been told he won Miss Congeniality. “Yes! Thank you! See, you admit it exists! You’ve been hiding something! I knew it!”

Miles groaned, tilting his head back. “It’s not even the 13th yet, you absolute goblin.”

Carter dramatically clutched his chest. “I’m a Gemini, Miles. I literally don’t have the patience to wait. My other half is already plotting to stage a heist.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “Your other half better chill before both halves get grounded.”

Carter smirked. “You’re just mad that I’m clever and pretty.”

Miles snorted. “Nah, I’m mad because you turned the living room into a crime scene. You thrive on chaos, more like.”

“Tomato, chaos.”

Miles dropped his head back down to look at him again. Carter’s curls were a little damp from sweat, his cheeks pink from crawling around like a lunatic in 105-degree heat.

“You know,” Miles said slowly, “if you’d just wait, you’d find out.”

Carter narrowed his eyes. “Where’s the fun in waiting?”

Miles chuckled. “That’s what you said on our wedding night.”

Carter gave him a look, then leaned forward on his knees.

“Come on, just give me one hint.”

“No.”

“Half a hint.”

“No.”

“A riddle? A poem? A vague haiku?”

Miles shook his head, amused and exasperated. “It’s hidden somewhere you definitely won’t find it. So stop tearing the house apart like a spoiled golden retriever.”

Carter huffed, flopping dramatically onto the floor like he’d just lost a title match.

“I’m dying of anticipation,” he moaned.

“You’re dying of being dramatic.”

“Same thing!”

Miles slid off the armrest and crouched beside him, brushing a strand of hair from Carter’s forehead.

“Look, I promise, it’s worth the wait,” he said softly. “And no, it’s not in the couch, the freezer, the coat closet, buried in the bottom of my underwear drawer because I KNOW that is the first place you’d look OR taped to the bottom of the coffee table.”

Carter narrowed his eyes. “So it is taped somewhere.”

Miles blinked. “I said no such thing.”

“You said it in your tone! That was a clue!”

“I swear on all things holy, if you dismantle this house trying to find it, I’ll wrap you in bubble wrap and lock you in the basement of the building where NO ONE would find you but me.”

“You love me too much for that.”

Miles paused. “...Okay, fair.”

Carter leaned up, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “Just remember. You’re dating someone who’s made of glitter and spite. I will find it.”

Miles rose to his feet with a sigh. “You better not, Carter. I actually like this house intact.”

He started walking off toward the bedroom, mumbling to himself.

Carter flopped back onto the floor, arms sprawled out.

“You’re lucky you’re hot and emotionally available,” he called after him.

“And you’re lucky I hide things better than you box,” Miles shot back.

Carter gasped. “Rude!”

The tone from the phone gave him a clue that the gift was ready.

Miles smirked.

-----

"Hands Like Lead, Heart Like Stone"

The gym was quiet after hours.

All the lights were off, save for a single overhead bulb swaying gently above the ring. It flickered now and then, casting shadows across the ropes like ghosts pacing back and forth. Miles Kasey stood just inside the ropes, taping his hands in silence, the sound of the adhesive stretching the only noise in the room.

Boxing gloves lay on the canvas beside him, mocking him.

He hated this.

Not the fight—never the fight.

But this fight.

A boxing match against his own damn brother. Set up by a lunatic with a god complex and a shiny briefcase. It wasn’t wrestling. It wasn’t competition.

It was manipulation.

It was a game. One he didn’t want to play.

Miles sat on the edge of the ring apron, looking down at his hands. The knuckles were already starting to redden, sore from hitting bags and pads all afternoon. He flexed his fingers, wincing as memories bled through the cracks.


Thirteen Years Ago — Manchester, England
Shamrock Boxing Club, 10:47 PM

It stank of sweat and stale cigarettes. The walls were old brick, chipped and cracked like the kids who trained inside them. You didn’t come here if you had other options. You came here if the world had tried to forget you.

And Miles Kasey? He was well on his way to being forgotten.

Fifteen, cocky, and fueled by anger he didn’t know how to name. He was tall and damn near as thin as a rail. 182, MAYBE soakin’ wet and a chip on his shoulder. He had scrapes on his knuckles and attitude in his voice. He’d just come from some back alley yarding match with a busted lip and a few extra quid in his sock.

“Oi!”

The voice cracked through the air like a whip.

Miles turned, eyes sharp and defensive. Across the gym, an older man—built like a truck, arms covered in ink—stood beside the heavy bag, wiping his hands with a towel.

Frankie O’Connell.

Owner of the gym. Ex-pro. Scariest bastard on the block.

“You got some brass ones walkin’ in here like that, kid,” Frankie said, nodding to the blood still fresh on Miles’ shirt. “What were you doin’, brawlin’ in car parks again?”

Miles shrugged and sniffed. “Made more than I would moppin’ floors.”

Frankie approached slowly, the thud of his boots echoing through the empty space. He stopped in front of Miles, who stood his ground—barely.

“You keep that shite up, you’ll end up dead or in the back of a van, and no one’ll remember your name. And your dear ol mum and beautiful sister will wonder what the hell happened to ye.”

Miles rolled his eyes.

Frankie grabbed his chin—not hard, but firm enough to demand attention—and forced him to look up.

“You listen to me, Kasey. You’re quick. You’re angry. And you’re a bloody idiot.”

Miles jerked away, jaw tight. “I’m doin’ fine.”

“You’re doin’ nothin’. You’re wastin’ whatever talent you’ve got scrappin’ with gutter rats for pocket change. Yer no better than yer old man.”

“What the hell ever, bruv. If this is all you called me ‘ere for..I’m just gonna go home.” Miles turned to leave.

“OI! MILO!” Then Frankie threw the gloves.

They hit Miles in the chest with a dull thump. He caught them on instinct.

“You show up here tomorrow, 6 AM. We box. I’m gonna show you that there are far better ideas than you tossin yerself around a broke down ring like a fuckin’ moron. Or you can keep pissin’ your life away out there. Your choice.”

Miles looked down at the gloves in his hands. They were old. Stiff. Smelled like hell.

He hated boxing.

But something about the weight of them... felt real.


Present Day — Las Vegas

Miles jolted slightly as his mind returned to the present. His jaw clenched as he wrapped the final piece of tape around his wrist and tore it off with his teeth. He tossed the roll aside, stood up, and stared at the gloves waiting for him.

He still hated boxing.

Not because it wasn’t wrestling. Not because it was hard.

But because it forced him to slow down.

Boxing wasn’t chaos. It wasn’t wild swings and tables and jumping off ropes.

Boxing was precision. Timing. Discipline.

And discipline was something he had to earn—not something that came naturally.

He walked to the center of the ring, bent down, and slid his hands into the gloves one at a time. He tightened the straps with practiced ease, stood tall, and faced the heavy bag that hung just beyond the ropes.

Three rounds with LJ.

It wasn’t fair.

But then again… nothing in this business ever was.

He threw a jab. Clean. Snapped back.

Another.

Left hook.

Right cross.

And then he heard Frankie’s voice again—clear as day, echoing through years of sweat and bruises.

“Boxing’s not about killin’ someone, lad. It’s about outlastin’ the worst of ‘em. It’s not who hits hardest. It’s who keeps their feet when the rest fall.”

Miles exhaled hard through his nose.

No, he didn’t want to fight LJ. Not now. Not like this.

But if Guy thought he could pit brother against brother, force a fracture in something built through years of pain and persistence—then he didn’t understand what kind of men the Kaseys were.

Frankie had taught him to survive.

The ring had taught him to fight smart.

And now?

Now he had to be smarter than ever.

The silence in the locker room was deafening, broken only by the soft thwip-thwip of tape wrapping around his wrist. Miles sat on the bench, shoulders hunched, the summer heat thick in the air around him. No music. No distractions. Just him, the walls… and the growing knot in his chest.

“What the hell is this even supposed to be?”

He pulled the tape tighter, let it bite into his skin.

“I spent most of my life not knowing he existed. No birthday cards. No family photos. No late-night chats. Just silence. And then suddenly—bam—little brother. Right there, walking into my life like he belonged… and maybe he does. Maybe he always did.”

His hands paused, fingers flexing, the tape dangling from his wrist.

“We didn’t grow up tossing the ball around. We didn’t fight over the TV or sneak out to matches together. We met as strangers. We bonded in chaos. And now someone’s decided that the next great chapter in our so-called brotherhood should be me punching him in the face in a goddamn boxing ring.”

He stood up abruptly, tossing the roll of tape to the bench, pacing in front of the lockers like a lion trapped in a cage.

“This is bullshit.

It’s not like last year with Carter. That match was tangled in emotion — love, pride, pain — but Carter and I? We'd built something. We were forced with no choice and you better believe that we had fun throwing that shit directly back in Victoria’s face. But LJ?

I don’t even know everything about him yet.”

Miles rubbed his jaw, eyes drifting toward the door. The hallway beyond held the sound of distant voices—preparations, people hyped for the spectacle. For the circus.

“And we’re the main event freak show, huh? Two Kasey brothers. Punch for punch. Blood for blood. Like it’s entertainment.”

He scoffed, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to hurt him. I don’t care how mad he is, or how much fire he’s walking in with. I’m not out here to break my brother’s spirit just because someone with a crown and a contract thinks this is ratings gold.”

He sighed, leaned back against the lockers, and stared at the ceiling like it might have answers he didn’t.

“But I’m also not throwing this.

Because here’s the part no one talks about—I'm not in the prime of my career anymore. I’ve had the titles. I’ve had the moments. And now? I don’t know what comes next. Every match could be the one where I start to fade. Every opportunity could be the last.

So yeah. I hate this. But I’m not going to lie down and let it pass me by just because fate’s got a fucked up sense of humour.”

He looked at his fists. Scarred. Taped. Ready.

“If we’re doing this… then I’ll do it my way. I’ll step into that ring and I’ll give him every ounce of respect he’s earned. Not as a stranger. Not just as some wide-eyed rookie. But as a brother — a Kasey — standing across from me, ready to prove something.

I won’t go easy on him. But I’ll never stop protecting him, either. Even if protecting him… means knocking him down and making sure he knows how to stand the hell back up.”

He drew a deep breath, centered himself, and gave one final thought as the camera might fade:

“I didn’t grow up with a brother. But I’ll be damned if I don’t teach him how one fights when it really counts.”

The camera caught up with him backstage, dim hallways echoing the distant sound of a crowd still roaring from the earlier show. The buzz of Amsterdam hung in the background like static, but in this moment, all that existed was the low hum of fluorescent lights above and the fire in Miles Kasey’s eyes.

He stood with his back to the camera, hoodie tugged over his head, hands clenching the railing that overlooked the loading dock. Slowly, he turned, hood falling back, revealing a jaw locked tight and blue eyes glowing with heat just beneath the surface.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Miles started, voice low and cold. “Was gonna keep it professional. Be the bigger man. But that’s not who you are, is it, Kevin? And of course, I feed you the opportunity to go face to face with me...only for you to not be bothered to actually show your face. You were just out there for the main event but can’t be fucked to give a shit about Into the Void. Now usually, I would take that as an insult.”

He laughed bitterly, rubbing a hand across his face.

“But I get it, bruv. You don’t do ‘respect.’ You don’t do ‘professional.’ What you do is run your bloody hotdog sucker like it’s your greatest weapon, when really, it’s just a reflection of how deeply insecure you are. You think hiding behind ego and a spotlight somehow makes you untouchable. That throwing dirt on people like Carter makes you look strong.”

He leaned in closer to the camera, eyes narrowing.

“Newsflash, asshole: it just makes you a bleeding coward.”

The venom in his voice was real now, uncoiling like a serpent set loose.

“I remember it. I remember as you stood over a man I love, you saying the things that you said and you doing the things that you did, and you acted like it made you some kind of a fucking king. You think that’s what a champion looks like? Nah. That’s what a scared little boy looks like, someone who knows deep down they don't have what it takes to hold onto something real without resorting to cheap shots and bullshit tactics. Because that is ALL you fucking are, Kev....you are a bullshit artist.”

He paced now, barely able to contain himself, fists clenched at his sides.

“And don’t think I forgot. You remember the last time we stood across from each other, Kevin? Because I do. Clear as fucking day. Just before you went to face Carter. You weren’t the champion then. Though you were hungry for that spotlight. Focused and practically salivating. And still— I beat you. Clean. No excuses. No distractions. I pinned you to the mat and took the win you thought was guaranteed.”

He stopped pacing, head tilting as a slow, dangerous smile crept onto his face.

“And ever since then? You’ve done everything in your power to pretend that loss didn’t happen. Like if you don’t acknowledge it, it never existed. Like it was some fresh corpse in your closet. But it did. And that moment… that was a sign of things to come. Honestly, if I was the kind of dick that most of Wolfslair claims I am, I could have easily skipped over the Clusterf*ck match and demanded a shot but I did it to prove a point.”

A pause. He looked dead into the lens now — calm, cold, resolute.

“You’ve had your moment in the sun, Kev. You’ve talked the talk, stomped your enemies, and walked around with that title like it made you some untouchable shitbag. But in Paris, at Into the Void… I’m taking the mic away. I’m taking the spotlight. And I’m taking BACK the SCW Internet Championship.”

His voice dropped to a growl.

“And when I do? When I tear it out of your hands and hold it over my head for the world to see? You’ll remember exactly who the fuck I am. And you’ll remember what it’s like to lose… again.”

Miles bends down and when he stands up with a paintbrush in his hand. “So from one bullshit artist to another, here, you can have this.”

He throws it at the camera.

“I don’t want it anymore.”

He stepped back into the shadows, letting silence fall over the scene like a closing curtain.

------

South London streets, late afternoon, inside a rented car

The rental smelled like cheap leather and overcompensated air freshener. Heathrow had been a mess — loud, overcrowded, the kind of place that seemed designed specifically to suck the joy out of international travel. Miles gripped the wheel with one hand and rubbed his temple with the other as they turned onto a narrower street.

“Every bloody time, love,” he muttered. “No matter how many times I come through, that airport makes me wanna set my own passport on fire.”

Carter chuckled beside him, arms crossed as he stared out the window. “They treat carry-ons like you’re smuggling gold bricks.”

“Right? And that customs guy looked at me like I personally insulted the Queen.”

“Well, you do say ‘God Save the Spice Girls’ on your entrance jackets.”

Miles smirked. “Oi, and don’t act like that wouldn’t be a banger of a remix.”

They fell into a lull as the car rolled past the stacked brick flats and newsagents, the dull buzz of London life filtering through the windows. It wasn’t home anymore — not really — but it tugged at something familiar. Something deep.

“You good?” Miles asked after a minute, his voice quieter.

Carter shrugged. “As good as someone can be when, as they are recovering from a concussion, they’re wrestling their husband’s former mentor and the universe keeps throwing gut punches.”

Miles didn’t press. He just nodded, drumming his fingers lightly on the wheel. The road narrowed again.

“You?”

Miles snorted. “I’m about two seconds from throwing a brick through Kevin Carter’s windshield.”

“Promotional or actual brick?”

“Both.”

That pulled a laugh from Carter, a low rumble that felt a little earned after the day they’d had.

“I dunno,” Miles said after a pause. “Feels different this time. Like I’ve been clawing my way through the last year, trying to get back to something I can actually stand tall in, and now it’s here. Title match. Paris. Spotlight.”

He let out a slow breath. “And I gotta share it with him.”

Carter was quiet again. Listening.

“You remember how he talked about you?” Miles said, glancing sideways. “Like you were a mistake. Like you didn’t earn what you built. And now I’ve got him across from me and all I keep thinking is — this prick still doesn’t get it. Still thinks the Internet title is some prop for his ego.”

“He’s gonna try to push your buttons.”

Miles grumbles, “He already has....and he’s barely said two fucking words towards or about me since I won that Clusterf*ck match.”

More silence. The road opened up again, traffic thinning as they turned onto a residential stretch. Miles rolled his shoulders, letting the tension fall off in layers.

“You do know that I’m not going into Paris to play the hero, right? I’m not walking into Paris with a chip on my shoulder,” Miles said, eyes still on the road, jaw tight. “I’m walking in with a bloody purpose.”

Carter glanced over, sensing the shift in tone.

“Kevin likes to pretend that the Internet division revolves around him. That every match is just another chance for him to remind the world how great he thinks he is. But this ain’t about stroking egos.”

Miles gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

“I’m going in there to remind Kevin Carter that I’ve been forged by fire since the last time we faced off — and I beat him then. I’ve bled for every step forward since. I’m not the up-and-comer he brushed past on his way to the top. I’m the storm that’s coming straight for him.”

He paused, then added, softer, “I don’t wanna say that I’m not you. Because you are about to become the world champion. But I will be damned if I won’t whoop his ass worse than his daddy ever did. I won’t let him walk out with that title again.”

Carter didn’t answer at first. Then he glanced over, voice low.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to fight him for me, babe.”

Miles looked confused. “Then for what?”

Carter’s lips lifted in that half-smirk he always had when he meant something.

“For you.”

------

The living room was bathed in soft golden light, the last stretch of sun drifting in through the large front window. Riley sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, a superhero cape tied too loosely around his neck, one sock half off and clinging to his toes. He held a plastic T-Rex in one hand and a crayon-gripped drawing in the other — something that vaguely resembled a wrestling ring and a very heroic-looking version of Uncle Miles with rocket boots.

Miles lay sprawled on the carpet beside him, one arm folded under his head, the other stretched out as he dramatically allowed the T-Rex to defeat him for the fifth time in a row.

Riley jumped to his feet with a triumphant squeal. “Uncle Miles, you DIED again!”

“Tragic, innit?” Miles groaned, face down. “Taken out by a dino and a four-year-old tag team. Guess I better retire now.”

Riley giggled and sat on his back like it was a throne. “I’m the new champion!”

“Ruthless. Just like your mum.”

“RAWR!” Riley roared, raising the T-Rex high in victory.

Miles let out a chuckle and turned just enough to look up at him. “You know, I could use you in my corner next week. You’d scare off half the locker room just by stomping in.”

Riley beamed, proud and unbothered by the weight of the world adults carried around.

Then, the phone buzzed against the floor nearby.

Miles sat up slowly, brushing off a few crayon shavings from his arm. He glanced at the screen.

Ben Jordan.

He hesitated for a beat.

“Gimme a mo, little champ,” he said softly, ruffling Riley’s curls as he stood. He crossed to the far end of the room near the kitchen and answered the call.

“Ben?”

“Miles, mate, I’m so glad I got ahold of you. I’ve got something. It’s not much, but... he was seen.”

Miles’ heart stopped, then stumbled forward like it had forgotten how to beat right.

“Where?”

“East LA. Three days ago. Same description you gave me — same hoodie. Jaime caught a glimpse of him near a food truck across from a clinic. Said he looked thin. Scared.”

Miles swallowed hard. The warmth from earlier was already draining from his chest.

“Did she talk to him?”

“No. By the time she turned around again, he was gone.”

Silence fell between them, thick and cold.

“I’m sorry, mate,” Ben added gently. “We’re closer, but I know that ain’t what you wanted to hear.”

Miles leaned against the wall, eyes shut, jaw locked tight.

“No... it’s... I appreciate you calling.”

“You alright?”

Miles looked over at Riley, now laying on his back, cape spread like wings, humming to himself.

“I will be. It’s nice to know he’s alive at least. I need to get the tour over with. Thanks for the ring, Ben. If you hear anything...”

“I’ll be in touch, mate.”

He ended the call quietly and set the phone down.

The ache crept back in. Not loud. Not sharp. Just there — like a stone in his chest that refused to move.

He sat back down beside Riley, who climbed into his lap without a word, settling in like he somehow knew.

Miles held him close, letting the silence do what it could. Just for a moment.

------

The lights were dim, the curtains drawn. The hum of the city outside couldn’t reach him here.

Miles paced the room like a caged animal, barefoot on the carpet, fists clenched tight at his sides. The bed behind him was untouched, the clock on the nightstand reading a time he didn’t bother to acknowledge.

He stopped in front of the mirror and stared at his own reflection — jaw set, eyes dark. His voice came low, bitter, sharp.

“You ever notice how Kevin Carter never shuts the fuck up about himself?” he said to no one. “Like he walks into a room and it’s a goddamn event. Like the sun only rises ‘cause he decided to get out of bed that day.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“Guy’s been riding that same fake gold reputation for how long now? What is even more insane about this? There are people that keep buyin’ into it too, like he’s some unbeatable legend. No. He’s not a legend. He’s a leech.”

He turned from the mirror and paced again, running a hand through his hair.

“Every locker room he steps in, he poisons. With that smug little smirk. With that overhyped, over-polished, hollow-as-fuck swagger. He ain’t special. He’s a parasite with a God complex.”

He stopped and looked toward the door like he could see Kevin on the other side.

“You ain’t a champion, Kev. You’re a coward wrapped in designer clothes and Twitter soundbites. You hide behind that bullshit smile and your carefully crafted image like the scared little fraud you’ve always been. ‘Cause deep down, you know. You know if it was just you — no smoke, no mirrors, no backup, no mind games — you wouldn’t last five minutes in the ring with someone like me.”

His tone dropped lower, colder.

“You look at me like I’m some nice guy you can talk down to, like I’m just another stepping stone in your cute little path back to relevance. Nah. I’m the last motherfucker you should’ve poked, Carter.”

He leaned forward on the dresser, both hands gripping the edge.

“You think I forgot the disrespect? Every time you looked at me like I wasn’t worth your time. Every little backstage jab. Every subtle reminder that I was just ‘Miles Kasey — the little brother, the afterthought.’ You think I forgot all the bullshit?”

He stared at his reflection again.

“I’ve been quiet too long. I’ve let people like you talk their way to the top while guys like me bleed for this business. That ends now. You’re not better than me. You’re not smarter. You’re not stronger. You’re not more deserving.”

His voice cracked slightly — not from weakness, but from the raw fire behind the words.

“You’re just louder.”

He stood up straight, breathing steady but shallow now. The kind of breathing that comes right before impact.

“And I’m gonna shut you the fuck up.”

The Next Step

Miles sat on the edge of his hotel bed, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at his phone with a mixture of exhaustion and frustration. Everything felt like it was too much to handle—Kevin’s disappearance, the madness of Blaze of Glory, and the ever-looming uncertainty that seemed to follow him like a shadow. The pieces of the puzzle didn't fit, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out where to even start.

Carter sat beside him, offering the only thing he could—silent, unwavering support. He didn’t need to say anything. His presence was enough. But Miles could feel the weight of the question in the air: What now?

Miles ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. “What the hell do I even do now?” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you for so damn long, love. Kevin’s out there. All I know is that he went back to LA. I know that his dad and the other two hellions are there. After that? No leads, no signs. We’re just—stuck.”

Carter’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Miles’ knee. “Ok, I keep having to explain this to you...but you don’t have to do this alone. You had LJ helping you before you even told me and that is an argument to come still BUT...we happen to know someone to help with the next step, babe.”

Miles looked up at Carter, eyes heavy with a mix of confusion and uncertainty.

“You know someone who might be able to help,” Carter continued. “Someone who’s been there. Someone who can track this down.”

Miles frowned, his brow furrowing. He didn’t immediately understand, but Carter’s expression was steady, sure. “Who?”

Carter leaned back, a thoughtful look crossing his features. “Ben Jordan. He and Jamie Dean run an LGBTQ+ kids’ shelter in LA. It’s called Oasis. They help kids who’ve nowhere to go, who’ve lost everything… maybe Kevin’s found his way there.”

Miles stared at Carter, his heart skipping a beat. He didn’t want to ask for help, didn’t want to reach out to anyone—but if there was a chance, just a chance, that Ben and Jamie could find Kevin…

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

Carter nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll reach out to them, get the connection started. You’ll have answers soon.”

But before Carter could dial, Miles stood up, pacing the room for a moment. He was restless—tired of the uncertainty, the waiting, the lack of control. This was bigger than him. But if there was any chance to get Kevin back, to help the kid who had come to mean so much to him, he had to at least try.

After a few seconds, Miles turned back to Carter, his resolve clear. “No, I’ll call. It’s better if I do it myself.”

Carter said nothing, simply nodding as he watched Miles dial the number.

The phone rang a few times before a familiar face appeared on the screen. Ben Jordan, the wrestling legend, looked every bit as relaxed and confident as he always had. His years away from the ring had done nothing to dull the warmth in his eyes or the strength in his presence.

“Well, if it ain’t Miles bloody Kasey,” Ben greeted with a grin, though there was a hint of concern lurking behind his easy demeanor. “Been a while, mate.”

Miles managed a smile, though it was fleeting. “Yeah, I know. I should call more often. But, uh, this time… I need a favor. A big one.”

Ben immediately picked up on the tension in Miles’ voice, his grin faltering just slightly. “Alright. What’s going on?”

Miles ran a hand through his hair, then glanced at Carter, who was sitting back, watching quietly. Then he looked back to Ben, his expression serious. “There’s a kid. His name is Kevin. Kevin Chapman. But knowing him, he’s going to go by a different name if any at all. He’s… well let’s just say I feel responsible for him, in a way. And he’s gone missing. Last we know, he made his way to LA. But with everything that’s going on, I don’t have a clue where to start looking for him and until Blaze of Glory is over, I can’t get there to even start searching.”

Ben’s brow furrowed with concern, and as if on cue, Jamie Dean’s voice called out from somewhere off-screen.

“Did I just hear you say ‘missing kid’ and ‘LA’ in the same sentence?” Jamie’s face popped into view next to Ben, and the lightness in his expression shifted to one of seriousness.

Ben looked to Jamie before returning his gaze to Miles. “Mate, sounds like we might need to step in.”

Miles exhaled, his shoulders heavy. “Carter reminded me that you two run Oasis now. I thought… if Kevin’s out there, scared, lost… maybe he found his way to you.”

Jamie shifted closer to Ben, studying the screen. “You got a picture? Anything we can use to get started?”

Miles nodded, reaching for his phone and pulling up the last photo he had of Kevin. He held it up to the camera for them to see.

“This is him,” Miles said, his voice quieter now. “It’s the last time we saw him. He’s been through a lot, so if he’s rougher now, that’s probably why.”

Ben and Jamie both studied the picture intently, their expressions serious. After a beat, Ben nodded slowly.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do,” he said, his voice firm with resolve. “We’ll check around the shelter, see if he’s been through. If not, we know the places where kids like Kevin go when they’re lost and scared. We’ll find him, Miles. We won’t stop looking until we do.”

The weight that had been pressing on Miles’ chest seemed to lighten just a little. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t even begin to explain how much this means.”

Ben gave a small smile, his eyes warm. “Don’t thank me yet, mate. But we’ll get on it. We’ll keep you posted.”

Jamie gave a quick two-finger salute. “We got this, Kasey. Don’t worry.”

Ben ended the call, and the screen blinked back to black. Miles stared at it for a long moment, the weight of the uncertainty still looming but not as crushing as it had been before.

Carter gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “That’s a step forward.”

Miles nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah… it is.”

He exhaled, sitting back on the bed, his mind still spinning but now anchored by a small spark of hope. The road ahead would be long, but at least now, there was a direction. And in this moment, that was enough.


This Is the Moment We Live Forever

Miles stands in the middle of the ring, his eyes intense but his body language betrays his inner turmoil. He takes a deep breath, then begins.

“You know, sometimes life throws these moments at you, where everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve sacrificed, gets put to the test. This… this is one of those moments. Elimination Chamber. The chance to prove once and for all that I belong at the top. To become the number one contender for the SCW World Heavyweight Championship. But let’s take a good look at the road ahead, huh? I’m not just dealing with the usual suspects. No. I’ve got a few interesting names to contend with.”

He points up as we see the Elimination Chamber hanging high above him.

“The Elimination Chamber. The match that separates the men from the boys, the weak from the strong. This is the match that’s going to determine who really belongs at the top of SCW. And I’ll be damned if I’m not the one who comes out as the number one contender.”

“You know, sometimes life throws these moments at you—where everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve sacrificed, gets put to the test.”

He lets those words linger, his voice carrying the weight of experience. His free hand rubs over his face as if trying to ground himself.

“This… this is one of those moments. Elimination Chamber. The chance to prove once and for all that I belong at the top. That I’m not just another guy passing through, not just another name on the roster. The chance to become the number one contender for the SCW World Heavyweight Championship.

He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders back. His expression hardens.

“But let’s take a good look at the road ahead, huh?”

He raises his arm, pointing upward. The camera zooms in on the towering Elimination Chamber, hanging ominously above the ring like a death sentence waiting to be carried out.

“The Elimination Chamber. A match that separates the men from the boys, the weak from the strong. A match that doesn’t just test you—it destroys you. And at the end of the night, only one of us is walking out of there with a future shot at the World Heavyweight Title. That’s the reality we all have to face. And I’ll be damned if I’m not the one who survives.”

Miles takes a step forward, gripping the top rope for just a moment before letting go. His tone turns sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife.

“But let’s take a minute to break down the people I’m gonna have to eliminate to get there.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Miles’ lips, but there’s no humor behind it—just disdain. He tilts his head slightly, his voice laced with venom.

“Let’s start with the so-called ‘Bulldog’ Bill Barnhart. You know, I’ve got a real problem with guys like Bill. The ones that talk a big game, throw all these accusations around, but the second you hit them with the real thing, they cry about it. They act like they never said a damn word. It’s easy to talk, Bill. It’s easy to stir the pot. But when it’s time to step up and back up that talk, that’s when you fall apart. And trust me, I’ll be the one showing you just how far you fall.”

Miles looks over to the video screen as it runs footage. Clips of Barnhart running his mouth in interviews, clips of him losing control in the ring, getting frustrated when things don’t go his way.

“Bulldog Bill Barnhart. Bill, Bill, Bill… You’re a classic case of a ‘loudmouth’ who thinks he can just walk into the ring and dominate. But let’s be real for a second—Bill doesn’t have the mental fortitude to back up that bravado. He’s got a mouth on him, and he knows how to rile up a crowd, but when it’s time to back up all that talk, Bill falls short. He’s the kind of guy who will try to bulldoze his way through, swing hard and heavy, but you’re not gonna win with pure brawn alone. This isn’t some brawler’s league. You’re gonna have to think, Bill. You’re gonna have to use that brain of yours—something I’ve noticed you seem to lack, more often than not. You’ll try to use your size and power to intimidate, but this match is about survival, not strength.”

A dry chuckle escapes Miles as he shakes his head.

“And then we’ve got Senor Vinnie, the ‘former champion.’ Look, Vinnie, I get it. You’ve had your time. You’ve had your moments. But now? You’ve lost your edge. And it’s not that you’re not good, it’s just that… you’ve lost your damn mind. I mean, seriously, the guy’s a great talent, but I’m not about to let someone who’s completely off the rails get in my way. Especially when I know what’s at stake. You can’t outlast the young and hungry. And right now, that’s me.”

The lights in the arena flicker momentarily, a symbolic representation of Vinnie’s unstable nature. A quick cut shows Vinnie rambling in interviews, his erratic behavior making headlines.

“Now, Vinnie, I’ll give you credit where it’s due—when you were on top, you were a force to be reckoned with. You had your time in the spotlight, no doubt about that. But what happens when your best days are behind you? What happens when your own arrogance catches up with you? That’s where you’re at now, Vinnie. You’re living in the past, holding on to a title you’ll never see again. And now? Now you’re just trying to hold on, trying to hang with the younger, faster generation, and it’s not working. Your time’s passed, and the only thing you’re gonna do in that Chamber is get put down by the new blood—me.”

Miles runs a hand through his hair, his expression shifting slightly. There’s a flicker of respect there.

“Then there’s Eddie Lyons. Young. Hungry. The...”Unbreakable” One. Ready to take the world by storm. Eddie, I know what you want. You want to be on top. You’ve got the potential, the raw talent to make it happen. I respect that, I really do. But this… this is my time. I’ve been clawing my way through this business for too long. You’re not just going to waltz in and take what’s mine. So yeah, Eddie, I’ll fight you. I’ll make sure you know that you’re not ready for this level. Not yet.”
He exhales, shaking his head. His eyes darken.
“Eddie’s one of those guys who’s got a lot of potential. He’s hungry. I get it, kid. You want to be a star. You want to step up to the plate and show the world you’ve got what it takes. You want to prove yourself. But you’ve gotta understand, Eddie, this isn’t some training ground. This isn’t a tryout. This is the big leagues. And you don’t have what it takes yet. You’re still green. You’re still figuring it out. And while you might get a lucky shot in here and there, when you’re up against someone like me, you’re gonna be out of your depth. You want to be at the top? Fine. But get ready for a crash course in how much pain it takes to get there. And trust me, Eddie… you’re gonna learn it the hard way.”

As the screen switches and shows J2H Miles scoffs, rolling his shoulders back. He shakes his head, pacing slightly in the ring.

“And then there’s J2H. The cocky son of a bitch who thinks every time he dusts off his boots, the world should bow down to him. Here’s the thing, J2H. You can make all the promises you want. You can talk about wanting to face Finn for the World Title again, but guess what? That ain’t gonna happen. Not while I’m breathing. Not while I’m standing in that ring. And I’m gonna be the one who puts you back on the shelf, where you belong. You’ll have to keep dreaming about the top, because that’s where I’m headed. Not you.”

A brief highlight reel plays—J2H’s legendary victories, his arrogance on full display. Miles watches the screen for a second before smirking. He leans on the ropes, staring directly into the camera.

“This man who thinks the world revolves around him. I mean, look at this guy—he’s got a reputation, and he’s done some things in his career that can’t be denied. But here’s the problem, J2H—when you’re as arrogant as you are, when you think the world owes you everything, it doesn’t matter how many championships you’ve held or how many matches you’ve won. It’s the same old song. You think you’re the star, you think you’ve got it all figured out. But here’s the truth: your time has come and gone. You’re living off past glory, and now, when it matters most, you’re a sitting duck. You can trash talk all you want, but when that door locks, and it’s just me and you? You’ll realize that I’m the one who’s evolved, the one who’s ready to take the reins. And you? You’ll just be another name on my list of eliminations.”

Miles’ demeanor changes slightly. The energy in the arena shifts as a clip rolls of Jayden’s defiant promos, his attempts to step out of his father’s shadow.

“Jayden Harris. The boy with the chip on his shoulder. You want to talk about family legacies? Well, guess what, Jayden? I know exactly what that feels like. The weight of the sins of the father hanging over you, always looking over your shoulder, always being reminded of what you could be… but what you never will be. You think you’ve got something to prove, but let me tell you something—if you take yourself too seriously, you’ll end up just like your old man. And trust me, that’s not a path you wanna walk down. So I’m gonna beat that chip right off your shoulder, Jayden.”

A pause. A slow shake of the head.

“Now, Jayden’s an interesting case. He’s the son of a legacy—a family name that he can’t shake, no matter how hard he tries. I get it, Jayden. I’ve been there. But here’s the difference between you and me: I didn’t hide behind my family’s name. I didn’t let it define me. And that’s where you’ve gone wrong, Jayden. You’ve got this chip on your shoulder, trying to prove to everyone you’re not just a second-rate version of your father, but let me tell you something—you can’t outrun that legacy. You can’t keep running from it. And in that Chamber, when the lights are brightest, that legacy will be your downfall. You’ll crumble under the pressure, and I’ll be the one to finish what you can’t. You can try to outrun it. But legacies? They always catch up to you”

Miles exhales sharply. His posture stiffens. The arena falls eerily silent.

“And finally… we come to Carter.”

Miles’ tone shifts. His blue eyes grow darker as his voice tightens with emotion, but there’s a vulnerability to it now.

“Carter… you’re the one I never wanted to face. You’re the one I’ve always trusted, the one I’ve always loved. And if this was any other time, any other situation, I would’ve walked away. I would’ve stayed out of your way. But the truth is… I want this title. I want to prove that I’m not just some shadow, some younger brother riding on your coattails. This is bigger than us, bigger than our history together. And as much as I hate the idea of having to fight you, I know there’s no other way to get there. I’ve got to take this shot, Carter. And that means stepping over you to get to the top.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze softening for just a second before it hardens again.

Miles’ voice cracks slightly, the vulnerability creeping in. He shakes his head and looks down for a moment before continuing, his words slower, heavier.

“Carter… I never wanted it to come to this. You’ve been my everything—my partner, my rock, my love. You’ve been there through all the bullshit, through everything that’s tried to break me. And if it were up to me, I would never, ever put us in this position. But you know as well as I do, sometimes, in this business… it’s not about what you want. It’s about what you need.”

“I need this, Carter. I need to prove to myself that I’m not just living in your shadow, that I’m not just a footnote in your career. I need to prove that I deserve to stand on my own. And as much as it hurts me to say it, you’re standing in the way of that.”

Miles’ voice turns hard once more, the pain turning into resolve.

“I don’t want to fight you, Carter. But I will. I will, because if I don’t, I’ll never get to where I’m supposed to be. And the reality is, if we’re both in that Chamber, one of us isn’t walking out as the number one contender. And if that means I have to take you down, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. I don’t want to, but I will. For myself. For the title. For everything I’ve worked for.”

Miles takes a deep breath, his voice firming again as he looks dead into the camera.

“So, everyone in that Elimination Chamber? Prepare yourselves. Because I’m coming for that title, and nothing is going to stop me. Not Bill. Not Vinnie. Not Eddie. Not J2H. Not Jayden. And definitely not Carter. The countdown to the top starts now, and I’m not waiting for anyone.”

He turns and walks out of the frame, leaving the scene with that final feeling of anticipation.

Miles stepped through the heavy glass doors of the Las Vegas Police Department, the fluorescent lighting casting a harsh glow over the bustling precinct. Officers moved about, engaged in their daily work, but Miles had only one focus as he made his way toward a familiar face.

Before he could take another step, however, a voice called out to him from the holding area.

"Yo, man, you gotta tell ‘em I was just trying to impress my girl!"

Miles turned his head, finding a disheveled young guy gripping the bars of one of the holding cells. He was grinning like a fool despite his obvious predicament. "Come on, Kasey, you’re a big deal! Tell ‘em I wasn’t really stealing that car—I was just borrowing it for a quick spin!"

Miles smirked and shook his head. "Jake, you’re an idiot. If you’re trying to impress a girl, maybe don’t commit grand theft auto."

"But she loves bad boys!" Jake whined, causing a nearby officer to roll his eyes and walk off.

"Good luck with that," Miles chuckled before making his way toward Detective Wesley LaSalle’s desk.

Detective Wesley LaSalle was seated at his desk, sifting through paperwork, but he looked up as soon as he sensed someone approaching. Recognition flashed in his eyes, followed by a hint of surprise.

"Miles Kasey," LaSalle said, setting his pen down. "Wasn't expecting to see you here. Last time we talked, things were a hell of a lot different."

Miles pulled up a chair across from the detective’s desk, his expression serious. "Yeah, tell me about it. Look, Wes, I need a favor. It's about Kevin."

LaSalle’s brows furrowed. "Kevin? You mean Karen's kid?"

Miles nodded. "Yeah. Ran into him a few weeks ago. He looked... rough. I tried to talk to him, but he bolted. I need to find him."

LaSalle exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Miles, you know I’d help if I could, but that kid’s a ghost. After Karen was convicted for what she did to Carter, Kevin’s dad took him and his siblings to California. That was right after the trial. I checked the records—Kevin ran away about a month later. Since then? No real leads."

Miles leaned forward, determination etched into his face. "I get it, Wes, but that’s not good enough for me. The kid’s out there, somewhere, and I need to help him."

LaSalle studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Okay. If you’re serious about this, start with the local shelters. If he’s still in Vegas, he’s gotta be crashing somewhere."

Miles gave him a tired smirk. "Already did that. First thing, actually. Checked out some of the rougher spots in town too. Had to tell Carter I was at the gym just to keep him off my back."

LaSalle shook his head. "You always were stubborn. Look, Miles, I gotta ask—why does this mean so much to you? I mean, I know you care, but this seems personal."

Miles took a deep breath, glancing away for a moment before meeting the detective’s eyes again. "Because I know what it’s like to be that kid. When I was his age, I did some stupid—really stupid—things. If it weren’t for my sister and my mom, who knows how I would’ve turned out? But Kevin? He doesn’t have that. His mom’s in prison, and his dad’s stuck trying to keep it together for the other two kids. Kevin’s alone. And I can’t just let him slip through the cracks."

LaSalle nodded slowly, the weight of Miles' words settling in. "Alright. I’ll do some digging, see if I can turn up anything. No promises, but I’ll let you know if I find something."

Miles extended his hand, and LaSalle shook it firmly. "Thanks, Wes."

As Miles stood to leave, LaSalle called after him. "Hey, Kasey. Be careful, alright? You might find what you’re looking for, but it may not be what you expect."

As Miles turned to leave, another voice from the holding cells piped up. "Hey, Kasey! You got any pull around here? How ‘bout getting me out?"

Miles glanced back to see Jake still hanging onto the bars, looking hopeful.

"Not a chance," Miles said with a grin as he strolled out, leaving Jake groaning dramatically behind him. Whatever it took, he was going to find Kevin. Because no one deserved to be forgotten—not if he could help it.

---

The neon glow of Fremont Street flickered against Miles' face as he walked through the bustling crowds. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fried food, spilled beer, and cigarette smoke, a true representation of the city that never really slept. Tourists gawked at the street performers, gamblers shuffled between casinos, and the homeless nestled themselves into quiet corners, ignored by most.

Miles wasn’t here to be entertained. He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes scanning the sidewalks, peering into alleys, looking for any sign of Kevin. He knew it was a long shot, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the kid was still around, still surviving on these streets.

He muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Where are you, kid?" He exhaled, watching the way his breath barely formed in the warm night air. His gut told him Kevin was still in Vegas—he just had to figure out where.

As he walked past a row of shuttered storefronts, he spotted a group of teenagers huddled together near a flickering streetlamp, their eyes darting around like they expected trouble. Miles considered approaching, but before he could, they scattered like startled birds. He sighed. "Damn it."

As Miles continued walking, his mind drifted again to Climax Control. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and exhaled slowly. "Strange Bedfellows," he muttered, shaking his head. "Fitting name for a team that don’t know a damn thing about each other."

Teaming with Jayden Harris wasn’t a problem, at least not for Miles. The kid had talent, raw and hungry, but his last name put a target on his back before he even stepped foot in a ring. Miles understood that struggle better than most. "Pressure like that? It can either break you or make you sharper," he said to himself. "Kid’s got the tools, but does he know how to use ‘em when the lights are bright?"

That was the question. And there was only one way to find out.

"Then there’s Vinnie," Miles said with a slight chuckle, shaking his head. "I swear, you never know what version of that dude you’re gonna get. One match, he’s throwing hands like a world-beater, the next, he’s too busy having a full-on conversation with a damn cactus to focus." He smirked to himself. "But I’m not stupid enough to write him off. A guy like him? He’s dangerous when you least expect it. Can’t let my guard down. Not for a second."

His expression darkened slightly as his thoughts shifted to Eddie Lyons. That was a different beast altogether.

"Eddie’s a whole different level," he admitted, rolling his shoulders as he walked. "I respect the hell out of that man. No nonsense, no games—just a guy who comes to fight, and he does it better than most." Miles stopped for a moment, staring at the flashing neon lights of a casino sign. "I know what I’m up against with him. And I know he ain’t gonna take it easy just because we got mutual respect."

He continued moving, stepping past a couple arguing near the entrance of a liquor store. "Respect only gets you so far, though. When that bell rings, I gotta be better. Faster. Smarter. I gotta prove that I’m still the guy people don’t wanna see across the ring from them."

He glanced up at the sky, the stars barely visible against the bright Vegas lights. "Jayden and I? We ain’t the favorites here. We’re the ones people expect to crumble under the pressure. But that’s the thing about expectations." He smirked. "They’re meant to be broken."

Miles kicked a discarded soda can, watching it rattle into the gutter. "This ain’t just a tag match. This is about momentum. This is about sending a message. About showing the rest of the locker room that I’m not just in the Elimination Chamber to make up the numbers. I’m in it to win."

His jaw tightened. "Sunday night, I’m walking into that ring with one goal—win. I don’t care what I gotta do. I don’t care if Jayden and I gotta scratch and claw our way through it. We’re leaving that match with our hands raised."

He let the words settle in his own mind.

"Because second place in a match like this?" He shook his head. "That’s just another name for losing. And I don’t lose."

He kicked a loose bottle cap down the sidewalk, watching it skitter into the gutter. "Gotta stay sharp," he muttered. "Can’t let distractions get me. Not now."

But he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling that this wasn’t just about wrestling anymore. It was about proving to himself that he still had a purpose beyond the ring. That he could still make a difference.

Because the world could be distracting, but distractions could get you hurt. Or worse.

Backstage at Climax Control, Reno

The backstage area was alive with noise, but it all felt muted to Miles. His blood was still boiling, his jaw tight as he stormed down the corridor. Crew members moved out of his way, sensing the fury radiating off him like heat from a roaring fire. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles had turned white, and his chest rose and fell with sharp, heavy breaths.

He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe the gall of Kevin Carter.

Miles replayed the scene over and over in his mind. The smug look on Kevin’s face. The vile words dripping from his mouth as he had the audacity to demean Carter, to call his championship reign “embarrassing.” It was bullshit. Absolute Grade A 100% bullshit.

The worst part? Kevin wasn’t just attacking Carter’s abilities as a wrestler—he was attacking who Carter was. Every jab, every sneer, every word was designed to chip away at the incredible man that Miles had fallen in love with, the man who had fought tooth and nail to prove himself, time and time again.

And then Kevin had taken it further. He had gone after him. Calling him out for his past mistakes, for attacking Finn when desperation had gotten the better of him. Kevin had thrown it in his face like he wasn’t already carrying the weight of that guilt every damn day.

“Goddammit!” Miles growled, punching a wall as he turned a corner. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain up his arm, but it barely registered.

“Miles!”

The sound of Carter’s voice cut through the haze of anger, and Miles stopped dead in his tracks. Carter was standing a few feet away, looking equal parts concerned and annoyed. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face—still healing from the damage Kevin had inflicted—was drawn tight with emotion.

“What the hell were you doing out there?” Carter demanded, his tone sharp but tinged with worry. “I told you not to get involved. I was the one that wanted to handle it.”

Miles turned to face him fully, his expression still heated. “I couldn’t just stand there, Carter. Not after everything he’s done to you. Not after the shit he said tonight. I couldn’t let him—”

“You couldn’t let him what? Run his mouth?” Carter interrupted, stepping closer. “He’s a blowhard, Miles! That’s what he does! You think I haven’t dealt with guys like him before?”

Miles ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bubbling over. “It’s not the same, Carter. He didn’t just run his mouth—he attacked you, not once but TWICE! He broke your goddamn nose. He’s gone out of his way to humiliate you, to tear you down, and for what? To get a shot at the Internet Championship? He’s a coward. And it’s my fault he got to you in the first place.”

Carter blinked, taken aback. “Your fault? How is any of this your fault?”

“Because I wasn’t there to stop him!” Miles shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “I should have been there, Carter. I should have been there to protect you, to make sure that piece of shit couldn’t touch you. But I wasn’t. I was to fucking caught up in my own bullshit and my own selfishness to try and- and...I don’t fucking know, prove something to people who barely give and/or gave a fuck about me. And now you’re standing here still healing from a broken nose because of it. Because of me.”

Carter stared at him, his expression softening as he realized the depth of Miles’ guilt. He took a step closer, reaching out to touch Miles’ arm. “Miles, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. Kevin Carter attacked me because he’s an asshole, and he sees me as an easy target. It’s not and never because of anything you did or didn’t do.”

“But I could have stopped him,” Miles said, his voice quieter now, though no less intense. “I could have been there, Carter. And I wasn’t. I let you down.”

“You didn’t let me down,” Carter said firmly, his hand squeezing Miles’ arm. “You can’t be everywhere all the time, Miles. You can’t protect me from every single thing that comes my way. And I don’t need you to. I’m a grown man. I can handle myself.”

Miles shook his head, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to keep you safe. You’re my husband, Carter. You’re the most important person in the world to me. And when I see someone like Kevin coming after you, trying to hurt you—not just physically, but in every way he can—I can’t just sit back and do nothing. I won’t.”

Carter sighed, his frustration melting into understanding. He knew Miles. He knew the way his mind worked, the way he always took on the weight of the world when it came to the people he loved. It was one of the things that had made Carter fall in love with him in the first place, but it was also something that worried him.

“You’ve got a bit of a hero complex, you know that?” Carter said gently, a small, wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Miles let out a bitter laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. Mostly because Dr. Delacore just had practically the same type of conversation in their last session just before they left for Reno, “Yeah, I know. But I don’t give a shit. I’d rather get my ass kicked ten times over than see you get hurt again.”

Carter stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Miles and pulling him into a tight embrace. “I love you, Miles. But you’ve got to trust me to handle this. Kevin Carter doesn’t scare me. He’s just another guy who thinks he’s better than he is. And come Inception, I’ll put him in his place.”

Miles buried his face in Carter’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around him just as tightly. “I know you will. I just… I can’t help it, love. I can’t stand the thought of him getting away with what he’s done to you.”

“He won’t,” Carter said firmly, pulling back to look Miles in the eye. “Trust me, okay? I’ve got this.”

Miles nodded, though the fire in his chest hadn’t completely cooled. “Alright. But before Inception, I want my shot at him.”

Carter raised a brow, surprised. “What?”

Miles’ voice was resolute, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve already done it. I challenged him to a match at Climax Control—main event. He wants to run his mouth, throw around his bullshit insults, and act like some big, untouchable force? Fine. He can back it up in the ring, against me.”

“Miles—” Carter started, but Miles cut him off.

“No. Don’t try to talk me out of this,” Miles said sharply. “You asked me to stay out of it, and I tried. But I won’t stand back anymore, Carter. You’re my husband. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I won’t let Kevin Carter tear you down while I watch from the sidelines. He hurt you, and I wasn’t there to stop it. That’s on me. But I’ll make damn sure he doesn’t walk into Inception thinking he’s got the upper hand on you.”

Carter sighed, his expression softening despite the frustration simmering in his eyes. “Miles, I don’t need you fighting my battles. I know you mean well, but Kevin wants this. He wants to bait you into playing his game. And when you give him what he wants, he’ll twist it into something else. He’ll find another way to push us. He’s not worth it.”

“I know what he’s doing,” Miles said, his jaw tightening. “And I don’t care. He attacked you when he knew I wasn’t around, broke your damn nose like a coward, and now he’s running his mouth like he’s untouchable. Someone has to shut him up before Inception, and it might as well be me.”

Carter hesitated, seeing the determination in Miles’ eyes. He knew better than to try and talk him out of it now. Miles was stubborn—always had been—and when it came to protecting the people he loved, there was no stopping him. Finally, Carter nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Fine,” he relented. “But you better be careful out there. Kevin’s not above pulling some shady shit...we all saw what he did to Mark. And the last thing I need is both of us limping into Inception.”

Miles smirked faintly, the first flicker of humor breaking through his stormy expression. “You forget who you’re talking to. If he tries anything, I’ll make sure he regrets it.”

Carter shook his head, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Miles replied with a shrug. “But you love me anyway.”

Carter smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Miles’ lips. “That I do. Now come on. Let’s get out of here before you punch another wall.”

Miles chuckled, the sound low and tired but genuine. “Deal.”

As they walked down the corridor together, Miles glanced over at Carter, his resolve hardening. Kevin Carter might have started this fight, but Miles would be damned if he let him walk into Inception unscathed. This wasn’t just about payback; it was about standing up for the man he loved—and Miles wasn’t going to let anyone, least of all Kevin Carter, forget it.


Freemont Street – Las Vegas

The dazzling lights of Freemont Street painted a vivid, electric glow on the bustling crowds below. The air was alive with laughter, music from street performers, and the occasional clinking of coins from tourists trying their luck at slot machines. Miles had his arm draped casually around Carter’s shoulders, both of them immersed in the chaos of the scene but entirely at ease in each other’s company.

“It’s so tacky, but I kind of love it,” Carter admitted with a grin, glancing at a performer juggling fire while dancing to a drumbeat.

“Tacky is part of the charm,” Miles replied, leaning in closer to him. “Besides, where else can you see someone trying to breakdance in a Chewbacca costume?”

Carter chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “I’ll give you that.”

They were just about to stop by one of the food trucks when a sudden commotion behind them made them turn. A group of kids, no older than teenagers, came tearing through the crowd, their faces etched with panic. Behind them, a mix of Las Vegas PD officers and security guards yelled commands to stop.

Before either of them could react, one of the kids—maybe 16 or 17, with a wiry frame and wide, frightened eyes—slammed directly into Miles. The impact sent the kid sprawling to the ground and knocked Miles down to one knee.

“Hey, watch it!” Miles barked, startled as he steadied himself. He glanced down at the kid, his sharp tone softening when he locked eyes with him.

The boy’s eyes—brown, but tinged with something familiar—stared back at Miles for a split second, wide with recognition, before the kid scrambled to his feet and bolted again into the crowd, disappearing before Miles could say another word.

Carter was at Miles’ side immediately, helping him up. “You okay? That looked like it hurt.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Miles said distractedly, dusting himself off. “Just caught me off guard.”

Carter studied him with concern. “You sure? You’re not limping or anything?”

“I said I’m fine,” Miles assured him, but then he started patting his pockets. A frown crossed his face as he checked them all over again. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Carter asked, confused.

“My wallet,” Miles muttered, shaking his head. “That little shit swiped my wallet.”

Carter groaned. “Great. Do you want to call and cancel your cards or—?”

“Not yet,” Miles interrupted, already scanning the crowd. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Carter grabbed his arm, concern etched across his face. “Miles, don’t—”

“I’ll be fine,” Miles cut him off, his voice calm but firm. “Just go. I’ll meet you at the pizza place.”

Carter hesitated, clearly reluctant, but eventually nodded. “Alright. But don’t do anything stupid.”

Miles gave him a small smile. “When do I ever?”

Carter snorted. “Do you want the list alphabetized or chronological?”

With a quick peck on the cheek, Carter disappeared into the crowd, leaving Miles to weave his way in the opposite direction, determined to find the kid.

A Secluded Alleyway – Off Freemont Street

The kid’s lungs burned as he ducked into a narrow alley, clutching the stolen wallet tightly in his hands. His heart pounded in his chest as he glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one had followed him. The flashing lights of Freemont Street seemed far away now, the noise of the crowd fading into the distance.

He leaned against a wall, trying to catch his breath. Opening the wallet, he quickly flipped through it, pulling out a few bills and barely glancing at the ID.

“Pretty nice haul,” he muttered to himself, shoving the cash into his pocket.

“You done?”

The voice startled him, making him whirl around. Standing at the other end of the alley, arms crossed and leaning casually against the wall, was Miles.

The kid’s eyes widened in shock. “How the hell—”

“Old habits die hard,” Miles said, pushing off the wall and taking a few slow steps toward him. “You think you’re the first little punk to try and outrun me on the streets?”

The kid backed up instinctively, his grip on the wallet tightening. “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble.”

“Too late for that,” Miles said, his tone calm but firm. “Now, how about you give that back before we both have to waste any more time?”

The boy hesitated, his eyes darting to the exit behind Miles.

“I wouldn’t,” Miles warned, as if reading his thoughts. “You’re fast, but I’m faster. Trust me, kid, you’re not getting past me.”

“Stop calling me ‘kid,’” the boy snapped, throwing the wallet back at Miles with enough force that it bounced off his chest. “There. Happy now?”

Miles caught the wallet mid-fall and tucked it into his pocket, but his eyes never left the boy. “Not really. You’ve got a hell of a chip on your shoulder.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a tough world,” the boy shot back, his voice bitter. “I’m just doing what I need to do to survive. You wouldn’t get it.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “You think I don’t get it? You’re not the only one who had to scrape by on the streets.”

The boy scoffed, shaking his head. “Whatever. I don’t care who you are. And I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anyone.”

Miles took a step closer, his voice softening. “That so? Well, I guess that’s why you’re out here alone, stealing wallets from people who would’ve helped you if you just asked.”

The boy didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he avoided Miles’ gaze.

For a moment, Miles just stood there, studying him. And then, as recognition dawned on him, his expression softened.

“Kevin,” he said quietly.

The boy froze, his eyes snapping to Miles in shock.

“Yeah,” Miles said, nodding as if confirming it to himself. “I remember you. Karen’s kid, right?”

Kevin’s face twisted into a mixture of anger and pain. “Don’t talk about her. You don’t know anything.”

“You’re right,” Miles said, his voice steady. “But I do know what it’s like to feel like the whole world’s against you. And I know what it’s like to push people away because you think you don’t have a choice.”

Kevin’s glare faltered for a moment, but he quickly shook it off. “Whatever. This is a waste of time.”

Miles didn’t stop him as he turned to leave. Instead, he pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and set it down on a nearby box.

“You know where to find me and Carter,” Miles said simply. “Whenever you’re ready to stop running.”

Kevin paused, glancing over his shoulder at the bill and then at Miles. For a moment, he looked like he might say something, but then he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Miles sighed, running a hand through his hair. He stared at the empty alleyway for a long moment before heading back toward Freemont Street.


It’s a Simple Complex...Really.

The scene opens on an empty gym late at night. A single overhead light casts shadows across the empty ring, illuminating Miles Kasey as he pummels a heavy punching bag with precision strikes. Each punch lands with thunderous force, reverberating through the room. His breaths are sharp, controlled, but you can see the fire burning behind his ice-blue eyes.

Miles stops suddenly, leaning his forearm against the bag. Sweat drips from his forehead, and his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. He looks up into the camera that's perched on a tripod a few feet away, waiting for him to speak. And when he does, his voice is calm… but it carries the weight of a storm.

"You know, Kevin Carter… I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Ever since the first time you decided to open that gaping maw of yours and let out the diarrhea you call words, I knew it was only a matter of time before we ended up here.

You talk big, don’t you, Kev? You puff out your chest, throw around your little insults, and think you’re untouchable. But here’s the thing about people like you: when you strip away all the bravado, all the fake tough-guy crap, all that’s left is a scared little boy desperately clinging to relevance. And that’s what you are, isn’t it, Kevin? Just another loudmouth, insecure jackass trying to convince the world that you’re bigger than you are."

Miles steps back from the bag, running a hand through his damp hair before stepping into the ring. He leans on the ropes, staring directly into the camera.

"You know what pisses me off the most about you, Kevin? It’s not the constant trash talk. It’s not even the fact that you’re a walking, talking advertisement for mediocrity. No, what pisses me off the most is that you had the audacity to question me. To accuse me—me—of being willing to hurt my own family, my own husband, for a shot at the SCW Internet Championship.

Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I’ve never wanted that title. Never. I had my time with it and that time has passed. My goals are much higher than that. I don’t care about shiny objects to prop up my ego. I don’t need a championship to validate my place in this company. Because when I step into that ring, I don’t just win matches—I make statements. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Kevin? Because you’re too busy clinging to a belt you barely deserve, trying to convince yourself that it makes you worth something."

Miles steps into the center of the ring, his fists clenched at his sides. His voice grows colder, more venomous.

"And let’s talk about how you’ve treated Carter, huh? You’ve gone out of your way to paint him as some kind of victim, like I would ever lay a hand on him in anything other than love and support. I’m not surprised that you took that road to try and get under my skin about how you would even THINK that I would ever hurt him to get to glory. And yeah, he asked me to let him take care of it and like a moron I jumped both feet in, when you went out in Reno last week. But I have a newsflash, Kev: Carter doesn’t need protecting. Least of all from you.

See, the difference between you and me is that I don’t need to tear people down to feel good about myself. I know it appears certain ways at times but I don’t need to play the hero, the villain, or whatever other role you’re trying to shove yourself into this week. I know who I am. I’ve faced my demons, and I’ve come out stronger. Can you say the same, Kevin? Or are you still hiding behind that flimsy mask, hoping no one sees the cracks underneath?"

Miles paces the ring now, his movements sharp and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey.

"You’re a leech, Kevin. A parasite. You latch onto people, onto opportunities, and you suck the life out of them until there’s nothing left. And then you move on to the next host. That’s what you tried to do with Carter, isn’t it? You thought you could manipulate him, use him as a pawn in whatever pathetic little game you’re playing. But you underestimated him. You underestimated us. And that’s where you made your biggest mistake."

Miles stops in the center of the ring, his eyes locked on the camera. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone.

"You see, Kevin, this match isn’t about titles. It’s not about rankings or wins and losses. This is personal. You made it personal the moment you decided to drag my name through the mud, the moment you questioned my loyalty, my love for Carter. You opened Pandora’s box, Kev, and now you’re going to deal with the consequences.

Come Climax Control, there won’t be any fancy words to hide behind. No excuses. No running. It’ll just be you and me, one-on-one. And when that bell rings, I’m going to show you exactly why you should have kept my name out of your mouth. And I’ll leave just enough of you for Carter for Inception when the Kasey-McKinney’s put your smart mouth in its place once and for all.

You wanted my attention, Kevin? Well, congratulations. You’ve got it. But I promise you, by the time I’m done, you’re going to wish you hadn’t."

Miles picks up the punching bag from earlier, slings it over his shoulder, and throws it over the top rope with a single, powerful motion. The sound of it hitting the floor echoes through the empty gym as Miles walks toward the camera, stopping just inches away.

"Enjoy these last few days while you can, Kevin. Because at Climax Control, your little reign of mediocrity comes to an end. And me? I’ll be the one holding the shovel."

Miles smirks coldly before stepping out of frame, leaving the camera focused on the empty ring as the scene fades to black.

Rebuild All That You’ve Broken
Following Violent Conduct
London, UK

The air was sharp and cold, carrying a dampness that clung to the concrete outside the O2 Arena. London had a way of making the night feel heavier, like it could swallow a man whole if he let it. Miles Kasey leaned against the brick wall of the loading dock, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath. He wasn’t in his ring gear anymore. The dark jeans and black leather jacket he wore gave him the look of someone ready to vanish into the shadows—or perhaps step out of them for good.

The adrenaline from the moment still coursed through his veins, but it wasn’t the kind that left him jittery or unfocused. No, this was something different. Something purer. He could still feel the weight of the SCW World Championship belt in his hands, the one that he held and handed Finn after he went through hell to defeat Kris Ryan. He could still feel the heat from the London crowd roaring as Finn Whelan celebrated yet another triumph. He could still hear the hollow crack of his forearm smashing into Finn’s skull, the Double Edge Sword delivered with surgical precision.

It was as if the arena had stopped breathing in that instant.

He had seen Finn crumble to the mat like a toppled king, the SCW World Championship slipping from his grasp. Miles had to will himself to even look back at the carnage he left behind as he exited the ring. That wasn’t his style. He didn’t gloat or grandstand. He didn’t need to. But the look on Finn’s face made it worth it.

The statement had already been made.

They were in his home, and this time he was going to set those rules that they all love to live by.

The door to the loading dock creaked open behind him, spilling faint yellow light onto the alley. A production assistant hesitated in the doorway, his wide eyes betraying the nervousness etched on his face. He carried Miles’ carry-on bag, holding it out as if it might explode.

“Here,” the assistant stammered. “They... uh, Carter told me to make sure to give this to you. He said he’d be right out.”

Miles glanced over his shoulder, his piercing blue eyes locking onto the assistant’s face. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice low and deliberate. He took the bag with one hand and slung it over his shoulder.

“Are you... okay?” the assistant asked, his tone cautious, like he wasn’t sure if he should be asking at all.

Miles let the silence hang between them for a moment, then smirked. “Never better. Do me a favour, mate? Let my husband know to text me when the ride gets here, something tells me it’s not safe to just stick around here.”

Without another word, Miles turned and walked down the alley, the sounds of the city buzzing faintly in the distance. His boots clicked against the pavement with each step, steady and unrelenting.

Every Wound Will Shape Me

The streets of London were quieter than usual, though Miles wasn’t entirely sure if that was true or if it just felt that way. The further he walked from the O2, the less the echoes of the crowd filled his ears. He imagined the chaos that would be erupting backstage now. The confusion, the anger, the shouting. Finn Whelan’s fury. The fallout would be tremendous, of that he was sure.

The city lights cast long shadows across the pavement, and for the first time in a long time, Miles felt untouchable. Every step he took away from the arena felt like another piece of his own puzzle snapping into place. There was a time when he’d doubted himself, doubted his ability to stand on his own two feet, doubted his worth beyond being another cog in the Wolfslair machine.

That time was over.

And it wasn’t like he had exactly had this plan in place for a long time, in fact he had made up his mind when he was out there with that front row seat to that match that no matter who got that win, he was going to claim that spot. It was absolutely nothing personal. Not Finn, not Kris. But this was something that needed to be done. And done it he had.

As he turned a corner, Miles reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. A single message from Carter lit up the screen.

“I’m at the car. People are losing their minds back here. Please tell me you’re ready to go.”

Miles’ lips curled into a small smile as he typed a quick response.

“On my way. Don’t worry, love. Everything’s going exactly as it should.”

He hit send and shoved the phone back into his pocket. His mind drifted back to the match, to the moment he struck Finn down. It wasn’t just about the betrayal, though he knew that was what the world would see. Like it was known, if it was Kris Ryans, the same damn thing would have happened. But to him, it was liberation. Finn Whelan had been untouchable for far too long, holding onto the SCW World Championship like a self-righteous king clutching his crown. Miles didn’t see it as betrayal. He saw it as revolution.

Finn had always demanded the best from him. He wanted Miles to step up, to stop holding back. Well, now he had. And it wasn’t just for Finn—it was for the entire SCW roster.

The cab Carter had ordered sat parked at the edge of the block, headlights glowing faintly. Through the windshield, Miles could see Carter in the backseat, his face illuminated by the blue light of his phone screen. As he approached the car, Carter looked up, his expression a mix of relief and exasperation.

The driver popped the trunk as Miles tossed his bag in, sliding into the backseat beside Carter.

“You really went and did it, didn’t you?” Carter asked, his voice low.

Miles smirked, leaning back against the seat. “Did you expect anything less?”

Carter sighed, rubbing his temples. “No, I suppose not. But you know what you’ve done, right? This isn’t going to end with just Finn.”

“I am aware, love,” Miles replied, his tone steady. “But it had to be done.”

Carter looked at him for a moment, studying his face. “Are you sure about that?”

Miles turned his gaze to the window, watching the city lights blur as the cab pulled away from the curb. “Not like I can go back and change it now, even if I wanted to. But to answer your question, absolutely.”

Later That Night

The hotel room was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the heater kicking on. Miles sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring down at his hands. His knuckles were still red from the night’s events.

He could hear Carter moving around in the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing faintly. Miles tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. The adrenaline had finally started to fade, replaced by a different kind of energy. One that burned low and steady, like a fire that refused to die.

Every word you left unspoken. Rebuild all that you’ve broken.

The lyrics from Throne echoed in his mind, the song playing on repeat somewhere deep in his thoughts. He didn’t need music to hear it—it was etched into his very being now. Every wound, every scar, every moment that had led him here. They had all built this.

His throne.

Carter stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his neck, and gave Miles a long look. “You’re quiet.”

Miles opened his eyes and smiled faintly. “Just thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” Carter teased, crossing the room to sit beside him.

Miles chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean it, though. Everything’s gonna completely change after tonight.”

“It already has,” Carter said softly. He reached out, placing a hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Just promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t lose yourself in all of this.”

Miles turned to look at him, his expression serious. “Carter, this is the first time in my life, career wise at least, I’ve felt like I’ve found myself. There is gonna be a lot of people that are going to tell you that I would do the same thing to you, but I would never...”

Carter searched his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I know that, babe. Just don’t forget who’s got your back, no matter what happens.”

Miles smiled, leaning in to kiss him gently. “I could never forget that.”

The moment passed, and Carter stood, heading toward the bed. Miles stayed where he was, staring out the window at the city beyond.

Tomorrow, the fallout would begin. Finn, Wolfslair, the SCW brass, whoever else had 2 cents to rub together to throw in their opinion—they would all have their say. He knows a few would come for him, one by one.

But they didn’t understand.

Miles wasn’t afraid of them. He was one of them.

The foundation had been laid, the first shot fired. Miles Kasey was no longer content to play by the rules others had written. High Stakes XIV was on the horizon, and the throne he was building would be forged in the fires of chaos.

And when the dust settled, they would all see the truth: every wound, every scar, every battle—they had only made him stronger.

Miles Kasey wasn’t stepping up.

He was taking over.


I’m Harder On Myself Than ANYONE

The dim light of the gym flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows across the space. Miles Kasey had spent countless nights here, hammering away at his weaknesses and fortifying his resolve. His world had become a singular focus: High Stakes XIV.

The fight against Finn Whelan wasn’t just another match. It wasn’t even just personal. It was everything.

Remember the moment you left me alone and broke every promise you ever made…

Miles’ hands tightened around the bar as he lifted, the weight a physical manifestation of the burden he’d carried for months. Finn had opened his home to him, welcomed him back into Wolfslair, only to turn his back when Miles needed him most. Or maybe Finn would say Miles had done the same.

The lines between betrayal and self-preservation had blurred, leaving nothing but raw, unrelenting anger in its wake.

Pain is the only thing I feel; it’s bringing me down…

He could hear Finn’s voice in his head, laced with the venom of every argument they’d had. Every moment of distrust, every glance that said Miles didn’t belong. It had cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

The Fracture

When Miles had stood at ringside as Finn and Kayla lost the SCW Mixed Tag Titles, DESPITE popular opinion, he hadn’t come to interfere. He wasn’t there to sabotage anything. But his mere presence had been enough to fracture the fragile alliance between him and Finn. But apparently Finn felt slighted juuuuust enough to punch Miles in the mouth.

Which even Miles admitted...it was justified.

And Miles had seen it in Finn’s eyes: the fury, the resentment, the disbelief.

Finn had even in his own way, demanded a confrontation, demanded they talk. But when Miles had finally attempted to approached him, it wasn’t on Finn’s terms, and that only made things worse. Finn had ducked, dodged, and deflected—actions Miles saw as weakness.

Fine. If Finn wanted to see him as the villain, Miles would give him the fight he wanted. He always had to be the villain in someone’s story.

But the bitterness didn’t stop there. Alex Jones, the man who had once been his mentor, had driven the knife deeper just a few weeks later when Miles was going out to simply just cheer Carter during his match against Finn. Instead of staying out of it, Alex delivered a brutal kick to Miles’ face, sending a message that Wolfslair was no longer his home.

Every scar will build my throne…

The pain was real, but so was the determination that rose from it. Miles had spent too long being the loyal soldier, the afterthought, the one everyone overlooked.

Not anymore.

And the whispers.....The fucking whispers and reminders followed him everywhere.

“Finn opened his door to you.”
“Finn welcomed you back into Wolfslair.”
“Finn made you.”

It was as if none of them could see that Miles had outgrown being Finn’s protégé, outgrown being a shadow of anyone.

So you can throw me to the wolves; tomorrow I will come back, leader of the whole pack.

Every word, every doubt, every betrayal fueled the fire burning inside him. The hours in the gym weren’t just about preparation—they were about transformation.

Miles was no longer the broken man who had needed saving.

He was something more.

The Conflict Within

But even as the fire burned, there was guilt simmering beneath the surface. Miles couldn’t deny the truth: Finn had been there when he needed someone. Finn had offered him a home, a place to belong when everything else had fallen apart.

And there were moments—fleeting, but there—where Miles wondered if he was the one in the wrong.

I was an ocean, lost in the open, nothing could take the pain away…

He carried that guilt like a scar, a constant reminder of what he had left behind. But guilt wasn’t enough to stop him.

Because this wasn’t about Finn anymore. This wasn’t about Alex, or Wolfslair, or, as much as he loved him, it wasn’t even about Carter.

This was about Miles Kasey.

The week before High Stakes XIV, Miles sat alone in his living room, the Vegas skyline stretching out before him. The weight of what lay ahead pressed down on him, but for the first time in months, he didn’t feel crushed by it.

The scars were his strength now. Every betrayal, every doubt, every failure had brought him to this moment. The hidden secret he had that kept him from the ring for over a month and a half, that kept him from being a part of the show in his own home country for in-ring action. Finn Whelan wanted to know what it took for Miles to finally step the fucking up and live to the potential that Finn desperately wanted for him?

....those scars would indeed build his throne.

Sunday, he would step into the ring and face Finn Whelan—the man who had been a brother to him, and the man who now stood in his way.

Miles wasn’t afraid of what came next.

He embraced it.

Sure it was going to look like hell.

Because the man walking into that ring wasn’t the same Miles Kasey who had needed saving.

He was the man who would build his own throne.


The Anchor

But even the strongest of warriors needed an anchor, and for Miles’ was Carter.

The gym was his battlefield, and lately, every session felt like a war he couldn’t afford to lose. The weights, the sweat, the exhaustion—all of it was a means to an end, a way to prepare for High Stakes XIV. Kristjan had him in there every day and he was thankful to the man that was quite literally his best man at his wedding.

Fenris was at his doorstep every morning. Not just for the run, but the gym, the working out in the ring. K was there to work on the submissions, the strikes...the man was so well rounded, he was the best and the worst but what Kristjan said to him in one of their sessions kept him going, “You started this fire, Milo. You want them to take you seriously, then you need to show your whole ass against a prick like Finn.”

That would easily turn into Miles joking that he’s usually not that kind of guy and he and K going another 30 minutes of match prep with Miles cursing the whole way.

The fight with Finn was more than personal—it was a statement. It was about everything that had led him here, everything that had torn him apart and built him back up.

That night, after a brutal training session that had left him aching in places he didn’t even know existed, Miles walked through the door of their shared home in Las Vegas. Every step was heavy, each muscle screaming in protest, but his mind refused to let him stop.

He had to keep going.

But Carter was there waiting for him.

The concern in his husband’s eyes was unmistakable, and it pulled Miles up short. For a moment, he hesitated in the doorway, suddenly aware of the toll the past few weeks had taken on him—physically, emotionally, mentally.

“You’re going to burn yourself out,” Carter said softly, his voice laced with worry. He didn’t move; he didn’t need to. The way he stood, calm but firm, told Miles everything he needed to know. Carter was there—he always was, even when Miles didn’t deserve it.

“I can’t stop,” Miles whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of exhaustion. The words came out rough, strained. “If I stop… if I let up, even for a second…”

Carter’s expression softened, but there was a fierceness in his eyes now—something protective, something steady. He reached out, pulling Miles into his arms and letting the silence between them settle. Carter just slowly helped him to the couch and made sure he sat down. He attempted the gentle but with how heavy Miles felt he sort of just flopped down and groaned. Carter moved quickly to sit down next to him and turned to look at his husband. He never seen Miles this committed even when he was deep in a feud with Austin James Mercer. This was something new.

“You’ll be fine,” Carter interrupted, his hands cupping Miles’ face, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You’re already more than enough, Miles. You don’t have to prove that to anyone—not to Finn, not to Alex, not to anyone.”

For a moment, just a moment, Miles let himself believe it. Let himself feel the warmth of Carter’s touch and the safety of his words. He closed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion roll off him in waves. Maybe Carter was right. Maybe he didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

Miles just laid down on his husband’s lap and just closed his eyes. But as the quiet settled between them, that familiar, gnawing voice inside him broke through again. The voice that refused to let him rest, refused to let him stop.

"Help me believe it's not the real me… Somebody help me tame this animal..."

The words—lyrics from another song that had haunted him for weeks—flooded his mind. The animal. The part of him that had been forged in pain, in conflict, in rage. He wasn’t sure who he was without it anymore. The anger, the hurt, the desire to be more than just the man who had been left behind—it was all so deeply embedded in him now. It felt like he couldn’t escape it, even if he wanted to.

But Carter was here, grounding him, offering him the calm he desperately needed but didn’t know how to accept.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Carter murmured, his voice a whisper in the darkness of their living room. Miles looked up and even in the shadow he looked at Carter with a wonder. “I’m here, Miles. I’m here with you—every step of the way.”

The words lingered in the air, the weight of them settling deep in Miles’ chest. All the words that certain people had been saying to Carter after everything, he didn’t believe them. He still trusted Miles fully. But even as he closed his eyes again, feeling the steadiness of Carter’s embrace, something inside him shifted.

“You wanna hear something funny?” Miles said, breaking the silence. Carter looked down at him as Miles gave him a bright smile, “Fenris taught me two things. One, I never met somebody who could sweat so much so easily during a sparring match! And two, something about...I don’t know, I’m exhausted...he tends to talk a lot sometimes. I don’t mean to tune him out but the man knows how to work a match."

That caused Carter to laugh out loud, “Nice to know you are taking it all in. But at least you have that big idiot and his thousand pack abs too.”

He had always believed he had to fight this battle on his own. That he had to prove something to Finn, to Alex, to everyone who doubted him. But now, with Carter holding him, the idea that he didn’t have to face it alone felt like a lifeline.

Miles had never been one to lean on anyone, but in that moment, he realized it wasn’t a weakness to let someone else carry a part of the burden. It wasn’t a failure to trust someone with the pieces of him that had been broken, that had been twisted in the fires of ambition and pain.

Carter was his anchor.

The one person who kept him tethered to something real. The one person who reminded him that he didn’t have to prove anything anymore.

The next day, Miles returned to the gym with a renewed sense of purpose. The wolf was alive and well inside him, was still there, still raging, but for the first time, he wasn’t trying to fight it alone. He was the one at Kristjan’s door bright and early for his daily asswhoopin’.

Despite those across the country being pissed off at him, he didn’t have to look far for that support system.


Beat me black and blue
Every wound will shape me
Every scar will build my throne

The air is thin and crisp in the Santa Catalina Mountains, the sun sinking below the horizon, casting deep shadows over the rugged mountainside. Miles stands alone at the edge of a cliff, staring out at the vast, rocky expanse. His breaths are steady, but his mind is a storm. The Tucson skyline flickers far below, and the only sound is the occasional rustling of wind through the dry desert brush. The place is silent, but Miles' thoughts roar inside his head.

He’s come here for a reason—he needs to confront his own demons before he steps into the ring with Finn at High Stakes. There’s so much at stake here. His career. His future. His destiny. He can't afford to let doubt linger.

He takes a deep breath, looks at the setting sun, and begins to speak, as if he’s addressing Finn directly—even though no one else is around. It’s a monologue for the ages, a man finally at peace with his own ambition, knowing that he must cut through the noise and claim what’s his.

Miles stood there with a sneer, full of contempt in his voice, "You wanted me to step up, Finn. You begged for it. You sat there, a multi-time champion, talking down to me like you were some kind of god in this company. You said, ‘Bring your best,’ like you were testing me. Like you needed me to prove myself to you.

And now that I’ve finally taken the bait, you’re sitting there like some little boy who made a mistake. You wanted me to come for you? You asked for this. And now you’re whining about it? Crying about the fact that you got exactly what you asked for?”

A pause for dramatic effect, of course, and he could taste the bitterness dripping from his tongue, “This was never personal for me. It was business, Finn. It was always about proving something. About showing everyone that I belong. You thought you could keep me in the shadows of your glory, that I’d always be the second-rate kid. But here's the thing you don't understand—I'm not afraid to get dirty. I never have been. And when I finally found my voice, when I finally stepped up, you couldn’t handle it.

You thought you knew what I was capable of, but you had no idea. You didn’t just wake up a monster, Finn. You became one, by beating down every single person in your path. You played the game. You played it well. But here’s the difference between us—you’re a relic, a washed-up Caesar, holding onto power by any means necessary.

And I’m the one who’s going to take it all from you.”

Miles just scoffs, and begins to frantically pacing, his tone turning colder,

“You wanted to see what I was made of? You’ve seen it now. I’m not some underdog looking for a handout. I’m not some hopeful rookie scrambling for scraps. I’m the future. I’m the SCW World Champion waiting to happen. The title’s always been mine, Finn. And I’m done waiting for you to fall down on your own simply because you were waiting for me to go ‘Pretty please.’ like some sort’ve good little boy. I’m not here to be your sidekick. I’m not here to be your backup plan.

You wanted me to play by your rules, but that’s not how this works. I’ve pissed you off because I am the one that called the shot and it was right at your head. I’ve been holding back for months, watching as you ran your mouth, listening to your little sob stories about how the world owes you something. Newsflash, Finn: nobody owes you anything. You’ve been living off the past for far too long.”

Miles' voice only grows more intense with every moment, his voice almost echoing through the range, “I’m not going to let you continue to drag SCW down with your broken promises and your lack of vision. You had your time—now it’s mine. You used to be the face of this company, the one who carried it on his back. But you’ve turned into a tyrant, a shell of the man you used to be. And I love you, Finn, I do. I respect what you’ve done for this business. But you’re holding the rest of us back. You’ve become the very thing you used to hate. You’re the Caesar—comfortable, complacent, thinking your power’s untouchable.

But just like Caesar, you’re about to find out that it’s all over. I am the one who’s going to take that power. Not because I hate you, but because I love this company more than you ever will. This was never about you and me. It was about SCW. It was about bringing the future to the present. And the future is me, Finn.

So yeah, you can keep crying about how I went too far. You can keep telling yourself you were just trying to protect your precious title, your legacy. But in the end, I’m the one who’ll walk out of High Stakes as the SCW World Champion, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

His voice sharpens with finality, “What’s crazy is I’ve already won, Finn. I won the minute I stepped up and said that I will no longer be your personal punching bag. I don’t care that Alex drew the line in the sand, I really don’t care that Kayla hates me a little bit more, because lets face it, if you’re not a skinny emo prick, she doesn’t give a fuck about you anyways, and she’s really not my type. This is my personal pledge and a standing to you and for everyone that came before me. When I finish you off, and probably throw you back on the shelf for a little while like you tend to do, the world will know that I am the one who was always meant to sit at the top. You really should’ve never asked me to step up, mate. You really should’ve known better. And now, you’re gonna pay the price. Hell, we probably both are going to lose a little bit of ourselves in this. We’re probably going to bleed and well we all know I have no problem with that. Because when the dust settles, when it’s all settled in the wounds and festering there to be infected even further into our souls, there will only room for one of us at the top. And I am taking what’s mine. I’m taking my throne."

Miles, with a fierce determination and grit, takes one last look at the view below and then walks away, his footsteps echoing in the desert silence. The final words hang in the air like a promise that only one of them will walk out victorious at High Stakes.

Those Closest to Paradise As One Can Get
French Polynesia

It’s hard to put into words the excitement that the newlyweds felt the minute they landed and stepped foot onto the ground at the Faa’a International Airport. But Miles and Carter couldn’t wait to find out, as soon as the Princess took dock and they could escape from the masses aboard.

Not that Summer Xxxtreme wasn’t its usual blast and very successful for at least one of them, but after work was done, they were ready for what would be the last stop on their honeymoon following getting married back in late July before they had to board. The week leading up was a working honeymoon but now it was time for play. It was the port straight to LAX and a non-stop flight from there to Tahiti.

Miles couldn’t help it, he smiled the whole flight. Carter kept watching the expansive scenery of blue water the whole way as if he was willing for the plane to go faster.

But that first step into Tahiti had dropped both of their jaws when they just looked around.

“The pictures we saw online did not do this justice.” he heard Carter say as he pulled his phone out and immediately began taking all kinds of pictures, “I can’t believe we’re going to spend the better part of the next two weeks here.”

“And this is just the beginning, my love.” Miles smiled, as he finished loading all the luggage onto a cart. He turns around to see Carter just snapping more and more, “You keep that up and you’re gonna run out of space before we even get to our first room.”

“I don’t want to miss anything though. I want to commit it all to memory.” Carter pouts.

Miles just shakes his head and laughs, “Well then you need to put away your phone, but before you do, spin that picture around.”

Carter looks back at Miles who is standing behind him glancing at the shots he has taken so far, “Why?”

“Trust me, will ya? We are married now after all.”

Carter pulled the camera back up and spun it facing forward and just as Carter went to snap the picture of the two of them with the scenery in the background, Miles turned his head ever so slightly and laid a kiss on Carter’s cheek and the picture that followed was one for the memory books.

Some would think that honeymoons are meant to be spent cooped up in a room and nothing else. Some of those people are idiotic. French Polynesia should be on everyone’s bucket list and the list that both of them created kept them plenty busy. From sight-seeing to just a relaxing day, they made sure not to waste one moment.

And yes plenty of pictures were taken with the reminder that sometimes seeing it with the naked eye made the best memories, and what made it even better, they promised each other to not stay yoked to their phones and spend their time together.

It was a dreary day at one point, so there would be no beach visit on that day with the storms off in the distance. By this point in their travels they had reached Bora Bora and made themselves comfortable in a villa over the water. By that point the word had gotten out about the first card back from the break and Ally had messaged him just to check in, he didn’t really wanna bring work into what was supposed to be a vacation but alas, work came to him.

Thankfully they brought the laptop and Miles decided to take just a few moments to catch up things, and call her via video message.

After a few dulcet tones of a video call, she finally picked up, “Miles! This is a surprise.”

Miles waved, he knew...he just didn’t wanna really bring that out in the open just yet, but her hair was a dead giveaway and he also knew his brother hadn’t been back to Vegas since after the cruise, “Hey, Ally. Hope I’m not disturbing anything.”

“No! Not at all, just getting ready for bed here. How’s the honeymoon?”

“It’s absolutely fantastic. This whole damn place needs to be on everyone’s list to visit and I’m already trying to figure out when we can come back here.” he smirked, “Hell I’ve even got a tan.”

Ally laughed, “Carter too, I’m sure. Where is your hubs?”

“Shower at the moment, we’re going to try and run between the raindrops for dinner here soon.” Miles shook his head, he was going to have to rip this band-aid sooner rather than later, “I wanted to give you a call and make sure that you are doing alright after everything following what happened on the cruise. And I do mean, everything.”

“Miles, you are sweet.”

“And worried. I know we have both had a rough go as of late but I want this next cycle for you and I to be different and we have been handed an amazing opportunity here, something that we have tripped up about a few different times.”

“And I get that, it’s been mostly my fault.”

From Miles lips we hear a big sound of what you would hear on a game show if you got a wrong answer, “Try again, Ms. Callaway. We both fucked some shit up on the royal the last few times. Some on you, and a lot on me. But Ally, we have a lot of assholes to prove wrong.”

“So you are trusting me?”

“I am trusting you. Now, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, Miles.” Ally said without hesitation, “Have I ever given you reason not to?”

“No, you haven’t.” he hears the shower turn off, “Ok, I’m pretty sure Carter is about to come out here sans towel, so I’m going to let you go. We’ll catch up when we both reach Tokyo and we’ll fully plan to take the Barnharts to school. Tell my brother I said hello.”

“I wi- I mean, what do you mean?”

“Ally, I may be in the whole newlywed blissful wedding situation but I’m still occasionally checking my twitter. That and I know for a fact that LJ has been sticking close.”

“How did you-?”

“I have my ways, my dear. We’ll have to have a talk later, I must go but Ally...be careful.”

“I am, I promise.”


I am so sick and tired of Barnhart being an absolute thorn in my arse.

That is the absolute best way to put it.

Billy boi has been up on twitter claiming that the victory is well in the bag when Bill has yet to realize that there is something beyond the Roulette Division and keeping his balls tucked safely in the purse of his wife Bea.

I have been wracking my brain for a while, trying to remember when either of the Barnharts actually matters in the world of SCW beyond being the punching bag for everyone in the Roulette Division. But now they are back at trying to get this whole Mixed Tag Division thing and honestly I can’t wait to punch Bill in that big fat face of his because well honestly, he deserves it.

You’re right Bill.

It’s gonna be fun.

When I whoop your ass once and for all.

McKinney Residence
Olympia, WA

“You need to breathe, mate.” that damn Irish accent cut through every racing thought that he had.

He felt like he could run a marathon in record time with as hard as his nerves were going and not even break a sweat.

Kristjan and Mal both met him at the crack of dawn and they let Miles run the both of them through the streets of Olympia for a good 2 hour plus before Bella began to ring their respective phones, with K mumbling something about how she even had his number. But he was grateful at this particular moment because Miles could have easily kept them going with the energy that he was running on on this particular day.

By the time he and the guys crossed the threshold of the residence that was once Carter’s father’s but had since been left to him after his untimely departure, it would play host to the beginning of the next chapter of Miles and Carter’s life together.

Miles’ mom, Mora and Carter’s mom and grams, Joanna and Joan had spent damn near an entire month in preparations for this very day. They would make trips up to check on the progress, only for them to be completely floored at how different it looked from when they were there just a week prior. The ladies outdid themselves from the front of the house to the back side where the wedding and reception were all going to be held on site. It was a nice compromise especially to Carter’s mom when they informed her that they were not going to get married in a church.

And she even threw in a wedding canopy, on the dock, for them to be married under. The details alone, neither one of them could have thought up. It was like the three collective minds together, with how well they knew their sons, came together and pulled it off.

And because it was like the heavens were smiling down on them, despite Carter’s worry since they decided where they wanted to hold the wedding, the weather remained absolutely perfect and was a whole lot cooler than what was originally forecasted 10 days ago. In fact they both were watching every and all weather app for days on end.

Now as it came closer to the ceremony, Bella had returned from the room that Carter and his side were getting ready in with a huge smile and a big double thumbs up, Miles sat there in his tux and Mal’s voice breaking him out of him staring off into nothingness.

“I think he’s going to be sick.” he heard Kristjan pipe in next.

“Both of you stop and give him room,” was when Bella piped in and having her here with those two idiots seemed to be a God send at this moment.

He wondered if Carter was dealing with the same insanity.

Just before they started in again a small knock came to the door, “It’s mom.”

Bella swept over and opened it up letting Mora in, “Hi Mora!”

“Hello there, Bella. You look absolutely amazing, as do you gentlemen.”

Bella looked over at Malachi and Kristjan both looking dapper in their tuxes, except for Kristjan still holding on to the shoes that he knew he was going to have to wear for the ceremony. Bella glanced at the Mother of the Groom and her glorious outfit, “And you look amazing as well. I take it that you are here to speak to your son?”

“I am, Figured it was a good time as Carter’s mom and grams just went into his room but all the guests are arriving and taking their seats.” Mora smiled, “May I get a moment with him alone?”

“Of course,” Kristjan said.

“We’ll just wait for you right outside.” Mal said as the three ushered the other out of the door and closed it behind him before we hear, “You’re gonna have to put those damn shoes on eventually, K.”

“He’s lucky I agreed to them at all, but not until it’s time.”

Miles meanwhile in the background was fiddling with his tie, as his mother made her way over, “Here, let me handle this.”

“Seems like I’m all thumbs today,” Miles laughed as his mom carefully lifts her son's chin and begins to work on the tie. He looks up for a moment before glancing at her, “I gotta say I’ve been nervous before but this is all new.”

“Well it’s a huge step, my boy.”

“It is but I love him. Like I can’t imagine or even remember what life was like before Carter and I don’t want to,” he said as she finished tying him all up, “Was that’s what it was like for you?”

“It felt like that at first. I really did love your father before everything,” Mora said with a sad smile, “But that was our story. The way you and Carter look at one another, well even though I loved your father, I never loved him like that.”

“So that whole nagging voice I’m hearing in the back of my head-?” Miles asks with a worry in his eyes and his voice.

“You are not your father. And neither is Bri or even LJ...well, LJ maybe a little bit. He does have his eyes.” Mora jokes, “But you deserve this happiness as does your husband-to-be.”

The smile that he had been waiting for was finally there, it wasn’t scared nerves anymore, but he felt finally that he really wanted to give he and Carter the best life possible. Miles slid on his tuxedo jacket and all he could think about was that beautiful face that he will now and forever wake up to and fall asleep to from now and beyond, “He really is wonderful.”

Mora smiles and helps her son button up his jacket, and then reaches up and holds Miles’ face in her steady hands, “Save it for your vows. Let’s get you two married.”

***

If anyone knew anything about Miles and Carter, they wanted people there that meant the absolute most to them.

And they got just that. Each and every chair that was set up near the dock was filled. They made it known, and even had a sign that said “Pick a Seat, Not a Side. We’re All Family Once the Knot is tied.” So throughout the faces of the members of Wolfslair and GO Gym, along with other friends and family were patiently waiting.

Once the officiant took their place, everyone turned and watched as Laura “Phoenix” Madison, hand in hand with her son Aaron was the first down, the 5 year old holding onto a decorative box that contained the rings.

Next came the wedding party. First for the Miles side was Malachi and Bella O’Connell, who came down arm and arm, followed by the Best Man Kristjan Baltasarsson. After they were all placed, Miles along with his mother Mora made their way down the aisle. As they reached the end, Mora gave a kiss to her son’s cheek and took her seat next to her daughter who sat in the front row along with her husband Garrett and with them was Riley.

Then it was Carter's side, Dawn Warren, followed by Kat Jones and Best Woman, Ariana Angelos.

It was at this moment, Miles closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he turned and that moment he held it for a moment before he made direct eye contact with the most beautiful image. Carter stands there with both Joan and Joanna at both sides, holding a death grip onto a small collection of lilacs. He felt K nudge him a little bit to remind him once again to breathe.

Even through the music playing in the background, the whispers and all the family and friends that watched them...it was all a blur as Miles and Carter’s eyes never left one another.

When Carter reached the end of the aisle, his mom and grams both gave him a kiss on the cheek and Miles took a few steps forward, smiling the whole way and holding out his hand to Carter. There wasn’t any hesitation as Carter put his hand in Miles’. The ladies just smiled at the couple and took their seats.

Hand in hand they took center stage in front of the officiant.

“We are all gathered here, on this absolutely glorious day to witness the beginning of a new chapter for Miles and for Carter. Now while I’m sure I could stand here for quite some time rambling on about life, love and marriage, they have both told me that they have words of their own. So Carter, if you will.”

Carter nods steadily and looked directly at the man that showed him what true love was, "Miles, I didn't fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way." he stops for a moment to take a shaky breath, and grip Miles hand a little harder, "I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we'd choose anyway...and I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you."

Moments of silence pass by as the officiant looks at Miles but Miles eyes are simply filled with wonder and love and he doesn’t wait for the word to go, he just does.

“Carter, you have no idea how often I wish I could take myself back in time to certain moments with you. Sometimes it feels like there were moments wasted that we could have had. But as one says, even those that are fated sometimes take the long way around to get to the point. Once we got there, I did not want to waste one single solitary moment with you. You have turned my whole world upside down and made me realize that I was worthy of love and happiness. And more importantly, so are you.” Miles looks down at their joining hands and smiles, “Just like from day one and from here on out, I will remind you of that every single day.”

It was hard to find a dry eye after that, the officiant at that point asked for the rings and Aaron Madison, who had been practicing his duties since Miles and Carter had asked him personally in one of their trips to New York, stepped up and offered the decorative box up to the officiant and then made his way right back to his mother, father who was bouncing Máire his arms.

“I don’t think I even need to ask if anywhere here object to this union because by the looks of the best man, I have a feeling that no one would dare. But on your head, be it, if you do.”

Not one soul peeped up especially with not just Kristjan but the entire wedding party minus the happy couple, staring the whole group down, as there is a moment of laughter finally when Miles looks up and simply says “Stand down.”

Once they are able to gather themselves as they were each handed the rings.

“If you will please take the other’s ring and each other’s hand. Miles, do you take Carter to be your husband, your partner, to honor him, cherish him and love him through all and whatever you may face together?”

Miles doesn’t even hesitate with his answer, “With all my heart, I do.”

“And Carter, do you take Miles to be your husband, your partner-”

And Carter just can’t stop himself from interrupting it, cutting off the officiant, “I DO!” which causes the entire audience to burst out in laughter including the couple as they are finally able to slide their wedding bands on.

“By the power invested in me, and by the state of Washington, I now declare you husband and husband, blissfully married and by all means you may kiss your man.”

And both Miles and Carter just let out a “FINALLY!” before they sealed it off with the kiss to end all kisses and the crowd cheering loudly.

***

After they were able to get whisked back up the aisle, they had a few moments alone. There was a signing of their marriage license in which at that moment Miles surprised Carter with signing his new legal name.

Miles Anthony McKinney-Kasey

And Carter in turn surprised Miles right back with signing his

Carter Reese Kasey-McKinney

Both taking the other’s name.

Cheesy but they were both hopeless romantics at heart.

Once they were left alone, they just stood there in each other's arms and something dawned on Miles.

Pulling his head back he looked down, “I never told you where we were going on our honeymoon, did I?”

“Well we booked that BnB before we had to head to the ship, but no, you never did.”

“A few days in a luxury room, alone with you, while it’s always heaven, is not nearly long enough. AND I figure that our time on the cruise is always spectacular and a nice spot to remember the first time you ever told me you loved me, that it’s not exactly romantic either seeing as we’re both going to be working.” Miles turns around and grabs something out of a bag that wasn’t sitting that far away and pulls out a fold and opens it up, “So after we hit land following Summer Xxxtreme, you and I will be on the first flight out to the beautiful French Polynesia”

Carter reads over and sees their first class tickets attached, “You mean Bora Bora?”

“Among several other places, but it’s all set. That's why I made sure to grab your passport before we came up here.” Miles added showing both of their passports.

“So that’s what you were doing in the safe.” Carter mumbled.

“So you love it?” Miles asked only to get another kiss of a lifetime from his now husband. Miles took that as approval and broke it for a moment to put the folder back and just before it started back up again...

“Not as much as I love you.”

A knock comes to the door, and the sound of Bri’s voice through the door, “Hey newlyweds, the photographer is ready for you if you can pry from each other.”

They both sighed, slightly defeated that there moment alone has been already cut short. Carter attempted to pry himself from Miles' arms with a, “To be continued?”

And with a swift kiss before opening the door, in a tone that he knew was going to bring a shiver down his husband’s spine like it has every day since they met, “Oh we have only just begun.”

And he got just that.

***

Swantown Inn
Olympia, WA

After being shoo’d away during the late hours of that evening, Miles and Carter got to spend time with just the two of them. It had been an absolute hectic couple of weeks and in the largest room, they mostly kept to themselves.

Room service was an amazing thing and this was just the first stop on their honeymoon adventure to be continued later but even in the day they really had no desire to mingle with anyone else but each other, if you catch the drift.

Carter wanted to head to the desk though and make sure that they could get many more towels and a few things for the mini-bar and while it took a great feat of strength to let himself out of his sight, he took this chance to move around and get a look at the room beyond what he already saw.

After a few more moments, he decided to open up his phone, find that video button. He checked around real quick, not really giving a damn that he was shirtless at the moment or that those crazy curls were just pointing everywhere. But he would hit record on the video, sit there for several moments with the simplest of smiles on his face.

“I don’t think I have ever been so blissfully happy in all my life. Winning titles, huge matches...yeah it makes you feel absolutely wonderful but knowing that no matter what, I have someone that loves me, I know that we get that every single day for the rest of our lives.”

“Our lives. I’m still getting used to that. But here we are, Carter and Miles, starting our new chapter in life, happy and not a single soul is able to take it away from us.”

“It’s almost disappointing that we have to leave this but neither one of us wants to give it up for the hottest party of the season. While Carter has his hands full with that assclown, Peter Vaughn...Kris Ryan, who for some reason was left off of Climax Control 400 and I are going to practically scorch the seven seas.”

“I have been looking forward to this opportunity since you returned, Kris. In fact, I can’t even believe I’m saying this, I was jealous of the fact that my own baby brother got to be his first opponent back and I think we have all seen that Kris hasn’t lost a single step. He was so damn impressive and imagine my surprise when he even gave LJ a nod with just how good that kid is. This obviously isn’t the same Kris Ryans that when he was in the Mixed Tag Division, looked down his nose at everyone. This is something completely different.”

“And personally I cannot wait to see what we can do in that ring against one another. Mostly because by some amazing chance, we never had this chance until now. I don’t even know how the hell that is possible but alright, we live in the now.”

“The absolute potential of this match being a match of the year candidate to be ticked onto the resume isn’t that bad either. You, Kris Ryans, are a Grand Slam Champ. The only thing that is missing from your time in SCW is a Hall of Fame ring as far as I’m aware and now for your second match back, you get to face someone that isn’t afraid of a damn good challenge.”

“In fact after recent months, I am welcoming a good friendly competition instead of a knock down drag out WAR. It’s a nice change of pace BUT it’s also one that I’m looking to use as a springboard into what is quite obviously the next step in my career. I’ve done the Roulette thing, I have been Internet Champion and seeing as, as of this moment, Peter Vaughn still holds it, it’s off limits to me after I fucked it up. But I have all the faith in the world that Cater has that handled.”

“I’ve always been pegged as the next big thing around here. And for the longest time I lived with the fact that I had to disappoint people. I know I’m the class screw up but every once in a while...it’s like a brilliant moment blazes across the sky and Miles Kasey stands tall. And I’ve had some wild ambitions before but you can feel it, right? I’m not completely crazy in thinking that this is leading to bigger things for the both of us, right?”

“It’s about time that I finally live up to these wild accusations that I’m far better than I’m letting on. What a way to do it against you, Kris. Of course I know damn well you’re not about to make this easy for me and I don’t want it to be that way. You don’t get better by taking the easy road. Ever. And for those that say they are only lying or trying to con their way through and I am not about to remotely entertain that. For myself, my husband, for my family, I have to be better. So let’s start setting the pace, you the vet, the man that has been there, done that, got the dresser full of t-shirts and shelves full of accolades taking on the absolute fastest rising star and the man that has only really just begun. Not a damn thing stopping us, Kris. Let’s make them pay attention.”

In the background we hear the door open to the room followed by Carter’s voice, “Sorry it took so long, they gave me the big towels fresh out of the dryer. They smell so good.”

“Now if you excuse me, I’ve gotta get back to my pre-honeymoon honeymoon. See ya’ll next week.”

And with that Miles gives a wink and the video goes off.

And the rest they say is to be continued.

Have you read Carter’s yet? ...if you haven’t, you should before you move on....

“Miles, how does all of this make you feel?”

“Well, I will say that how LJ showed up wasn't exactly ideal.”

“Ideal? Miles, he had a whole week before and even after that he could have said ‘By the way, I’m that brother you were told about.’ But he didn’t. I can’t help but feel that there is something else we are missing and I don’t know. Maybe I am being paranoid about the whole damn thing.”

“No, you’re not being paranoid, babe. I agree that the timing of the whole damn situation isn’t exactly perfect in any way.” Miles sighed, running his hand over his face and looking around, “One day it was just me and Brianna and then the next thing I know we have this kid, barely out of uni, showing up and it’s suddenly we have a little brother that our father had no issues bringing into the world. A father, I might add that has done an absolutely spectacular job leaving a massive trail of fuck ups, one after another, yours truly included.”

And before either Carter or the doc can get a word in edgewise...

“And before you go and say that I’m not, I have a laundry list of proof that I am. But it’s because I know exactly the bullshit that dear ole da left behind that is a trail that is on fire...It’s why I have tried to spend time with him, because I don’t know what to make of it either.” Miles just shrugged, “I’ve had to learn by just going with it. I’ve had people come and go in my life so often, that either they are there or they’re not. To find out that out of nowhere I have a little brother, that Brianna has a little brother...”

“I take it Brianna is your twin sister?”

“Yeah, and she is about as suspicious of him as he is. I can’t even begin to explain the whole Ally situation either. Alexandra has had to also plow her way through a briar patch of psychos herself, and I can’t explain what is going on between those two, but sometimes you can’t stop attraction.”

Miles sits back and is trying to just process the whole thing.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.” Carter quietly spoke out after a few ticks of silence.

“Carter-” Dr. Delacore goes to say but Miles sits up and looks at his fiance.

“No. Sorry doc, didn’t mean to cut you off there.” She nods and motions Miles continues on, “-but, babe, that’s the idea behind this right? Getting things out like this before we get married because we don’t want anything to blow up our relationship. LJ, as he likes to be called, because he doesn’t think too highly of the sperm donor of our lives, is a part of that. I don’t know what to do about it. I’m just trying to get to know him and I don’t know any other way. I mean, Doc what would you do if I were in my place?”

“I wish I could tell you. It seems like your hands were almost tied in a way.”

Miles looks at Carter and motions as to say ‘see?’ before he somewhat smirks and in an almost comedy of errors Miles accepts that this is their life, “That’s one way to put it. And he and Ally aren’t all over each other, he posts shit on twitter or x or whatever the hell you call it, she fawns over it, they flirt, it goes silent for a few days.”

“Maybe they’ve moved it to private messaging since he slyly gave her his phone number.” Carter laughed out.

“I missed that, when did that happen?”

“Rumor has it, when you were off with Ally’s kid.”

“Dammit, I miss everything sometimes. Apparently I miss how you’re really feeling about my brother, and one of my close friends.” you can see how Miles feels like a fool for even missing this.

“Well that’s what these sessions are all about, Miles. I can tell you’ve never really dug too deep into your relationships like this before?”

“Can’t say I really have. With Carter, I encouraged this even when he felt like he needed to keep it from me that he was seeing you after everything that happened with his ex. It’s actually refreshing to be completely and openly honest with someone that I love. Of course, I don’t think that I’ve ever felt like this with anyone else, hence the ring on his finger that I’m looking to add to.”

“I take it they were nothing like this?”

“There has never been anything like this in my life until a year and almost a half ago. The reason I said something about Ally flirting with me is because I’m pansexual. I’ve had different types of relationships, some long term, some not so long term. The last relationship I was in, I spent most of the time getting gaslit and made to feel guilty that we both had professions that kept us busy. I felt so low before I just walked away.”

Miles looks at Carter, and takes his hand.

“I don’t want that for us and it’s why I don’t mind taking the punches to the gut with these sessions.”

“Well I think that’s the best way to end this then.”

“Wow, already?” Miles said out loud.

“Sometimes that’s how these things go. But like I said, we’ll have a few more of these before the big day. So, same time, next week?”

“I think,” Carter says before looking to Miles and he just nods, “I think so.”

“And maybe I should start thinking about doing some solo sessions of my own,” Miles said with a big breath, “Apparently, I have things I need to work through too.”

“Well that can all be made with my secretary on your way out. I look forward to seeing you both again soon.” she said holding the door open, before she stops them both, “This was a good start, both of you.”


Several Things To Say

“I do not want to do this.”

It’s a simple view.

Miles in that large overstuffed chair that he refused to get rid of when they had decided to redo the entire condo that our boys call home. It was the only thing that really stayed beyond their personal possessions, in the way of furniture. It was one of the first things Miles had actually bought when he moved in back in early January 2023. It was an ugly colour but it’s comfortable enough that he was able to convince Carter to let him keep it.

Even out in the open of the living space, which was a major accomplishment in of itself.

But Miles sat in it, he had turned it so he could look out of of one of the massive ceiling to floor windows where they had an absolutely amazing view of the desert landscape of Las Vegas. It was super early in the morning and even Kristjan hadn’t come banging on his door yet for one of their early morning runs yet.

You see, Miles hadn’t really been sleeping all that well lately...again...especially when the show’s rundown got out and no matter how hard he had tried to put a positive spin on it, there was nothing positive about some bitch trying to force Miles and Carter to knock each other out.

“I don’t know how much clearer I can make this but ever since this match was announced by the woman who became Queen for a Day at Into the Void, I have been trying and trying to figure out how to really make this work...and you guys, I am trying to be nice but in my head I have a whole lot of more names for Victoria Lyons that is nowhere near the term “Queen.” and her proclamations of this absolute horseshit of a match.”

The breath that was let out, would have easily echoed off the walls of the place had they not been adorn with the decor that somehow amazingly fit both men, even all the pictures that sat on the tables. All he could do is lean back and fold his hands over his face, trying his best to stay calm.

But...

“You’re damn right, I’m pissed about this. This is not the first time that I have had to take Carter on, in fact the last time we were in any type of match it was for the Roulette Championship and a lot of people found out I could actually carry a tune with some seriously questionable music taste. Part of me even still has PTSD from that match after I found out that Carter had entered into it with a broken finger, and never told anyone about it.”

“Victoria thinks it’s funny that she has done this to us, but instead she doesn’t seem to grasp the concept that by her doing this is only bringing back things that we have rather wanted to long forget about. It’s apparently fucking hilarious to her and somewhere in that convoluted mind, she thinks that this is only going to bring Carter and I even closer. Nah. All you’ve managed to do, you absolute twat, is dredge up months of memories where Carter was getting beat by his then boyfriend and having my hands absolutely tied to be able to do anything about it.”

That still lived fresh, even after almost 2 years.

“And honestly, part of me isn’t shocked that this has happened, because let’s face facts, the fates have been teasing this for a while now, but the fact that Ms. Lyons has the absolute audacity to claim that this is only going to bring my fiance and I even closer, is not only a slap in the face of everything we have been through but is completely ignorant and proof positive that you haven’t had anything tickle your fancy that hasn’t run on batteries.”

He leaned forward and just shook his head. He was doing everything he could to just not let it all unleash but at this moment, what was the fucking point.

“No, fuck this. Fuck you Victoria. If you had put Carter and I into a regular competitive match that would be one thing, mind you we still would have our trepidations- but you are telling us that in order to win the match we need to knock the other out? I will not ever intentionally hurt my soon to be husband.”

And he points to himself, there is always that line that you do not cross and this was crossing it with him.

“And you all know me, I have never backed down from any challenge but this, this is a line that I will not cross. No matter what Victoria Lyons says, no matter what the consequence is to either of us, you Queen or not are not going to force my hand. You will however have a nice set of middle fingers your way with all the respect that you have garnered from this powertrip you are on. You and your so-called powers can kiss my ass. I’m out.”

It’s been a hot minute since they actually were even close to the east coast, that wasn’t a layover for a flight that they were taking to an even further destination.

Coming out of Climax Control in Gettysburg, Miles was so damn riled up following what happened that night that there was no way in absolute hell that he was going to be able to check into a hotel and just settle for the night or even be remotely comfortable on a plane to head back to Vegas.

There were a lot of things that he had to settle in his head and he knew exactly where to start.

Both he and Carter had climbed into the rental, with him taking the wheel and with a couple touches of a button, in the late hours of that Sunday night, he threw it directly into drive and just went.

It was only 30 minutes or so in the time that passed and Carter realized that he wasn’t going to the airport. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna take a bit of a detour, love. Hope you don’t mind.” Miles simply stated before his phone went off with the name LJ in bright letters across the screen, “Shit. ....do me a favour, babe? Hit accept for me on that?”

Carter looked at the screen and grumbled, “Do I gotta?”

“Babe, please.” Miles said looking at him briefly, and Carter just rolled his eyes and reached up to hit ‘Accept’ followed by the speaker button, “Hey, bro.”

“Miles, Jesus, where the hell are you?”

“Yeaaaah, sorry about that mate, I needed to get the hell out of there.” Miles said, “I know we had made plans but-”

“Yeah, dinner. You gonna meet me somewhere?”

“No, man...” he took a deep breath, cursing silently to himself, “I’ll owe ya one, alright? But we’re about to get onto the turnpike.”

“Turnpike? Where the hell are you heading?”

“New York.” Miles stated flattly which caused Carter to look at him with those blue eyes wide, “It’s a long story that I’ll tell you about later but I have some business that I need to handle.”

“Do ya need anything?”

“[/color]Appreciated but no, it’s something that I need to do,” Miles said shaking his head at first and then with a quick glance at Carter, “Besides, I got Carter with me just in case I need bail money, which I won’t. But yeah, I think I’ve put this off long enough.”

“Alright, man. You two be safe and at least message me when you get there.”

“If not, I'll call in the morning.” Miles sighs, “Sorry again.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I can figure this shit out myself.”

Miles realized that this was pretty much the first time that his little brother had indeed been on his own but he is a 22 year old man. But Miles just couldn’t help himself, “Maybe Ally is still around...” Miles smirked when he heard Carter laugh.

“Hanging up now.”

“Awww, come on little bro, don’t be like that.” And then the line went silent and the GPS screen lit right back up. The couple sat in silence for a moment, Carter watching the darkness and Miles' eyes on the road. Miles just sighs and as he makes a turn he glances again at his fiance. “You alright over there?”

Carter just nods, sometimes his man confused and worried him with how quickly he was able to change his general course but this was something impetuous even for Miles, but hey...road trip, “So New York?”

“New York, if the roads agree it should be only about 3 hours, give or take...” Miles grips that wheel a little harder, “Sorry I didn’t tell you but- Let’s just say that I saw the opportunity and there is no way in hell I was gonna be able to settle myself tonight so I figured take it while I could. I checked, the old place is empty by some miracle, so I closed it off for our stay. I know it’s last minute but we can visit Bella and Mal if you want. Maybe her, Mattie and Alanah can show you some of the best places to shop. Of course if I know Mattie like I do, she’s going to want to show you her fashion house-”

“You had me at ‘New York’ but I think I need to ask this...What are you going to be doing while we’re there?” he asked, “I mean, not to pry but this is all rather spontaneous, even for you.”

“Something that I’ve put off long enough.” Miles just breathed out releasing the wheel just enough but still in control, “Why don’t you just kick back, relax and get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“If I-95 doesn’t do it first. If you need me...”

Miles reaches over and takes his hand, the hand where he slid that engagement ring on and brings it up to his lip and gives it a kiss, “I’ll wake ya. Sleep, love.”

--

It’s been a year and almost a half.

He left New York on a whim, took what he could fit into his suitcase and a couple of things that he couldn’t be without into a couple of boxes and just left New York with very little warning.

He had always intended to come back every now and again. Instead, he rooted himself in Las Vegas.

Some would have called it selfishness.

He would call it ‘Finding His Happy’. Blissfully happy and he wasn’t about to leave it and lose it.

But what he left behind would come back to haunt him on more than one occasion. Austin and Finn, on more than one occasion, as a prime example. He owed Wolfslair so much, one for bettering him in that ring, him being able to claim control of himself in that ring instead of his old devil-may-care style. The other was an ability to stand up for himself. For so long he took a lot of narcissistic abuse from people in his life and they showed him that he had no reason to even entertain that.

The Lukas Sisters, those two helped him work through a lot of that.

Kallie, and by proxy Aiden, helped him realize that he needed to stop hiding from the things he wanted the most.

Alex Jones, brought him into focus in the ring along with every single talent that he had ever worked with in the ring at the Wolfslair gym in New York.

Austin James Mercer...the heated rivalry that they had should have given Miles plenty of clues that he fucked up with them, and he knew it.

And then there was Finn Whelan, the man that took him in when he had to get out of the rat infested shithole that he lived in when he was snapping out of his latest hell of a relationship. Finn gave him sanctuary in a way when he didn’t have to.

Miles was never shy about making it known that his stay at the Wayward Home that Finn had was strictly temporary. In fact, that’s why Miles even HAD the modest two bedroom apartment quite literally 5 floors down from the penthouse of Finn’s. That was going to be his next step if he hadn’t let his heart lead the way to Vegas.

He never forgot about any of it but if anyone were to ever ask him as to why he just never came back, he would simply say “I found my happy.”

He still proudly took everything that he had learned at Wolfslair and implemented it into his time in Vegas whether it was working with some of the younglings when the door was open for him to work occasionally at GoGym or into his own training with Fenris.

Hell, he would even see Zoey more than anyone because she would come in and spend time with Aron so much that it was amazing that she just didn’t move in the Baltasarsson’s condo. And of course he and Bella were still extremely close as they always were, she also knew better to ask him about everything especially after how her and Mal’s story began.

You go where you are happiest and you hold on and don’t let it go.

But if Miles really wanted to be truthful about all of it....Maybe all of it was a tad bit of cowardice.

After a month turned into 4 months, that turned into 9 and then into a year and even to now...how the hell was it going to be for him to just show back up in New York and look at them all in their faces after ALL this time?

--

They got to New York and right into the apartment and nothing had changed much. He was thankful that Carter had talked him into hiring a decorator and maid for the place when he officially decided to rent out the space as an AirBNB, so when people came and went things were cleaned and fixed almost immediately.

They were here once before already back shortly after Bella had her daughter, and Carter was right, it really was a pity that he spent no real time here as the view even from a few floors down from the penthouse where he decided to pursue his heart’s desire, was absolutely spectacular even at night.

Carter was fast asleep and Miles...was the complete opposite.

He had to pull the proverbial band-aid eventually.

Dawn hadn’t even cracked in the city that never sleeps, he left Carter a note and he was out the door. He took the route he took when he lived at Finn’s just like had been doing it every day. It barely changed at all, except some of the graffiti, hell he ever recognized some of the faces along the way that he saw a year and a half ago.

Once he reached the gym, it was only then when his steps slowed.

The outside still had the basketball court where they would goof off and have a little fun with each other and the neighborhood kids. He walked onto it and just looked around, he sucked at basketball but none of them were made for the NBA which made it just as much fun. Just a bunch of the guys fuckin’ around, heckling the hell out of one another while the girls watched in amusement because they were all shit.

He kept his feet moving into the parking lot that somehow they managed to have and that’s where he stopped himself.

The front door.

He did this shit the last time he was in the city. He got this far and punked out. No one but he knew and he wasn’t about to pass it around. He told everyone that he still proudly waved the banner of Wolfslair but he was too damn chicken shit to make amends. At the least, he owed them an apology.

At the most, he was content on running drills until he puked, because hell he deserved it at this point.

That was even depending on if he could still get into the place.

“The keypad is still in the same spot by the door.” A voice, normally bubbly with her attitude, came across slightly snide. Miles turned his head in the direction and found himself staring at Kallie. She had her bag on her shoulder and her arms crossed. Aiden was coming up behind her, and his expression became somewhat of a frown.

Miles placed a hand behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah…I wasn’t sure if my card still worked.”

“Might as well try it, mate. Sonja doesn’t update the thing though, hey.” Aiden replied, shrugging his shoulders. “If she has, well, you’ll ‘ave an answer.”

Miles reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and it took a bit of finagling but he did manage to remove that keycard from the spot that it had stayed, “As you can tell, it hasn’t been moved in a while. Carter is driving me nuts to get a new wallet but I just couldn’t.”

Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the pad and held the card in front of it and once again as if no time had passed at all his card activated and unlocked the door. Miles just stopped as if he is even amazed by this even being a possibility, and he opened the door up to his shock, “I’ll be damned.”

“Lucky you,” Aiden pushed past him. Kallie, with her arms still crossed, pursed her lips slightly and then moved past him as well, holding the door open with her index finger.

Miles swallows hard before stepping inside the front area of the facility. Sonja was seated at the front.. Alex’s wife ran all of the overhead, and it was rare to see her down here at all. She glanced up and did a double-take. “Miles?” She questioned.

“Hi Sonja,”

“It’s been a while.” She tilted her head backwards, at the gym area itself. “They’re all in there.”

Miles nodded, and swallowed at the same time. This was the moment in time that he had been dreading, but at the same time, he needed to do this. He headed past the desk and into the large warehouse that had been converted into a full-fledged gym, complete with a wrestling ring and a variety of equipment to keep them all in the best shape.

He felt like a pariah when he opened the doors and felt the eyes of the others on him. Alicia threw down what she was doing and walked away in a huff, Zoey following while also trying to explain Miles’ absence to her. In the corner, by the rock wall, was Austin, who nodded in understanding, but his expression didn’t change. Aiden and Kallie had disappeared into their respective locker rooms. Kallie’s brother, Zach, was new to the gym, but he wasn’t unknown to Miles – he raised an eyebrow but went back to what he was doing. Alex, however, seemed mildly annoyed as he leaned over the ropes, nevertheless nodded.

“Look what the cat drug in.”

Miles looked over from the place at the entrance in the direction of the offices that the heads of staff held. Finn Whelan, the SCW World Heavyweight Champion, leaned on the metal bannister outside of his door, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face. He inclined his head into his office, and then headed inside of it, heading directly for his desk and sitting down. Miles followed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“‘Lo, Finn.” Miles replied.

Finn turned to his computer and clicked on the mouse. “Sightseeing with Carter?”

“Actually, we made the trip up last night after Climax Control specifically for this. Well, I made it, Carter just came along. Left him back at the apartment, still sleeping.” Miles shrugged, “Told him to not worry about me, to call Bella when he got up. But I really needed to come here.”

A smirk slipped onto Finn’s face, and he chuckled, pushing his chair back and sliding to his printer. “Feeling nostalgic or guilty?” He glanced at Miles’ face, which betrayed more than he thought would. “Ah, the latter. Well, you and me can just be the heathens they keep around to point and laugh at if you’re feeling up to it. I mean, it’s not so bad. I still have an office.”

“Yeah, well I did just run off to Vegas to originally help Carter get comfy and then just sort’ve stayed for someone I fell stupidly hard for and just stayed put. Truth be told, I never in a million years thought for one iota of a second that I wouldn’t have been back here more but the longer I waited, the worse that feeling got.” Miles sighed, “I know I fucked up. Hell I still have dreams of the hell Austin put me through, and you as well. I just- I don’t even know. I don’t even know where to start with even trying to make up for it.”

Peering at him over his desk, Finn leaned forward onto his elbows as he crossed his arms. “Be here.”

Miles raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not saying all the time, I’m not saying once a week. Maybe one week a month, work it out with Alex.” The Irish-American nodded his head. “There’s a lot of shit that goes on in this place – everyone has fuck ups. But the one constant is that they are here. They are putting in the effort for the benefit of this place to benefit ourselves in return. You’re gonna have to run your paces. I mean…if you want.”

“Well,” Miles leans against the wall he was standing by, “I haven’t slept for shit because of how nervous I was about all of this but...you think they’d let me start now?”

“Wanna be hazed today? Because I’m sure McWaffletwat would be happy to provide that judging by her adorable demeanor.”

Miles smirks and looks back for the moment, “Well, I do believe the saying is ‘No time like the present’.”

“Then I would say…get to it.” Finn chuckled as he stood and clapped Miles on the shoulder. He tightened his grip though. “Be careful. And welcome back, kid. If Alex says something, just have him come to me. You know I love to have arguments with him.”

Miles snickered as he rose to his feet. “That’ll never end, will it?”

“Nah. It’s forever.”


--

“Peter, let’s be full on fucking obvious here. No matter how you paint it, you are the absolute asshole in all of this.”

“And I don’t fucking get you, mate. You are actually proud of the things you accomplished after our match of the year candidate, like it’s some big badge of honour to be an absolute shit-heel of champion right off the bat because no matter how hard you tried, you KNEW that you on your best day couldn’t beat my ass cleanly.”

“And hell, good on you, bruv. There isn’t a whole lot of people that could say that they wouldn’t do the same damn thing, and if they would, they would be a liar. The extreme desperation of what you did and have done is nothing short of breath-taking. Not only from the standpoint of someone who has watched this damn business for a long ass time, but as the man that you STOLE that Internet Championship from. You didn’t beat me bruv, you took it like a thief in the night and because- as the saying goes- the referee’s decision is final, you got away with an absolute sham of a win.”

“You have been walking around SCW like you won the lottery when we all know you robbed a piggy bank. And it’s a shit move but you just had to keep piling and piling and piling onto that. First of all, you are SO damn lucky that in that match that got your ass knocked out of the Blast From the Past, that it was Bobbie that ate that pin and not you. If you had dropped that title to Raven, I would have never forgiven you ever.”

“You may be a tosspot but he’s fuckin nuts and I just don’t have the time to deal with that right now.”

“But that match...that tag match in Turkey- I bet you have been praying since you had to use chloroform to knock Carter out, that I wouldn’t catch you. You’re lucky that our training staff knows what the hell they are doing because of how that country treats those of the LGTBQIA community. You put Carter in a lot of danger because your ego will never let you lose ANYTHING fairly. And you better fucking believe that I am going to take a whole lot of anger about that out on you because you honestly fucking deserve it.”

“You proved that time and time again. You are without a shadow of a doubt a sham of not only a champion but even as an SCW Superstar. I thought the Saviors were better than that but sometimes I really shouldn’t be allowed to think. But I think the fact that even I have hit my limit with your bullshit is why I even remotely agreed to this match to begin with. When approached with an idea of what it should be, there was one passing moment of potentially getting some flesh eating fish but- been there done that and I don’t think Carter would forgive me ever again if I had another scar on my ass from that.”

“Hell I even suggested possibly chucking someone off the side of the boat but that was frowned upon as well because the United States Navy can’t seem to bare the insurance costs...because the BILLIONS of dollars that this country spends on its military is just pulled a little too tight right now. BUT I DIGRESS! No, mate, if we’re going to end this, we’re going to end this properly. You, me and no more bullshit, no more fucking excuses. We’re going to beat the absolute piss out of one another.”

“Actually, nah, scratch that, I’m gonna beat the ever loving piss out of you. WHY? Because you deserve it, mate. You have been taking a piss out of everyone that you possibly could for a long time now and there have only been a handful that have managed to put your ass in your place. I could have been that a while ago but hell, I always loved the chase a little bit more.”

“You, Peter Vaughn, Savior and SCW Internet Champion are about to find yourself in the roughest situation of your entire life. I’m not out for JUST the Internet Champion. I’m out for redemption. I’m out for revenge. I’m out for your blood, bruv.”

“The Internet Championship is just the prize at the end of that particular rainbow.”