Las Vegas – Centennial Medical Center

The smell of antiseptic hit Miles Kasey the moment he stepped off the elevator. That sterile, metallic tang that clung to the walls and the floors and the inside of his throat. He adjusted the straps of the baseball cap pulled low over his brow and gave a polite nod to the nurse at the station, who waved him toward Room 312.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since he pulled Kevin out of hell and into this place of humming fluorescent lights and soft-voiced nurses. Two weeks of tests, clean-up and therapy and a massive amount of cautious recovery.

And one week since Kevin had refused to see him.

Miles hesitated outside the door, hand hovering over the handle. He exhaled sharply, steeling himself, then pushed inside. Kevin sat on the edge of the bed, a tray table in front of him with a half-eaten bowl of soup and some crackers. His hair was freshly washed, falling in lank brown strands around his face. The shadows under his eyes were still there, but he looked… lighter, somehow.

Kevin glanced up—and for a moment, he looked like he might tense up again. But then his expression shifted, and he let out a breath, “Hey, Miles.”

“Hey, kid.” Miles kept his voice gentle, eyes scanning Kevin’s face for any sign of distress. He approached the bed, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, "You’re looking a bit better. Is the soup any good?”

Kevin shrugged, poking at the crackers, "A lot better than the stuff they tried to give me the first week. Some weird ass shakes because they weren’t sure if I was being fully truthful about the last time I really ate. That shit tasted like wet cardboard in can form. Actually threw one of them at someone.”

Miles cracked a small grin, "I’ll have to sneak you in something better next time. Maybe some In-N-Out, make sure you tell me your favs before I leave.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Kevin’s face, but then his eyes dropped. He picked at a loose thread on his blanket, “Look about last week...” Kevin’s voice was low, almost swallowed up by the steady beep of the machines, "I’m sorry I told you and your brother...what was his name again? LJ! That’s it. I’m sorry I told LJ to fuck off. I was having a really bad day, not even sure what or who I was that day.”

Miles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Kev, you don’t gotta apologize for that, not to me. And not to LJ. We both know that you’ve been through enough to earn a few bad days.”

“Still Miles, just do me a fav,” Kevin swallowed, his voice tight, "Tell him I’m sorry, yeah? LJ, I mean.”

“I will.” Miles nodded firmly, "He gets it. We both do, trust me.”

Kevin fell silent for a while, tracing patterns on the sheet with his fingertip. Miles waited, patient, not pushing. Finally, Kevin let out a shaky sigh, “So, now that I seem to be under a bit of control, let me guess why you are here. You wanna know why I couldn’t stay with my dad..when I went back to LA.” It wasn’t a question.

Miles didn’t move, "Only if you’re ready, mate.”

Kevin stared down at the blanket, words tumbling out soft and uneven, "He...he didn’t hit me or anything. He didn’t have to. I think....I think I’d almost prefer it if he did. Then at least I’d know what to expect. But he’d look at me like...like I was a stain. Like I’d fucked everything up just by existing. Like he wanted me gone but didn’t have the balls to say it. I got back from my first time leaving, and he’d come home and...I don’t know, he’d just pretend that I wasn’t there. Or he’d scream at me for leaving, that’d usually come after he came home from drinking. He would call me a liar, a thief, a disappointment. It got really bad when my little brother said it was my fault mom is in prison. He wouldn’t say it but dad never denied it when he said it, he looked at me like it was my fault he lost everything. After a while, I started to believe him.”

His voice cracked on that last sentence, eyes blinking furiously to keep tears at bay. Miles felt something splinter in his chest.

“Kevin, none of what happened to your mom, that’s not on you.” Miles’s voice was rough, "Not one fuckin’ bit of it. You hear me?”

Kevin gave a tiny nod but didn’t look up, "Well, it didn’t help any that what really set the whole thing off was my little brother was really on me one day. Screaming at me, just because he needed someone to scream at. Then he started going off about how he heard things about what I did when I took off the first time. He used the same word that mom used when she was screeching about you and Carter. Next thing I know, I punched him, right in the nose. Blood gushed everywhere, dad had to drive him to the hospital, CPS got called because dad still smelled like alcohol and when they pointed the finger at me...well they saw me as a threat to both of my brother and sister. After that, I went back home, grabbed what I could and just took off.”

He glanced over to Miles who sat there, soaking every piece of it in, “I fell right into it. They wanted to get rid of me because I was close with you and they just wanted someone to blame...and I let them. I’m just apparently meant to ruin everyone’s life.”

Miles reached across the tray and gently nudged Kevin’s hand.

“Listen to me, kid. I don’t give a shit what your da said. You didn’t ruin anyone’s life and you deserve better than all of this. And I know you think I can’t do anything, but I’m gonna try anyway. I’m stubborn like that.”

Kevin finally lifted his gaze, eyes bloodshot but fierce, "Even if there’s nothing left to fix?”

Miles stared at him dead-on, unwavering, "Then I’ll find you something new. A new start. A new home. A new chance. Whatever it takes.”

Kevin huffed a shaky breath that might’ve been a laugh, "You sound like a bloody superhero.”

Miles smirked, "Nah, superheroes wear tights. I’ve just got a big mouth and a hard head.”

Kevin wiped at his eyes, looking away toward the window, "I dunno, man. Part of me thinks it’d be easier to just disappear and not have to deal with any of it.”

Miles sat back, folding his arms, "Yeah, well. I’m not gonna let you disappear again, because you deserve a life, Kev. And I’m gonna help you find it, whether you like it or not. I did want to let you know though, that on Sunday we’re going to be gone for about a week or so on the Summer Xxxtreme cruise, but I will make sure that the nurses and doctors have mine and Carter’s numbers, if at anytime you just wanna call and bullshit, as long as we’re not working, we’ll be there. A’ight?”

Kevin went quiet again, the weight of everything still pressing down but somehow a little lighter, “A’ight...mate”

Miles laughed and then glanced at the soup, "Eat some more, yeah? You’re still lookin’ like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

Kevin rolled his eyes but picked up his spoon, "Alright, alright. Just no more cardboard protein drinks.”

Miles let out a soft laugh, the sound echoing in the sterile room, and sat there while Kevin ate, determined to keep being the stubborn bastard who refused to let him go.

“By the way Miles?” Kevin said between sips.

“Yeah, mate?”

“Don’t you wear tights when you wrestle?”


Los Angeles – Late Afternoon

Hank Chapman’s house sat on a narrow street in East LA, just another sunbaked single-story with peeling paint and a lawn littered with plastic toys. Miles Kasey stood on the cracked walkway, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stared at the door.

He’d driven all night from Vegas, replaying every word Kevin had told him. The way the kid’s voice had gone small and tight. The way he kept saying it’s my fault. Miles wasn’t the kind of man who let things lie. And he sure as hell wasn’t letting this one go.

He rapped his knuckles against the door—hard. A moment later it cracked open, revealing Hank Chapman. Hank looked older than his forty-some years, sun-worn and hollow-eyed, wearing a grease-stained mechanic’s shirt unbuttoned over a white tee. His expression flickered from confusion to annoyance the second he saw Miles.“…Can I help you?”

Miles offered him a grin that didn’t reach his eyes, "Yeah, Hank. Remember me? Miles Kasey. The husband of the man your now ex-wife tried to have killed? OH and the newest thing, I’m the one who pulled your 16-year-old son outta the gutter in Vegas.”

Hank’s face tightened, "I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Miles barked out a dry laugh, "Oh, don’t fuckin’ play dumb with me, mate. Kevin. Your son. Sixteen years old. Brown hair, brown eyes, weighs about as much as a wet towel because he’s been starved and trafficked for half a year.”

Hank swallowed, "I said I don’t know...”

“Cut the shit, Hank!” Miles snapped, voice sharp enough to slice skin, "Your kid nearly died. He’s been in the hospital for two fuckin’ weeks and will probably be there for another four, trying to remember what it’s like not to sleep with one eye open. And where the fuck were you, huh? Watching TV? Getting laid? Working on your piece-of-shit car? Because let me tell you something, I was the one holding a bucket while your boy threw up half his organs. I was the one sitting with him at three in the morning because he couldn’t close his eyes without screaming. So don’t stand there and act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

A woman’s voice floated in from the hallway behind Hank, "Baby, who is it?”

Miles leaned sideways, peering past Hank. A tall, slender woman with bleached blonde hair and a smirk plastered across her lips came into view. She wore cut-off shorts and a tank top that left absolutely nothing to the imagination and a swirling tattoo exposed on her shoulder.

“Oh,” she said, looking Miles up and down, "So you’re the guy sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Got sick and tired of blowing up his phone huh?”

Miles tilted his head, eyes narrowing, "And you must be the new Missus. Or is it just a hobby for you, wreckin’ families for sport?”

“Fuck you, asshole,” she snapped.

Miles ignored her entirely and pinned Hank with a glare, "Kevin’s sixteen, Hank. He’s still a kid. A kid who ran away twice because he’d rather sleep under neon lights in Fremont than spend five minutes in this house.”

Hank opened his mouth, shut it again. His shoulders hunched a little, "You don’t know how hard it’s been.”

“Save it,” Miles growled, stepping forward until they were chest to chest, "I know exactly how hard it’s been. And you know what? I don’t give a shit how hard it was for you. Your boy came back here. He tried to stay and what’d you do? You shoved him right back out the door. And why? Because Blondie over there couldn’t handle him bein’ around?”

Blondie scoffed, "He broke his little brother’s nose after the kid called him a...”

“I know EXACTLY what name he was called, you do not need to repeat it.” Miles snarled in her direction.

That caused yet another scoff “That kid’s a fuckin’ mess. Bringing all kinds of trouble. He’s better off...”

“He’s better off without you.” Miles rounded on her, eyes blazing, "He’s better off without a house where he gets treated like fuckin’ cancer. And don’t you ever talk about him like that again.”

Blondie bristled, but Hank held up a hand, "Look...man, Karen, Kevin’s mom, she fucked everything up for what she did to your husband. She went to prison, destroyed our family, left me with three kids and no money. I’ve been working double shifts, tryin’ to keep food on the table. Kevin, he wasn’t the same when he came back. Always angry. Always quiet. And...and he looked at me like I was the enemy.”

Miles’ voice dropped dangerously soft, "Because you are, Hank. You left him out there to die.”

Hank’s jaw tightened, "I can’t help him.”

Miles stared at him, a muscle ticking in his cheek, "No. You won’t. So let me make this simple for you, yeah? You don’t have to worry about Kevin anymore. I’m gonna make sure that boy’s got a roof over his head, food in his belly, and people around him who don’t treat him like garbage. He’s my responsibility now. And one day, you’re gonna have to look him in the eye and explain why you couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck.”

Blondie rolled her eyes, "You think you’re some big hero...”

Miles pointed a finger at her, pure steel in his voice, "Shut. The fuck. Up. I’m fairly certain I can go down the block into the corner mart and run into at least 10 guys you’ve fucked.”

He looked back at Hank, all pretense of calm gone, "Enjoy your shiny new life, mate. Kevin’s not your problem anymore. Considering you went from living in a condo to living the slums, I say that I’m probably doing you a big favour anyways. Get yourself straighten up, get your shit together, do whatever you want. But let me tell you one last thing, if you ever try to come sniffin’ around him, for a handout or some fake reconciliation so you can look good? You will find out exactly why I let the police handle that bitch of an ex-wife of yours, because I will bury you so deep the world’ll still be diggin’ you up in ten years.”

He shoved past Hank, storming down the cracked walkway to his Jeep.

Behind him, Hank just stood there on the porch, silent and small, while the new girlfriend sputtered curses into the dusty LA breeze.

Miles didn’t look back because Miles didn’t give a fuck.


Las Vegas – Turnberry Towers – Late Night

The city glowed outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, streaks of the neon electric blue and pink washing across the living room walls. Inside, the condo was quiet except for the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional honk from traffic far below.

Miles stood at the kitchen island, gripping the edge so hard his knuckles were white. A half-empty glass of water sat ignored beside him. His hair was damp from a shower, the dark curls that Carter loves so much, hanging in his eyes. He stared down at the countertop, chest rising and falling in short, frustrated breaths.

Carter entered the room in sweatpants and a loose tank, fresh from the bedroom. He paused in the doorway, reading the tension in every line of Miles’ body.

“Alright, Milo talk to me,” Carter said softly, "You’ve been pacing the floors like a tiger all night.”

Miles swallowed hard, jaw working. For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. Then, he sucked in a sharp breath and let it all pour out, "You haven’t called me that in, I don’t know how long. I’m sorry love, I- I feel like my brain’s runnin’ at fuckin’ Mach Jesus,” he burst out, "Everything’s just spinning.”

He lifted his hands, fingers splayed, like he might tear his hair out.

“I keep thinkin’ about Kevin, about the look on his face when he said he couldn’t go back to his dad’s. I keep hearin’ how small his voice sounded when he apologized to me. He’s sixteen, Carter. Sixteen. And he’s already talkin’ like the world’s too heavy for him.”

Carter stepped closer but stayed silent, letting him vent.

Miles dropped his gaze to the countertop. His voice wavered, “And it’s messin’ with me, babe. Because I keep thinkin’...fuck...” Miles' breath actually stuttered as he processed it all, “That was me, wasn’t it? Me and Bri and Mum when my old man just up and left. We were just kids and suddenly there was this giant hole in the world and we had to pretend we were fine, except we really weren’t. Kevin’s sittin’ there, starin’ at me with those eyes, and all I see is my own past starin’ back.”

Carter reached out, fingers brushing Miles’ forearm. Miles leaned into it, like a man drowning.

“And now...now I’ve got the fuckin’ Overboard Battle Royal comin’ up,” Miles said, voice growing sharper, “And all I keep thinkin’ is what if I win? What if this actually leads me to a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship? Because that’s the dream, right? That’s what we kill ourselves for.”

He let out a bitter laugh, "But what if it puts me right in your way?”

Carter’s brow furrowed, "Miles...”

“I know it’s wrestling. I know it’s business. But we both know how real that ring gets,” Miles said, his voice trembling, "And the idea of steppin’ into that ring and lookin’ across at you like that again. Fuck, love, it makes me sick. Because I’d want that title with every bit of me, but I’d never want to hurt you to get it. I’d never want to be the reason you lost somethin’ you fought so hard for. I did that once with Finn and I have lived to regret that every day since, ”

Carter sighed and pulled him closer, pressing his forehead to Miles’.

Miles kept going, voice raw, "And on top of it all, I’ve got this wild feeling that somethin’s about to go wrong. I can’t fuckin’ place it. But it’s like...there’s this storm comin’, and I can’t figure out where it’s gonna hit. And I’m just...so goddamn tired of feelin’ like I’m not enough to stop it.”

He blinked hard, fighting the sting behind his eyes, "I’m tired of feelin’ like I’m always fixin’ broken things, but never fixin’ myself.”

Carter held him tighter, "Miles...you’re not broken and you’re certainly not alone. You hear me? We’ll figure this out. Whatever comes, we’ll figure it out.”

Miles gave a shaky nod, burying his face briefly against Carter’s shoulder before straightening again, eyes red but fierce.

“Yeah,” he said, voice steadier, "We will. I just gotta get there first, don’t I?”

Carter cracked a grin through the worry, brushing Miles’ cheek with his thumb, "And I’d expect nothin’ less from my stubborn ass of a husband.”

Miles exhaled a rough laugh. He sagged a little against the counter, feeling like the weight on his shoulders had eased, just a fraction. And when Carter wrapped himself around him, he was able to release and wrap himself around Carter and just let time be.

-------

Las Vegas, NV — Miles Kasey’s Condo — Late Night

The condo was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional Vegas sirens wailing somewhere far below. Miles stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms folded, staring out at the neon-soaked city like it might hand him answers. His reflection in the glass looked older somehow, shadows under his eyes, his jaw working as if chewing over a thousand thoughts at once.

On the coffee table behind him, the SCW Summer Xxxtreme promotional poster sat half-rolled, six names scrawled in black Sharpie around his own. He turned away from the window, jaw setting, and crossed the room.

He dropped down onto the sofa, elbows on his knees, and glanced at the list one more time. Then he spoke into the silence, voice low and tight:

“You know,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder as if every man in this match was standing there with him, “I’ve been in this business long enough to know that opportunity doesn’t always knock politely. Sometimes it kicks your door in and dares you to do something about it.”

He straightened, rolling his shoulders, his gaze flinty.

“And that’s what this is, this right here, this match at Summer XXXTreme. It’s opportunity in its most brutal form. The kind that doesn’t give a toss about what you’ve been carrying or what you’ve survived to get here. It’s simple: you show up, or you get run over.”

He braced his forearms on the rail, voice low but certain.

“Eddie Lyons.”

A humorless smile flickered across his face. “Unbreakable Eddie Lyons.

I’m gonna start with you, mate, because I know the fire you’ve got inside. You and me, we’ve circled each other long enough. I’ve seen you in that ring give everything until your body’s screaming to quit—but sometimes, that’s not enough. Because fire alone doesn’t get it done. Precision gets it done. Experience. And I’ve got that in spades, Eddie. I respect you, but I’m not letting you walk out with that win. Not when I’m this close to getting back everything I’ve lost.”

He shifted forward, rolling his shoulders like loosening a pair of wings, eyes dropping to the next name.

“Mate, you were one of the first people to welcome me into SCW. You’ve been chasing validation ever since you dropped the Roulette title, and you’ve been so close—so many times—to proving you’re more than potential. You’re hungry, and I respect that, but you and I both know respect doesn’t get you shit when that bell rings. It’s about who has the will to dig deeper when everyone else is gassed out. And I promise you, Eddie, nobody is ready to dig deeper than I am right now.”

He tipped his head back, exhaling a slow, tired laugh.

“Aiden Reynolds.”

Miles’ expression darkened, the respect there—but tempered by something sharper. “Aiden Reynolds.

My own bloody teammate. My brother in Wolfslair.

And I know you’re probably sitting somewhere in your room right now thinking about how we’re going to tear each other apart on that boat. It’s what we do, yeah? We fight, we claw, we push each other to be better. And that’s what I expect from you at Summer Xxxtreme, mate. I expect the absolute best Aiden Reynolds there is. Because I’m bringing the absolute best Miles Kasey there’s ever been.

And I’m not sorry for what’s gonna happen. Because when that bell rings? It’s every man for himself. And I want that number one contendership more than I want the next breath in my chest.”

“Brother, you and I have fought side by side. We’ve trained together, bled together. But when it comes to that ring, there’s no sanctuary. You’re Wolfslair through and through, but I need you to understand something: I can’t afford to play nice. I’ve spent too long holding back to spare people’s feelings. This isn’t personal, Aiden—it’s survival. And if it comes down to you and me? I will do whatever I have to do.”

He paused, running his tongue over his teeth like tasting something bitter, before shifting his focus to the next name.

“Liam Davis.

I’ll admit, I don’t know you as well as some of the others in this match. But I’ve watched the tapes. I’ve seen you coming out swinging, trying to carve your name into the walls of SCW. I respect that hustle, mate. But you need to understand something: there’s a big difference between wanting it and knowing how to take it. And I’m not in the mood to let someone still finding their footing stand in my way. Not now. Not when everything I’m fighting for is on the line.”

Miles sighed, rubbing a palm over his mouth. He looked tired. But when he dropped his hand, the ice was back in his eyes.

“Justin Smith.

You’ve been talking a big game lately. I hear it. The bravado, the swagger, the chip on your shoulder. But here’s the thing, mate… talk only takes you so far. You can run your mouth all day long about being overlooked, about being the future—until you’re face to face with someone who’s been the present for a hell of a lot longer than you’ve even been in this business. You’re going to find out firsthand that there’s levels to this game. And I’m on a level you’re nowhere near ready for.”

Miles exhaled hard, like blowing out steam from a valve. He planted a finger on the poster right next to another name.

“I’ve had a hell of a year. Carter and I finally getting married, getting close to that 1st anniversary. Finding LJ. Watching him struggle and fight for his place. Seeing the absolute worst of humanity in some cheap motel in Vegas, and realizing that no matter how much you try to save everyone, sometimes all you can do is fight for what you can control.”

“This match is something I can control. This is a chance to remind the world—remind myself—why I’m still here. Why I’m still relevant. Because for too long, people have looked at me like I’m the guy who’s just there. The safe bet. The friendly face. The one who shakes your hand win or lose.”

Miles’ stare went flat.

“Not anymore.”

“This match is the pedestal I’ve been clawing my way back to. Because you can talk about titles, about accolades, about legacies all you want—but it starts here. It starts with proving, once and for all, that no matter how many times I get knocked off course, I will always find my way back to the fight.”

“I’m tired of feeling like I’m standing on the outside looking in. Like the moments I’ve built for myself are slipping through my fingers.

Winning this match at Summer Xxxtreme? It doesn’t just put me in line for a title shot. It puts me right where I belong—on top of this division. In the conversation. And yeah… maybe staring across the ring at my own husband if it comes to that.

I’ve worked too hard, bled too much, and given too many years of my life to be left behind.

So to every single name on this list…

I hope you’re ready.

Because I’m coming for all of you.

And I’m not leaving that cruise without my name etched as the number one contender.”

He reached out and rolled the poster closed, tying it with an elastic band. Then he sat there in the hush of the condo, the neon glow spilling across his face, the weight of it all pressing on his shoulders—and the fire in his chest burning hotter than ever.

Orlando, Florida. Wednesday 9th July.

Liam knew this match will go against everything he believes in so instead of having a traditional wrestling office discussion inside of a wrestling office like most wrestlers would have if they are unhappy about the situations they were put in, Liam decided to have a discussion with one of the SCW bosses in his own office in Orlando, Florida instead as a way for not the entire locker room to know their business discussions because it was the smarter thing to do than exposing this very thing that goes against Liam's morals.

This was something that was extremely hard for Liam to accept, especially going by the badge of honour and respecting people outside of the ring which is exactly sure he didn't do against Kevin Carter, but he wasn't deserving of it because of his treatment of treating every other wrestlers look like shit.

He done his paperwork as a police officer, expecting a visit from the SCW bosses or at least one of them. He heard a knock on the door which the guy was granted permission as Liam heard the guy saying I was invited to talk to Liam. Liam got up and he opened the door to the other SCW boss standing across the room from him, the guy known as Christian Underwood.

Christian got to see the office that no wrestler would ever get to see, unless they done criminal activities. He at first shook hands with Christian as a way to be polite as Liam closed the door and sat down and he says this with a touch of anger.

Liam Davis: “I don't agree with the match I've been put in to be honest Christian.”

Christian Underwood: “What, the fact you got an opportunity to be a heavyweight title contender?”

Liam Davis: “No, the whole idea of what you've done with the match. It would've been alright for the battle royal to be eliminated in the pool, but overboard?”

Christian Underwood: “I wouldn't reject this offer granted to you if I was you.”

Liam Davis: “Oh yes, I should be so grateful of throwing people overboard into the sea below, contradicting everything I believe in. Especially when I had to recently arrest a guy for throwing people overboard. How does that reflect on me as a police officer?”

Granted, it was the first time Christian had ever met Liam Davis other than checking if things were alright and to his taste, but clearly this was not one of those times and it was in a way very understanding where Liam was coming from, but at the same time, Christian had to nail the point, especially it was Liam who granted to see Christian instead of Mark who had nothing to do with the situation on why he did this.

Christian Underwood: “I've been working on this deal for fifteen years Liam to do a battle royal match and I appreciate you wanting to talk to me like a man away from the wrestling office with your police office, more than other people can say. But this is an opportunity of your life in your forth match. Who else wouldn't take it?”

Liam Davis: “You don't see my problem, do you Christian? Title opportunities are not the problem here. I can fully admit I didn't deserve the Internet title and I take them by the balls. But this is not about that, it's about me throwing men overboard to win the match is the issue. Do you not get it in your head?”

Christian Underwood: “I fully get it Liam, I do understand this contradicts everything you do as a police officer, especially when you arrested a guy recently for throwing people overboard but you have to do the match, even if it goes against your morals, even if it goes everything you do to protect people to be arrested from throwing people overboard.

Liam Davis: “Couldn't you have made the match to be a fucking battle royal by eliminating opponents over the pool like you did with the bombshells match? I'd much prefer if you done that than making me do shit of throwing people overboard that goes against everything police officers are meant to do.”

That was very clear now that Christian did seem to understand. It wasn't like demanding to make changes for themselves or changing match decisions or even demanding a title match like all the other wrestlers have complained about before. If anything, it means having Liam out of the chance for the Heavyweight title opportunity if it meant throwing people overboard.

Christian Underwood: “I couldn't because I wanted to do something new beyond the throwing people over the pool. I get it, I could've done that, but I wanted something new that's not been done before.”

Liam Davis: “Yeah me being extremely uncomfortable breaking my damn morals and making myself a hypocrite, making that criminal I put in jail and everyone else I arrested for those crimes OK to do.”

Christian Underwood: “Is this what you think this is what's about? I thought a guy like you would take this on by your balls. But from what I'm hearing, you want out of this match because it contradicts your work. I get it, but at the same time Liam, this is a wrestling business, not police investigation work.”

It grinded Liam's gears to go against everything he does as a police officer and it's seriously conflicting his morals right now to do the match that he feels that should've been better for him that he wouldn't mind. He shakes his head, but Christian continues on.

Christian Underwood: “I'm not like asking you to attempt murder by throwing people overboard. We will have security in the water to get people like yourself and your opponents out of the water. It's not like there'll be nobody there to fetch them out the water. I'm sure the other officers will understand.”

Liam Davis: “Maybe, but I just didn't want to be a hypocrite.”

Christian Underwood: “I understand but you got to do the match and it's a wrestling match that you need to separate your police work. I appreciate you wanting to discuss this in a civil manner than an aggressive manner like many wrestlers do if things aren't going their way. You were a bit in the beginning, but it's because you didn't understand and now you do, I expect you to be there.”

Liam Davis: “I will.”

Of course that little debate is over as there were things that Christian was impressed by when it came to Liam. Sure he only had three matches in his career, but he did want to remind Liam of something that it was indeed questionable on why he was in the SCW Heavyweight title match this early.”

Christian Underwood: “I know you must be thinking, you never deserved the title shot you got against Kevin or even this one.”

Liam Davis: “I got to be honest, I wanted to test myself against Kevin first in a non title match, but you had it as a title match. Didn't understand that and I don't understand this one. I did admit I didn't deserve the Internet title shot.”

Christian Underwood: “Except for Aiden, Alex, more than other people can say. But the reason is because of your performance against Kevin and two, your performances against LJ Kasey and Justin Smith. The way you made these guys better than they are is incredible. Especially Justin Smith who people regard him as a joke.”

Liam Davis: “Fact is I know he's trying to help the roster be better wrestlers. He's losing for the sake of being kind and that deserves my respect. I respect LJ Kasey too because he's an incredible wrestler and when I fought him, I wondered why hasn't he won, let alone received a title shot yet? He has so much potential.”

That was on Liam's mind a lot since he fought him and he did have to ask because he saw so much ability in LJ Kasey and wouldn't mind facing him again. Christian answered him.

Christian Underwood: “He's had Internet title shot a while ago against when Carter had the title and he lost. We understand the talent he has and I agree, he deserves more opportunities. Saying that do you think it was wise of you to dig into Kevin's life like that?”

Liam Davis: “Yes because he does this shit with everyone else. Plus I'm a police officer, of course I'm going to know everything about Kevin's brother being in prison and speak out on it. Me knowing the information and not telling anyone would be stupid. He sure has no respect for anyone else. Degraded Miles and Carter's personal and family life, degraded Eddie Lyon's personal and family life. So you have to deal with the damage.”

Christian Underwood: “I get it, he did deserve that, but you need to control that part of you because it wasn't right personally and I'd be harder on others who did that, but you are a police officer after all and you're right, it did make sense and he did deserve what you done to him. But next time, keep it under control. I understand you finding out about people's family members being in prison or jail, but just keep in mind what I said.”

Liam Davis: “I hear you and I will dig more into Kevin's personal and family life again because of the way he treats everyone else. Same with Guy as well. But I keep it under control with everyone else. He deserved the treatment he got and I'm standing by that.”

They shook hands as Christian was going to attend to other things that were important of his time, even if it meant having a personal life outside of wrestling, which was something Liam didn't have and never wanted to have other than having a day out with the police officers which he will for one day have on occasions because they were his only relationships and will only be his only relationships. Christian left Liam's office for him to get some more work done and tackle many more crimes at his disposal.

Only that when he went back to work on the computer, another officer came in and it's one of his closest friends, as he was behind the reception when Christian walked in, Oliver came in and closed the door behind him and sat down.

Oliver: “What's that all about? The guy doesn't look like a criminal.”

Liam Davis: “No, Christian wasn't. It was about wrestling business I wanted to discuss because it was over the overboard rumble match I've been put in which I don't agree with with throwing my opponents over the top rope overboard to win.”

Oliver: “No, it is something to be really concerned about and I understand the morals stuff, but I can understand Christian not understanding that.”

Liam Davis: “He didn't at first, but he fully got it. But he was right about one thing, I need to separate my police work to being a wrestler in the ring. But I'm still maintaining that I'm a police officer with my clothes. That's it, I refuse to be someone else.”

Oliver: “I get it and I agree with Christian, you do need to remember when you throw someone overboard, it's only for part of the show. Anyway, got to go and I'll see you later.”

Oliver left Liam's office for Liam to finally get to work and planning things for the officers while he was away on shore which he did a leave of things for them to do from Sunday onwards as there was still a lot of things to manage, although he did get an invitation to invite one friend on the ship, but instead of selecting someone he knows as he wasn't risking his job to invite an officer he cares about and wanting them to do their job, he selected an officer he recognised without knowing Liam well and without working with the Davis family.

--------------------------------

Forced to do two pointless videos on opponents part 1 personal video diary.

“I'm literally forced to do a pointless video when I can easily cover everyone in a week. I'm not going to do video responses of people saying he said this, he said that. No because that's idiotic and boring. I don't give a rats ass what any of you say, not even what Kevin Carter said as I didn't even listen to his video. You see here, I'm smiling because I got under his skin that nobody has done, not just with the video I did, but also with my actions too. I almost had him a few times because I pissed him off so bad like he pisses everyone off that I almost got the win and won the Internet title. Anyway lets go down and talk about half of my opponents one week, the other half next Friday.

Lets start with an opponent I already know and could use things from him in the last video he did against me, Justin Smith. You see, I like you because you know that you work hard of instead of being selfish, you're extremely selfless to help out other people get better in the ring. I made you a star more than other wrestlers could have with you. But you need a lot more aggression of wanting a title shot if it means to get yourself there. I'm not going to call you  a joke like everyone else would as that doesn't help you, but you have to stop being selfless and be a lot more selfish in wanting to win the title, doing more than you usually do, especially with the SCW World Heavyweight title. We may have respected each other, but you aren't selfish enough to win this title contention shot. That's all I will say about you.

I heard all about you Logan that you won the title from Aiden who I will get into the next video I'll do with him. Beating Aiden for the Roulette title is impressive when nobody thought it would happen and you have worked hard to get the title so I get why you're mad, I really do as what Guy did was the most shadiest and stupidest thing I've ever seen in the wrestling business. It was bullshit to hand himself a title shot because he won king for the day. But how did you not figure that out it was Guy? The clues were there on the mystery man and king for the day. Even I knew it was guy just purely on that alone. Can't be very smart if you failed to match the dots. Everyone knew it was guy and he failed to hide that. It goes to show that Guy couldn't win a title by being a good wrestler. We also understand losing your rag after losing, but Aiden deserved a rematch with you before you defended it against Guy.

The thing is I lost to Kevin Carter and you don't see me moaning and bitching about it because there's no reason for me to when I came the closest to beat him, especially filling out details of him that nobody would've known about Kevin, unless you're working in the police force. Fact is I get why you're mad about Guy robbing you of that as he should've been able to earn it if he was that good of a wrestler. I think the King/Queen of the day rules should be that you do whatever you want, as long as it's not handing yourself a title shot situation. You need to be smarter and better Logan. Also lay off relying on your partner speaking for you. You either let her speak everything for you or you speak everything for yourself.

Then we come to the last guy on the list for this week that is, a guy who also gets trashed on as much as the other opponents do, Bill Barnhart. So you like to make up information about wrestlers sometimes do you? I admire that you want to develop young talent to get into the sport, more wrestlers should be doing this, but saying that, you've not won that many matches either. Parts of your videos of you are having fun. Sometimes officers tell me I should have fun, but I just can't, not when the situation makes for the title opportunity being on the line.

I'm not sure why like Logan that you have someone speaking for you sometimes on videos as well,, but at least unlike Logan, you can speak on your own at times. People also call you a joke an awful lot, but Justin Smith practically said he makes other wrestlers better, what's your purpose of being a wrestler here, Bill? It's almost as if Bill needs a new wife, although I think romance relationships are a waste of time and are bullshit.

You see, I don't need to do much research to find out about all of you, I don't need to do much research about what goals you want to do because as far as I see, you just don't have the spark like I do to take James or Carter down. I will be a lot more aggressive and admit that although I don't deserve the opportunity, I will take it by both hands and will do everything it takes to win. Even if it goes completely against my morals and my work duty to throw people overboard. Think I'd rather throw people into the pool.

But a match is a match I suppose that you got to deliver on. See I never used a low blow downstairs to try and get wins. I believe in myself each and every single day as you do as a professional wrestler because I'm still in my prime and can improve to the next level without them. I will end up walking away from this match as the winner as much as I'm completely against someone throwing them overboard. Still I have to do it and I have to stop the six of you from winning against me because I'm not letting some snotty ass kids win as I end up being the better wrestler than the three of you combined. Anyway, I'll talk about Aiden, Miles and Eddie.”

Preparing for the Trip
LJs Place
Las Vegas, Nevada

The last of Alexandra’s gear was packed, the suitcase zipped, and her boots resting on top like a final piece of armor. The soft hum of Las Vegas nightlife filtered through the window as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, mentally checking off everything for the trip. It was strange, in a way, how much calmer she felt this year compared to last. Experience had softened the edges of uncertainty. She knew what was waiting on that ship. The chaos. The fans. The long days and wild nights. But this time, she wasn’t walking into it with that same heavy weight on her chest. Across the room, LJ sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone absently before setting it down. His duffel bag sat mostly empty at his feet.

“Are you sure you’re packed enough?” she asked, glancing at the bare bag with a teasing smile.

He looked up and smirked. “I’m not the one stepping into the ring in the middle of the ocean. I figured out a few shirts, a pair of shorts, and one dress outfit in case they try to get fancy.”

“You’ll need more than that. It’s Summer XXXtreme. There's sun, saltwater, and the kind of mayhem that eats clean clothes alive.”

LJ chuckled and stood, walking over to her. “Yeah, but I’m not on the card. I’m not working. I’m just... yours this time. Bodyguard, emotional support, maybe a glorified luggage handler.”

Alexandra’s smile faded into something warmer, softer. “You’re more than that. Just having you there makes everything feel more grounded.”

He shrugged, but the faint pink in his cheeks gave away how much that meant to him. “Still feels weird, though. Not being booked. Not being part of the show. I’ve spent so much time fighting for a spot that stepping away, even for a week, messes with my head.”

She nodded in understanding. “It messed with mine last year. I wasn’t sure I even belonged on that cruise. I kept second-guessing everything, Ashlynn, the matches, the fans, being out at sea with no safety net. But it ended up being one of the best things for me. Because I stopped trying to be perfect and just... showed up. Did my thing. And people noticed.”

“You got everyone talking,” he said. “And now they’re expecting you to outdo yourself.”

“I’m not worried about that,” she said, stepping closer and slipping her arms around his waist. “What I care about is being focused, being me. And this year, I get to have my partner there. Not as a tag team, not as an act, just as someone who has my back.”

LJ rested his chin on top of her head. “Always. Even if I’m the guy in the crowd with the overpriced drink yelling too loud.”

She laughed against his chest. “You’d be the best part of the crowd.”

For a few moments, they stood there in silence, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between them. This trip wasn’t just about the cruise or the matches—it was about taking a step forward, together. With Ashlynn staying with Cassandra and Dhillon for the week, there was finally room for Alexandra and LJ to breathe as a couple.

“I think I needed this more than I realized,” she said quietly.

“The cruise?”

“No,” she replied, lifting her eyes to meet his. “This time. With you. Without everything pulling us in five different directions. I’ve been going non-stop for so long, I forgot what it feels like to just be with someone.”

“You haven’t really let yourself slow down,” LJ agreed. “Even when we first got together, you were still wearing your armor.”

“I had to,” she said, her voice soft. “For Ashlynn. For survival. For my own sanity. But I’m tired of carrying that weight all the time.”

He nodded. “Then don’t. Let me carry some of it with you.”

Her eyes glistened for just a second before she looked away, blinking it back. “You say things like that and I remember why I let you in.”

“I didn’t knock gently,” he said with a small grin.

“No, you didn’t. You walked in like you belonged here. And maybe, you do.”

They sat on the bed, her hand resting over his. The bags were packed, the plans set. Tomorrow, they’d board the ship. Alexandra would step back into the spotlight, the ring, the madness of a wrestling cruise. And LJ would be right there, not as a wrestler, not as her man in the corner while she was in a match, but as her anchor.

“You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her sideways.

“Not about the match,” she said. “That’s the easy part. It’s the stuff between the matches that gets tricky.”

“Like what?”

“Like trying to remember who I am when I’m not being the performer. Like making space for us in a world that doesn’t stop moving. Last year, I felt like I was surviving. This year, I want to live in it.”

LJ leaned back on his elbows. “So we do that. You work. I support you. We steal moments in between. Breakfast on the balcony. Watching the sunset. Making fun of people in the pool.”

Alexandra laughed again, brighter this time. “God, that sounds perfect.”

“It will be,” he said. “You fight. I’ll be there. And when the lights go out, it’s just you and me. That’s what I’m looking forward to most.”

She turned, curling into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“When we get back, when the cruise is over, and real life crashes back in, don’t let me shut down again. Remind me of this. What it feels like to let someone stay.”

He kissed her forehead gently. “I’ll remind you every damn day if I have to.”

The air between them settled into something steady, calm. Tomorrow would bring the roar of the ocean and the madness of fans. Alexandra would face whatever challenge the cruise had in store. But tonight, she had something far more powerful than momentum, she had LJ. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t walking in Summer XXXtreme alone.

---

Let’s Talky Talk
The Strip
Las Vegas, NV

The camera opened on the glimmering chaos of the Las Vegas Strip. Neon signs buzzed above packed sidewalks. Tourists shouted, music blared from open doors, and slot machines chirped from every direction. In the middle of it all, walking with slow, measured steps through the chaos, was Alexandra. She was dressed in a sharp leather jacket, sunglasses covering eyes that burned with purpose, her boots striking the pavement with deliberate weight.

She didn’t glance at the noise or the spectacle. All of it faded behind her focus. The camera followed as she walked past the Bellagio fountains, the spray catching the city lights in bursts of color. She finally came to a stop beneath the glowing canopy of the Flamingo, turned to face the camera, and pulled off her sunglasses.

Her eyes locked onto the lens, cold, sharp, and surgical.

"Let’s talk," she said, voice low but firm enough to cut through the roar of the Strip.

Amelia: "The Unknown Equation"

Alexandra tilted her head, a small smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. "Amelia. The one I haven’t touched yet. The enigma. The one the fans like to call a mystery. You know what mysteries are to me? Just problems waiting to be solved."

She took a few steps down the sidewalk, weaving between a group of partygoers without breaking her stride. "We’ve never faced each other, and I know that’s been eating away at you. They’ve been protecting you. They’ve been crafting your journey like it’s a fairy tale. But here’s the thing, sweetheart, fairy tales end in horror when reality hits. And I am that reality."

She stopped again, just in front of a luxury store, her reflection staring back from the glass. "You’ve never had to bleed for your momentum, Amelia. You’ve never felt what it’s like to be broken in front of a crowd that expected more from you. You dance, you fly, you smile—and they eat it up like it’s gourmet. But when you step into the ring with me, none of that’s going to save you."

Alexandra leaned closer to the glass, staring into her own eyes before looking back at the camera. "You’re fast, you’re clean, you’ve got technique. But I’ve made careers end for less. What you’ve built for yourself—your potential, your precious image—I’m going to drag it all into the street like garbage and show the world what happens when smoke and mirrors meet substance."

The Strip pulsed behind her, but her tone never wavered. "So go ahead, Amelia. Be their rising star. Be their future. Because when the time comes, I’ll be the one who introduces you to your ceiling. And I promise, it’s going to hurt."

Joanne: "The Broken Record"

Alexandra turned a corner, walking past Caesar’s Palace, the grandeur behind her a stark contrast to the venom in her voice. "Joanne. Poor, stubborn, beautifully deluded Joanne. We’ve been here before, haven’t we? And every single time, I’ve beaten you into the floor like it’s tradition."

She rolled her shoulders, brushing past a performer on stilts without a second glance. "What amazes me isn’t that you lost. It’s that you keep coming back like something’s going to change. Like this time, things will be different. Like you’ve somehow evolved past the woman I already exposed."

She scoffed, glancing sideways as if picturing Joanne’s face. "You’re not evolving, Joanne. You’re decorating failure. You put up a fresh coat of paint every time I destroy you and try to convince yourself the cracks aren’t there. But I see them. Every twitch in your eye when my name is brought up. Every forced breath you take when they ask about your losses to me. You’re not fighting to win. You’re fighting to survive. And I’ve got bad news, survival isn’t enough anymore."

Alexandra stopped beneath a massive LED billboard flashing championship belts and highlight reels. She didn’t even look up. "I don’t hate you, Joanne. You’re not worth that. What I feel is pity. Because no matter how many times you crawl back into that ring, hoping this time you’ll rise. I’ll be there to remind you that some stories end the same way, every time."

She looked into the camera with icy finality. "And your story? It ends with me."

Andrea: "The Thorn in My Side"

Now Alexandra’s walk had slowed. Her pace was deliberate. There was weight behind her steps as she passed the Mirage. The lights flickered above her, like sparks trying to find fuel. "Andrea," she said, the name alone carrying tension. "You’re the one that stays with me. The one who got through."

She stopped, folding her arms. The tension in her jaw said everything. "You’ve beaten me. Not often. But enough. Enough to leave a scar. And that’s why I don’t take you lightly. I don’t dismiss you. I respect you, but that respect comes with a price. Because every single time I’ve tasted defeat by your hand, I’ve carved a new weapon out of it. I’ve built new armor. You sharpened me without realizing it."

She stepped off the main sidewalk and onto a quieter stretch of pavement, where the Strip’s noise dulled just slightly. Her voice dropped. "But here’s where we differ, Andrea. You were satisfied with the win. You wanted the moment. I wanted domination. You got the applause. I want the silence that comes after I leave my opponent broken."

Alexandra turned her head slightly, her profile lit by the passing glow of LED lights. "You’re dangerous. But now I’m smarter. Meaner. Colder. You won’t find the same Alexandra you beat before. She’s dead. I buried her myself."

She looked back into the camera, the storm behind her eyes ready to break. "And when we meet again, Andrea... I’m not walking away with a win. I’m walking away with you. Shattered. Humbled. And finally... beneath me."

Kate: "The Identity Crisis"

Further down the Strip, Alexandra came to a halt near a street performer dressed like a living statue. She stared at it for a moment, blank, unmoving, artificial. Then turned back to the camera.

"Kate. You know, I’ve faced chaos, I’ve faced strategy, I’ve faced rage—but you? You’re not even a finished thought. You’re half of a character sketch, barely colored in, and every week you show up with a new coat of confusion like that’s going to make you interesting."

She stepped forward, slicing through the crowd with presence alone. "You think being mysterious is the same as being compelling. It’s not. It’s exhausting. No one knows who you are not even you. You spend more time reinventing your image than refining your craft. And while you're out there figuring yourself out, I’m going to crack your ribs one by one."

The sign for The LINQ blinked erratically behind her. "You're a walking question mark hoping the world doesn’t notice you’ve got no answer. But I noticed. I see the cracks. I see the fear. You’re not dangerous. You’re desperate. Desperate to matter. Desperate to be something other than a filler name on someone else’s win column."

She looked into the camera again, deadly calm. "You’re not a mystery, Kate. You’re a delay. A pause before something real. And I’m going to press play... and erase you."

Diamond: "The Forgotten Victory"

Alexandra now neared the end of the Strip, where the lights grew thinner and the tourists scarcer. She paused at the base of a blinking casino marquee, her silhouette sharp against the fading neon.

"Diamond. Ah, Diamond... the one I’ve already beaten. And yet, here we are again. Trying to shine like you weren’t already dulled. You want another shot? Fine. I’ll remind you what it felt like when I shattered your illusion the first time."

She brushed her hair back, the Vegas wind teasing it loose. "They say diamonds are forever. But you? You cracked. Under pressure, under fists, under me. You fought like you were precious. But I saw through the sparkle. I saw the fracture. You’re costume jewelry, Diamond. All flash, no foundation."

Alexandra began walking again, slower now, like delivering the final eulogy. "There’s no revenge story here. No grand comeback. You can train all you want, bleed all you need to, but when you step into that ring again, nothing will have changed. I’ll put you back in your place like muscle memory."

She stopped, turning toward the camera one last time. "So bring your shine. Bring the defiance. Bring the hope. I’ll crush it again. Not because I need to, but because I can."

She slipped her sunglasses back on, the city lights gleaming in the lenses.

"Vegas is all illusions. But I’m the only truth walking this Strip. Remember that."

With that, Alexandra turned and disappeared into the crowd.

I really didn’t want to think about SCW at one point.

It wasn’t long ago I was in my backyard, alone: ignoring texts and calls from people wanting to check up on me, not enjoying anything positive, including the fact that I recently won a 5th world title outside of SCW. I could only think about that last match.

I really didn’t want to tell anyone it was destroying me on the inside.


“Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse…”

The shame inside of me was spreading like a virus. That feeling of my heart and soul being sucked out of me after Summer Xtreme five years ago was a feeling that I was hoping to never feel again.

But there I was, just in a numb silence, the unthinkable thought that I was able to push off for months but now I couldn’t…

“Summer of Hell 2.0…”

To say that I was in a panic wondering what I had to do to avoid that was an understatement and yet, in that moment of weakness where I was praying to my father, or someone in heaven, or anything spiritual that may exist, I got an answer…

…from the worst source imaginable.

“Give it up, Andrea…” I could hear the doubt from the demon of insecurity that finally resurfaced for the first time in years.  “...it’s time to admit that this ‘redemption’ you’ve been doing has failed…”

“Shut up…” I said to that demon inside of my own mind.

“When are you going to admit that you’re never going to have what you want from SCW? Why do you have to be stupid to think that things were ever going to be different when things are going to end up exactly the same? Face it. You’re on the bridge to nowhere. You’ve already given in to the same shit you gave into 5 years ago so you might as well give in and let me out…”

“...I can’t do that to myself or to the people that care about me again…” I said, weakly resisting.

“If you’re not going to let me take over, then leave…” the demon inside of me retorted. “...you did it before. You’d never have to worry about SCW and all its stresses ever again…”

“You’re right… I wouldn’t…”

“Now you’re listening. You’re too stubborn to leave and in that case, there’s only one thing to do. Let me out, Andrea.”

The tears were falling down my face. There was a majority piece of me that had already thrown in the towel. I knew I had too much pride to just walk away and “prove everyone else right”. But after what just happened, I didn’t feel like I could go back and face the music. It felt like the only option that I had was to let the darkness within me win out and just embrace the same old movie all over again.

“LET ME OUT!!!! You know you can’t change the narrative. You know you’ll always be a pariah and you’ll never be respected. You know the slander is never going to stop and you’re never going to get anyone else to see you as you want to be seen…”

Being so shot and broken as I was, what was the use of resisting anymore? The demon in me was by no means lying and I always knew what it just said as fact even though for months I had been denying it to myself.

“Don’t you remember the cruise? Five years ago?” the demon inside me reminded me. That’s where you bottomed out. You might as well let it happen on that cruise again. If you continue to resist me, everything’s going to get worse and you’ll be seen as a joke… just like Crystal Hilton…”

“...that’s where you’re wrong…” I meekly resisted as the tears continued to flow. I was feeling myself about to break into a complete anxiety attack and it was clear that I was triggered back into the same brutal trauma I suffered through five years ago.

“Stop trying to justify your failure! When I was in control, you were the most dominant you’ve ever been in SCW…”

“I NEVER won a world title there when I was the most hated bitch in the company…”

“But you weren’t suffering so much and having your passion sucked out of you, am I right?”

“Leave me alone… just leave me alone…”

“Not until you let me out or get the fuck out…”

My internal conflict was interrupted by my phone ringing very loud. I saw it was a text from Myra with an “urgency” mark on it. I figured it was an emergency so I read it.

“MIAMI! MY SCHOOL! ASAP!” she wrote in all caps. I knew this side of Myra when she was very pissed off and suddenly, I had a completely different reason to have an anxiety attach. “I am SO PISSED at you and tbh, been disappointed in you for MONTHS! Get your ass here. NOW!”

I exhaled feeling relief, yet worry knowing I had angered Myra somehow. For now, the demon within me had left me alone. However, Myra Rivers, for all that she can do to help, is a completely different monster when she’s pissed off at you…

Two days later…

Normally, I’d look forward to going to South Beach but…

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Myra asked me the moment she saw me. “Fortunately, I did this on a day where I know my students aren’t here but… are you fucking kidding me?”

“Fuck her…” I can already hear my inner darkness saying.

“Don’t say a FUCKING WORD, Andrea…” Myra added while my anxiety was increasing with her anger. “I know exactly what the fuck is wrong with you. A match like that, you don’t throw away… unless you’re allowing something so fucking stupid and irrelevant eat at you which you have been for months now. Even subconsciously, all you can think about is how you don’t want everything to play out the same and yet you’re literally manifesting it…”

“Oh FUCK OFF…” I thought to myself. My eyes widened not because of what Myra was saying, but because that was a moment where the darkness in me and I merged.

“...in fact, the moment the Chamber was even announced, you gave up!”

Anger was building in me even further.

“Don’t let her talk to you this way…” that darkness told me. “Who is she to say a fucking thing about your SCW career?”

“You decided you were going to just lie down and quit before the match even happened and then you spiraled further afterward. Your passion DIED in that chamber, Andrea…”

“Hit her where it hurts, Andrea. You know you want to. You know that there’s a piece of you that could never stand her anyway…”

“You’ve done nothing but coast ever since, sticking with the same platitudes and playing it way too fucking safe… when you actually TRY! You weren’t even TRYING in that match and now you’re over there giving me that stupid pity face and dealing with being torn up inside over YOUR OWN FUCKING FAULT!”

I was biting the inside of my lower lip with rage as she continued.

“You need to wake the fuck up and stop holding yourself back because what I saw in that last match was someone that didn’t even want to be there all because you’re rising to the same shit that plunged you into the darkness five years ago. What do you have to say for yourself, embarrassing yourself like that?”

I didn’t have an immediate answer being so torn in my internal conflict. Myra just scoffs, showing how annoyed she was with me.

“Typical. You’ve never been able to handle criticism well, justified in this case or bullshit like all the shit you deal with. This is why I didn’t want you to go back to SCW because I KNEW this was going to happen…”

That did it for me.

“You quit SCW! Why the FUCK do you have a right to say anything, you self-righteous BITCH?”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“Get her…” that darkness told me. “GET HER!”

“YOU, Myra are the LAST person that should be talking about ANYONE giving up especially as far as SCW is concerned because that’s what YOU did three years ago, REMEMBER?”

“Oh no, you are NOT deflecting this back at me! You don’t get to throw that shit back at me just because you want to run away from your fucking problems.”

I merely scoff at this without so much batting an eye and I can see it was Myra’s eyes widening, almost as if she was realizing what side of me she was dealing with.

“Running away from my problems… says the weakling that had to QUIT because she kept letting down her daughter…”

“THERE YOU GO… FUCK HER!!!!” that darkness blurted out while Myra was seething with some deep-seated anger. 

“Andrea…” Myra let out a deep breath doing everything in her power to avoid tapping into HER demons. “...you need to wake the fuck up or get the fuck out because that performance was pathetic of you and you deserve BETTER than to sleepwalk through a match just because you’re in your feelings about what other people think of you.”

“Whatever…”

“Get the fuck out of my sight, Andrea…”

Myra walked away from me and I didn’t even bother saying a word to her.

“Remember…” my inner darkness began to remind me. “...you were far more dominant without HER holding you back…”

Internally, however, I was instantly feeling awful about the way I just treated her to the point where tears were forming in my eyes.

“Fuck her… you don’t need her. You need ME… let me out. It’s the only way!”

I wanted to catch up to her and apologize, but I knew the damage was done already. I walked out of her school feeling more defeated than ever…

Last Sunday…

I was packing up for the cruise even though I knew I didn’t even want to go. That familiar dread was filling me as I NEVER liked going on it nor did I like the Summer XXXtreme event itself. I had just about finished packing the last bag that I had while I was drowning in the guilt that I had over how I treated Myra and the feeling of worthlessness and completely undeserving of the match that I was to partake in on the cruise. I took a few deep breaths trying to keep that internal demon from saying anything to me because after that fight with Myra, I had already had enough.

“Andrea?” I heard the familiar voice of my mother. I looked at her and I could see she had something in her purse, though I didn’t pay it any mind aside from that.

“Look… Mom… this really isn’t the time to talk to me.”

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been struggling and the way your body language and happiness falls off a cliff whenever you either mention SCW or have to go to one of their events…”

“Mom…” I briefly paused to let out a sigh. “I’ve already gotten the ‘get out there’ speech from Myra and I KNOW you hate that company even worse than she does.”

“I wasn’t going there, actually…”

I widened my eyes with surprise.

“It would be in your worst interest to leave because then you wouldn’t live with yourself and it’d affect you for the rest of your career and they’re not worth that. I know that you dread the cruise and you have nothing but bad memories but you’re not going to let those memories nor are you going to let those people win…”

“Mom…” I said with a very audible groan. “...I appreciate that you’re TRYING to help and that you’re rising above that ‘leave’ nonsense, but considering how distant you’ve been from this whole thing on your own volition, I’m not sure how you can help me.”

“I beg to differ, Andrea. The cruise has bad memories for you all because of one experience you had five years ago. Nothing bad has happened to you since then, but every year you always dread it and I know for you, that dread is even higher this year because of what you’ve been going through for months. You can fight through this, just like you did five years ago.”

“I’m not sure if I can….” I admitted. “Myra and I got into this huge fight the other day and one of the first, and worst, symptoms of me plunging back into the darkness I was in before is her and I being at odds, which we are right now.”

“It’s a symptom of the fact that you’ve given up…” my mother says with a concerned look on her face. “You gave up after High Stakes, didn’t you?”

My eyes widened with surprise when I realized how perceptive she was.

“That’s where it started, but winning the title and then being thrown into a chamber is where it really got bad for me. I gave up before the bell rang on that one and it’s been downhill since. Now? I just want to leave again and never go back because I could care less about what my ‘legacy’ is in that company. It’s never going to be positive anyway…”

“Running away won’t solve anything, but not caring about your legacy is a good start because it stops you from caring too much about what other people think. Take this with you…”

My mother pulls out a notebook and hands it to me.

“Your father wrote something in there for you five years ago after you lost the title and he wanted me to give that to you.”

“Why didn’t you give it to me then?”

My mother sighs with some regret.

“He died right after he wrote that and in all the grief, I completely forgot about it until I found it the other day doing some attic digging…”

I glanced at the notebook with a numb surprise going through me.

“Knowing what he wrote, it’ll be the best thing for you. Don’t read it until you’re on the cruise but until then? Stay strong, alright?”

“Yeah… thanks…”

My mother briefly embraces me before she walks out the door. Unfortunately, as I looked at the notebook, that internal demon spring into action again.

“You’re always going to be a letdown to DADDY! You KNOW how to make all the pain and suffering go away.”

Suddenly, the room got REALLY cold. I thought I was about to have a huge panic attack, but I heard another voice in the room.

“Don’t listen to that, Andrea… whatever you do… don’t listen…”

“Dad? Is that you?” I asked out loud. “I won’t listen to that darkness. I have to read what you have to say first…”

Suddenly, the room got warmer and brighter and that tension (and darkness in me) was gone.

And for the first time in months, I had hope…

July 12

I hadn’t signaled for the camera to come on yet. I was sitting on the edge of my hotel room bed mulling things over and thinking about the notebook that was in front of me. On one hand, I wanted to open it and read it right then and there with the camera on. It felt like maybe it could give me the boost that I needed.

However, there was a pit in my stomach that knew that doing so would open the door for my opponents, upcoming and in the future, to pick at and the last thing that I wanted to do was to even give anyone the power to pick at the relationship with my father. I signaled for my cameraman to come get the notebook. He came to grab it and set it down on the drawer behind him.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a bit searching for any hint of that “demon” inside of me that was pushing me to give up and give in. My shoulders felt light. That’s when I knew I didn’t have to worry about it and that I could express my thoughts. Difficult as it was considering recent events, I signaled to the cameraman to turn it on and with that, I really knew I had to choose my own words carefully not because I wanted to avoid giving my opponents “red meat”, but because I had to focus on getting the right message cross for me and nobody else.

“Elephants in the room aren’t fun to address. So, let’s address the most recent one and work backwards. The last match I had? I blew it. Did I give it my best effort? Absolutely not. Hell, I didn’t even want to be there. Truth be told, I HAVEN’T wanted to be there for a while. When I was in the ring for that triple threat match, I was so out of it that I literally had this feeling of ‘I don’t care anymore’ and to those friends, family and fans that were expecting the very best out of me, not only did you not come anywhere close to getting that, but you haven’t gotten that for months. For those that look up to me, for those that depend on me for any reason, for those that have done everything in their power to help me do whatever it takes to be at my best for any given match, I sincerely apologize for phoning it in as I have for a while because… well…

There’s no excuse for it. I can deep dive into so many reasons, but there’s no excuse for it. That triple threat match, I dogged it all because I was all up in my feelings about this place, the people in it, what people were saying about me, angry at the world, angry at this person for treating me like I wasn’t shit all because they only bothered to go off of an inaccurate card description, angry at that person for basically burying me even though I did nothing to them because they were up in their feelings themselves over “slights” that were just them taking any little fucking thing personal even when 99 percent of it had nothing to do with them, angry at the events of 5 years ago that I suffered through, angry because of how hard I was pushing to be better than that time period of my life only for others to shit on it and say ‘oh you’re still the same’, angry at this person for calling my title win a Cinderella run, angry at that person for calling me a paper champion on social media, anger, anger, nothing but anger and it was slowly driving me into the dirt without me realizing it until it was too late.

Something that I was taught by my mother once was ‘be the light you wish to shine’. With everything that I’ve mentioned just now, I’ve been anything but that and all I’ve done is rise to it and feed into it when on MANY occasions that I’ve been in this company over the years, I’ve proven that I’m above all that. I will be the first to admit that I haven’t done the best job at rising against adversity ever since High Stakes aside from the time that I was able to beat Kayla Richards for the world championship and I KNOW that’s largely because of my own doing so after everything that’s been going on? I’m going to straight up fucking say this.

I WILL be that light. I WILL be DONE with the nonsense. I’m not rising to the bullshit again. I don’t care what odds are against me in this match. I don’t care WHO I am facing. Hell, if you’re listening to this waiting for when your name is mentioned so that you can talk your trash and start doing the same old fucking shit that everyone else does, stop wasting your time and exit out of this video because I am NOT going to rise to that crap and I am NOT going to bore our audience by doing your typical “list off everyone and say why they won’t win”. Not only is that cliche, but it’s also a pointless exercise because in a match like this, why the fuck do you want to focus on so many other people when the truth of the matter is, priority number one should ALWAYS be YOU and ONLY you and how YOU’RE going to handle this match and how YOU are going to live, learn and grow from any recent adversity that you’ve dealt with. I’m not going to do that. I get that the odds are going to be long as it is based on the numbers alone, but to waste time worrying and focusing on other people that I know are going to come at me with the same old shit that I’ve heard millions of times before or pick at my last match exaggerating it the way everyone else in this fucking locker room fucking exaggerates every little fucking thing…”

I knew that I was starting to get heated with the increased profanity. With that, I took a deep breath being determined as hell NOT to let that demon inside of me come out again. I briefly remembered how it suddenly came out of me going into a match with Kiera Fisher nearly five years ago and it took me two years to seal that demon away.

“Focus girl… focus…” I told myself in my own mind. “Don’t let these bitches get to you. They’re not worth it. They never were.”

I took another deep breath before I continued.

“Priority number one is going to be me. Take it how you see it. I don’t give a fuck anymore. I am DONE allowing other people to define me.  That was the last time I am going to allow myself to fail in such a bullshit fashion. From now on, I am no longer going to rise to the bullshit so say what you want to say about me because not only do I KNOW in my heart that you’re wrong and that you’ll never define me but… spoiler alert… I’m not even going to bother watching what you all have to say about me. Yes, I KNOW, I’m breaking like an unwritten rule of this business. GASP! BLASPHEMY! How DARE she?!?! Actually, if I’m breaking anything, it’s a mold that everyone cow tows to just because it’s “supposed to be the way”. But ultimately? I’m not going to listen or watch anything any of my opponents have to say about me and I am damn sure not going to respond to any of it because I am NOT going to allow ONE person in this match to define my feelings or to define my truth. I am not going to allow myself to get worked up over some bullshit that someone else said because something that I have really wised up to is the fact that whatever you do, it doesn’t matter. Whoever you are, doesn’t matter. Someone, somewhere is always going to grasp at straws and pick at anything to tear you down because they have a vapid imagination to even do anything differently.

I am going to focus on winning this match and nothing else because at the end of the day, when it comes to my story in this business and my story in this company, it’s ME! It’s nobody else but me! Hell, I’ll be the first person to admit that I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to my success here and the truth of the matter is, and I KNOW most of you if not all of you are going to HATE what I’m about to say: not ONE of you is my greatest enemy or my greatest opponent in this match… it’s ME! I own the fact that in order to win this match, I WILL have to overcome my worst, deepest insecurities within myself and to snap back into that fire that I’m known for KNOWING that when I do, it STILL won’t guarantee that I win this thing. Trust me, I know that some people are going to come at me harder in that ring than others due to history or whatnot, but ultimately, not one of you is going to be able to cripple me. The only one in that ring that can cripple me is… me… which is exactly what I did the last match I had and I’m NOT going to do it again and I’m NOT going to do it anymore. Not ONE of you is going to put me through hell because five years ago, I endured, I overcame, and I defeated the worst hell I’ve ever been through in my career if not my entire life. Am I proud of how I did that? No, but I still overcame all that  and compared to what I wen through five years ago, this doesn’t even come CLOSE to being that.

So by all means, whisper and gossip and lie and misinterpret and make yourself look like a damn fool. When I win this match, you’ll only have yourselves to blame because I WILL NOT make this about proving other people wrong. I don’t NEED to prove anything to fucking anybody but ME! I will NOT make this match about silencing critics, or other people, or anyone else because I will NOT be granting people that aren’t worth my feelings that kind of power over me anymore! That’s why with every last one of you in this match, I’m not addressing you one by one or doing what I would typically do and pick point a weakness or a recent match that you had or some piddly little thing that I can pull out of thin air as “proof” as to why you’re not going to beat me or why you’re not better than me. Honestly? It’s a tired exercise and people as a whole need to think outside the box when it comes to that. Rather than focus on the perceived weaknesses of everyone else, I will focus on my own weaknesses, I will working on strengthening myself to overcome those weaknesses and I will focus on my own strengths, on my own abilities and what I am truly capable of once I overcome this career long, if not life long, mental block in me that holds me back over and over and over again. I’ve reached a point where I’m fed up with that. I’m 31 now. I’m old enough and beyond experienced enough to finally break free from all of it and that’s what I am going to do by the time this match hits no matter how hard that is and how hard it may become over the next week. What just happened to me is where I draw the line. I’ll do whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, to break free from those last mental chains that have been so damn stubborn for years and I am going to find a way to win this.

Five years ago, I allowed losing the SCW Bombshells World Championship to someone I SHOULD’VE beaten… but I didn’t because I got in my own fucking way… to define me and it broke me to the point where I became someone that wasn’t me at all and never should’ve been in the first place. I should’ve known better than to make such a garbage, stupid mistake like that. Now? I’m NOT going to make that same mistake again, not anymore. It’s high time I started to stand up for myself, to strengthen myself, to do whatever it takes to ensure that I never allow one fucking person to define me again and while this may be overdue for a wrestler of my caliber, I will own that to kingdom come and back, it’s better late than never and no matter how this match goes for me, I’m not going to fade into the night and I am not going to allow a single loss, a single ounce of adversity or anything like that to turn into an embarrassment that defines me in the long run. This is where the slate is wiped clean, where I learn every single piece about who the fuck I am and I made damn sure that I become the light within myself that I’ve starved to have for many, many years. No more being conservative. No more holding back. No more weighing myself down. Never again. This is where I take that stand and this match, win or lose? It’s going to mark a turning point for me for the very long term and for a very long time to come…”

I signaled for my cameraman to cut and he gave me the thumbs up ensuring me that the camera was just shut off.

“I haven’t seen or heard that kind of fire out of you in months…” he said as he handed me the notebook.

“That was just the start…” I said as I glanced at my father’s notebook and started to think about how I was going to conquer my inner demons and worst insecurities. “...just… the start…”

I took a deep breath to come down from that fiery speech I just made before I made my exit from the hotel room.