[Fenris]

Las Vegas, Nevada -
Go Gym

Gabriel hadn’t intended for the gym to be open on this day. Even the man who, alongside his wife Odette, had become known as a “maker of champions,” needed a day off once in a while to spend with family and friends rather than run the risk of becoming a workaholic. But the man was immensely proud of the men and women whom he called their students, each and every one from past to present, and when one was in need or felt a strong desire to burn off some energy at the weights or inside of the ring, he had little desire to refuse them. Before the ravages of the Covid-19 pandemic, the famed Go Gym was open pretty much each and every day, all the better to prepare their students for the rigors of the sport. In fact, training every day was almost a mandatory requirement. But since the world has changed around them, the Stevens had little alternative but to change their practices along with it. They still mandated rigorous training on scheduled days, but extended the training hours so that they still got in time needed but also gave the men and women they were responsible for time off so their bodies and minds could rest and recover.They had no desire to push their students so far as to near a breaking point.

They simply wanted them to succeed.

And one such student who seemingly did not know the meaning of the words “day off” was the man who was currently inside of one of the two rings the GO Gym housed; Fenris. Fenris, Gabriel acknowledged, had fast become something of a masochist when it came to putting himself through intensive training at his own expense. Aron told him that every morning, rain or shine, hung over or well rested, Fenris would drag his ass, and that of his brother, out of bed just as the sun was rising for a morning run of four to six miles at the nearest park, usually the Charlie Frias Park,  or even down the Vegas Strip. Sometimes, to add to the “misery,” Fenris would even show up at the doors of friends such as Dani Weston or Bobbie Dahl and drag them along, their lack of desire being completely alien and thus, lost to him. And after returning home, showering and changing, that was when he would always head for the Go Gym training facility to ensure everything he knew remained sharp. Each time, he pushed himself almost well beyond his limits before he called it a day, sometimes at Gabriel’s insistence, sometimes at Aron’s, and most rarely, at his own. Only for Gabriel to find the man entering the gym the very next morning, ready to begin the process all over again.

This time, however, Gabriel ran into a bit of difficulty in finding a sparring partner for the man at such late notice. Fenris was there every day like clockwork, working out but this time, for this match in particular, he did not seem overly concerned nor focused. Part of Gabriel’s mindset showed concern for this because it was entirely unlike Fenris, or what he had taught the man. Gabriel and Odette both had drilled into each and every student to never - ever - take any opponent lightly or for granted. One wrong move and an upset could happen, and it would be the opponent’s arm, not yours, that would be raised in victory. Of course, on the other hand, Gabriel also understood why Fenris almost seemed to not give a damn. We were talking about Brayden Hilton, after all. Thus far all he had shown was a man that was all hype, all name, but little substance. Relying on foul tactics and his family name to get by rather than anything even remotely resembling athletic talent.

Ordinarily Gabriel would have foregone any further attempt to do so and step inside of the ring himself, but the fact that his wife Odette had dropped their son Lucas off while she and their daughter went into town. Lucas had wanted to hang out with dad at the gym rather than run errands, so Gabriel had a young one to keep a watchful eye on rather than step inside of the ring for a training session with one of his prize students. And of course, Lucas had also offered to help in this regard, but one quick ‘tickle session’ courtesy of the White Wolf and a giggling Lucas quickly cried “uncle.’


Earlier that day…

The eight year old Lucas stood in the ring with the brightest smile on his youthful face, dressed in his favorite Animaniacs t shirt and shorts. But this was not the first time that this brave young warrior had set foot inside of the six-sided ring. Only a few years ago, he stood inside this very same ring set to “challenge” the then-World Champion Fenris for his prestigious title. Under dire threat of bodily harm from Odette if he hurt her baby boy, Fenris took the utmost care of Lucas. Not because of the threat but because, as much of a temper as he wielded and as vile a temperament as he possessed, Gabriel and Odette’s son was probably the only child that could bring down the self-imposed walls that Fenris had erected around himself. Kids were his one true Achilles heel, but not so much where this one was concerned.

And just like three years before, Fenris stood opposite of him, across the ring in his wrestling gear. But unlike then, this time Fenris had indeed shed those walls and was ‘hamming it up,’ eyes wide and beckoning the child to come on. With a smile on his face, Gabriel had rang the timekeeper’s bell on the ring apron and watched as Lucas cried out in his own ‘savage’ glee and charged right into Fenris’s arms. And to his credit, the big lug played right along, falling to his back and allowing the boy the upper hand - briefly. Soon enough Fenris had Lucas down and just like before, quickly found the ticklish spots under his arms and the child was soon laughing uncontrollably, kicking his legs until ultimately, Fenris got him to say “uncle.” But even then Lucas was not finished with his “opponent,” as the moment Fenris released him to stand up, Lucas had him in a playful side headlock. All the while Gabriel watched with the brightest of smiles, laughing to himself.


Finally, Gabriel had some success in finding a training partner for Fenris by sheer luck. One of those random students you hear mention from Krystal Wolfe on social media, a young Josh Sobeck just so happened to arrive at the Gym on something of a whim, to see if it was open and he could sneak in a brief workout. No sooner did he step through the doors than all heads turned, and his life flashed before his eyes.

Wrong time, wrong place, as they say.

A startled yelp of surprise rang throughout the Gym as Fenris hauled Josh up to his feet, twisted his arm into an extended arm lock and threw him over to the mat in a Judo toss! Josh’s body landed on the padded canvas of the ring, but with enough impact it shook the ring and his body literally bounced up not once but twice. Yet if he thought that would be the end of this session which had already gone on ten minutes too long for his own liking, it did not stop there. Fenris pulled him back up to his feet and repeated the process; an arm twisted into a Judo throw. Wash, rinse and repeat a total of three times. By the third time his body had hit the canvas, poor Josh had the wind driven completely from his body and all the flips resulted in him not knowing which way was up! Fenris had hold of his wrist and held him at arm’s length, walking around him in a full circle until he ducked behind him and wrapped an arm around his chin while retaining the arm lock, and pulled him down to the canvas in a full on body scissors; trapping Josh in an Asuka lock! Perhaps the favorite of submission holds in Fenris’s arsenal, it took no time at all for Josh to “tap out,” thus ending the sparring match.

“Yayyy!” Lucas called out from across the gym where he sat on a bench, gleefully happy at Fenris ‘winning.’ The boy leapt to his feet and clapped his hands together, obviously pleased as Gabriel helped guide a shaken Josh from the ring and directed him elsewhere.

“Go.” Gabriel chuckled, feeling somewhat guilty for the poor guy again, ending up on the wrong side of a session with his own personal nightmare. He patted the young man on the back and stated, “I think you’ve had enough for one day. Forget the weights this time, hit the showers.” Urging him off. Gabriel watched as the young man limped his way toward the men’s locker room, shaking his head and turning around toward his ‘other’ student. And to him, that is what Fenris would always be right up until the day he decided to ultimately end his in-ring career and retire. 

Fenris sat on the edge of the ring apron, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. That what just had happened inside of the training ring was just another day. And for him, it pretty much was just that. It was a very rare occurrence where Fenris stepped in at Gabriel’s request to assist training a young man with hopes and dreams of his own to break into the sport of professional wrestling. After all, it wasn’t like Gabriel was short on help, if he needed it at all. Gabriel was not one of those trainers who took the fees and then sat back while others did all the work while he kept the glory for himself. No, Gabriel was more often than not, right there in the ring, handling the training himself. That was how it was done with Fenris himself, and it was how Gabriel also had trained Aron. The former two-time World Heavyweight Champion lived by the credo “if you want something done right, you do it yourself.’ But that did not mean he wasn’t above having a helping hand every now and then. After all, he had his Despayre always at the gym, always ready and willing to lend a hand - just so long as there were no babes involved. There was also Shane Boswell, Synn, Jake Sullivan and even O’Malley.

Fenris, however, had little to no patience (big surprise there) for training someone else when most, if not all, of his time was preoccupied with training himself. His patience with the students was not well known, and he had little desire to coddle anyone when they were preparing for such a rough and tumble world as they would be forced to survive in. He would often begin to think of them as, and treat them like, actual opponents in a ‘make or break’ mindset. This was why Gabriel would only ask for his assistance on very rare occasions, such as when there was a headstrong charge who needed to be taught a hard lesson in humility. And it was why only at these times did Fenris agree. For one, he got a tickle out of slapping a punk bitch around who thought he was all that without having to put in any tried and true effort to succeed. (Gee, who does THAT remind you of?) And two, he owed Gabriel much, inside of the ring and out. He helped transition this MMA superstar into perhaps the fastest rising World Heavyweight Champion in SCW history. Four months in after his debut and the gold was his, beginning a reign of dominance and an undefeated streak that lasted almost a full year.

But it was outside of the ring where Gabriel had made his mark with this hot headed Icelandic star. Because when he needed a lesson in humility himself, Gabriel was there. When his arrogance overcame his intelligence, Gabriel brought his head down from out of the clouds and taught him the value of keeping those close even closer rather than drive them away. And when the wrestling and MMA worlds were shocked by the indiscreet affair between Fenris and Kris Ryans, revealing the “White Wolf” as a closeted homosexual, Gabriel had been there to talk him down. Part tough love, part genuine concern; Gabriel had been there.

“You were a little rough in there, weren’t you?” Gabriel asked calmly, but it had been put more of a statement of fact rather than openly questioning. It was enough, however, to draw the attention of Fenris who looked up, his brow knitted in something of a cross between confusion and a frown. The entire time he had been in the ring, sparring with Josh, he had thought he had been going light on the kid. Or at the very least, his version of what going light was. Fenris then extended a hand over to Gabriel…

“Hi, I’m Kristjan.” He stated without mirth or menace in his voice. Just a flat, even tone. “Have we met?”

Gabriel looked down at the offered hand, then glanced upward through his brow and at the stone set face of his charge. Their eyes met briefly before the corner of Gabriel’s lips twitched and he shook his head. “Wise arse…” He half muttered, just loud enough so that Fenris could hear, but not so loud that his son would be able as he turned and had a seat beside Fenris on the edge of the ring apron. There was only the briefest of moments of silence between the two men before ultimately Gabriel asked, “So what was that all about, anyway? You were a little more aggressive than normal in there with poor Josh.”

“Is he alright?” Fenris asked casually, to which Gabriel smiled, “He’s a tough kid. He’ll be alright. If anything, it’ll push him to work harder.” But he then turned his head and addressed Fenris more directly, “But you’re changing the subject. You didn’t answer my question. What was that about?”

Gabriel waited a moment, knowing just how close this young man kept his literal heart on his proverbial sleeve, and how much he valued his privacy in any and all matters. The few rare times he had a problem and Gabriel had succeeded in making a breakthrough by getting him to open up, even if just a little, was momentous. He had seen Fenris through some of his best times, but also some of his worst, during his stay in Las Vegas. That was why he was getting so good at reading not only this student in particular, but all of the GO Gym graduates overall.

He finally asked, “Something wrong?”

“Why would you think something is wrong?”

“Come on. I’ve known you since `17. I think I can read you just enough to know when something is gnawing at you.” Gabriel pointed out the obvious, then something of the not so obvious. “Plus, you seemed pretty lax about training for Brayden and yet here you are.”

Fenris remained calm, stoic. “You always said not to take any opponent lightly.”

“True.” Gabriel acknowledged this to be fact with a nod of the head. “But let’s face facts. We’ve all seen Brayden’s two matches that he’s had so far. Kid is…”

“A punk ass bitch.” Fenris stated without hesitation, only looking up at the clearing of Gabriel’s throat and then across the Gym’s floor to where Lucas was. A silent warning to kindly watch the foul language that Fenris had turned into an art form when his children were anywhere nearby.

Gabriel, despite the immediate circumstance, nodded in agreement, but then said, “True. Let’s face facts. Brayden’s sister Brittany is more dangerous in his matches than Brayden himself. I think she’s the one you have to worry about.”

“Unless that’s just the image the little shi- the little punk…” He quickly corrected himself. “... Wants to project or us to think. I’m not taking the chance. I haven’t lost a match since my last match with Ben.” Bringing up the topic of that epic encounter the two men had over the World Heavyweight Championship, one that fast became something others had to live up toward and was a runner up to the Match of the Year for 2020. Fenris then added, “I’m not worried about her getting involved. It’ll be her swan song if she decides to stick her worked on nose into my match with her brother.”

“What are you talking about?” Gabriel asked out of genuine curiosity. “You know you can’t lay a hand on her.”

“I never said I would. And you know damn well that Aron would never lay a hand on her.” Fenris lifted his downcast, hang-dog expression from the floor to Gabriel. He shook his head but this time it was he who had a wisp of a conspiratorial smile on the lips. “But do you think I don’t know any women who would gladly do the job for the both of us?”

Gabriel shrugged, acknowledging this to be fact. Charlotte. Mackenzie. Hell, even Tempest from the Gym would probably be willing to intervene and prevent Brittany Williams from potentially costing Fenris the match on Sunday against Brayden. He then opted to press a touch harder, this time toward what could be a more sensitive topic as he asked, “Is it about David?” Fenris quickly brought his attention toward his mentor and Gabriel added, “Shepherd…”

“I know who you mean!” Fenris barked, quickly checking himself rather than allow the little one who looked up to think he dared to raise his voice at his dad. He checked himself and asked, “You telling me you know about David?” The quickly amended, “Not that there is anything…”

“Of course not.” Humored him, taking his eyes away from Fenris. Not being stared at as they talked might be a small key to getting the man to open up, even if just a little. He noticed from the corner of his eye, Fenris also looked away, but he could see the faintest traces of coloring rise up along his neck and ears. So he was either embarrassed or angry. When dealing with Fenris, sometimes it was hard to decipher one from the other. He then stressed, “But we’ve been through this whole song and dance before. You don’t have to hide who you are from anyone.”

“And I told you that sometimes I'd prefer to keep my private life private.” Fenris countered.

“I understand.” Gabriel raised a hand to try to help ward off any of that infamous temper of his from rising to the surface like an active volcano, ready to blow at any moment. “But you can’t fault a friend for wanting to be there for another friend.” There was a moment’s pause between them, and Gabriel heard the distinctive sound of a breath escaping the man beside him, a sigh of annoyance or indignation.

“I guess not.” Was all that he said, but it was something. It was a first step.

“Was it that TMZ video?” Gabriel added and the sudden intake of breath from Fenris told him that he had just hit the nail on the head.

“You heard about that?” Was all Fenris had to ask, and Gabriel chuckled. Not at the expense of his student, but at the situation that this man tended to find himself in seemingly every time someone caught his interest.

“I did.” Gabriel answered. “I didn’t have to, but I did. Actually, nobody had to see that after that pair of lip locks you two put on each other after your match.” Gabriel smirked and gave a playful, bro-type elbow into Fenris’s bicep. “That kind of gave away that there was something there. The TMZ video just confirmed it.”

“God’s…!” Fenris looked up toward the ceiling and shook his head in frustrated dismay. “Just once I would like to be involved with something that didn’t fall under public scrutiny!”

“Yes, well. Good luck with that.” Was all Gabriel could say, turning Fenris’s attention toward him.

“Meaning?” Fenris confronted him. Gabriel answered, “Meaning, I understand you want to keep your private life separate from your professional one. Believe me, I get it! When O and I had Lucas there, all anybody wanted to know about was him. His gender, his name, they started demanding pictures of our son as if it was their right! I heard what Candy said to you on Twitter, and I agree and disagree. I think giving an autograph at appropriate times is the least we can do for someone’s support, but when people start trying to invade our personal lives? That’s when it’s time to draw the line.”

“Well, too late for that now.” Fenris seemed to fall into an almost icy trance, his eyes staring straight ahead but seemingly at nothing, not seeing a thing before him. “Just can’t believe they were waiting outside of my cabin, like a goddamn stalker!”

Gabriel sighed, admitting, “Unfortunately that is the price to pay for a celebrity. People will always sink to new depths to dig up dirt on someone. Bright side?”

Fenris turned and frowned at the man, shaking his head, “Oh I dare you…”

But that did not phase Gabriel one iota as he smiled, his shoulders trembling from the effort of restraining himself. He quipped, “At least this time they didn’t get anything incriminating caught on tape?”

Fenris slowly closed his eyes and turned away, shaking his head in an embarrassed silence. But Gabriel was known for being just a touch mischievous as he was unable to help adding, “Not that they would have had to, if half the details Esther said was true.”

“Please, stop!” Fenris all but demanded in a vain effort to curb Gabriel’s fun at his expense. Gabriel chuckled and did indeed opt to let the man off the hook, adding one last piece of advice, from one friend to another. “Fen-Kristjan.” Gabriel found himself dropping the use of his ring name, and going for the more informal use of his given name. A sign of the bond and familiarity between the two men. He advised, “I know you like to keep things close, but there is nothing wrong with letting those closest to you in just a little bit. You managed with Ty…”

“And look where that got me.”

“Okay, point for you.” Gabriel admitted. “But my point remains the same. If all this is making you that uncomfortable, maybe it’s time to talk to David about what happened on that TMZ video. Or the youtube one that member of his congregation put up.”

Fenris slowly turned his head back to Gabriel and he asked heatedly, “What youtube video…!?”


Crown and Anchor British Pub

Fenris had never been the type to appreciate or frequent the fancier, brightly lit modern nightclubs with loud, screaming patrons and flashing neon lights, that seemed to draw Las Vegas visitors and citizens like flies to manure. Only a handful of those closest to him knew that he had an uncomfortable ‘thing’ with enclosed spaces were concerned, and when these clubs were at their peak, they became standing room only and it was a feeling like the walls closing in around you. He disliked how crowded they tended to get and the vast amount of noise that these clubs tended to bring to loud enough levels that might damage your eardrums for life, or at least cause an intense ringing in the ears until it slowly subsided sometime in the next twenty-four hours - if you were lucky.

The closest he would ever come to going to such a club was the very one that just so happened to be housed inside of the Golden Ring Casino, owned and operated by London Underground’s own Daniel Morgan. SCW and SCU stars were actively encouraged to visit what has fast become a staple to the inner circle of both promotions, but were you to ask Fenris his preferred choice of establishment? It would be the very one he was sitting in at this moment, laying in wait if you will. The Crown and Anchor pub was quiet, with dark lights and low music, if any at all. The decor was minimal but quaint, like any decent pub should be. Here, it was all about the atmosphere, and of course the food and drink. You could have your fill of any one of a number of traditional British ales, but also order off a full menu, some of Great Britain’s top dishes, including everything from fish n’ chips to bangers and mash.

Of course, Fenris wasn’t here for the food. At least, not yet. A vegetarian and British food do not always go hand in hand. Instead, he sat back in one of the booths, in the darkest corner under dim lighting, all the better to keep prying eyes from invading where they were not wanted. Another reason not to have gone to the Golden Ring Casino; the SCW stars were known there,and expected. One look at who he was meeting with and the tongues were surely to begin wagging. So, he sat there with a tall pint of London Porter in hand when a voice said approaching him from behind, “Sorry I’m late!”

And Fenris watched as none other than David Shepherd slid into the booth beside him. -- What? You were actually expecting someone else??? David paused briefly to take in his surroundings before he looked back across the booth to the man opposite him, practically immune to the chilled demeanor that Fenris happened to take on upon his arrival.

“Nice.” David nodded, holding a similar appreciation in the establishment as Fenris, before he addressed him, “Took me a bit longer to find the place than I expected.”

Fenris still did not deign to respond just yet as a ‘barmaid’ approached the table and her eyes shined almost as brightly as her smile, being lucky enough to be assigned a booth with not just one good looking man, but two! As she had already served Fenris his beer, her eyes were for David only this time around, asking, “What can I get you, luv?” Leaving David to ponder as he leaned back to look past her and toward the chalk board with the specials listed above the bar. But before he could ultimately come to his own decision, Fenris took it upon himself to solve the smallest of dilemmas by telling the barmaid, “He’ll have a Black Dog lager.”

She turned from Fenris to David for confirmation and David shrugged, “I guess I’ll be having a Black Dog lager.” Leaving her to smile and nod, turning away to head back toward the bar to fill his order.

David then continued to look around, surveying his surroundings with a silent appreciation. He casually, and innocently, said, “Nice place. You wouldn’t think it was a gay bar…”

“It’s not.” Fenris said, correcting his observation. “I do not like most gay bars that I’ve been to. The rare ones I’ve let myself be dragged to. Too loud. Too crowded.”

“You’re not into that scene?” David asked in a casual attempt to get to know at least a little something further about the man seated across from him, besides the fact he was attractive and great in bed.

Fenris answered, “Never was. Been to like - three, in my whole life and it was all the same. Loud music. Loud people. Fucking drama everywhere you look! Can’t even talk to someone without the arrogant little fucks thinking you’re out for a piece of ass rather than just someone to talk to. Places are goddamned meat markets! Would rather be in a dark, quiet place like this instead of staring at some man in a dress or assless chaps.”

“Depends on the ass I suppose.” David quipped as the barmaid returned, sliding the tall pint of beer in its place before David. Perhaps to her vast disappointment, David did not return her smile or even wink. A slight “thanks” but otherwise, his attentions was for the man seated opposite him. David took a drink of the dry, almost gritty beer before setting it down on the table in front of him and saying, “Not bad. Bit stronger than the beers I know.”

“Most beers from Europe are.” Fenris stated. “Mackenzie calls American beer ‘piss water.’ You should try Snake Venom, sometime.”

“Excuse me?” David said, wondering if he misheard or misunderstood.

“Is a brand of Icelandic beer.” Fenris answered for his benefit. “Strongest in world at sixty-seven percent.”

“Shit…” David relaxed back against the plush tanned leather of the booth, then a wicked grin crossed his lips as he said, “If you’re trying to get me drunk for a repeat performance, you’re wasting your time.” Taking extra care to keep his voice low. He was still what you might describe as ‘fresh out of the closet’ and was not comfortable enough in his own skin, let alone a public and intimate exchange such as the one he was having with Fenris.

The bold claim, however, gave Fenris pause from his personal thoughts to instead raise his brow. David was, in his own mind, ‘sex on legs,’ and he was nothing if not confident that if he wanted David in bed, it would take little to no convincing. “We really need to talk.” Fenris said, expertly and curtly ending any further attempts by David at any form of light-hearted banter between the two … what were they, anyway? It seemed to be too soon to tell or put a name on whatever was happening between the two men.

“Okay…” David was about to take another drink of his beer, and instead he set it back down with a sense of dread beginning to well up in the pit of his stomach; almost like a knot growing tighter. Maybe Fenris got what he wanted on the cruise and saw no further need or use for him… He sighed and rubbed massaged his temple with the fingers of his right hand as he asked, “About anything in particular? About that TMZ video? If it was about what my sister said about us, I swear…”

“No.” Fenris interrupted. “Not about that video.” The emphasis on the word ‘that’ not being lost on David. Fenris then held up his free hand, and in it was his phone with a video set on it. A video from the former Church of the Good Shepherds here in Las Vegas. A very familiar video that David recognized almost immediately. Someone in his Congregation had, in fact, recorded and uploaded the sermon in his promo where he indulged everyone in the most sexualized and intimate details of he and Fenris being intimate in every way, every place, and every position imaginable in that cabin that one evening.

David’s eyes rose from the screen to meet the openly hostile stare of Fenris who tossed the phone onto the table top. He shook his head, “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“It’s not like that…” David started to stress, but he wasn’t given much of a chance, if any at al, in defending himself from this not-too-subtle of accusations. When Fenris and that temper of his got the steam rolling, it was hard if not outright impossible to slow him down.

“Don’t.” Fenris said quietly. “I… I just am pissed at myself for being fooled into thinking this was anything more than it was, I guess. I mean, I’ve had one night stands every now and then, but I think this is a first, even for me. I’ve never been used for a promotional booty call before.”

The words hung like icicles in the air between the two men, as if the raging hot temperatures outside in the Las Vegas air was beginning to cool down considerably. David’s brow now started to knit into a frown of its own, practically matching that of Fenris’s. “Excuse me…?” he started to say but Fenris extended a hand, palm up, across the table in a universal gesture.

Fenris said, “I mean, come on! Isn’t that what men do? Bag someone and then go about and brag to all of their buddies? Tell them all the details?” But this time, perhaps for the first time, Fenris may have met his match as a look flashed across David’s own eyes. Pain. Hurt. … Anger.

He said with no small amount of venom to his own tone of voice as he confronted Fenris finally with his own misgivings between them, saying, “Well I’d rather have someone brag about being with me than to be flat out denied!”

And surprisingly, Fenris said nothing. He was either caught unaware by this sudden change in David’s own strong demeanor, or he was accepting of the fact that what David was saying was no less than true - and that he had no real defense for it.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re…” he started to say, but this time it was David who interrupted him, arching his brow in mock wonder as he said, “Really? So you haven’t been on twitter ever since YOU bagged ME, denying anything ever happened between us?”

“That’s different…” Fenris tried to defend himself, but David was all over him, saying before he could continue to muster a defense, “Sure it is. You like to keep your private life private!” **air quotes** “Boo hoo! But let me ask you this! What do you think is more damaging to someone!? A moment’s embarrassment… or being flat out denied?”

Fenris frowned as David sat there, rigid. Waiting. Then, ultimately, David Shepherd shook his head and stood up. “Fuck this! This was a mistake!” And he slid out of the bar and simply stormed out of the pub, a few heads having turned to watch him leave and having overheard the outburst from both men. Fenris watched him go, not taking a step to stop him. He then fell back against the booth and muttered, “God damn it….”

Las Vegas, Nevada -
GO Gym

Yes, it indeed was time to return here to the famed GO Gym, but this time more for business rather than pleasure. And this time, the setting inside of the gym was different than in times past when Fenris was set to cut the promo for whatever upcoming match he was scheduled for. The interior of the Gym remained dark as the camera swept through in exploration, an almost sinister air behind the darkness and the shadows that lurked around and beneath the rings and the workout equipment. The through an arched door frame we move through until we arrive at a short hallway, and a closed door; the entrance to not the office that the Stevens share for business purposes involving the Gym and its respective students, but to the larger room used as a lecture hall/classroom setting where students are lectured on the nuances of the business and are able to fine tune their promo skills in front of a camera.

There, beneath the closed door, a faint light could be seen. The camera moved forward and the door was opened, and seated at one of the classroom desks was none other than Fenris, the literal man of the hour. Gone were his workout clothes and now he was dressed in more comfortable attire, an open sleeved t-shirt bearing the emblem of the Icelandic football club, Stjarnan Iceland, blue jeans with the knees torn, and his bare feet clad in his favored flip flops. The moment the camera moved inside of the room, those ice blue, ice cold eyes meet it and Fenris promptly brought up a hand and pointed the other way. The camera pivoted and turned around to face the head of the classroom where Aron stood behind the desk that doubled as a lecture podium, clad in what appeared to be a white academic robe. Aron stepped up to the podium’s microphone and proceeded with his lecture.

“Yes, I know. This is probably the last thing that everyone was expecting, but as both brother and manager to Fenris, I thought we might start things off a little bit differently this time around. While we will get down to more direct business eventually, I want to take this brief moment to discuss the theory of nature versus nurture. And before anyone questions the logic behind this path that Fenris and I are taking, trust me that there is a method to my madness.”

“There had BETTER be!”

“*ahem* Yes. Now as the college graduate, I opted to step in here for this lecture to help educate Fenris in relation to the claims from his opponent Brayden Hilton that everything he does, every success that he has experienced in life, is predisposed in his favor due to his being the son of Crystal Zdunich. In psychology, the theory of ‘nature versus nurture’ refers to how ‘nature,’ or biological and genetic predispositions' impact on average human traits, and ‘nurture’ describes the influence of learning and other influences from one's environment. In other words, if one has a parent that is highly skilled in athletics, does that mean that his or her traits pass down to their offspring? Do the children of a business person with a vastly high IQ automatically have a leg up, so to speak, against their peers? What one might refer to as some form of biological advantage?”

“The simple fact is that there is no real, clear cut answer. There have been studies going on toward these theories for decades, and the one tried and true answer is genetics do not inherently get passed down as far as physical and emotional traits are concerned. Some experts say there is conclusive proof that nature always wins out over nurture, but if this is the case, then explain how a parent with a higher than average IQ might have a son or daughter with an IQ that does not quite match up to that of his or her parents? Explain how a pro sport legend might have a child that not only doesn’t follow in their parents’ footsteps, but can not. Not because they won’t, but because they simply do not share their talents or physical prowess towards that chosen field.”

“Now, it’s a given fact that children do inherit physical traits from their parents; eye color. Height, genetic diseases, skin color - even life expectancy all influenced by strong, biological influences. But where nurture is concerned, look at such sensitive topics as say - racism. A trait that a parent might have but not the child, added from the old saying that racism is taught, not inherited. Physical and domestic violence? If a man abuses his wife, can he say that he was predisposed to do so because he stood back and watched his father do the same to his mother?”

Aron shook his head.

“Just because your parents are a success in a chosen field, there is no evidence to support your claims that you are great because your parents are.”

Fenris stood up and approached the podium en route to taking his leave from the Gym’s classroom. He said, “In other words, it's bullshit!”

Aron nodded, despite himself as Fenris grasped the door and pulled it open to take his leave. The camera followed him out, but he did not exit the Gym entirely. He simply moved to more comfortable and familiar surroundings in the central gym floor itself.

“Well! That was fun! That was informative!”

He frowned as he shook his head, the lights remaining dim, casting him in just enough illumination to be seen.

“And now, just like Brayden and everything that little turd spews from that mouth, I’m a liar too. I hope nobody fell asleep during that last bit, but Aron decided that since Brittany enjoys playing a factor in her brother’s wins, he would enjoy just as much playing an indirect role in his own brother’s win. Just, unlike Brittany, not a hands-on role because he knows his brother is physically and mentally able to hold his own without having to rely on anyone for help. Brayden Williams; son of SCW’s iconic Crystal Zdunich. Son of Todd Williams, whose name I’m barely familiar with. Both names he uses to justify his actions and predict his own success story as it happens, as well as before. He’s like one of those snotty little rich kids you hear about who expect to coast through life because their parents are a success, so they don’t have to be. Their parents have money and power and influence, so obviously they don’t have to put in any effort of their own. They plan to simply glide through life, based on the successes of someone else.”

“That is Brayden Hilton, through and through. Though to be fair, to play the role of devil’s advocate, if I were Brayden and I were bragging? I would really only acknowledge the success of one parent; Crystal Zdunich. Because despite all the hatred directed towards her, for everything she’s done to her peers and the way she turns her back on the fans at the drop of a hat, the simple fact is; she wins. A record setting five-time World Champion? Roulette Champion? Internet Champion? Blast From the Past Champion. Hall of Fame in 2018. Face facts; love the woman or hate her, you can’t deny that when she steps inside of the ring, she wins. Oh and, unlike her son, she wins without help. Has she cheated? Yes. But she did so on her own. Has she relied on someone else getting involved in her matches because deep down, she wasn’t cut out for the business and she had to rely on short cuts?”

He pondered briefly in thought before he shook his head.

“I can’t say I can remember a time when she did, but we’d have to ask Mercedes Vargas to confirm or deny the fact. And Todd Williams…?”

Fenris mockingly cupped a hand to his ear and leaned in to listen, but after a moment’s pause, he shrugged in indifference and gave up.

“That’s what I thought. The only thing I ever hear about the man is in passing, usually from Crystal and Brayden who call him a wrestling great but fuck’s sake! I’ve never heard of the man! I know he even signed briefly to SCW but the moment he found out he was just a small fish in a big pond, he was gone before he could prove to the world he wasn’t as great as his family would lead you to believe. He had one or two matches and then before you know it…”

He let out a whistle and jetted a thumb back over his shoulder.

“Guy flew the coop! Before he could make any impact, before he could show anyone what he was or was not capable of doing. Most I heard he ever accomplished was terrorizing a few women, which speaks volumes about his character as a man, doesn’t it? And yet this is the same man that young Brayden Hilton proudly calls his father, the man he will follow in the…” **air quotes** “.. Successful footsteps of.”

He stared straight into the camera and a shake of the head was all the reaction we needed to read how Fenris truly felt about the man. His face remained impassive but the eyes, the eyes told the entire story.

“Explains a lot, doesn’t it? In the real world, in this business as in life, you have to give and take. But for Brayden, all he cares about is the taking. All that is important to him is what someone can do for him, not what he can do for someone else. Why else do you think the fucking idiot would sneak his PREGNANT WIFE on board of a cruise vessel!?”

Fenris snorted back a derisive laugh, a smile on his face but one that practically screamed sarcasm.

“Did you think because it was not aired ‘on camera,’ that word wouldn’t have spread that there was a birth on board in the middle of the fucking ocean!? And whose it was! I may not be book smart or match your so-called GPA or IQ, but even I’m smart enough to know you don’t take pregnant women on cruises or flights! And because you felt like showing off and treating that woman like some sort of trophy, maybe to make you look good or better than what you do (or think you do), she paid the price for it! Your child paid the price by having a selfish shit like you as its father! For his or her sake, I hope that Aron’s beliefs in nurture over nature are true! Otherwise all one has to do is look at you to see that child’s future and feel sorry for them!”

Folding his arms over his chest, Fenris turned his back away from the camera and moved across the gym floor, taking care not to trip or stumble in the dim lighting, but he was familiar enough from his time there that he arrived at the ringside without trial nor error. He turned back and leaned lightly against the ring post, his arms remaining folded but his face seemed almost impassive, as if he were without a care.

“You know, when Aron came to me with the updated card and told me who I was up against this week, I have to admit that like Brayden, I was at first wondering what the fuck the bookers were smoking. Here I am, a former World Heavyweight Champion with one of the best win-loss records in the history of SCW, and am I booked against Mac Bane for the title, or even a non-title match?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Am I up against an up and comer like Miles Kasey or experienced men who have proven their worth time and again like Alex Jones or Bill Barnhart?”

Again, he shook his head in the negative to answer his own question.

“No. Instead, they book me against a whiny, bratty little bitch who doesn’t know his asshole from a turnbuckle pad! A punk ass little bastard who just waltzed in here and expected everybody to bow down and kiss his ass and call it ice cream! But then after a while, it hit me. I actually started to understand why Mark Ward would take time away from pushing me onto bigger and better things and instead, put me up against someone like you, Brayden. It’s not because of something I did. It’s not to punish me.”

He shook his head and this time a cold smile crept on his face as he directed a finger toward the camera and tapped the lens.

“It’s because of you. It’s to punish - you. And it all started with that first tweet of Brittany’s after our match was made official, but boy? You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? Guys like you never can. You disrespected a man like Mark Ward, and now he’s siccing the SCW’s resident attack dog on you, and I am going to chew you up and spit you out until there isn’t enough left of you to fill a can of fucking Alpo!”

Holding up one hand, he counts off on three fingers while smiling.

“Academic. Athletic. Achiever. That right there, Brayden? That’s your credo or at least what you try to shove down everyone’s throats as to what you live by?”

He choked back a laugh.

“You are so full of shit! I can’t speak for academics, even though I wouldn’t be surprised if Mommy and Daddy helped you in that regard too. But as far as athletics? As far as an achiever goes? Who the fuck do you think you’re fooling other than yourself!? Anybody and everybody who has watched your matches against Goth and Shane Borderland! You would have lost BOTH of those matches were it not for one, simple factor; Brittany. She interfered. She saved your ass more than once, and being the pathetic little bitch of a man that you truly are? You’re actually proud of the fact! You actually smile and nod when someone tells you that you only win because you chest and your sister gets involved in your matches! And I - I don’t get it. I honest to gods do not understand how a man, ANY MAN, can be proud of winning when he didn’t do it on his own! For you, winning is both everything and the only thing that matters. You don’t give a shit how it’s done, so long as it IS done! You want to bring back the good standing of the names you follow but all that shit you stir, all you’re doing is sullying it more and more with each passing match. And I get it, really I do. Ever since you first showed up, all you’ve done is brag about yourself and how great you are and how perfect and awesome Brayden Hilton is and how we are all lucky to be sharing SCW with you!”

He added the last, his eyes looking toward the ceiling with arms raised in the air as if in sheer gratitude. Until, that is, he lowered his arms and his true expression fell to the camera.

“Bitches like you coast through life, saying whatever the fuck you want in the belief that nobody would dare say anything back. You think you can do or say whatever pleases you about whoever has displeased you at any given time, without your nose ever getting bloodied in retaliation. Well SURPRISE, little boy! Reality is upon you and it’s about to hit you right in the face, bloodying that nose, bloodying those lips, sending those teeth back to Detroit before you ever manage to drag your scrawny ass from out of the ring! And do you know what is both the saddest and best part of the whole thing? There’s nothing you or anybody else can do to stop it! Not the referee, not your mommy, not even your sister who is a lot more dangerous than you could ever hope to be! You have proven against Goth and Shane that you are fucking NOTHING without someone there to bail you out of trouble, and I am saying this right now and I am directing it at YOU, Brittany…!”

He looked directly at the camera, as if he were looking into the eyes of Brayden’s twin and Crystal’s daughter.

“If you want to know what’s best for you, keep your god damn nose OUT of this match! Don't try to distract the referee! Do not put your brother’s foot on the ropes to save him or pull him out of the ring and from harm’s way! And god help you, do NOT even think to consider putting your hands on me in any way, shape or form because that will be your own swan song!”

He turned his head to the side, facing another camera.

“You, Brayden.  YOU are the reason this is happening. YOU are the reason that I was planning to take this match lightly but after the shit that you and your sister have said and the trash that you’ve talked? I am taking this a LOT more seriously, and Brayden?”

His smile widened as he leaned in closer toward the camera.

“I am going to enjoy every fucking minute inside of that ring with you. Mark Ward is going to be back in his office or watching from home, kicking back with a smile. Candy, our interim boss, she might be cringing but in the long run? I think she’ll be thanking me. Because I know the SCW Universe will. I know the locker room will throw a god damned party when they watch me snap your fingers and you howl like the little cry baby that you are! The fans are going to raise the roof, watching that buggy whip arm of yours get stomped on, and your cries are going to be music to the world’s ears. I can not recall the last time that something I did in the ring was repaid with thanks or genuine appreciation, but then again? I’ve never been in the ring with a pussy like you before. So I guess you might say… you are about to bring out the best in me, Brayden. And the best of me, is the worst possible thing for you! Two men, Brayden.”

He held up two fingers because he probably thought a punk like Brayden would have to get naked just to be able to count to twenty one.

“Two men since I’ve debuted have been able to beat me; Austin James Mercer, and Ben Jordan.”

He shook his head.

“You are not going to be the third. You just do not have the stones for it.

“You want to go around and brag about how you’re a third generation Superstar and the next big thing? Go ahead! Prove it to everyone else but most of all, prove it to ME! But everybody who has tuned in and watched you in the ring knows the truth; you are the elite. You are not awesome or whatever else adjective you want to look up in order to better describe yourself! not a second or even a third generation sensation. All you are is a pathetic little self regurgitated sperm burp! You weren’t born into this business, destined for greatness. You were fucking squeezed out of a cum rag!”

He stood up from against the ring post and held his arms out wide and smiled even wider.

“And I don’t think that I’ve ever had as much fun as I’m about to have on Sunday! And I owe it all to you so in thanks … drop me a line and let me know who to send the condolence card to.”

That being the final word on the matter, Fenris turned his back to the camera and walked toward the open door to take his leave. Stepping through and into the night air, the door shut behind him with a loud clang, enveloping the gym in darkness once again.