December 4th, 2024
It felt strange not being on the list for High Stakes. Everyone else was gearing up for it, Miles especially—training harder, talking bigger, pushing themselves to the limit. It was the biggest opportunity of the year, and I stepped back from it.
Not because I didn’t want it. God knows I wanted it. I wanted to prove I belong in the SCW spotlight, to show everyone that I’m not just Miles’s little brother or an afterthought. But there’s something bigger I had to focus on, something I’ve kept to myself.
I signed up for the LSATs.
Yeah. Me. The guy who spends most of his time getting slammed into the mat and throwing punches is also the guy who once had dreams of law school. Dreams that, until recently, felt like they belonged to someone else—a version of me I left behind when I stepped into the ring.
But the truth is, they’ve always been there, lingering in the back of my mind, even as I’ve chased success in wrestling. My moms always believed I could do it. They didn’t push, but they never let me forget that the option was there. And with the way things have been—losing matches, struggling to find my footing—I started wondering if I could be more than just a wrestler.
So, I made the decision. No High Stakes for me. No Christmas championship dreams. Instead, I spent those weeks studying, cramming, obsessing over logic games and reading comprehension passages. I kept it from Miles, from Ally, from everyone. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them; I just didn’t want anyone talking me out of it or making it bigger than it needed to be.
Now the test is done. I walked out of that room drained, with a mix of relief and panic swirling in my chest. It wasn’t easy. Hell, it felt harder than any match I’ve been in. But I gave it everything I had, just like I would in the ring.
And now I’m waiting.
Waiting for results, for validation, for some sign that this path I’ve chosen isn’t just another wild leap of faith. And while I wait, I can’t help but wonder how this decision will affect everything else. My career, my relationships, my future.
I’ve spent so much of my life trying to prove I’m good enough—to Miles, to Carter, to the fans, to myself. Wrestling is where I’ve poured my heart and soul, but maybe... maybe it doesn’t have to be the only place.
I don’t know what’s next and that’s the weirdest thing. I do know that I’ll be back in the ring by the next show, ready to claw my way back to the top. But this...maybe this is the start of something entirely new.
Either way, I know one thing: I made this choice for me. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m in control of my own story.
LJ sat cross-legged on the floor of his Vegas apartment, the soft hum of a Christmas playlist filling the quiet space. His phone rested on the coffee table, speaker mode on, as his moms' familiar voices filled the room. Even through the phone, their dynamic was as clear as ever—Rebecca’s warmth balanced by Joan’s sharp wit.
“So,” Rebecca began gently, her tone careful yet probing, “What’s the plan for Christmas, honey? Are you coming home?”
LJ hesitated, fiddling with the corner of an unopened box nearby. “Honestly? I haven’t decided yet.”
“Translation,” Joan interjected, “he’s avoiding the question.”
“Joan,” Rebecca chided, but there was a smile in her voice.
LJ chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to come home. I do. It’s just… complicated this year. Ally’s in Dallas with her daughter most of the time, so if I spend Christmas with them, I’d have to fly there. And then there’s Miles and Carter—first Christmas as a married couple, and I don’t even know what they’re planning. I’m not about to hound them about it.”
“That’s very considerate of you,” Rebecca said, her voice tinged with pride. “But you’re allowed to want something for yourself, too, LJ. It doesn’t always have to be about what works for everyone else.”
Joan jumped in, her tone as pragmatic as ever. “Exactly. You’ve got options, kid. Vegas, Dallas, New York, hell, even home—it’s your call. But sitting on the fence isn’t going to make the decision any easier.”
LJ sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I know, I know. It’s just… I don’t want to overstep, you know? Ally and I haven’t talked about Christmas yet. I don’t even know if she’d want me there. And you guys—”
“Stop right there,” Rebecca cut in. “We will always want you here. But we also understand that you’ve got your own life, your own priorities. You don’t need to feel guilty about that.”
“Besides,” Joan added with a teasing lilt, “we’ve had enough Christmases with you hogging the remote. One year without that isn’t going to kill us.”
LJ laughed despite himself. “Hey, someone had to make sure we didn’t end up watching It’s a Wonderful Life for the millionth time.”
“Blasphemy,” Rebecca muttered, though he could hear the smile in her voice.
“Look,” Joan said, her tone softening just slightly, “you’ve had a crazy year, LJ. New opportunities, big decisions—you’re allowed to take a step back and figure out what you need. Whether that’s spending Christmas with Ally, or coming home to us, or just staying put and breathing for once.”
“That last part does sound nice,” LJ admitted. “This year’s been… a lot.”
“And that’s all the more reason to make this decision for you,” Rebecca said. “We’ll support whatever you decide. Just promise to let us know before Christmas Eve, okay? Your mother might overcook if she doesn’t know how many people she’s feeding.”
Joan snorted. “She overcooks anyway.”
“Joan,” Rebecca said, the exasperation in her voice half-hearted.
“I’ll let you know,” LJ promised, smiling at their familiar bickering. “And no matter where I am, I’ll FaceTime you guys. Deal?”
“Deal,” they said in unison.
As the call ended, LJ sat in the quiet of his apartment, the weight of the decision still hanging over him. His moms were right—this year had been a whirlwind, and maybe what he really needed was to slow down and figure out what felt right.
Whether that meant a quiet holiday in Vegas, a plane ticket to Dallas, or a last-minute trip back to the UK, he knew one thing for sure: Christmas wasn’t about the location. It was about the people who made it feel like home. And no matter where he ended up, he wouldn’t lose sight of that.
The camera opens to a bustling community center decked out in full holiday spirit. Strings of twinkling lights hang from the rafters, and garlands with red and gold ornaments drape across the walls. A massive Christmas tree stands in one corner, covered in sparkling decorations, surrounded by brightly wrapped gifts. The faint sound of holiday music plays in the background as people mill about, sipping hot cocoa and chatting.
In the middle of it all, there’s a wrestling ring set up, surrounded by chairs. Kids in Santa hats are excitedly sitting on the apron, watching as LJ steps into the ring, wearing festive workout gear—a green and red hoodie with a reindeer logo, the hood pulled halfway up. He adjusts his gloves as he looks around, his face a mixture of amusement and determination.
LJ climbs onto the second turnbuckle, looking out at the small crowd of fans and holiday revelers who’ve gathered. He grabs a microphone resting on the top turnbuckle and smiles.
“You know, it’s not every day you get to train in a place that smells like gingerbread and pine trees.”
The crowd chuckles, and a kid yells, “Kick some butt, LJ!” LJ points at him and winks.
“Don’t worry, mate, that’s the plan. But let’s talk about why we’re here, yeah? Because in just a few days, I’m stepping into the ring with someone who’s practically a legend in this business. Kris Ryans. You all know the name. Hall of Famer, former champion, a guy who’s done it all and then some.”
LJ hops off the turnbuckle, pacing the ring as he speaks, his tone becoming more serious.
“I faced Kris when I first got to SCW. Back then, I was just trying to make a name for myself, trying to prove I could hang with the best. And Kris? He gave me a fight. He showed me what it means to stand across from greatness. I didn’t beat him, but I walked away better for it. That’s the thing about facing someone like Kris—you either step up, or you get left behind.”
He pauses, leaning on the ropes, looking out at the crowd. The glow of Christmas lights reflects in his eyes.
“But lately, something’s been different with Kris, hasn’t it? You’ve seen it, I’ve seen it. The man who used to be untouchable, who used to walk into every match like he owned the place—he’s struggling. He lost to Carter, my brother-in-law, and while Carter’s brilliant, Kris? He’s supposed to be the guy who doesn’t lose to anyone. So now I’m wondering, what’s going on with him? Is it just a rough patch? Or is the weight of his own legacy starting to wear him down?”
LJ straightens up, gripping the top rope, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet intensity.
“Kris, if you’re out there listening, I need you to understand something. I respect everything you’ve done. I respect who you are and what you mean to this business. But respect doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you. Quite the opposite, actually. It means I’m going to bring everything I’ve got, because anything less would be insulting to both of us.”
The crowd cheers lightly, a few fans clapping in agreement.
“Here’s the thing, Kris—I’m not that same kid you faced back in SCW just a few short months ago. I’ve grown. I’ve evolved, and I had to, because if you don’t you are going to drown. And while you’ve been questioning yourself, I’ve been finding answers. I’ve been putting in the work, and now? Now, I’m ready to prove that I don’t just belong in this business—I’m ready to prove that I can beat one of the very best.”
He steps back to the center of the ring, the holiday lights glowing behind him, giving him an almost larger-than-life presence.
“So here’s my holiday wish this year, Kris. I want the best version of you in that ring. I want the Hall of Famer, the legend, the man who’s been to the top and stayed there. Because if you show up as anything less, this isn’t going to be a match. It’s going to be a moment where the future of this business walks right past the past.”
LJ leans on the ropes again, a smirk creeping across his face as the crowd cheers louder this time.
“So, Merry Christmas, Kris. Happy Holidays. And when we step into that ring, don’t think of it as the Ghost of Christmas Past versus the Ghost of Christmas Future. Think of it as the Ghost of Christmas Present, standing right in front of you, ready to remind you what this season is all about—giving. And trust me, mate, I’m more than ready to give you the fight of your life.”
LJ tosses the mic onto the mat and climbs the turnbuckle again, raising a fist in the air as the kids cheer. The camera fades out on the festive scene, the Christmas tree twinkling brightly in the background.
