Pressure Makes Diamonds
Las Vegas never really slept. Even in December, even during the holidays, the city buzzed with a low, constant hum, traffic rolling past at all hours, neon bleeding through curtains, the faint echo of music from somewhere too far away to pinpoint. It was a city built on excess and endurance, and right now, it felt like it was daring LJ to keep up.
The weeks after Bill Barnhart had tried to end him blurred together in a haze of medical lights, doctor’s voices, and hands that kept telling him to slow down. Neck stiffness that refused to fully let go, headaches that flared without warning, the bruises that bloomed and faded across his ribs like time-lapse reminders of how close it had come to being worse.
But the pain wasn’t the hardest part.
The stillness was.
Law school was done, for now. His finals were behind him for the first semester. His books stacked neatly instead of scattered across every surface of the apartment. There were no outlines to chase. No cold panic creeping in at two in the morning about missed footnotes or case law he hadn’t memorized yet.
It was just space....A little too much of it.
The first few days, LJ did what everyone asked of him. He slept more than he had in months. He stayed on the couch with Ally and Ashlynn, letting Ally fuss over him while pretending she wasn’t counting every breath he took, letting Ashlynn hover nearby under the guise of “just hanging out.”
Miles checked in constantly, sometimes by text, sometimes by stopping by. Sometimes just sitting there with him, neither of them talking, the TV playing something neither of them was actually watching.
“You don’t have to rush back,” Miles told him more than once, voice low, careful, "You’ve already proven enough.”
LJ never argued but that fire didn’t go out. It settled.
By the time the doctors cleared him for light training, LJ was already waking up before his alarm every morning, staring at the ceiling as neon from the Strip filtered faintly through the blinds. His body hummed with restless energy, muscles aching not from overuse, but from disuse.
He replayed the hit in his head more than he wanted to admit. The forearm across the neck. The sickening sound of his head bouncing off concrete. The moment where everything went blank.
It wasn’t fear but from frustration. He didn’t crave revenge as of yet, that would come soon enough. He craved agency.
The gym in Vegas smelled the same as it always did, rubber mats, chalk, sweat, but stepping through the doors again felt like reclaiming a piece of himself. LJ wrapped his wrists slowly, methodically, tape pulled tight with practiced hands with no rush or dramatics.
Across the room, Miles leaned against the ropes, arms folded, watching him like a hawk.
“Easy,” Miles said, "I mean it.”
LJ met his brother’s gaze. There was something steadier there now. There was no recklessness and no blind anger. But for sure there was a purpose.
“I am,” LJ said, "I’m just not stopping.”
They kept it controlled. Running the gambit of cardio, footwork, balance drills and ring positioning. The unglamorous work that rebuilt everything from the inside out. LJ listened to his body but he didn’t coddle it. Every twinge reminded him he was alive. Every drop of sweat felt like proof.
And with each passing day, the noise in his head sharpened into clarity. Barnhart had tried to make him small. Tried to remind him of his place. Tried to teach him a lesson about respect through violence.
All he’d really done was strip something away. The luxury of patience. The belief that things would come if LJ just waited long enough.
Waiting was finished.
He had Denver coming, in the last Climax Control of the year.
A three-way match: LJ Kasey vs. Liam Davis...of whom he had a score to settle with anyways and then there was Aiden Reynolds.
Two names that carried their own gravity. Both had already beaten him. But there was one who represented another step in a company that didn’t slow down for anyone, especially not for someone still labeled “new blood.”
And for the first time since the attack, LJ didn’t feel like he was chasing something.
He felt ready.
He stood in the apartment bathroom one morning, hoodie pulled over his head, staring at his reflection. There were still faint shadows under his eyes. A thin line of kinesiology tape at the base of his neck. Evidence of what he’d survived.
And that was good. He wasn’t walking into Denver as a victim. He wasn’t walking in desperation for anything. He was walking in prepared.
Miles clapped him on the shoulder as they headed out the door later that day, "You sure you’re good?”
LJ nodded once, solid, "Yeah,” he said, "I am.”
Outside, Vegas pulsed like it always did, loud, bright, relentless. Pressure had tried to break him this year. Instead, it had done what pressure always does to the right kind of person.
It had turned him into something harder.
And besides....Denver was waiting.
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Proof of Life
The Strip was dressed up in holiday lights anyway, palms wrapped in white strands, fake snow drifting in front of casinos that had never seen the real thing. Everything glittered a little too much, a little too loud, but LJ moved through it quietly, phone pressed to his ear as he stepped into a boutique just off the main drag.
“I’m telling you, Mum, I feel like I’m out of my depth,” he muttered, eyes drifting over glass cases and velvet stands, "And not in the ring.”
Rebecca’s voice came through warm and steady, "You’ve been out of your depth since you were five and tried to read my deposition notes. You’ll manage.”
He snorted softly, "That’s not reassuring.”
“You’re alive. That’s reassuring,” she replied, then softened, "Where are you right now?”
“Out shopping,” he admitted, lowering his voice as a sales associate passed, "For Ally. I didn’t mean for this to be damn near down to the zero hour but when ya have to get laid up after getting jumped like I did and then so busy with school...but...”
There was a pause, there was no judgment or surprise but just recognition, "Oh,” Rebecca said gently, "That kind of shopping.”
LJ stopped in front of a display, fingers hovering over a delicate necklace before pulling back, "She moved her entire life out here, along with her daughter and all of her routines. All of it and I just... I don’t want to screw this up. I feel like I’ve been dropping the ball lately with getting so caught up with the end of the semester and...I don’t know, I feel like I’m really screwing the pooch...”
“You won’t,” Rebecca said immediately.
“Mum...”
“LJ,” she cut in, firm but loving, "You are thoughtful to a fault. That’s why you’re standing in a store instead of grabbing something last minute online like your brother would’ve.” He smiled despite himself, "Don’t tell Miles I said that.”
“Oh, I will absolutely tell him and to his defense, when it comes to Carter especially, Miles is shopping in August for that man.”
LJ picked up a small box, turning it over in his hands, "I want it to mean something. Not flashy. Not ‘look what I bought.’ Just....something that says I see her and how much she means to me.”
Rebecca hummed softly, "You always did understand people better than you thought.”
He leaned against a display table, lowering his voice, "I just don’t know if I’m ready for the next step yet. And I don’t want her thinking this is me promising something I can’t give.”
There it was...the real fear. Rebecca didn’t rush him.
“Love, you don’t have to take every step at once,” she said calmly, "Commitment isn’t a sprint. It’s consistency and from what I can tell, you’ve been showing up every single day.”
He swallowed, "What if that’s not enough?”
“Then you keep showing up,” she replied, "And you talk to her....AND you don’t disappear when it gets hard. That was your father’s M.O. That’s the difference between intention and avoidance and you and him.”
LJ let that sit in his head. He moved on, eventually finding exactly what he was hoping to find in a quieter shop tucked away from the Strip. It was there he found something personal and thoughtful. The kind of gift that didn’t need an explanation because it came with attention baked into it.
When the cashier wrapped it, he stared at the box longer than necessary.
“Did you find it?” Rebecca asked.
“Yeah,” he said softly, "I think so.”
“I’m proud of you,” she added, voice gentler now, "Not just for the wrestling or the law school. For the man you’re becoming.”
The words landed heavier than any punch he’d taken recently.
“Thanks, Mum,” he said quietly.
Outside, he leaned against the railing overlooking the Strip, the gift tucked securely under his arm. The city buzzed below him, neon alive, relentless. Yeah Denver waited and that damn ring waited.
But right now, he was thinking about home and that felt like proof of life.
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Pressure Without Witness
The camera flicked on, static buzzing for a moment before LJ appeared, alone in a dimly lit gym. Sweat clung to his hair, and the faint lines of his bruises were still visible under the lights. He didn’t smile. He didn’t hype, he wasn’t that kind of guy at the moment.
The gym didn’t care who you were. That was the thing LJ liked most about it. The gym was quiet, save for the rhythmic thump of LJ’s footwork against the mat. He circled the ring, bouncing lightly on his toes, eyes scanning the canvas like it could tell him secrets. He stopped in the center, breathing steady, and stared at the camera, as though it could carry his words straight to Denver. He just looked at the lens, steady, intense, and deliberate.
“Climax Control,” he began, voice low, measured, "Three men. One match. No excuses. No shortcuts.”
“Aiden Reynolds,” he started, voice low but fierce, "The man who came within inches of holding the SCW Heavyweight Championship. A guy who’s pushed champions to the brink, who knows exactly how to take control and make you pay for every little mistake. I respect that. Hell, anyone who’s been in that position deserves respect. But... that doesn’t mean I’m intimidated. Not anymore. He’s going to come in calculated, precise, and expecting everyone else to play by his rules. I don’t play by anyone’s rules but my own. Not now. Not at Climax Control. I’ve wrestled guys who were supposed to be untouchable. I’ve faced men who think their experience makes them untouchable. And I’ve learned... it doesn’t. Not if you bring more than just strength, more than just strategy. You bring heart, and you bring fight. And I’ve got both in spades.”
He stepped toward the ropes, leaning over, hands gripping the top strand as if it were an extension of his own thoughts, "And Liam Davis... Yeah, Liam. There’s a debt there. From months ago, from that match where I left it all in the ring but walked away short, and not gonna lie...a tad bit humiliated. He doesn’t know how close I came to breaking that night. He doesn’t know how hard I swore I’d come back. Well, he’s about to find out. Last time we crossed paths, I came up short. I left a piece of myself out there that night, and I didn’t finish what I started. That sticks with you. It should. Because it keeps you honest. Keeps you hungry. I can’t let that debt go unpaid. Not now, not ever. So when we step into that ring, it’s going to be more than a match. It’s going to be a reckoning. For both of them, and for me.”
LJ straightened, jaw tight, letting his gaze sweep the empty gym, "This isn’t just another match. This isn’t just some three-way to tick off the end-of-year card. This is personal. Every second, every exchange, every strike, I owe it to myself to go harder than I’ve ever gone before. I owe it to the people who’ve believed in me, who’ve seen me hit the mat and keep getting up. And I owe it to Liam and Aiden to be ready, because they’re going to bring their best. But I will bring mine.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle, "I’ve been underestimated my whole career. Called the shadow, the underdog, the kid brother. That ends here. That ends at Climax Control. Because I’m not just fighting for a win... I’m fighting to prove that every person who ever thought I wasn’t ready was wrong. Every man in that ring, Aiden, Liam, they’re going to see exactly what I’m capable of. No shortcuts. No excuses. Just LJ Kasey, leaving it all in the ring.”
He straightened, the camera catching the fire in his gaze, "And me? I’ve got the kind of drive that doesn’t show on paper. Doesn’t get applauded in pre-shows. Doesn’t make headlines until the moment you’re forced to notice it. I’m not just another kid in the match. I’m LJ Kasey. I’ve been tested, I’ve been broken, I’ve been knocked down... and I’ve come back sharper every time.”
“I’ve spent my whole career being underestimated. They see the last name, they see the shadow of my brother, and they write me off before the bell even rings. That ends here. At Climax Control, it’s not about anyone else’s expectations. It’s about me. Every drop of sweat, every bruise, every punch I’ve taken... it all leads to this. I’m not just stepping out of a shadow. I’m carving my own path. I’m taking my shot, and I’m going to leave it all in that ring. Aiden, Liam... I hope you’re ready. Because I am.”
He leaned back against the ropes, taking a deep breath, letting the tension roll off his shoulders just enough to collect himself, "This is the end of the year, the last big moment, and I won’t waste it. Liam, Aiden... I’m coming for you and I won’t stop until it’s done.”
“And Bill...I hope you are watching every moment because I’m coming after you next.”
