The Arrival
The New York Wolfslair gym never really slept.
It just breathed.
Low fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, casting pale reflections across the worn mats. The smell of old sweat, leather, and determination lingered in the air like a second skin. Heavy bags swayed slightly from the impacts they’d absorbed long before today.
Aiden stood in front of the mirror. Wrapped fists. Tight jaw. Narrowed eyes. The man staring back at him felt unfamiliar. He wasn’t bruised. He wasn’t broken. But he wasn’t confident either. He rolled his shoulders once, adjusting the wrap on his right hand, then stepped toward the heavy bag. Punch. The sound echoed through the gym. Punch. Again. Harder. The bag swung back with every strike, taunting him, daring him to hit harder. He did. Each impact carried something ugly inside him.
Doubt. Frustration. Failure. He stepped back, resting his taped hands against the bag, forehead pressing lightly into the leather. “I don’t know when I started feeling like this.” The words slipped out quietly. Almost ashamed. Behind him, Austin leaned casually against the ring post, arms crossed. He’d said nothing so far. He didn’t need to. He could see it written all over Aiden’s body. The stiffness. The hesitation. The tension. Austin pushed off the post and walked closer, boots tapping softly against the mat. “I keep trying to tell myself I’m just in a rough patch. But it feels like more than that.”
He lifted his head slightly but avoided the mirror.
“When was the last time you actually rested?”
Aiden let out a tired laugh through his nose. “Mentally? Or physically?”
Austin stopped beside him. “Either.”
Silence. Aiden pulled his forehead off the bag. “I don’t let myself rest. Because when I rest… I think.” He flexed his fingers slightly inside the wraps. “And when I think, I start wondering if this is it. If I’ve already peaked and I just can’t accept it.”
Austin rested his hands on the heavy bag next to Aiden’s. “You haven’t peaked.” Aiden didn’t respond. “You’re just tired of losing.”
That landed harder than the punches. “…Yeah.” Aiden turned his head slightly. “I used to handle it better. I’d lose and I’d go train harder. “Now…”He hesitated. “Now I just feel like walking into a bar and letting myself disappear for a night.” Austin stayed quiet. Letting him say it. Letting him own it. “I haven’t.. But I think about it more than I should.”
Austin nodded slowly. “Thoughts aren’t failures. Actions are.”
Aiden exhaled. “I stood outside one last week. Didn’t go in.” He shrugged slightly. “Didn’t feel like a victory.”
“It was.”
Aiden finally looked up at the mirror again. The reflection still looked tired. But it didn’t look lost. “I don’t want to be that man. My kids deserves better than that.”
Austin let a faint smile show. “Then keep choosing better.”
A small nod from Aiden. “…Alright.”
He stepped back from the bag. Hands raised again. This time, the punches came faster. Sharper. Cleaner. Not fueled by anger anymore. Fueled by purpose. Until footsteps echoed toward them. Fast. Urgent. And then: “Aiden.”
He froze mid-motion. Slowly turning. Alex stood near the entrance of the training area. Hands on his hips. Chest rising and falling harder than it should’ve been. “What’s wrong?”
Alex walked closer. “Your phone’s in your locker.”
“Yeah… I didn’t want distractions.”
Alex stopped a few steps away. The words didn’t come immediately. When they did, they hit like a hammer. “Kallie’s in labour.”
The world tilted. Aiden blinked. “What?”
“She called the gym.”
Aiden’s hands dropped. Breathing turned shallow. “SHIT!!!!.”
Alex shook his head slightly. “She’s at the hospital. They said it’s happening fast.”
Panic lit up inside Aiden instantly. “I wasn’t there. I left her.”
Austin stepped in immediately, gripping Aiden’s shoulder firmly. “Hey.”
Aiden’s chest started moving too fast. “What if something happens? What if she’s scared?. What if I miss it?”
Austin moved in front of him, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Breathe.” He showed him how. Slow. Controlled. Aiden mirrored it, barely. “You’re not missing this.”
Alex stepped closer, placing a hand on Aiden’s other shoulder. “You’re not failing. You’re getting there.”
Aiden shook his head. “I don’t feel ready.”
Austin didn’t soften. “You never feel ready….no matter how many times you go through it. You just show up.”
Aiden let out a broken laugh. “…I’m terrified.”
Alex nodded. “Good. Means you care.”
Aiden ripped the tape from his wrists. Letting it fall to the mat. He grabbed his bag. Hands shaking. “Don’t let me spiral.”
Austin nodded immediately.b“Not happening.” Alex stepped close beside him.
“You’re not alone.”
Aiden swallowed hard and nodded. “…Okay.” They walked toward the exit together. Three men moving as one. The gym humming behind them. The heavy bag still swaying. Waiting. Aiden’s heart pounded harder with every step.
Fear.
Hope.
Panic.
Love.
He wasn’t ready. He didn’t feel strong. But he wasn’t alone. And right now, that had to be enough.
Failure
The flicker of the start point of a recording draws our attention. Aiden Reynolds, his hair slicked back, a short beard on his face from not shaving in a few weeks, his eyes sunken in from lack of sleep. He takes a deep breath and takes a moment before finally breaking the silence.
”I have no idea what to say here…”
He paused. The silence of the hotel room seems to hang in the air and make things even more intense. The sound of his breath breaking it now and again.
”I’m a failure. I had my opportunity to become the world champion. I’ve had many opportunities to become the world champion. And I failed. I still maintain everything I’ve said about Carter was true. He shouldn’t be the world champion. If you look at his attitude and what he’s been capable of, he isn’t the man to lead this company and he isn’t someone who should be holding the most prestigious prize in the wrestling world. Someone who can’t acknowledge the successes of other people all because he would rather act like he is the future while constantly playing the underdog is not what this company needs. It’s not what this company deserves. It deserves a leader and a champion who is going to do everything in their power to elevate the company and the championship, but that is not Carter.”
“And apparently… It’s not me either.”
“I told the world that I was going to end him, that I was going to snatch up that world championship and bring it home and be a champion that everyone could be proud of. I was going to rule the SCW men’s division with an iron fist and bring it back to the glory days. The days of Austin, Alex, Ferris, Mac Bane, Jack Washington, Finn Whelan. I was going to make sure that their memories were remembered because they were real world champions. But, in the end, I ended up failing them as well as failing myself and my family.”
“Losses should have consequences. They should matter.”
“What do you people want from me? Do you want me to just get over it? Do you want me to pretend like losing to Carter meant nothing? I’ve seen it happen time and time again, someone loses a big match in this company and then the very next time you see them they are making outlandish promises about being the champion or winning their next match, almost like the loss they just had didn’t matter. Well, I’m not like that. This loss, this failure, it hurts. I deserve to be a world champion but now I’ll never know what it feels like in this company. I’ve been a champion in other places but the SCW World Heavyweight Championship is a prize that now I will never hold. I’m not going to stick around here and continue knocking on that door. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to put up with this bullshit. And now I don’t even want to be a professional wrestler. Congratulations SCW, congratulations Carter, you have broken me.”
He pauses again and takes a long deep breath. The silence returns and starts to fill the air. Making it thick with tension. So thick that it’s hard to breathe, so thick that it’s hard to do anything but push against the weight and pressure bearing down upon him.
”So, if that is how I feel then why am I still here? Why am I getting ready to punish myself like this? I love professional wrestling. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember. In a world and a family where I didn’t have a lot in common with my father, being able to sit down and bond over something like wrestling was truly special. But now, something that I loved I’ve grown to hate. I hate this business. I hate this company. And most of all I fucking hate myself. Because there is nothing worse on this planet than failing at something that you love. If you have a job that you don’t like, that you are just doing to pay the bills and you fail at it? That is an easier pill to swallow than the one that is being forced down your throat and something that you are made to choke on. Choking on the failure of love is something that destroys a man.”
“And that’s where I am in life. And now I’m expected to turn up to Climax Control and simply smile and play the part of the happy professional wrestler. I’m supposed to shrug and congratulate Carter and simply ignore the fact that I have just failed again. That is legitimately what this company wants me to do. They want me to forget everything I’ve said and everything I’ve done and they want me to be like every single other pinhead that this company has produced. They want me to be like my old friend Eddie Lyons. They want me to be like Miles Kasey. They want me to simply smile and move on.”
“Move on….”
“Move on to what? To whom? I am here to fulfil my contractual obligations. And in doing so I’m facing a rookie in his second match in this company. And why, why? Who exactly is Ciaran Doyle to me? Who is he to anyone? He beat Branden Williams last week, a kid who fancies himself as being the future, who is related to Todd Williams. But now he’s facing me. And last time any of you saw me, I was competing for a world championship and now I’m facing a kid in his second match in this company after just beating the progeny of a wrestling family that hasn’t been relevant in a decade.”
Aiden laughs to himself, but not a laugh of amusement or one of disbelief. No, this is a laugh of frustration and pain. A knee-jerk reaction of someone who is living a lie. Someone who just wants the camera to be shut off and the pain to go away. His eyes glaze over the table in front of him to the small mini fridge in the hotel room. But he snaps back to reality just in time. Focusing himself on the task at hand.
”This, this is the part where I’m supposed to sell you on this match. Why I’m supposed to make people care and make people want to watch it and make people tune into Climax Control. But I don’t have it in me. Mainly because I know nothing about my opponent. I know his name, I know he’s from Ireland. I know he has wavy long hair and has the body of a model. And I know he beat Brayden Williams. But that’s it. That’s all I know about him. He calls himself Celtic Thunder, he seems like someone who is put together and is physically fit and maybe he wants to make a great play at being a champion in this company so maybe that’s what I need to do. Maybe I need to give him a little bit of advice.”
“Make sure you don’t care, Ciaran. Make sure you don’t turn it inward. Make sure that you don’t have the love for this business that you would like to believe yourself to have. You can love this business all you want but it doesn’t really mean anything. This business doesn’t care if you love it, this business doesn’t care if you put every single part of your heart and soul into it and this business does not care that your mental health is tied to your success. When the bright lights are on and those fans are cheering you, you are going to be in the moment and you are going to love it but do you know what happens afterwards? Do you know what happens afterwards when you fail and those lights slowly go down to nothing and all of those fans shuffle out of that building and go on with their lives? When that happens, then you’ll have to pick up the pieces.”
“You are left to go back to a quiet hotel room, away from your friends and family, and you will look in the mirror and you will not see anything. You will not feel anything. Because as I said, I love this business, but I have long come back from the realisation that this business is just that. A business. Soulless, empty, driven by money and greed. Every person like myself who wants to be real, there are millions of others who just want to make money and who will never ever be true to themselves, who just want to lie like Carter.”
“What kind of man are you, Ciaran? Hmm? Are you looking to kick me while I’m down? Are you looking to talk to me like you respect what I’ve accomplished while also downplaying it and throwing it back in my face that I just competed? You should be careful with that, if you drag me down too much then if you beat me, you’ve made your win mean nothing. But if I beat you? I already know that that win doesn’t mean anything. You are new here, you’ve had one win, you’re a nobody. And I don’t mean that in an insulting way, I literally mean that as far as the fans are concerned, as everyone else in this company is concerned, you are nobody. You’ve accomplished nothing and you’ve done nothing. Meanwhile, I’ve held championships and I’ve fought for the world championship. So I lose to you? Congratulations, you get a huge win to kick off your career, but if I beat you? I get nothing. And that is a perfect microcosm of why this business is in the shit fucking state that it’s in.”
“I will turn up on Sunday. But I’ll be very clear on this, while I will physically be there, mentally I’m sorry. I just don’t give a fuck any more.”
