“Keys is Magic”
As another week passes so does the chance to do something great. Ryan Keys soon found himself in the low lighted strip club he calls home. Violent Conduct III was his next objective, and he was ready to take it on, though his performance lately hasn’t been at its finest. Or better yet, his performances have been sabotaged by an envious brute known as Casey Williams, a man that feels the need to slow Ryan’s chances at greatness, just so the spotlight can fall on him. But that moment will never come, no matter how hard Williams and the rest try. How does the saying go? Greatness is often imitated, though never replicated? Something like that. They always come crawling back on all fours to behold what is Ryan Keys. A challenge rose up, a stage set, a match was made. At Violent Conduct III, SCW witnesses a match the first of it’s kind; a Coal Miner’s Glove match. Yet another match destined for Ryan to win, his past acting as a strong advantage. But two others stood in his way to victory. Stave Ramone and Caleb Houston are set to play, but only one will truly entertain.
Gentleman’s club, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.
The applause of the audience died down as he kept himself in check before performing. A shot of Jungle Juice in his system, his hands balled into fists at his sides, he stood just behind the dividing wall, one little piece of satin coated plaster that divided him and his mind from those of all who came to see him perform. Soon enough, his name was announced, one that, though not given, had become as familiar to him as if he’d been born with it. There were no nerves, no fright of the stage or the hundred of eyes that would soon be on him. Whether in the ring or on that stage, he was at home there. At last, he took his place on stage as the soft flow of music to began to spill from the speakers, the volume of it, nowhere near comparing to the swell of the crowd.
Once it started he took a step forward and looked around, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces, the scent, the vibes of their anticipation all working through him, adding fuel to the fire that had started within him. This was his time. Taking another step, he reaches down to tug at the front of his pants, a subtle, yet foreshadowing movement that pulled a swell of whooping from the crowd. At the first beat, he let his hips sway as if of their own volition, getting a feel for the tempo, letting it course through him. His gaze focuses on the crowd, his splayed hands roaming over his body in an enticingly slow motion. He teased the audience with sensual touches over his tattooed muscles and suggestive tugs on his clothing. The music picked up, his body rolling in time with the song, hands drifting above his head. He felt relaxed, at home with the small cheers and suggestions to show his body.
A smile ghosted across his lips as he lifted his black, purposefully torn shirt so the movement of his body can be seen, each ripple of his toned abdomen. Once the cheering reached it peak, he tugged off his shirt, throwing it towards the wanting crowd. Hands reached and tugged, everyone trying to get a piece of the already ruined fabric. The excitement he created only fed his slowly growing ego, like he was the most desired man in the place. His head couldn't possibly grow any bigger.
Strutting his way back down the catwalk, every step loose and easy, measured by the beat, he detours toward the pole in the center, a strong hand slipping around it. Leaning back onto the heel of one foot, he swings his center of balance, his body gliding in one full rotation. But he wasn’t ready to tango with his old friend, not yet. Caressing the cold steel once, he steps back, moving as though he were going to exit the stage entirely. But at the last moment, he stops and turns, half-throwing himself at the slicked stage, and in one fluid motion as the bass drops, his body thundering in time with it. On all fours now, moving with a quickened pace, he draws his knees in and out, propelling him back toward the front of the stage. The crowd went wild with the new invigoration. Each one hoping to get caught under him. Working his way toward the end of the stage, he paused just at the edge to spin himself, then leans back and kicks his legs forward, launching himself back to his feet. Thumbs slipping into the belt loops of his baggy jeans, he pushes them down just enough to reveal the telltale sign of straps hidden beneath. A knowing smirk on his face as he winds his hips to the motion,knowing exactly which ways to move to draw the reactions he wanted. Walking back the brunette grabbed the metal pole and swings his body again, this time stopping short in front of it. How close he was to the metal object sent waves of jealousy across the room at how intimate they were. Slowly grinding against it, biting his lips at the action, he rocks and rides it, the love affair he once shared with it, reignited. His muscles bundled at the new grip as Ryan started to climb, his body and core in perfect sync using no effort in moving. His body flooded with the sensation of warm honey as muscle memory slowly sank into him, reminding him of the many nights he’d spent carrying out these same motions, caressing this same beautifully crafted iron. It felt… Right. So familiar. With a sharp twist and turn, he descends, undoing the button of his baggy jeans. The beat of the music matches the way he rolled his body and gyrated his hips with his jeans open, abdominals working as the routine continues. Slow grinds, sensual touches, and endless teases came from the young superstar as he entertained his crowd.
With the song reaching it’s end Ryan moved around to soak up the moment for as long as he could, waltzing the perimeter of the stage, urging the crowd to beg him for more.His bare skin showed under his strap as he went back to the pole once more, readying himself for the grand finale. This time he showed his incredible strength as he gripped the pole and lifted his body off the floor and held it horizontally using his hardened core. The crowd cheered wildly as the song comes to an end and the lights go out, leaving him there shrouded in darkness, his heart roaring as loud as the crowd. Adrenaline thrummed through him. He was ready to take on whatever the company threw at him.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
The crowd can still be heard from the heavy curtain separating the stage and the chaoticness that was the back stage area of a gentleman’s club. A place were performers prepared themselves to show their true potential as an entertainer, while others resorted to other methods of getting what they wanted. This was Ryan’s world, a world where you take what you want and do what it’s necessary to keep it. And that was no different from the life he had in the ring. While traveling under the SCW promotion the young superstar quickly learns how things worked, and adapted to how the game was played. Yet he still had to perform. Seminude and with a heated body from his performance he made his way to the locker rooms. This small getaway night slowly came to a close as the rush from the crowd soon left his body, and thoughts of his match slowly sunk in.
A Coal Miners glove match, at Violent Conduct III.
The site of Ryan’s next conquest of global entertainment. And this time there is no one to blindside him as he makes it to the top of the company.
“One night, one match, thousands of outcomes to come from it. But out of all those outcomes, I stand over all. A challenge was made. And I gladly answered it without a second thought. The need for violence was slowly setting in, I need someone to break. Better yet two. Caleb Houston and Steve Ramone will soon learn how hard a person’s rage can hit once they are driven the way I am. At the Coal Miner’s Glove match I will come out on top.”
The brunette sat near a lighten up mirror, making his skin glow with no flaws as the fantasy that is Ryan Keys was still in effect. With a deep breath thoughts of the match rushed in. Must were uncertain.
“A coal Miners glove match. I can’t say I’m familiar with this one, but one thing is very clear. There is a ring, a pole, a crowd, and a match to be won. And that’s exactly what I plan to do. I maybe a little over qualified to be in this match, but I can be more than fair. Yet we all know that I can retrieve that glove at any second that I choose. And with no one there competent enough to stop me, this match can be over quickly. Then again, I’m still a fighter. So who are the two that dare come out and face against me?”
As the cards were shown Cal Houston and challenger Steve Ramone were the other two participants destined to be buried in coal as the diamond known as Ryan shined.
“First things first I'd like to point out that Casey Williams in no longer a threat to me. He wouldn’t dare interrupt a pay per view match, much less one for the history books as SCW’s first. Mark Ward and Christian Underwood wouldn’t be too pleased if he did. Not that they are with him anyway. And much less with one of my opponents, Caleb Houston. A man that was made to shaken the tag division of SCW and pioneer a new era. But fate had other plans for him. terrible decisions, horrible choices and over all bad company kept him from being so much more in this business. Now the tag competitor sets his sights on singles action against two of SCW’s premier quality competitors. There is only one was to describe Caleb in this match and that is that he is way out of his league. No matter how much he tries it takes a lot more to take on people who fight on their own.”
Yet high hopes for the man were still being shown. Maybe he would show some worth after all.
“And last we have Steve Ramone. A man that thinks he still has what it takes to liven up the crowd with lack luster performances and excuses as to way he’s not on top. There is just one explanation for that, and that is that Steve is not cut out to be at the top. His time has passed, his fame has faded. His only redeeming quality was that he held the SCW Roulette title around his waist. But even then he had to ruin that quality by childishly trying to be what he wasn’t anymore."
“This isn’t a game anymore boys. The competitions are stepping up and some just won’t make the cut anymore. High performance is the challenge. And I have been giving it 100% of the time. Much like the rest, but unlike them my chances to win have been taken away from me by someone else’s fault, not my own. So in this match I will dominate. I will climb that pole, retrieve that Glove and show the SCW crowd how violent a man can be when pushed over the edge not one, not twice, but three times. Violent Conduct III wouldn’t be more fitting for Ryan Keys to set history."
"And All should be watching”
Stage lights get cut off, as they slowly work their way backstage to where the locker rooms are. Soon Ryan’s mirror light are the only lights on until the scene ends abruptly.
