PARADIGM SHIFT VIII // INITIATIONWHO WILL YOU FOLLOW WHEN THE WORLD FADES TO THE GRAY? WHERE CAN I TURN WHEN THE WORLD GIVES UP ON ME?
CROWN THE EMPIRE
•••••• AFTER CLIMAX CONTROL 378
FLAGSTAFF, ARIZONA
[•] OFF-CAMERA
As they entered the backstage arena, a few people – not other wrestlers, wouldn’t you know it – congratulated them on their win. Someone handed Finn a towel for his face at some point and he swiped at it as he walked by, removing the excess blood. He wasn’t sure if he’d need stitches, but right now, he didn’t care. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and the gold that laid on his shoulder was a poignant reminder that he needed to press onward and forward, no matter the cost.
The cost.
Kayla appeared excessively smug as she clutched her Mixed Tag Title to her shoulder. That was the thing Finn knew about Kayla. It didn’t matter what championship she had, she’d treat it the same as every other championship: like it was the dearest thing to her and it was her job to elevate it. She might have called the Roulette Championship a “special school” championship, but if it were in her hands? It would be the most important thing she held.
As they approached the area in which the locker rooms were set up, she turned to him, reaching out her hand briefly for him to shake. She had been remarkably professional about this whole thing – no matter their personal feelings towards one another of distrust and dislike. He took it, and she shook it once, before dropping her hand.
“Another one down, right?” Kayla questioned. “Did it feel good to get that over on Kasey?”
In response, he pointed at his own head with a jabbed finger. “I think he got one over on me.”
She snorted, “Maybe, but that’s what will make getting the championship from him in the future even more sweet. The chance to jab his face into the mat and stomp on it…” Her lips curled up happily as she thought about it. “He had to go out there and say all the things that he couldn’t come up with before because he’s a weakass pansy. That’s what you did to him. We did. You got under his skin. Congratulations on being the villain.”
It was more words that she’d said consecutively in the six months since she’d moved out. Had it been that long? Almost a year since the last Christmas they’d spent together curled up in his room. Since the last moment that they’d actually gotten along, and everything was comfortable.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he replied.
They stood awkwardly for a moment. A long time ago, they might have said something along the lines of getting something to eat, heading back to the hotel, then going their separate ways. This felt a bit like that, but at the end of the day, neither wanted to be the first to go running back into the arms of the person they’d rejected. She broke the silence, tilting her head slightly to the right and letting her eyes float up to the gash on his forehead.
“Don’t leave here before you get that checked.” She said, and she didn’t bother giving him an opportunity to say goodbye. She opened the door to the women’s locker room and sauntered in, not giving a flying fuck that everyone in there hated her anyway.
Finn nodded then, turning on his heel and heading not in the direction of his locker room, but to the team of paramedics that Sin City regularly employed in case of injury. They were in the process of packing up when he entered the makeshift room, and they chortled when they saw him.
“Champ! We were wondering’ when we were going’ to see ya,” the taller of the two, and the one more clearly equipped to be of service clapped Finn on the shoulder. He’d been a traveling paramedic with SCW now for a couple of years, a medic by the name of Jason. Or at least, that was what was labeled on his nametag. He patted the chair in front of him, rolled backwards on his stool, and then rooted around in his medic tackle box. He also happened to be the one that tended to him back last November when Finn was a complete fuckup and lost the World Championship.
“I thought about not coming,” Finn admitted. In the past, he wouldn’t have even done so. But Kayla said he should, so…
“Good on ya that you did. We can check for a concussion while we’re at it.” He nodded as Finn sat down, and took an alcohol wipe to his forehead. “Not a big ol’ gash, we’ll just put some Second Skin on it. Wonder where it would have gone if Kayla hadn’t finished the match the way she had. You and Kasey, man…excellent sportsmanship.”
Finn raised his eyebrow. He glanced up to the other paramedic, an Asian, who was surveying the scene in front him quietly. It was kind of suspicious, Finn thought. Usually they all went to help when someone came to them. This one just seemed interested in what was going on and what was said. He recognized him from somewhere.
“Kayla rolled up Alexandra. That’s all.”
Jason the Paramedic raised his own eyebrow. “Feet on the ropes.”
Finn felt distinct irritation rising up in his bones. Of course. That’s why she was looking so smug about it. He sighed inwardly. He knew Kayla didn’t have the same trepidation he did about cheating, but he inwardly wondered if this was the hill that he wanted to die on – especially if they were starting to get along well again.
I will do anything to get the job done.
She said that before they went out, prior to the match. She was teeth gritted, anger blazing, and prepared to do anything and everything to keep the mixed tag team titles in her grasp. She belittled and destroyed, as she was the hurricane that went through her own life and her career. Powerful, but no one seemed to want to give her credit.
He allowed the man to stitch him up and then rose to his feet. He peered once more at the Asian man, who exited the room, and then he grabbed his championship. “Thanks.”
“No prob, man.”
Finn exited the makeshift room, but stopped abruptly as the Asian Paramedic stood in front of him. They stared at one another, neither moving, nor saying a thing, before the man bowed slightly, and muttered, “Mottomo kurai yoru ni wa, mottomo kasuka na hikari ga mabushīdesu.”
The hairs on the back of Finn’s neck stood on end. He paused, composed himself inwardly and then grit his teeth. “Tell Kei to fuck off.”
••••••
We meet again, this time with a defense strongly embedded in the recent past. As we get further and further into this, the fuzzy edges that came with Kayla and I winning those championships start getting a bit more clearer, and it makes more sense. As the days to December 2 Dismember tick away, we have the opportunity to prove our worth and our candor. Limitless continues to…underwhelm, while we continue to overbear.
I’m not going to fill this time talking about the lackluster performance of the Mixed Tag Team Champions. I have a lot more I want to say, but I think I'm going to wait until it’s the right time to say anything about Eiley and Oz.
I do want to address the elephant in the room…and that would be Miles Kasey’s little tantrum before calling out Austin James Mercer.
Pedantic.
Churlish.
And if you don’t get those words, Miles, then it’s simply said as: childish. I let you get in a win over me. You and I both know this. I didn’t show up like I needed to be because, fuck, I wasn’t in the mindset that I wanted anything. But now? You want to run your mouth on live television and make sure that you pull your balls up to your throat so everyone can see them because you think you’re something special? Carter pats you on the head and tells you you’re a good little boy and you waggle your tail and think you’re something.
I didn’t need Kayla to revitalize my career. I got forced into this and I forced myself to make something of this predicament I got slammed into. When you think about it, I was dealt a hand that required my failure, that isolated me from choosing my own path. When I am handed lemons, I don’t just make lemonade – I make the best damn fucking concoction I can and shove it down the throats of everyone around me so that they believe the very same aptitude.
If you want to mouth off, go ahead. You have the backing of someone who has far more skill and power than you do, and you, while you’re flouncing around with that Internet Championship, are going to realize that you’ve popped off to the wrong people. Austin will lay you out flat, mate, just because he doesn’t like you. Whether you win or lose, I want another opportunity to do the same. If it’s for the championship and you still carry it after your match with Mercer, then it’s even more saccharine sweet.
I didn’t need Kayla like you needed Carter to give you relevancy beyond being the kid that everyone picked so they could get a cheap win. I needed a fucking reason to remember why I’m here, why I loved this sport. It’s not a person, it’s not people, it’s the thrill of the fight.
You missed the fucking cue, mate. I said you had potential. Past tense. In the past. I know you’ve gotten a few fuckin’ kicks to the head in the past, but I’m going to say this now, in the present tense, is what I believe.
I believed in you, kid. I fought for you. I pushed for you, I did a lot of shit behind the scenes to help you, and you all but threw it in my face.
You don’t know what kind of enemy you’ve made in me, Miles.
Just like everyone else in this company doesn’t know what kind of a monster they’re going to get week in and week out. Give me something to latch onto, and I will be diving down your throat.
Learn it now, Sin City. You put me in the division I’m in because you know how much drive I have, how easily I can push myself and become the champion of the World again. I can lay claims on what I want, and I will do so week in and week out until it’s given to me.
I will fight a thousand of your best until you realize I am your best.
Are you listening?
Maybe I’ll take a note from Kayla and just do what needs to be done. No matter the cost.
••••••
FINN’S HOME FOR WAYWARD WRESTLERS
NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK
[•] OFF-CAMERA
Thanksgiving. The time of year that Americans seem to remind each other that they need to be grateful and thankful for the things that they have. Finn took a quick trip up to Seattle to see his sister before he returned back on the holiday in New York. He’d just parked his car in the underground lot, arrived at the elevator that would take him to the floor he owned, and finally he’d be able to just relax and watch something on television before he needed to take off on Saturday for Arizona. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and pressed the button for the doors to open.
When they did, there was a split second panic that erupted through his body because two men with military grade rifles stepped out of the elevator and stood on either side of him. But as he stared forward, the only thing he could see was the blonde hair and noseband of the man he’d been avoiding for years now. With a slow exhalation, he sucked in his teeth and looked directly at the man.
“Really? Did you expect me to shiv you in the elevator?” He retorted somewhat sarcastically.
“You did tell me through the associate to fuck off, if I so remember. Cannot be too careful.” Kei Hideshima responded, a smirk on his face as Finn stepped into the elevator and stood next to him.
“I meant it too.”
“Disheartening…” Kei replied, though he didn’t sound quite broken up about it. “I have come to ask you again, and I figured myself coming to you might be a change from the norm. We used to be a strong team, Callien.”
“We’re stooping to house calls? How low.” Finn replied, and watched as Kei smiled. “We are not a team, and I figured at one point or another, you’d stop trying to invest in me and find some other stupid sod to make a name off of. Might I suggest to you Eddie Lyons?”
Kei chuckled, and shook his head. “No. Though the rest of your…family…”
Finn snapped his head and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You stay the fuck away from all of them.” He snarled, just as the elevator dinged. He hoped his vehemence would at least remotely surprise Kei, but all it did was make him smile a bit more as he followed Finn out into the hallway. As Finn fumbled for his keys, Kei folded his hands in front of his body and waited for him to open the door. “There’s nothing more to talk about,” he argued, ramming the keys in the slot. “I don’t want to be a pawn, or to have my life constantly threatened by rival families.” I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”
“For you to–”
“FINNNNNN!!!!” The cheerful squeal of Kallie Reynolds reverberated loudly in the hallway as Kallie flung open the door, forcing Finn to stumble in slightly. She wore an apron, one decked out in Thanksgiving turkeys that were missing heads, and she clapped her hands. “You’re home! I didn’t think you’d be home so we’re using the dining room and kitchen, but I was going to clean it out.”
She hugged the Seattle Saint (despite his dislike of being touched) and then looked at Kei. “Oh! You brought someone along with you, that’s awesome! Hi! I’m Kallie, come in, come in,” she grinned, hugging him too. Finn cringed.
“Kei.” He replied, calmly.
“You can eat with us too!”
“Why, of course.” Kei smiled politely, shooting Finn an expression that said, Well now you’re stuck.
Finn grit his teeth and headed inside. He heard all of them. The dining room was full. Kallie loved to entertain, and she often invited everyone she knew. “Aiden was just bringing in the turkey,” she cooed, pointing at the dining room. “You guys go sit.”
Uncomfortably, Finn turned the corner. Already seated at the table was Dickie, who was seated next to Amelia, with Dax on his other side. Aiden was in the kitchen and Kallie had disappeared. She’d also invited Tasmin Richards, her husband Adam, and their little one, Dawn. Sitting on the opposite side of them made Finn’s throat close up.
Kayla.
She appeared just as uncomfortable as he was.
Kei slipped past him and presumptuously took the seat at the head of the table, and the only seat left was next to Kayla. Finn grit his teeth and sat down. He looked at Dickie, who looked at Kei strangely and glanced back at his “older brother”. Dickie was no stranger to the shateigashira, and he knew the story intimately. Too intimately.
“She didn’t say you were going to be here,” Kayla hissed at him.
“I wasn’t.”
“No Emily?” She quipped snarkily.
Finn snapped his head up to look at her and narrowed his eyes. “No. She can go fuck herse–”
“Food’s ready!!!!” Kallie called, bringing a basket of bread rolls in and placing it down on the table as Aiden followed with a massive turkey that was ready to be sliced. She was also completely oblivious to the somewhat tense feeling that had settled within the room. Aiden paused when he stood in the center of the doorway, staring at Kei with trepidation on his features. Kallie sat down and smiled, encouraging her husband to bring the turkey over with widened, threatening eyes. He did so, and then sat down next to Finn.
Aiden was oddly quiet for the entirety of the meal, in which Kallie forced small talk with everyone, regardless of if they wanted to talk. Kei listened quietly to everyone, watching their interactions like a hawk watches his prey. Amelia evaded the question of if she was dating Dickie and changed the subject immediately, and Dawn and Dax were handed just enough mashed potatoes to sling at each other across the table and cackle.
The Japanese man’s eyes caught Finn’s as he glanced down the table. He knew those cogs of his were turning, and he didn’t know what he would have to do to keep them safe.
Kei the Collector.
It was the strangest Thanksgiving Finn had ever participated in, and found himself honestly wishing he’d stayed in Seattle another day. Then, perhaps, he wouldn’t have been the idiot that led Kei Hideshima to every single important person in his life.
••••••
I asked for a match and perhaps I should be thankful that it was received. I know it’s easy to get narrow vision when you’re booking matches and note that a tag champion exists to kind of…only work as a tag champion. But I’m the type of man that likes to do the opposite of what is expected, and despite the desire to see me only work as a tag team worker, I want to make sure I remind everyone of who the fuck I am on a regular basis.
You see, any of you watching this know my history well enough. I’m decorated as fuck, and I could bring up every championship that I’ve ever had. However, I’m not going to because you didn’t come to see me toot my own fuckin’ horn that much. So let’s just settle on the fact that I’m good. That’s what brought me to this championship, the World Heavyweight Championship and the Roulette Championship all within a few matches. I’m something like eight-five, but you know what?
I don’t really give a rat’s because I know for a fact that all my losses equal all the times that I haven’t given a shit.
And unfortunately for all of you, that time is not any time soon.
You read the pretty words on the screen when they announced this match? SCW seems to think that I’m not capable of wrestling on my own anymore, and that is a damn fucking shame. Just because I got thrust into working with Kayla doesn’t mean that tag team wrestling is the only place I want to be. It’s unfortunate, really – I carry all of these fucking accolades in this company and they’ve relegated me to being a tag teamer only.
Disappointing.
Time to flip the script, don’t you think?
I asked for this match because I wanted to continue being visible within this company. And when it was granted, I felt a happiness spread its way through my chest and I felt like I could smile not because I saw my opponent, but because I was finally able to fight on my own again. To rise and make sure that people like Miles Kasey were gutted because I could stand on my own two feet again.
And then I checked the email I got and it told me I was facing Dubois. An “Iconic” Dubois, even more so. A man I’d never heard of except for failing miserably against Raven Three. So I scoured the dredges of the internet – X-witter, of course – and found that the man was booked in that fucking cesspool ran by Chris Page and his sycophantic cunts.
I swear, I’m going to need penicillin shots and possibly whole body chemical peels to get the feeling of grime off of my skin for having to look at anything involving that shithole.
So let’s get into it.
I don’t know where this man came from, but I just really feel that this is a man who has taken on civil rights as his gimmick. I mean, the name comes from W. E. B. Du Bois, clearly, a man who fought for equality and opposed segregation in education. Top notch motherfucker, if I do say so myself. But to take that on as who you present yourself to be in one of the most accepting of all sports, and use This Is America by Childish Gambino? I think you’re pushing your luck.
But that’s not the picture you painted in Cesspool1. There, you were an accomplished wrestler, fighting in various matches and being the show stealer…for three months. You won the Boiler Room Brawl, and fought your way into the Cannabis Cup, and…I mean you lost on the first night. And then all of a sudden, you appear to be…
…well, retired.
I don’t know if it's news to you that you have a match in Arizona with SCW, and if you don’t, well…
Surprise?
I mean, it’s probably an extremely awful surprise. Not only am I probably one of the most violent wrestlers on the SCW roster, I’ve had a couple of decently annoyed days in the past few days. That means I’m salivating for a fight, and I don’t know if you’re going to be able to handle that. Because what it looks like to me was that you were doing relatively well for a bit, lost two matches, and fucked off to nowhere.
And here? Alexander Raven made you submit two weeks ago, and you haven’t been seen since. Last year, I may have said that it was a small feat to be ousted by Raven, but the truth of the matter is the man has grown into a decent fucking wrestler and has done a damn good job…so you getting submitted by him? I mean, I’d tuck and leave because I failed so miserably against someone that has been very prepared for this company.
So what are you going to do, Dubois?
Are you going to show up for the match? I hope you do. I’d like to repeat the same match. I know this company isn’t into the whole deathmatch persona, but I’m in a mood.
I don’t like being pigeonholed. And I don’t like assumptions being made on my behalf.
Perhaps it’s the best moment to remind everyone in this company that I am far more capable than where I’ve been placed.
When it comes to December 2 Dismember, I’ll be ready to defend this championship. And tonight? I’m going to remind all of you where I also belong.
See you soon, Dubois.
You’ll need every bit of luck to stay an icon.
••••••
FINN’S HOME FOR WAYWARD WRESTLERS
NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK
[•] OFF-CAMERA
Finn stood outside on the balcony one more time, his fingers clenched into the concrete railing, his nails embedded themselves into the grit. It was freezing out here, but he couldn’t handle being inside with everyone. He looked in, watching as Dickie helped Aiden clean dishes, Adam toddle after the children, and Kallie, Kayla and Tasmin talk in a strange triad of friendship that he hadn’t quite figured out yet. Kallie was the only one that didn’t really fit there – or was it Kayla? He wasn’t sure.
“A lovely…family…of sorts in there.” Kei commented, sliding out of the door and leaning against the balcony. “It makes sense why you would not want to join forces with me again. Now, you have much more at stake.”
“You don’t need me for any shit anymore, Kei.” Finn replied, keeping his eyes focused inside. Dickie didn’t need the chaos that came with Kei. Aiden had wrestled in Japan and probably narrowly avoided anything to do with the Yakuza. Kallie couldn’t be a target, and neither would Tasmin or the kids. And Kayla?
He’d rip off Kei’s face if he even thought about it.
“What is that French saying? Au contraire? I think that’s it. I do need you back on my side. You were ever so efficient, and if I am going to separate myself from the Hyazaki Clan, then I need someone smart and unassuming.” Kei turned his head.
“You’re trying to create your own clan?” Finn replied, dryly.
He supposed it made sense. Kei hadn’t been following orders for months now, if not years. He was not the oyabun, he was not the leader, and Kei was a man who was just as much an enigma as he was a murderer. He didn’t fit the shateigashira model anymore.
“I am,” he replied, leaning against the wall. “Could you imagine, Kyodai, no longer just being my right hand in name only, but in status? This home you have? You could have all of this, and more, if you would just reconsider.”
“I don’t want it.”
“No?” Kei chuckled, and then his eyes caught onto Kayla. “Because you have deluded yourself into thinking you need any of these people. Particularly her.” He tilted his head. “Not your type completely. I have watched the promos, you know. She is feisty. Fiery. Does not take anything and knows her place in the business. Your yang for her yin, so to speak.”
Finn clamped his mouth shut. He wasn’t about to give him ammunition.
“Callien, the indignation is disappointing. Once upon a time, I would say something about Aaron and you’d have me–”
“If I could, I’d hang you from the balcony by your lapels and after a time, let go and watch you splat on the ground.”
Kei laughed aloud, shaking his head and crossing his arms and his foot over the other. “But you cannot. Your friends would label you a murderer and then where would they be? Ah…but perhaps, without you, they could flourish. Dimitri would no longer be in your shadow, and Aiden could manage to fend for his own wife and child. And Kayla would have a man that–” He paused, but only because Finn turned entirely towards him and looked at him down his nose. There was not much of a height difference between the two, but when Finn could look quite imposing for a man who was barely two-hundred pounds, let alone his stature. “-- was invested in her success rather than hiding behind his own cockblock.”
“Nice. Did you learn that from television?”
“I believe it was Game of Thrones.”
“Very good vocab.”
“Thank you, Kyodai. As I said…” Kei pushed himself off the railing, nonplussed by Finn’s sarcasm and disdain. “I believe you haven’t reached your potential…but you could. You’re holding back. You’re not the same person that you were long ago…and perhaps that is a good and bad thing. But it is not helping you. I can bring back that sense of disdain in you. Not this…” he waved a hand at him, “constant belligerent attitude. All of this? You’re weak.”
“I’m in a much better mindframe than I have ever been. Not much bothers me, Kei.”
“No?” He questioned. “Then perhaps you are no longer of use to me. Perhaps I should go talk to Dimitri.” He smiled as Finn bristled. “Or Kayla. They might be interested in the benefits of working for me. After all, you did get a World Championship while you were working for me. Twice, if I remember.”
“Stay away from both of them,” Finn snarled. “I mean it. They don’t need your shit, and neither do I.”
“Hm…perhaps. The offer stands, Callien.” Kei nodded. “In the meantime, center yourself. Push for the limit, and then push past. You are capable of all things. I will…see…you soon.”
He smiled maliciously, and then left Finn standing out on the balcony. Alone. He watched as Kei said goodbye to Kallie and the women, bowed slightly to Kayla and then stopped to speak with Dickie who just nodded slightly. A hand outstretched from the Japanese shateigashira and patted him on the shoulder. And then, like that, he was gone.
Except Finn couldn’t help but feel that this was only the beginning of the worst.
