Las Vegas, Nevada was not known as the "City of Sin" simply for tourism purposes. It was called so because it was, in fact, a city that thrived on the vices of mankind, and where absolutely anything was a possibility in the eyes of the men and women who either called this spot of sinful decadence home, or who visited it as tourists. The city knew no bounds, and neither did the people within it's limits -- of which morally there were few to none. Las Vegas was, and is, a city that fed the seven vices that have been a bane to man since the beginning of times, where money was spent lavishly, and the lustful wishes that heated both the heart and loins were satisfied in every way possible ... and in some cases, ways that simply could not be explained.
It's one of the reasons why Las Vegas has been such a hot spot for the sport of professional wrestling throughout the years. It satisfied two of the most basic vices that have drawn people in to any form of entertainment that could be thought of; sex and violence. You put those two elements together, and you have a winning combination to lure people of all ages to these events that some call modern day gladiatorial combat. Where else would you see such men and women, pleasing to the eye with their pleasing faces and toned, athletic bodies, in skimpy attire doing battle with a member of their own gender. For men who fill the seats, the sight of two women locked in combat is an obvious source of arousal and always has been. Women might not be so apt to admit the same, but to see two men with movie star good looks and muscular bodies, clad in those skimpy little trunks, rolling around on the mat with one another does have a certain appeal that can not be denied.
And if you ask Christian Underwood, he'd tell you that with two muscular men in tight trunks, oiled up, rolling around on the mat or putting one another in odd holds and positions, well ... the simple fact is that professional wrestling itself is quite homo erotic and there's not much even the straightest of male competitors can do to deny that small observation. Well, to each their own. Christian has always been quite open about his sexuality and personal preferences, and if there was anyone around him that did not like it or felt it made them uncomfortable, that was there problem, not his own.
Ask anyone that has known him, whether it be personally or professionally, and they'll all tell you the one opinion they have in common about Christian Underwood is the fact that he's open and honest about everything. Do not ask his opinion on any subject if you are not prepared to hear the honest truth as he sees it. He is quick witted with what friends refer to as an 'acidic tongue'. One of his best friends, his manager the Goldenboy Gene Banton once referred to him as 'the Einstein of Smartasses'. Anyone who has gotten on his bad side could testify to this nickname. Many rivals in the business have attempted a battle of wits with this sharp tongued young man, and have come out on the losing end more often than not.
Yet for all his blunt tendencies, one other thing many of those closest to him will agree with, is the fact you couldn't find a nicer nor more loyal friend if you are lucky enough to get past his brusque exterior. Christian simply is a good man. He works tirelessly as a public advocate for gay rights, and has worked tirelessly to raise awareness and funds for several AIDS related charities. Although he does not have this deadly disease himself, he has lost friends to it and as such, he works long and hard to hopefully end this dangerous disease once and for all.
These are but a few small tidbits of information on this man who almost two years ago, helped start a fresh, new wrestling promotion alongside Hot Stuff Mark Ward. Although the two had worked together sporadically over the years in several promotions, the two were not at the time exactly what some would refer to as 'close friends'. Not yet, anyway. After much discussion, time, effort and monetary funds, Christian and Mark found a winning formula and Sin City Wrestling was born.
Now, almost two years later, these same two young men are fighting to reclaim everything that they have worked so tirelessly for. All the pain and stress, all the reward and gratification... everything was now under threat to no longer be called their own. Not since they made the error in judgment at hiring veteran Erik Staggs to the staff of Sin City Wrestling, and the conniving businessman made efforts to usurp everything they've worked for.
This is why we are here with you, today. Since the very beginning, Hot Stuff Mark Ward has been more in the public eye of SCW as opposed to his partner. Mark has worked more on camera and has competed in a number of high profile matches against the very best superstars and more often than not, he walked away in victory. Christian, on the other hand, had long preferred to take a more 'off camera' role as far as his staff duties. Over time, Christian slowly grew to become comfortable with his on camera role, but has not yet set foot inside of the SCW's six sided ring in an official capacity. He has yet to allow the fans a glimpse into his life the way that his friend and business associate has over these past two years, almost.
That is, until now. It's time for the fans of Sin City Wrestling to get a small look into the life of the other half of SCW's power brokering combination.
Christian didn't always call Las Vegas his home. For several years, San Francisco, California was where he was raised and referred to as his hometown. Adopted before he was even a year of age by Martha and Raymond Underwood, Christian called San Fran his home until he moved to Las Vegas to join the wrestling camp of Gene Banton.
It was still relatively early in the morning hours of Las Vegas, Nevada, having yet to even reach the hour of eight A.M.. The streets of this metropolis was just as hectic now as it was last night during the prime hours of city life. Many people were now getting ready to be on their way to work, or just getting home from either work or another fun filled night on the town. Others, however, were not even yet to stir themselves awake.
That's how we find things in the apartment home of Christian and his husband of many years, Scott Schreiner, known to wrestling fans as the Big Pump. This is not as grandiose as many other superstars of SCW are accustomed to. Men such as Mark Ward and Synn possess houses that could swallow Christian's home and still have much room left. Many have wondered why they don't move into bigger accommodations, as both could certainly afford it. The answer would be a simple one; neither truly wishes to. They are quite comfortable with the two bedroom apartment they have called home lo these many years, and see no reason to change their surroundings simply for the sake of social status. It is tastefully decorated, with minimal decor with influences from early American, save for that ghastly black leather recliner in the front room that Scott brought in as his own personal touch. There were few major luxuries save for the modern conveniences many enjoyed; such as a large high definition television in the front room, a desk top computer for shared use and a laptop for each separate. The most luxurious indulgences were actually spent on the kitchen and its appliances, as Christian took great pride in that one room and the delicacies he could create.
Small fun fact; Christian is an incredible cook. Scotty will often tease that it is one of the reasons why he married him. Okay, at least we
think Scotty is only teasing.
Wait, we tell a lie. Christian himself would say that the most money that gets spent in this household is actually spent on the third member of their family, the white Persian feline that Christian affectionately thinks of as his and Scott's little girl, Genie, for whom no expenses were to be spared.
Now that the day was set to begin anew, it was safe to delve a bit further into this home and find that the masters of the household have yet to arise from their slumber. In the master bedroom (don't worry, nothing unseemly was currently happening!), the door was open slightly to allow in a sliver of light from the rest of the apartment and the shades over the bedroom's window was drawn, keeping it mostly in the dark to allow for the most restful of sleeps. The king size bed showed the obvious forms of the two sleeping men huddled beneath the blankets, kept snug even in this summer heat by the perpetually running air conditioning.
Slowly, one of those very forms stirred from beneath the covers until a tanned arm stretched out from beneath and turned his corner of the comforter down, revealing himself to be the very subject of this promotion, Christian Underwood himself. His face still bore the tell-tale signs of his abduction and the physical nature of getting him subdued, as bottom lip had yet to fully heal from the cut, there was a welt on both the bridge of his nose as well as his forehead, and a faint bruise on his upper left cheek, right by the eye.
Squinting his eyes, Christian extends a hand to grasp the digital radio clock on the edge of the dresser beside the bed and he glanced carefully at the time.
"Crap." Christian mumbled beneath his breath, catching sight of the time.
He was normally up at around seven sharp, and considered this to be sleeping late. It's what happens when he gets into the same bed as that amorous husband of his. Bare chested but clad in a black thong (Scotty refused to let him wear anything else as far as undergarments were concerned), Christian pulled his side of the comforter down and slid his bare legs over the edge. He was about to rise when a massively muscled arm snaked its way from beneath the blanket and around his waist, stopping him from going anywhere.
Christian turns around but Scotty was still buried beneath the blankets and only his arm was visible.
He said, "Scotty, come on. It's time for me to get up."
Some grumbling was heard coming from beneath the blankets and Scott pulled back with his arm, drawing Christian back on the bed and up close against him much like a child might embrace a teddy bear against their body. All too used to this treatment, Christian could do nothing short of smile as he tried to extricate himself but it was a bit too obvious who had the advantage in strength between these two men. As such, it didn't appear that Christian was going anywhere.
At least not until he stated simply, "If you don't let me get up, I can't exactly fix your breakfast, now can I?"
And after a moment's grumbling, Scott released his grip from around Christian's waist and with a sigh of relief, Christian slid off of the edge of the bed and stood upright. As he took hold of a robe from the arm rest of a cushioned chair, he slipped it on and spoke.
"I swear Scotty, if anyone should be sleeping in, it should be me. You had me bent in ever position imaginable last night. As sore as I am, I'd like to think I deserve the extra rest."
The top of the covers then turned down and a sleepy looking Scott Schreiner peeked out and said, "Your jaw should be sore as hell too but it isn't stopping you from running your mouth."
Christian shook his head and muttered, "That would be so offensive if it wasn't true." And he turned and made to leave the bedroom so that he might get his man's morning started. No sooner did he open the bedroom door further than their cat, the full sized Persian female affectionately named Genie, after their mutual friend Gene Banton, saddled into the room, walking past Christian's bare legs and rubbing up against them.
Christian knew all too well what was coming and he could not bring himself to miss it this one time. Genie crossed the bedroom floor in a fluid motion and gracefully leapt first onto the chair beside the bed, then onto the small desk on Scott's side of the bed. Genie looked down at the still form beneath the covers. lying noticeably on the back. Her legs tensed as she prepared to pounce, and pounce she did and she landed right on...
"Oof!" Scott groaned loudly as he bolted to a seated position with one hand bracing himself back against the bed and the other clutching... well, let's just say right where that twelve pound cat just landed. His eyes were clenched shut, as were his pursed lips, and Genie tilted her head down and pushed it forcibly against his forearm, eliciting a desired scratch behind the ears.
"Good morning Daddy!" Christian chirped merrily and he turned and made his exit as a teary eyed Scott slowly recovered.
Christian had busied himself in the kitchen, preparing the usual feast for Scott following a night filled with his husband's usual ... physicality? The table had already been laden down with plates filled with scrambled eggs, toast, roasted potatoes and bacon, and now Christian was putting the finishing touches on a heaping pile of tiramisu pancakes. He could hear the sound of the shower running down the hall, and if he timed things right, he'd have everything ready for Scott for when he finished his morning shower.
Scott probably as going to try and talk him out of his plans today, given it was his last day before he had to head for California tomorrow en route to 'Into the Void II', and he had a lot to do in order to have everything ready for his match. Ever since Aleksei's family members had found him, Scotty had been doing everything short of threats to keep him at home where he'd be safe. Considering today was his last before laving for San Diego, he figured Scott would try pulling out all stops. Meaning, Christian would have to do the same in order to be able to get prepared for his match.
The scents of the breakfast feast lingered in the air and had drawn a new arrival to the kitchen. Christian felt the familiar nudge against his bare ankle and he glanced down to find those little blue eyes of genie's staring up at him, demanding to be fed as well.
"Yes, your Highness." Christian teased as he dropped the last of the pancakes onto the plate and turned the stove off. He turned to take it to the table and nearly tripped over the cat who was almost always underfoot as cats tended to be. "Watch it! Killing me won't get your breakfast any faster!"
"What'd you say!?" He heard Scott bellow as the sounds of the shower had ceased from the single bathroom.
Christian set the plate down and answered, "Nothing! Genie just nearly killed me is all!"
"Oh alright!"
Christian frowned and stared in the direction of the hall for a moment before he turned back around to head for the pantry and to get the cat her morning meal and treats.
Minutes later, Genie was happily lapping up the cream in her saucer and munching on the beef and liver cat food in the bowl beside her water dish. At the table, a famished 'Big Pump' was devouring the majority of the food laid out before him while Christian focused mainly on some toast and bacon, preferring to go light for the start of the day.
"So you're really thinking about going through with this." Scott said through a forkful of eggs looking across the table at him before he shoveled the food in his mouth, all but ignoring the laid out newspaper on the table beside the now empty plates.
Christian sighed and put the remaining bite of toast back down on the plate and looked up at his man. He knew this was coming and getting into a debate with Scott of any sort was a virtual battle. Especially after what had happened recently, Scotty hadn't wanted him out of his sight for any amount of time. He couldn't remember the last time Scott accompanied him to a grocery store but there he was -- harassing the samples woman for extra treats while Christian himself did the shopping. With everything he had to do today, it just wasn't feasible bringing along an over protective 'Big Pump' for the ride.
Pun not intended!
"I'm not thinking about it, Scotty." Christian answered. "I am doing it. I have to. The match contracts have been signed. Selena is arriving this evening. I have to do some last minute working out and then there's the interview..."
"Okay, okay!" Scott barked. "I get it! You have a busy day! But I still think it's crazy you want to do this match! Especially after what just happened to you! You were kidnapped goddammit! You get tied up and..."
"Scotty, them tying me up was really no different than when you tie me up. Only your knots are better."
"That's not funny dammit! ...
Thank you. ... I don't want you going out there for this match! You could get hurt!"
"Scotty, I've been wrestling long enough to know the damn risks. I couldn't get hurt any easier in this match than I could when I'm wrestling anywhere else; Europe, Japan, right here in one of the indies that Gene books me in..."
"You know what I mean!"
"I do." Christian smiled, resting his chin on his hand. "And you know you're awfully sexy when you' trying to be assertive."
"
Thank you. Plus going out for this whole damn day alone is just asking for trouble!"
"How do you figure?" Christian asked as he picked up his glass of iced coffee and had a deep drink.
"What the hell's to stop those bastards from trying to end this before it starts and kidnap you again?"
"The threat of Mark's bounties and Aleksei's family is keeping tabs on everything, mostly."
"Fine. Be cute." Scott growled, then pointed his fork at Christian, inadvertently flicking a piece of egg across the table. "But I'm going with you today."
"Scotty," Christian started to say with resignation in his voice. He knew that's what Scott was determined to do, and he just as determined to make sure he didn't do it. "no, you're not."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't need a nurse maid or a bodyguard, Scott, although I love you all the same for being so protective. This day is just taking care of business and getting me ready. That I can handle on my own. When Sel arrives, then I'll come by and ..."
"I'm. Going. With. You." Scott growled, all formality behind the demand gone and now he was making it clear that he would brook no argument to the point.
Christian groaned as he pushed his chair back and stood up. "Ugh! Arguing with you is pointless!"
"I'm glad you realize that." Scott answered.
Christian stated, "I have to get a couple things around the apartment done and then get in the shower to get ready. Why don't you grab a quick nap in the meantime and we can head out?"
"Now you're talking!" Scott barked as he too stood up.
Roughly thirty minutes later, Christian emerged from the bathroom, the mist of the steam trailing behind him. In just the towel around his waist, Christian stepped into his bedroom quietly and found his husband out cold on the bed, spread out like an old throw rug, still clad in just his white t and black boxer briefs. Scotty must have really worn himself out last night. that and eating such a huge meal always made him literally pass out and next to nothing would wake him up.
Christian looked down at the prone form and a smile crossed his face, as a rather naughty idea crossed his head.
***
The sound of the car engine just outside of the bedroom window alerted a still sleeping Scott Schreiner and he woke up. He went to move his left hand but found himself unable. He blinked the sleep from his system and glanced up and found his wrist tightly shackled with a set of handcuffs to the headboard. He rolled his head to the other side and saw his right hand was under the same condition.
"Mmmphh!" He tried to call out but was unable, the result of the large ball gag stuffed tightly in his mouth and secured.
Surprised but now fully alert, he looked down and found his legs spread out and his ankles shackled to the lower posts of the bed as well! In a completely spread eagled 'X' position, Scott struggled but was bound tightly enough he could barely budge.
"MNMPPHH!"
The home of the Goldenboy Gene Banton was a massive estate on even more massive acreage of grounds. Known to wrestling purists as the proverbial 'Manager of the Millennium' for turning out only the best in students, Gene was both born into money, and the rest he made through his own hard work and crafty business negotiations.
Deep within the cavernous three level mansion that Gene and his family called home was a state of the art training facility that Gene used for the training of whatever student that he happened to take a shine to in order to bring them into the world of professional wrestling. Inside of this facility was the latest in work out machines, including treadmills and cycles that kept track of heart rates and such, weights of all manner, and indeed, a full sized wrestling ring stationed right in the center so that all would know just why this very place existed in the Banton home.
Everywhere one looked was memorabilia of times past in the business, mementos of wrestling stars that were influenced by this man amongst men, a legend certainly. Posters from shows headlined by the Goldenboy were not simply hung up, but framed behind glass with only the finest frames crafted of carved and polished wood -- and
then hung up for all to see. Photographs of many of his students of the game, the vast majority being females who have long since retired to quieter careers, rested in like frames and placed in spots of honor, assured that all eyes would befall them. Women such as Gene's own sister, Barbi Banton... Pepper Anderson, the martial arts phenom ... the woman known regally as Magnificent Monica Stark, a multi-time world champion, perhaps the most successful female combination of the Polsen Twins, and many, many others.
Included among them, was another picture, one that seemed to stand out for the sole reason, it was of a male. The first man that Gene Banton had ever taken under his wing to rise into becoming a wrestling superstar; Christian Underwood. Christian had been brought before Gene when he was but a teenager, and with much blood, sweat and more than the usual amount of tears, Gene turned him loose on the wrestling world and many state the business was all the better for it. As were the two men, because a relationship that went past the mere manager/client one and delved into one of genuine brotherhood and friendship grew. The friendship forged with this man was but one of the reasons why Christian could not bring himself to leave Las Vegas and return home to San Francisco.
It was in this place in particular, everything was all about business. Personal issues were to be set aside and one had to focus solely on bettering one self for one of the most physically demanding sports in existence. The fact was all too evident by the loud slam of a body falling inside of the ring, and the grunt of pain that followed.
Gene Banton's own son, aptly named after him and referred to many as simply Geno Junior, was inside of the ring, clad in his pine green trunks and white boots. Having just sent his 'Aunt Christian' soaring through the air with a high back body drop, the young upstart took a moment's pause to pose in the middle of the squared circle and turn about in a complete 360. having landed as best he could on his feet and shoulders, taking the vast majority of the impact, Christian never the less sat up, wincing in pain and grasping back toward the lower area of his back.
Geno Junior then brought his trademark show boating to a halt and he grabbed 'Aunt Christian' by the arm and pulled him up to his feet and sent him running into the far corner. Junior was fast, faster than most young men in the business that were as sculpted physically as he, but he was also a rookie compared to Christian's years of experience. Junior dashed right in to the corner after him but the moment Christian touched the corner, he used his hands on the top rope to leapfrog up and over Junior, turning in midair to roll through with a sunset flip. Having been taught by the best, his own father, Junior dropped to his knees, pinning Christian's shoulders to the mat before he himself could be pulled over into his own pinning predicament.
Gene's second in charge of the gym, yet another magnificent wrestler in her own right, Erika Stark, was serving as the referee for this training session while Gene himself watched from the outside with a critical eye. Erika dropped down to make certain Christian's shoulder blades were pinned down and she made a count, but reached only two when the veteran used his legs to hook the underside of Junior's own shoulders and pulled him backwards into the aforementioned sunset flip. Erika again made an attempt at a count but this time it was Geno Junior who managed to break the count, getting his shoulder up off of the canvas of his father's ring in time.
Junior rolled backwards and jumped to a standing position and leapt over Christian who was flat on his back. Junior attempted a senton but Christian rolled out of the way and Junior landed heavily on his own backside. Christian was up straight away, grasping Junior by his left arm and pulling him up along with him. Christian twisted the arm twice in his grip, locking his friend's son and his own opponent in an extended wrist lock. Christian then ducked under his arm and used his leverage to pick Junior up over his shoulder and flip him heavily to the canvas. keeping hold of the Junior's wrist, Christian then dropped a leg across his bicep and scissored it with his own legs, trapping him in a leg scissors.
"No!" Junior shook his head in answering to Erika's request if he wished to throw in the proverbial towel and call this training session to a close. There was no chance that Junior would yield, especially when inside of his own fathers ring. he instead bucked back and used his legs to ensnare Christian around the head and drag him off into a head scissors.
Christian, however, was in the wrong position for that hold to truly be difficult to counter and Christian somersaulted over him, breaking the scissors hold and covering Junior in another pin attempt. Erika made it to a count of two before Junior remarkably was able to bridge up out of the pin, pushing the 202 pound Christian up along with him while on top. Gene was noticeably impressed with his offspring's display and Junior turned the moment to his advantage by keeping hold of his opponent and turning him around and brought him over with a backslide, to which Erika made yet another near fall count.
Junior pulled Christian up, using his toned arm to trap him in a side headlock. Junior attempted to use the hold as a manner in which to wear Christian down while at the same time, catching his own breath. The two men were of a similar build, but Christian had years of experience in cardiovascular work outs and thus, his in ring conditioning was the superior one. Christian did not remain in this hold for very long as he used the ropes to launch Geno Junior off, breaking the hold. Junior came running off of the ring's far side and he collided with his 'Aunt Christian', knocking the SCWer down to his back with a shoulder tackle. Junior then leapt over him and dashed off of the ring's far side, while Christian quickly returned to his footing. Junior came running off and extended his arm for an attempt at a lariat, but Christian saw it coming from the moment his arm reached out. Christian ducked under and around Junior, grabbing him in a waistlock from behind. Christian then ran Junior into the ropes to attempt a roll up, but Geno Junior grabbed hold of the ropes, making use of his father's wealth of ring knowledge. Hanging on, he thrust his body back and sent Christian down to the mat.
Christian rolled backwards and was right back to a vertical base when Junior came springing off of the ropes and whatever he had in mind came to no fruition, when Christian dropped down and baseball slid right through the young man's legs. Junior ducked down, instinctively reaching for him, but Christian grasped him by both hands and pulled, flipping Junior over. As Junior flipped and his shoulders ended up down on the mat, Christian used Junior's own weight against him, dropping down against his legs while holding onto his hands in an inverted roll up, tying the young man up like a pretty package.
The three count was a mere formality as Erika slapped her hand against the mat once, twice, three times, and Gene reached over with his right hand and used a small hammer to hit the time keeper's bell to call the training session to a halt.
"Alright, that's enough!" Gene senior called out from his position at ringside. "Match is over boys! Christian, you can let him up now. I think my son's seen quite enough of your backside in his face for a lifetime."
"Oh I don't know." Junior called out from where he was still pinned down. "His ass looks firmer than half the babes I've went out with!"
Christian promptly rolled off of the young man and Gene frowned at the sarcastic remark that emanated from his only won. Geno Junior was as straight as a man could possibly be, but he was also an incurable flirt and he was prone to teasing his 'Aunt Christian' without any mercy. It was amazing the level of confidence his son had in his own masculinity, but refreshing as well given he had no qualms at all in showing off or joking around inside of the ring with an openly gay man for a friendly encounter.
"Thanks, Junior." Christian said with much sincerity.
The two men stood up and Christian extended his hand as a way of thanking Gene's son for being there for him for this training encounter, but the always smiling Junior grasped his hand and pulled him into a playful hug before releasing him altogether.
"Not a problem." Junior said with a smile and he promptly swatted Christian on his backside before ducking out of the ring and he grabbed a towel and headed for the gym's shower in the room just off set to this one.
Gene himself just shook his head at his son's actions and turned as Christian stepped through the ropes and he dropped down to the floor beside him. Christian dabbed at his forehead, attempting to keep the perspiration from further running into his eyes and stinging them.
"God, that son of yours is a beast, Geno." Christian exclaimed. "He's really come a long way since you first decided to start his training."
"He has a long way to go, too." Erika stated matter-of-factly as she too dropped to the floor and walked around the corner of the ring where she opened an ice chest and removed two bottles of water. She walked around to where the two men were standing and offered one of the bottles to Christian before opening her own and drinking from it.
"You think he does?" Christian asked in a slight hint of bewilderment. "After what he just showed? He had a counter for almost everything I threw at him. That pin was just by the skin of my teeth."
Gene shrugged but still held a smile of great pride for his children on his face. He said, "He and his sister both can hold their own in the ring, but I'd still like to push them both a little further. You should know my training habits better than anyone." He winked.
"That's putting it mildly." Christian admitted as he twisted the cap off of his own water and almost drained it at once. he hated to admit it, but Gene's son had pressed him much harder than he had anticipated. "It's also the reason why I decided to take a detour today and stop by. A little last minute training session before the big match."
"I can understand why." Gene nodded, leaning back against the steel ring post and he folded his arms over his muscled chest. "You have a lot riding on this one."
"if you can call everything, a lot." Christian stated, finishing the water and setting the bottle down on the edge of the ring apron. "Mark and I busted our asses to build that fed up from the ground to where it is now. This is probably going to be our last chance to get it all back under our own control."
"I still can't believe you were willing to make such a challenge." Erika observed. "Those kind of matches are a big risk." She shrugged and asked further, "Why risk everything you have over one grudge?"
"Doesn't sound like he had much of a choice, really." Gene offered, looking first to Christian and then to Erika.
"That's what I tried telling Scott, but he's been too pig headed over this whole ordeal." Christian replied. "It's an all or nothing situation. If we did nothing, eventually Erik would have run the place out of business. This way is about the only chance Mark and I have at getting him out of the picture. As it stands, it's going to take a hell of a lot of time to undo the damage that he's already caused."
"It's still not going to be guaranteed." Gene stated. "I've seen Tom compete for years and the man really hasn't lost a step. And that Nick character..."
"I know." Christian said, simply. "Nick's a bona fide celebrity in the ring. Proved himself a hundred times over and he continues to do so. I knew he'd be made for the top the moment he got signed, but it doesn't make this any less critical. Nick and Tom both are probably making the same mistake.
"Which is?" Erika prodded.
Christian said, "They've both seen Mark compete these past two years, so they think he'll be the main challenge to them. They see me sitting in the office, staying out of the ring, and think I'm the weak link. They're not that aware that when I'm away from SCW on days off, I'm working wherever Gene here finds me bookings. If they're going to just gloss over me, it's going to be their own swan song."
"And besides," Christian added, casting sidelong glance toward the Goldenboy. "I have the added advantage of the best training and manager around today."
"That's what I like to hear." Gene said with a smirk of confidence, slapping a hand on his friend and protege's shoulder. "Now it's almost time for Selena's flight to land. Go get showered and you'll have just enough time to get to the airport to meet her."
"Right!" Christian said with a smile and he went right for the shower room when Gene reached out quickly and grabbed his arm.
"On second thought..." Gene stated, holding his arm. "Why don't you let Junior finish his own shower and get dressed
first?"
"Party pooper!" Christian laughed.
The two young people were seated at a corner table in the Elize Wine and Country restaurant in the heart of Las Vegas's Strip district. The day had started to draw to a close and the sun was already set over the city's skyline. The first of what would be many stars had only just begun to show themselves from up in the heavens and in due time, the moon would be out in its full glory and night would be descended upon Nevada.
"Of
course[ I'll be in your corner, Chrissy!" Selena Lesseos-Locke said from across the table where she sat with her very best friend for so many years. "I didn't fly all the way from Minnesota just to sit at ringside with everyone else. I intend to cheer you on, up close."
Selena, known in years past in the business as the aptly named Delicious, first met Christian during his late teens while they were both students in a beauty academy, learning the art of cutting and styling hair for men and women alike.
(Yet another fun little Christian Underwood fact: He is a skilled hair stylist! No jokes about a gay man being a hair dresser, please!)
She was a blonde beauty, petite ins size but not in heart as she never wavered from jumping into the action to distract an opponent or attempt to shield this dear friend of her's from harm's way. More often than not, she paid for it by male competitors who were none too chivalrous about dealing with a woman inserting herself into their territory. At worst, she suffered a broken leg once when a disgruntled opponent of Christian's locked her in a Figure 4 and refused to let go. Still, it did not deter her from being there for Christian then, and such threats were not even a notion to her thoughts now when he had called her to hopefully lure her to Sin City Wrestling for a one time only return to his side.
"I was hoping you'd say that." Christian said as he dug his fork into the gourmet garlic chicken salad in front of him. True the smile was sincere and genuine, but he had to admit silently to himself that he was worried whether or not Selena would want to get involved in the business ever again following her marriage and retirement.
"Well it's only right." Selena smiled as she reached and picked up the glass of red wine and had a light sip to the taste. "After all, with me in your's and Mark's corner, how could you possibly lose? I never fail to inspire."
"True that." Christian grinned, loving the confidence level his best friend always displayed for him and his career inside of the ring. "Just try not to distract Mark as well, okay? I kind of need him focused on Tom and Nick."
"I'll do my best."
"Which reminds me," Christian stated. "Where's that studly hubby of yours? I was hoping Quentin would make the trip too. I haven't seen him in forever."
"Oh trust me, he wanted to come." Selena said. "But he got a last minute booking himself for this weekend over in Rome, walking the runway. When's the last time he's ever been able to say no to a fashion show?"
"True." Christian admitted. "Still, it would have been great to see him again. When is it not great to lay eyes on that man?" Christian then paused in thought and he started to chuckle.
"What?" Selena asked, having no idea where her friend's mind may have just wandered off to. "Where did you just go?"
Christian tried to contain his laughter, but with little success as he answered, "Oh I was just thinking back to that one match Quentin had with Mark, actually. It started off as an actual match, and somehow the two got caught up in a one upmanship. Mark teaching Quentin how to do that hip grind, and Quentin teaching Mark how to do a proper model runway walk."
Selena could not help but join in with her friend's light hearted laughter, as she too remembered the comedic antics of that match from years ago.
"Oh my God, I had forgotten all about that" She chuckled."Now I really
wish he had been able to make it! It would have been great to see
that particular reunion!"
A few more moments pass between the friends before they regained their composure. Selena then spoke up, "Speaking of reunions, where's that husband of
yours? I thought Scotty was going to be joining us for dinner."
"Oh Scotty?" Christian replied. "Oh he's ... he's..."
Christian's eyes slowly opened wide and it suddenly came back to him... Scotty.
"Oh shit!"
Oops!
"I've always had this amusing little saying about myself; 'I know that I make mistakes, but being wrong has never been one of them.' Sadly, that's not something that I can say with any merit ever again. After all, hiring Erik Staggs has become to one blemish on what I like to consider an otherwise perfect record. When Mark and I were looking for someone to give us a hand in talent relations so we might focus our own attentions more so on the business aspects of SCW, and the actual promoting and booking, the name of Staggs simply presented itself."
"Say what you will, but Erik Stagg's reputation amongst the annals of professional wrestling speaks for itself. Under most circumstances, the man knows how to get things done. So we hired him at face value, and that was our own mistake. We had little understanding that we had just set a shark loose in Sea World, so to speak. Under that calm, cool exterior, Erik Staggs is cold and calculating, and not a hint shy of being a lying, two-faced, back stabbing weasel. I hope you're paying attention to this Staggs, because if you were offended at all by my words, then I did them well enough."
"Things could have been a lot worse for SCW, had Erik's own nephew not realized what his uncle was up to. Spike, we owe you a world of gratitude at being there for Mark and myself, and for SCW as a whole. But right now, things have gotten serious, much more so than we had ever hoped they could become. You all are aware of what happened to me a few weeks ago. Kidnapped from my own office and stuffed in a trunk to god knows where. Then tied to a chair and gagged while a crony or two from Team Erik would tease and torment me. I suppose they thought that it was frightening me, or possibly embarrassing -- when truth be told it kind of got my rocks off!"
"I also want to send out my thanks to the family of Aleksei Koji who located me and got me away from that situation, before anything unseemly might have happened. After all, it's not as if it was Rob Van Dam who tied me down, now was it?"
"Unfortunately for Erik, this time he had bitten off a lot more than he could chew when he decided to usurp control of Sin City Wrestling away from Mark and myself, making promises that he had little hope of fulfilling to the many men and women who backed him completely and put their faith in him. Erik seems to have that way about him in inspiring errors in judgement from those around him. He's even had some who have pledged themselves to his cause, realize their mistake and come across to the light. Yes, I'm referring to stars like Amy Marshall and Kevin Carter."
"And now, it's come down to this; to the so-called 'Brawl For It All'. Two men who have yet to spot Erik Staggs for what he is. Two men who will put the future of not just Erik Staggs, Mark and myself, but Sin City Wrestling in their own hands when they face Hot Stuff Mark Ward, and yours truly, Christian Underwood. I am, of course, referring to Nick Jones and Tom Dudely."
"I can't show my face in public and deny the success of either of these men. I've been competing in professional wrestling longer than either of them, and have seen them rise from the ground up to become two of the elite in this sport. Why else would Mark and I have went to such great lengths to sign either of them to the SCW roster? We don't take just anyone. We want the epitome of perfection, the cram of the crop, and with Nick and Tom, SCW certainly attained just that. But now Mark and I won't be watching backstage while these two men compete against their fellow superstars. This time, Nick and Tom will find themselves across the ring from the bosses, themselves. Every grievance they have, they are going to air against us with the harshest manner I know both are capable of."
"The only thing is, neither of them truly know just how deep of a corner they've backed us into. They have no clue, literally, at the mistake they made when they opted to back the wrong team."
"Tom, you and I go back quite a ways here in Sin City Wrestling. The last I saw you up close, you know, before I was abducted, was when you struck a woman and I sent your ass flying out of the ring after you attempted that cheap shot. I say attempted because it didn't quite work out the way you expected, now did it? I sent your butt flying, and sent you packing from these parts. You thought me an easy mark, someone who's time was in the past or who had not been keeping in wrestling shape. That was your mistake then, and it's going to be your mistake now. You laid a woman out, Tom. To me, that shows just how much of a spineless coward you truly are. Now you can make all the jokes you want to, but it's not a woman in the ring with you this time. You're in there with Mark and myself, two men who have every advantage in their own corner. Experience. Drive. Determination. Did you seriously think you were going to return here and help in my abduction and some how, some way, not end up paying the piper? Do everything you possibly can to stay out of the ring with me Dudely, because I am going to revel in every moment that I make you out to be the fool that everyone will soon know you as!"
"Now Nick, while I might not have held much respect for you as a man, if indeed that is what you are (I have my theories about that), I can't deny the fact that success seems to follow you wherever you go. You know, when you didn't have your entire Entourage stealing wins for you. Two time Heavyweight Champion. An impressive record, Nick, and one not often repeated. But were those reigns deserved for your talent, or because of the simple fact you had a number of people in your corner, ready to back you up the moment it looked like you were in trouble? Wrestler of the Year. Man of the Year. Again, awards deserved and voted for by the fans of the SCW. I commend you for that, but not for the type of human being that recently you've proven yourself to having become. Attacking Mark was one thing, Nick. That put you in a dangerous place, but then doing to your own family what you did, cost you what little respect I had for you. And unfortunately, it also is quite possibly, going to spell out your own downfall. You don't have as much support in your corner as you used to. Diana and Tony, that's it. The odds are not as stacked in your favor as what you might be used to. Pity. And with Mark's and my own plans, what little backup you might have will be virtually non existent. This time, Nick, you are going to have to act the part of a man, and face us like one. This time, it's just us, alone in the ring. No jokes, no insults, nothing of the sort is going to buy your way out of finding yourself flat on your back, staring at the ring lights."
"Gentlemen, when all is said and done, and Mark and I have our arms raised in the air, I want the both of you to think hard at just what the hell your future is going to look like when you have to answer for everything that you've done."
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