Las Vegas, Nevada - GO Gym
Last week
The estate of the Stevens clan never failed to impress those who paid a social call to the family that called it home. Two stories with multiple bedrooms and baths, it was as close to a mansion as you might be lucky enough to find in this Las Vegas neighborhood. The closest to match it would be -- well, Synn’s estate. It would seem that grand taste ran in this wrestling family of sorts. It was obvious that everyone was home, as all the family vehicles were parking out front in the driveway that wove its way around the front gate and before the house itself. The recent Corona virus had caused much of the nation to go into seclusion, or as most called it, a self-quarantine. Gabriel and Odette were no different, preferring to keep their family safe and at home, only leaving when absolutely necessary.
The white Mazda MX pulled into the drive and slowed to a crawl until it came to a stop behind Gabriel’s own Bugatti Veyron. Once the engine was turned off, the driver’s door opened and there was an audible string of Icelandic words hollered out as the white, Siberian husky Kyssa crawled over the lap of her master Fenris and stood upright on the drive’s pavement. As opposed to simply waiting for him to exit his vehicle first and then let her out. She sat on her haunches and looked up at him with soulful eyes, all the better to cause him to bite back whatever string of words he might utter in her direction for using him as a human speed bump.
Not that he would. Daddy’s girl and all. Kyssa was a spoiled pup, and probably the only thing in creation that was safe from the Icelandic Superstar’s infamous and volatile temper.
Once he slid out and locked the door behind him, only then did Kyssa make for the front door of the manor, knowing full well by habit alone that it was where Fenris was heading. Fenris stood on the front doorstep and rang the doorbell, then rapped his knuckles on the hard wood for added measure. Kyssa was a bundle of energy, watching and waiting with her rear end twitching in anticipation, all the while Fenris stood rigid against the porch’s support columns with his arms folded. He saw a slight movement from out of the corner of his eye and was almost certain he saw the Stevens’ young boy Lucas duck back behind the shades. His suspicion was confirmed when he heard the young child call aloud, “Dad! It’s Uncle Grumpy!” Causing Fenris to frown, silently musing “What the f…”
When the front door opened and Gabriel slid carefully outside before one or both of his children or the family pets could make it outside.
“Uncle Grumpy?” Fenris confronted him, but Gabriel just smiled genuinely and answered the unasked question, “You can blame Aron for that one.”
“Mm hm.” Fenris nodded, his face remaining passive given the circumstances for his visit. He waved a hand toward the door Gabriel seemed to be standing in front of protectively and asked, “Not going to ask us in?”
Gabriel, however, found his eyes on Kyssa who stared up at him with tail wagging and he needed little invitation to kneel in front of her and give her neck and head a brisk scratch-a-thon. He casually looked up at his student and asked, “You brought her out? Is that safe?”
“No evidence dogs carry that virus.” He jetted a chin toward the door. “And you didn’t answer my question. Not going to ask us in?”
Gabriel sighed and stood upright. “I can’t.” He admitted. “Your brother is right inside, playing with Lucas and Hazel.”
“Good.” Fenris said, taking a step forward. “He’s who I came to see.”
But before Fenris could approach the door, Gabriel held a hand up to stop him from going any further. “Wait…”
“Wait? Wait for what?” Fenris asked. “Aron left the tour! I need to talk to him!”
Gabriel said, “Well the problem with that is right now, he doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Feris said, “Well people can’t always get what they want!”
“Good, then we’re in agreement.” Gabriel placed a reassuring hand on Fenris’s arm. The Icelandic man looked down at the hand, Gabriel knowing his penchant for disliking physical contact, but Gabriel did not remove his hand. Instead he said, “Then you’ll understand why right now you shouldn’t talk to him.”
“No.” Fenris’s brow deepend further, as if that were even a possibility, and he said, “No. I do. Not. Understand!”
Gabriel sighed and his hand slid from off of his bare arm and the teacher said to the student, “Kristjan, Odette and I watched his match, and we saw what you did. We also know about that row you two had afterwards. Both of them. Aron left and came here to get some space, some time away. And instead of giving him time, you followed him. Trust me when I tell you that if you try and force him to talk before he’s ready and/or willing? It’ll work against you, not to your benefit.”
If Gabriel hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that the look Fenris shot towards the door of his home, the one where his brother remained behind, was almost -- helpless. Fenris exhaled and turned to him, his arms falling to his sides as he asked, “What the hell am I supposed to do, then!?”
Gabriel watched Fenris for a brief moment, then beckoned him with his hand as he set foot off of his front porch, answering, “Take a walk with me.” As Gabriel moved off the front path of his and Odette’s estate, Kyssa wasted little to no time in following, always a happy girl to go for a walk. And her morning runs had been recently interrupted thanks to the Corona Virus and social distancing. With a frown and brief pause, Fenris soon followed --
--And it was just that easily that Fenris had found himself wandering the private zoo sanctuary that was Odette’s dream, and being an animal lover himself, one that Gabriel had been only too happy to help fulfill. Several acres in size, it was an impressive feat for the Stevens, one that fans worldwide wanted a glimpse of, but thus far had been rebuffed. This was one piece of their lives that remained private, save for family and friends. This was for them and theirs, but more importantly, it was for the animals that called it home.
They paused outside of a large pen that housed the proverbial “king” of this zoo, the white tiger named Tyson that had once performed alongside Gabriel himself during his time as a Las Vegas magician and entertainer.
“So you saw.” Fenris said, more of a statement than a question. “You and Odette.”
“We did.”
“And? Are you going to take the piss out of me too?” Fenris asked. “Like Aron’s been doing?”
Gabriel said nothing to answer him, he merely gave him a silent shake of the head to say that no. he was not.
“Was what I did really that bad!?” Fenris finally asked. It surprised Gabriel that he was actually seeking out advice from someone that he respected as opposed to keeping to his own council, which was his usual routine in handling personal issues.
Gabriel took a moment but smiled, despite himself and despite the situation itself. He answered, “You mean as bad as he made it out to be?” He shook his head in the negative. “No. But you know how it is with family; everything is always emotional, and things tend to get blown way out of proportion. Pride does that to the best of us.”
“You speak from experience?” Fenris asked with his trademark smirk, to which Gabriel answered with a hard chuckle and answered, “I wasn’t known as the ‘Sin of Greed’ for nothing, you know.” He finally took his eyes away from Tyson and continued to walk, prompting Fenris to keep pace beside him with Kyssa bringing up the rear, her ears perked up and nose twitching at all of the new sights and smells surrounding her.
Gabriel said as they walked, “Look, I know that you want to protect your brother. I get that and admire it more than I can say. But in the end, whether or not he decides to pursue wrestling himself as a new career move is his choice.” Gabriel shared a look with his student, adding, “And his alone. You have to let him stand -- or fall -- on his own two feet. Difficult as that will be. Trust me.” he exhaled sharply. “I know.”
“Really.” Fenris murmured as the trio found themselves just outside of a caged enclosure, and a small ocelot was within the confines of the area fashioned into a replica of its natural habitat. It lay in a hammock that stretched between two trees planted firmly in the groundThe cat was beautiful, with a golden and white coat of fur and natural black stripes and spots all along its nimble body. It rose its head from slumber and peaked at the visitors, but seemed disinterested and laid its head back down to continue its snooze.
Gabriel stopped and watched the cat for a few moments, taking delight that Kyssa’s own interest as a caine had been perked up considerably. He then said, “Everyone out there knows that I love Despy like he was my own brother, and as far as I’m concerned, he is. Blood ties or not. So tell me, when you look at him, what do you see?” fenris paused, as if hesitant to answer, before Gabriel stressed, “Be honest.”
Fenris gave it some thought before he finally relented and answered, “Fun. Innocent.” Gabriel kept waiting and Fenris shrugged, finally admitting, “Man-child. Someone to protect.”
“That’s right.” Gabriel smiled, appreciating that Fenris was starting to understand the point that he was leading him to. “Like Aron, at first he wasn’t supposed to become a wrestler. Just I was, but he had a natural talent for it. His father and I weren’t too keen on the idea, because like you are with Aron, we didn’t want to stand there and watch the little guy get hurt. But there he was, right beside me from the very start. And it was hard enough when we were a tag team, but when I stepped down and he went solo? It was absolute misery standing back and watching him get thrown around the ring by guys three times his size?”
“He beat them though, didn’t he?” Fenris asked, already knowing the answer. Gabriel smiled and shook a forefinger at him, but not in a reprimanding way.
Gabriel congratulated him and said, “You just made my point, Kristjan. He won, and kept winning. There were men who hated him for his success. Look at the feud he had with a guy named Shipman. That bastard betrayed our entire family, and took all of his insecurities out on Despy. That match? Shipman was the first to ever make Despy bleed and it scared the shit out of me! But you know what I found out?”
Fenris just shook his head and Gabriel answered, “He didn’t need me to save him.”
“You just said Shipman made him bleed.”
“Oh he did!” Gabriel admitted, then stressed, “Badly, but the end result? Despy beat him. Now you put your brother and despy side-by-side and you tell me who looks the more likely to be able to defend themselves in a scrap.”
“There is a difference.” Fenris said. “You told me the kid had it rough.”
“And he did.” Gabriel said. “Despy had a rough time of it as a kid growing up. He learned how to fight by instinct, by rote. Aron didn’t have to because he always had you watching his back, ready to jump in and fight for him.”
Gabriel looked Fenris squarely in the eye and smiled, “It doesn’t make Aron any less capable.” And that being said, Gabriel turned to continue the walk through the zoo, and Fenris stayed put for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before following.
“So, this is what I’ve been reduced to, hm? Stephen Callaway. You know when I talked about starting from the bottom up and mentioned his name, I wasn't entirely certain whether or not the staff and matchmakers would actually take me seriously and book this complete waste of my time. But looky here! No sooner do I open my big mouth and someone in the hierarchy thinks it would make for a good laugh to put the former Champion against someone who hasn't accomplished a goddamn thing since he's been here! Here I just come off one of the most incredible matches of my career against Ben Jordan for the world title, and I'm immediately put into a match with someone whose credibility ranks below that of a muppet! I swear to God I could not even show up for this match and I'd still have a better chance of winning than Stephen does!”
Fenris closed his eyes and held a hand, as if in waving away any protests from his fans or Stephen’s own admirers.
“Oh I know. Ever since Callaway first showed up here, all I've heard about was him being some sort of bring General. A veteran of the sport that is spent so much time on the top that he's practically getting a nosebleed walking around backstage. And when he talks, you can practically feel him expecting success to be just handed to him on a goddamn silver platter just because of his name, and the fact that he's been in this business for more than 10 years! But when I look back and pay attention to his track record, what the hell!?”
“Who has he beaten? What has he seriously done to warrant him thinking so highly of himself? A win over that Charmed reject warlock, Kedron Williams? Alex Rush (who I still say almost had him!)? Every damn time Callaway gets put into the ring with talent like Caleb Storms or Jake Raab, we don’t see anything of what he wants us to see! All we see is a so-called ring great who talks a great game, but when his back is to the wall, can’t back it up!”
He held both hands up and shook his head.
“Oh don’t get me wrong. Not saying the guy can’t do anything in the ring. I’m just saying he can’t accomplish anything. Big difference! If he had no skill at all, Mark Ward and Christian Underwood never would have hired him in the first place. But can’t help but think he must have sent them a collection of his matches he must have had twenty years ago, when he was actually still a thing because he sure as shit hasn’t done a damn thing to impress me or anyone else. I can just imagine the meeting between Mark and Christian, each one blaming the other for signing him to an iron clad contract in the first place.”
“Now some people might think I’m being hard on him and maybe even being a touch hypocritical since I admittedly run my own mouth. But the difference? When I do it, I can back it up. How many times have I been beaten in the past three years?”
He held up a hand and counted on one hand, “Austin James Mercer. Ben Jordan. And … Ben Jordan. Two men. Three losses. In THREE YEARS! So when you can say the same, Callaway, then maybe you can stop playing the victim card, acting as if the entire world is out to get you! All the better to explain your losses rather than to simply admit that you aren’t what you once were -- or that you desperately need help getting back into the winning pool! Whichever damages your ego less.”
He settled back and folded his arms, and perhaps most alarmingly -- smiled.
“So … Stephen Callaway. SCW has decided to throw the White Wolf a bone … only for me to chew it up and spit it out. And move onto an even tastier snack!”
Fenris then stood up and walked off-camera.
