Who Are You Doing This For?
That was a question that I have been asked multiple times in some form. What or Who are you doing this for?
Some say fame or money.
Which honestly, in this industry that is a dangerous narrative to be playing. There are no promises to any of that, no matter what. Injuries, going unsigned, playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes.
Are you doing this for some significant other?
I’m sorry, have you paid zero attention to the last 2 years of my life? First was Angel-Psycho-Bitch and now the latest situation that I have found myself in, honestly at this point it’s not even worth a thought.
What about family?
As much as I love my mum and sister and even my handsome nephew; they, to this day, will question my sanity in putting my body through something resembling a high speed car crash week in and week out. I have always been the one to go at the beat of my own drum. So while they support me, they don’t understand it and never will.
So what does that leave?
It’s a question I have never been able to answer. Who the fuck am I doing this for?
That Answer Should be easy. But it’s not.
Somethings are better left unsaid
Last Sunday
“Okay, so how do I look?” he said looking at the computer screen in front of him. Miles stood tall wearing a simple but nice looking red t-shirt with black slacks. He does a little spin with a smirk, “Too much, not enough?”
“I’m shocked you're getting dressed up for this at all, bro.” a female voice came from the computer, “From what I understand, it’s just supposed to be a meal with one of your stablemates.”
Miles just drops his hands and glares at the screen, “I mean in a way it is, but also a nice place with a beautiful young lady that I owe one to for being such a fuck up, Bri. So please, feedback.”
Miles’ twin sister, Brianna with his nephew Riley in her arms sighs very loudly, “Maybe not a t-shirt. What about that blue dress shirt that mum got you for Christmas? Did you bring it with you?”
“Pretty sure.” he said, ripping off the shirt over his head and tossing it onto the bed and opening his bag to immediately find that deep sky blue shirt, he shakes it out and removes it off the hanger that he had it on in the bag. “Any particular reason why that one?”
“It’ll bring out your eyes...if that’s what you are going for. I still think you need to sort other things out before you do this though.”
“It’s dinner, sis. Simple as that.” he said, slipping on the shirt. He checked himself out in a mirror and seemed impressed with how it looked, “And I know what you are going to say, but me being here has been one of the most freeing things in the world. After what happened with the week going into Summer Xxxtreme, and even before that...I rather separate myself from that madness and live in peace and going out to dinner with someone as beautiful as Zoey, is a perfect jumping off point.”
“So you’re just never going to talk to her ever again? Miles, I love you but you know damn well that is unreasonable, you deserve closure if that is what you are looking for.”
“I’m lookin’ for somehow my life to come to a turn where I’m not going to get looks every time I walk into a locker room shortly after whomever I am dating goes off like suddenly I’m property. How she went about it was completely wrong and I am not sorry for one bit for being here in India looking to get my life back.” Miles says finishing up buttoning his shirt leaving the top button undone, “Besides, this is just dinner that I’m treating Zoe to because I-”
“Fucked up. At least you are a gentleman enough to do that. I just hope that you know what you are getting yourself into. From what you told me, this girl has it hard for you.” Bri says as Riley begins to cry, “Dammit, I gotta go, it’s his dinner time. Behave yourself.”
“Since when do I do that?” Miles smirks, “Love ya and tell mum I’ll call her tomorrow, eh?”
Bri waves before ending the call. Miles breathes a huge breath before grabbing up his wallet and phone off the charger, looking at it like he was waiting for the Gods to tell him otherwise.
No call.
No text.
For 2 whole weeks, this was the MO.
‘Fuck it’ he thought. No more waiting for people around him, he was going after what he wanted. He shot a quick message out to Zoey that he was on the way before heading out the door, with a true smile on his face for the first time in what felt like forever.[/color]
Do You Wanna Dance?
Present Day
It was amazing, he put himself out there and while his stomach was still not quite recovered and everything still tasted like static, if static had a taste, he couldn’t help but walk a little lighter. Even his workouts at the gym that they had managed to take over, seemed to be better.
It’s amazing when you don’t feel like you don’t have your soul sucked from your very being.
While on his own personal journey of self discovery, he looked up and saw the sights. He was laughing and smiling, and found himself looking forward to what was coming on Sunday.
That one on one match with HB Carter.
“How the hell do you shit talk someone you actually like?” He found himself sitting along a water area in the Garden City of India, Bangalore. “I have been sitting here, trying to figure out how to really put it into this whole mindset where I usually am when it comes to these one on one matches. It’s a continuance of coming off the tag match from 2 weeks ago where honestly, that was fun. I wasn’t even mad about any of it.”
“But sometimes the fun and games gotta come to an end. Carter, mate, I like you. You are so open and honest about yourself. And I know I have said that about you multiple times because it makes people like me respect you. You are absolutely adorable to boot and honestly, I think that is what made me undermate you. You don’t get to sit around and claim championships like you do, without being hella fucking talented in the ring.” Miles holds up his hands, “And that’s on me. That is 100% on me. But it also has snapped me into a different mode here where now I have to go into Climax Control and know that I need to win.”
He smiles gently and brings up his finger with a smirk.
“BUT! Somewhere along the way of this match our friendship and our whole good nature between each other...I wonder if it has to come to an end. I don’t want it to. But when it comes to the one on one aspect of it, the friendship thing and my competitive spirit means that I can work towards something that has been escaping me.”
He sighs and sits back, grumbling and trying to figure out how he wants to word this.
“This is what I was talking about. Who or what are you doing this for? What is the ‘WHY’ at the end of the day? Championships are nice, friends are great, the fame is come and go and honestly family is a support system. But who do you do this for in the end? For the first time in almost 4 fucking years, I finally know. I throw on the spandex, I lace up the shoes, I slip on the pads and the shiny kick pads. I go through a whole ass roll of tape for one person. ME! I have grown so GODDAMN MUCH thanks to Wolfslair, just like you did with your gym, and while you are comfortable with yourself, I am still working on finding me. Who knows, maybe this match can help.”
He clenches his fist, and doesn’t slam it on the bench but it still makes a smack as he leans on it.
“I feel like I’m on the right path, this enlightenment that I have put myself on...but HB, I’m sorry mate, nothing personal. But I gotta do what I gotta do if I am going to take things to the next level.”
And with a wink and a smirk, he leans forward and whispers just enough
“I do this for me. Enjoy the ride baby.”
