Just Laying It All Out There
Have you ever felt completely naked while fully clothed? I’m always been told that I’m never tough enough, that I just roll with it and have no problem in remaining less than my ability.
Let’s get something out of the way from the get, there is a fine line between being content in life and people out there actually trying to claim that I don’t want more!
Pardon me, but WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!
If anyone knows me, I do not like to settle for more than a moment when it comes to my career. I’m always looking for some way to improve. And if you don’t see that, than you need to call your doc, have your eyes, your ears and maybe even your brain checked. Take off those damn blinders.
Or better yet, keep talking your shit because me and you? We’re about to have a ‘Come to Jesus’ moment, where you are not going to like the outcome.
You bastards want a more vicious Miles Kasey, instead of the ever loveable Milo?
On your head be it.
The studio lights flickered to life, casting a warm glow over Miles Kasey as he settled into his chair. Across from him, a well-known wrestling journalist flashed a congenial smile. The camera began to roll, capturing the charged atmosphere.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, we have the privilege of sitting down with none other than Miles Kasey, an absolutely outstanding SCW star and some would say the embodiment of resilience and tenacity. Miles, this weekend is participating in Violent Conduct IX and their traditional King for a Day ladder match," the interviewer began, his voice tinged with excitement. "Miles, welcome."
Miles inclined his head, his expression a mixture of confidence and focus. "Thank you for having me."
The interviewer shifted the conversation slightly, his tone now lighthearted. "Let’s talk about the obvious here first and let's talk about something a bit more personal. We've seen your partner, Carter, by your side through thick and thin. How does having that kind of support impact your approach to a match as crucial as King for a Day?"
Miles' expression softened, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Ah, Carter. He's been my anchor, my rock. It’s so easy, when you have a match at the caliber of what I am facing at Violent Conduct. Having him by my side isn't just about having someone to come home to—it's about having someone who understands this world, who understands me. He's seen the sweat, the pain, and the sacrifices that go into what I do."
He leaned back, his gaze distant for a moment. "But it’s just so much more. When I step into that ring, I know I'm not alone. Carter's support fuels me, drives me to push through the challenges. It's a different kind of motivation, a reminder that there's something beyond the cheers and the spotlight. He's a constant reminder of the life waiting beyond those ropes."
The interviewer nodded in understanding. "It sounds like he's more than just a partner to you."
Miles chuckled, a warmth in his eyes. "Absolutely. Let me just put this out there, he is without a doubt my better half. I’m not gonna go all Tom Cruise crazy and whatnot but I love and adore him. He's the one who keeps me grounded, who reminds me that there's more to life than this crazy world of wrestling. His unwavering belief in me, even in my darkest moments, it's like having a piece of home wherever I go."
He leaned in, his tone earnest. "Carter's taught me that the strength to conquer anything I do comes from within, but the strength to conquer life? Well, that comes from the people you choose to share it with."
As he spoke, there was a depth of emotion in Miles' voice, a recognition of the profound impact Carter had on his journey. The human aspect, the personal connection, was an integral part of his preparation for the match.
The interviewer leaned in, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Let's address the recent events, going back to the most recent Climax Control. Your tag match victory followed by an unexpected attack from your own partner, Austin James Mercer. It must've been quite the emotional rollercoaster. How are you processing it all?"
Miles leaned back, a wry grin playing on his lips. "Ah, the tag match. That was a hell of a ride, wasn't it? As for Austin's little 'surprise,' well, it wasn't exactly a shocker. I've had my fair share of encounters with that bloke. But you see, when you've been through the trenches, when you've faced betrayal and pain from life itself, you're not easily fazed. I've taken punches from life that hit a whole lot harder than anything Austin's thrown at me."
The interviewer nodded, his intrigue growing. "Strong words, Miles. Speaking of Austin and your other opponent, Jack, they've been quite vocal about their doubts regarding your ability to seize control, especially in a match like King for a Day. How do you respond to their skepticism?"
Miles leaned forward, his eyes locked onto the camera. "Austin and Jack can talk all they want. I've never been one to rely on words to define me. It's in my actions, my journey. I’ve been called complacent for how my own career has gone. People want me to try and take the fast track, when I am perfectly fine to show people that I am more than capable of standing there, IF I should so choose to do so. I don’t wanna burn out too fast, I wanna be able to enjoy my time in my career. A career where we see people getting so badly hurt at such young ages, that they have no choice but to give it up. As for King for a Day? It's more than just a match. It's a chance for me to prove that I've been seizing control from day one. I've fought uphill battles, faced demons that would've shattered others. This match, this moment, it's the culmination of all I've overcome. And trust me, I won't let their doubts determine my destiny."
The interviewer leaned back slightly, a sense of captivation evident in his expression. "And what's your strategy going into the ladder match? It's a complex and physically demanding match type."
Miles grinned, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. "Ladder matches are about more than just brawn. They're about strategy, about outwitting your opponents. I've been studying, learning from the best in the business. My strategy? It's simple: I'll outlast them and maybe attempt to outsmart them. We’ve all seen what it’s like when I let my brain get in the way and when it comes to those in this match, the three other individuals are far more cerebral than I could possibly ever be. I've climbed metaphorical mountains of doubt, swam through rivers of pain. This ladder? It's just another obstacle, and I'm damn good at overcoming those."
A flicker of admiration crossed the interviewer's eyes as he pressed on. "Any words for your opponents, Miles?"
Miles leaned back, his expression serious. "Austin, Jack, and anyone else underestimating me...keep watching. And please go right ahead and keep doubting. But remember, come Violent Conduct IX, you'll be witnessing a new chapter in my story. A chapter where I take the reins, where I show that I'm not just a contender, but a force to be reckoned with. It's going to be a night that leaves a mark on SCW history."
The interviewer leaned in again, his tone becoming more inquisitive. "Miles, there's one more name that's been conspicuously absent from the recent chatter—Alexander Raven. He's remained rather quiet leading up to Violent Conduct IX. What's your take on his silence and how do you anticipate his presence might factor into the match?"
Miles leaned back, his brow furrowing slightly. "Ah, Alexander Raven. The enigma in the shadows. You see, Raven's silence doesn't fool me. He's a strategist, a thinker. I've been in the ring with him before, I know what he's capable of. His quiet demeanor? It's a facade, a smokescreen. Underestimate him, and you'll be playing right into his hands."
He leaned forward again, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Raven's not the type to make noise for the sake of it. He's saving his energy, biding his time. But let me tell you something—I won't make the mistake of overlooking him. I've faced adversity from all sides, and I'm prepared for whatever curveballs he might throw. The quiet ones? They're often the most dangerous."
The interviewer nodded, a sense of intrigue coloring his features. "So, you're keeping a close eye on Raven?"
Miles smiled, a mixture of respect and caution evident in his expression. "Absolutely. I’d be a fool to not take his threat seriously, much like I’d be an absolute belland for not feeling threatened by Austin and Jack. Because I know that when they do make a move, it'll be calculated, it'll be impactful. I will say that Raven might be the wildcard in this match, but I won't let any surprises catch me off guard. I'll be ready for whatever any of them brings to the table."
As Miles spoke, there was a palpable tension in the air, a recognition that in a match like King for a Day, every participant would bring their unique strengths to the battleground.
The interviewer grinned, a sense of camaraderie in his tone. "Well, there you have it, folks. Miles Kasey, resolute and ready to seize control at Violent Conduct IX. Thank you for sharing your insights with us, Miles."
Miles stood up, extending his hand with a confident smile. "Thank you. And to everyone watching, brace yourselves for Violent Conduct IX. It's going to be a night of unforgettable action."
As Miles walked off set, the studio lights casting a final glow around him, the sense of unyielding determination he exuded lingered in the air—a testament to his unwavering spirit in the face of challenge.
Restless Night
Let it be known though, through the swagger, the smirks and all- I am my own worst critic. I could easily live in my own head 24/7 and what good does that do for me?
A lot of sleepless nights.
My energy level has been jacked for the better part of a week too. I’ve been lucky to get a solid 3 hours of sleep at times. Tonight, no exception and I’m not about to keep Carter up for all hours of the night to work through my own bullshit. He gets a little cranky on little sleep and there is not enough caffeine to remotely make up for it.
So here I am. In my own head.
The hotel room was steeped in darkness, the only source of light being the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Carter lay in peaceful slumber, his steady breaths a soothing lullaby. But for Miles, sleep remained elusive, his mind a swirl of thoughts and emotions.
He tossed and turned, the sheets tangling around his legs, as his gaze flicked restlessly between the ceiling and his phone resting on the nightstand. His heart raced, the anticipation of the match and the undercurrent of adrenaline refusing to let him find respite.
With a frustrated sigh, Miles reached for his phone, the screen casting an eerie glow in the dim room. His fingers danced over the screen, scrolling through his messages. Then, a notification caught his eye—a message from Bella. His lips curved into a small smile.
"Hey, stranger," her message read.
Miles' thumbs danced over the keyboard as he typed out a reply. "Hey yourself. Can't sleep?"
Almost immediately, Bella's response appeared. "Nope, wide awake. Máire's got me on mommy duty."
Chuckling softly, he pulled himself out of bed carefully so as to not wake Carter and Miles typed as he made his way into an area separate from the bedroom, "Ah, the joys of parenthood. How's the little one doing?"
“Hold on.” is what he got next, followed quickly by a video chat via messenger as Bella's smile was evident as she was cuddling her daughter in one arm while holding her phone with the other, "She's an almost three-week-old bundle of energy, even at this hour."
Miles chuckled, seeing Bella's hands full with her newborn daughter. "Just like her dear old mum. Well, at least you're not alone in the sleepless nights."
Bella's laughter seemed to fill the room, despite the distance. "True that. So what has you up so late, recently? So, pre-match jitters?"
Miles leaned back against the pillows, a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation evident in his gaze. "Yeah, you could say that. It's like my mind's racing a million miles an hour."
Bella's eyes sparkled with understanding. "I remember that feeling, even if it was from a different kind of performance."
Miles smiled, the familiarity of their friendship providing a sense of comfort. "You were always good at channeling that energy."
Bella shrugged playfully. "Or maybe just good at hiding the nerves."
Miles chuckled, his restlessness momentarily forgotten. "You've always been a pro at that."
Bella leaned back, her expression softening. "So, King for a Day. Big deal, huh?"
Miles nodded, a mixture of determination and excitement in his eyes. "Yeah, it's a hell of an opportunity. A chance to show the world that I'm not just a fighter, but a strategist too. And that's what I've been working on. Besides Lach, it doesn’t seem like much of the gang from Wolfslair wants to remind me of it because they’re trying so hard to stay out of the middle of all this stuff going on between myself and Austin."
Bella leaned in, her expression serious yet encouraging. "Hey, listen to me. You got this, Miles. I've seen you overcome hurdles that would've broken others. You've got the heart and the talent. Now it's just a matter of seizing that moment."
"Thanks, Bella," Miles said sincerely. "Means a lot coming from you. It's just...sometimes the weight of it all, you know? But talking to you, it kind of eases the tension."
Bella's smile was gentle. "That's what friends are for, right? That and I’m sure Carter will appreciate you talking someone else’s ear off and letting him sleep."
Miles nodded, a grateful warmth flooding his chest. "Absolutely. ...wait...has he said anything?"
“Just the lack of sleep he’s been getting, that and the one twitter post where he was cranky.” she teased, “Call it a mother’s intuition. Find that comes it quite useful with you guys.”
They chatted for a while longer, about wrestling, life outside the ring, and everything in between. The screen cast a soft glow on Miles' face as their conversation flowed effortlessly. The restlessness that had plagued him earlier began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of connection and camaraderie.
As the conversation came to a close, Bella yawned, her eyes twinkling, she had long since put her daughter down in her crib. "Well, I should probably try to get some sleep before Máire's next feeding."
Miles chuckled, his own exhaustion catching up to him. "Yeah, I should probably attempt that too. Thanks for this, Bella. Seriously."
Bella's smile was warm and genuine. "Anytime, Miles. You know where to find me. Good luck. Kick some ass out there."
"You too. Take care," Miles said as they bid each other goodbye.
The screen went dark, leaving the room in soft shadows once again. Miles settled back against the pillows, a sense of calm washing over him. Though sleep might still be elusive, the weight of the upcoming match felt a little lighter, thanks to a friend who understood the intricacies of the wrestling world.
He smirked and laughed that one of the best friends he could ever ask for knew how to break him down and get him to at least rest a little bit. He would carefully crawl back into bed next to Carter and pull him close. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the connections he had made, the support he had, and the journey that had led him to this moment. The night might be restless, but there was a quiet confidence that was building within him—a fire that would guide him through the challenges that lay ahead.
Seizing Control: A View from the Shadows
The arena was cloaked in darkness, a stark contrast to the blinding spotlight that awaited its moment. Miles Kasey stood at the edge of the ring, the canvas beneath his boots almost buzzing with anticipation. His silhouette was sharp against the dimness, his outline etched in the subtle play of light and shadow.
"So, I stand at the crossroads of doubt and determination," his voice, low and resonant, sliced through the stillness. "I can still hear their voices—the skeptics, the naysayers—questioning my ability to seize the big victories that have been plaguing me on and off for quite some time. But doubt is just another opponent, and I've faced worse. Doubt is the fire that fuels my ambition, that drives me to reach heights I once thought impossible."
As his words echoed through the arena, a projection began to play on the screen behind him. Images of his past battles, his triumphs, and his moments of vulnerability flashed by in rapid succession. It was a visual representation of the journey that had brought him to this pivotal juncture.
"It's funny, you know?" he continued, his gaze fixed on the screen. "Life is a lot like this match. A ladder of challenges, each rung taking us higher, each step fraught with uncertainty. But we climb because we crave something beyond the struggle. We climb for the view from the top, for the moments that make every bruise and every tear worthwhile."
The spotlight intensified, casting a stark contrast between Miles and the surrounding darkness. His form appeared almost ethereal, as if he was a beacon of resolve in the midst of the unknown.
"And as I ascend that ladder tonight, I'm not alone," his voice held a note of conviction, of unity. "I carry the lessons of those who came before me, the mentors and the friends who've shaped my journey. And I carry the camaraderie of those that have cheered me on, who've shared in my victories and defeats."
With each word he spoke, the screen behind him showcased the faces of those who had been a part of his wrestling odyssey—his partner, his friends, and the fans who had stood by him through thick and thin.
"Austin James Mercer, Jack Washington, and Alexander Raven," his tone shifted, an edge of determination piercing through. "The men that even the smartest gambler would bet on as the sure thing to walk away with that Golden Briefcase that is going to be hanging high above the ring."
As he spoke, images of his opponents flashed on the screen—one by one, their faces appeared, each accompanied by snippets of their confrontations.
"But there when you come down to it," he continued, his voice gaining intensity, "and nothing against these men, when it comes to hunger and the absolute NEED to shut all three of them up."
The screen transitioned to show the three opponents he named, each in a moment of triumphant arrogance.
"Yeah, that goes to yours truly," he declared, his voice unwavering. "I’m not blind. I am certainly not deaf. I hear every single thing that is being said about me and about how it seems like I am complacent with being in the middle."
As he spoke, the images shifted to show headlines and tweets questioning his place in the wrestling world, doubting his capability.
"Some would even say that I don’t even belong there," his voice carried a mixture of frustration and resolve. "I have been working myself down to the absolute bone, trying to figure out what exactly it would take to finally live up to each and every one of your supposed expectations."
The images on the screen began to blur, overlaid by a transparent image of Miles in a contemplative pose.
"And the more I worried about that," his voice softened, tinged with self-discovery, "The more I realized that if I finally gave in, if I finally am like ‘yeah you’re right’ I would turn into bitter, cocky pricks that seemingly do not give a rats ass about anyone but themselves."
The screen shifted to show moments of his vulnerability—times when he questioned his own worth.
"I’m supposed to run with a pack," his tone grew resolute, "That pack is supposed to have each other's backs. Instead, I find myself the lone wolf of the pack because it has to always be the hard way."
Images of his friends, his alliances, juxtaposed with moments of isolation.
"I have had no issues with that in the past and I certainly have no problems with it now," his voice resonated with a mix of acceptance and defiance.
The screen was dominated by a stark image of a wolf, fierce and untamed, embodying Miles' spirit.
"I can feel it, I can feel that moment is right there," his voice surged with anticipation, "And just because of three men that seem to think they can make me the fodder of every single joke they have about the guy that ‘Should have been the next big one but keep tripping at the finish line’, they feel like I am unworthy of getting this crowning achievement."
The screen transitioned to show the opponents' taunts, the laughter that had echoed in his ears.
"And make no mistake," his tone turned fierce, "I have had no issue in making fun at the expense of myself but I am so totally fucking over the whispers."
Images of Miles confronting his opponents, of standing tall in the face of mockery.
"And it’s about damn time, don’t you think?" his words hung in the air, charged with determination.
The screen displayed a moment frozen in time, Miles looking into the distance, a fierce determination in his eyes.
"Actually I wanna thank Austin and Jack and even Raven," his voice took on a touch of gratitude, "For shelling out my weaknesses for the whole world to see, just so I don’t have to."
Images of his opponents' criticisms and provocations, overlaid with images of Miles in contemplation.
"I actually have to thank you," his tone shifted, grew resolute, "For actually not whispering behind my back because you all know exactly what I am capable of."
Images of Miles fighting back, his spirit unyielding in the face of adversity.
"And I’m about to prove it in one of the most spectacular ways ever," his voice swelled with conviction.
The screen shifted to show moments of Miles' training, his preparation, his unwavering dedication.
"And you better believe that I’m gonna take advantage of it in the grandest way ever," his words echoed, charged with the energy of his determination.
The screen displayed images of Miles in victorious moments, his hand raised in triumph.
"Just remember, YOU wanted this," his voice was a battle cry, a declaration of his readiness.
The screen faded to black, leaving the arena in darkness once more, the echoes of Miles' words lingering in the air.
"Now, you’re gonna get it."