Saturday Night
Westminster Hotel
London
While it wasn’t the most popular choice, at Miles' insistence, to keep from crowding his sister’s home with two more bodies, he checked himself and Carter into a hotel for the stay. And if anything after having to deal with Garrett’s mother, they could always use some split time away from one another to just breathe.
“Miles, are you sure everything is okay?” a female voice came through the phone as Miles rode down the elevator, “You and Carter just seemed so drained even after we got that ...witch out of there.”
“Trust me, Bri, it is fine.” He would look up and around, one thing about London, cameras everywhere and here was no exception, “Carter is feeling horrible about the things he said to Garrett’s mother, so be prepared for a never-ending string of texts, DMs, calls, and maybe even some amazing arrangements of flowers and whatever he comes up with Garrett as an apology.”
“That’s really not necessary, the way she has treated Carter since our wedding, then mom and how she was so snooty to you...”
“And to you and to her own damn son. I’m honestly at the point where if my brother-in-law doesn’t at least go no contact with that bitch, I may lose a little respect for him."
The elevator dings, and Miles steps out onto the marble flooring.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. What are you up to anyway?”
“Came down because we ran out of towels and the front desk wasn’t answering so I’m taking matters into my own hands.” But as he turned to talk to the front desk, no one was there, “Lovely, apparently they decided to pop off to have a smoke.”
“Maybe they're getting freaky in the back?”
“If this wasn’t a highly respected hotel, I would say perhaps,” he laughed, looking around, but his eyes stopped short when he caught a figure sitting in the lobby, staring with so much distance and fire that if it were all possible, she would probably be able to drop him dead where he stands, “Oh, apparently the bitch’s broomstick still works.”
“She’s THERE?!? Alright, fuck this, I’m coming right over.”
“No, don’t bother. It’s time I handle this bitch myself. If I need help hiding the body...”
“I’ll keep the kettle warm.”
Wendy Barnes. This woman is a thorn in his family’s side, and it is going to come to an end.
Miles would set her right, once and for all.
In about five wide strides into the lobby, he practically stood over her, her eyes never leaving his, “Wendy, taking to stalking your in-laws now?”
“Mm, something like that. Honestly, Miles, the way you and your lot acted tonight...”
“Was exactly what you deserved, Wendy. First of all, you are lucky my sister can handle herself and Garrett won’t stand for your... what’s a polite way to put this... snobbery?”
Wendy's expression remained cold and calculating as she tilted her head slightly, studying Miles with a mixture of disdain and curiosity. “I have every right to be concerned about my son's well-being, Miles. And after what I witnessed tonight, I have serious doubts about the stability of your family dynamic.”
Miles gritted his teeth, his patience wearing thin with every word that came out of Wendy's mouth. “Our family dynamic is none of your concern,” he retorted sharply. “And as for Garrett, he's a grown man capable of making his own decisions. It is really true what they say that you can pick your friends but not your family, at least the ones by blood. But, seeing as he even had enough of your shenanigans at dinner, I would seriously reconsider how you handle yourself around your son, if I were you.”
Wendy's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Miles could see the flicker of anger behind her cold facade. “You think you know everything, don't you? But let me tell you something, Miles Kasey. You may have everyone else fooled with your charming smile and your flashy wrestling career, but I see right through you. I know exactly what kind of man you are.”
Miles felt a surge of anger bubbling up inside him, but he forced himself to stay calm. He couldn't let Wendy get to him, not now. “Oh, do you now?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And what kind of man am I, in your esteemed opinion?”
Wendy leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Besides the filthy lifestyle with your...partner...You're just like your father,” she hissed. “A coward and a failure.”
The words hit Miles like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he was speechless. His father had always been a sore subject, a painful reminder of everything Miles had tried to escape from. And here was Wendy, throwing his father's failures back in his face like a weapon.
But Miles refused to let her see how much her words had affected him. With a steely glare, he straightened up to his full height, towering over Wendy as he locked eyes with her. “You have no idea what you're talking about,” he said, his voice cold and hard. “And if you ever dare to compare me to my father again, I swear to God, you'll regret it. I hated that man, even in death and what he did to my mum and to Bri and I and God knows who else...so...if you excuse me.”
Miles turned to try and grab the attention of the front desk staff and to leave this woman in her own self-pity and Wendy recoiled slightly at the intensity in Miles' voice, but she quickly composed herself and stood up to face him. “You can threaten me all you want, Miles. But I won't stand idly by and watch you destroy my family.”
“Your family?” Miles scoffed. “Last time I checked, Garrett was the one that married Bri, he is the father of your only grandchild, who for some reason absolutely adores you. The only reason you seem to have a problem with any of it is because Bri’s twin brother is in a committed relationship with another man. And somehow you think that destroys your precious family dynamic. That has been obvious to practically everyone since you had the pleasure of meeting me. You really need to get your priorities straight before you end up utterly alone, Ms. Barnes.”
With that, Miles turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Wendy standing there in stunned silence. Making his way over to the front desk and finally making a request for the towels that he originally came down here for and maybe see if he could get a bottle of whiskey after having to deal with this woman for the 2nd time in a few hours.
When the attendant left to go grab what he needed he could hear Wendy huff and grab her large oversized purse from the floor. Shortly after that that’s when she stomps over with her Louboutin heels and slams a folder down next to him, “Don’t think you know everything about your family, Mr. Kasey.”
And with that she walked away, the file sitting to his left. He looks at it for a second and almost grabs it but then a big pile of fluffy white towels drops on top of it. “There you go, Mr. Kasey and sorry about that once again. I’ll make sure that the rest gets to you as soon as we can.”
“Yeah, thanks.” as he scoops the whole thing along with the file.
As Miles made his way back to the elevator, his mind was reeling with thoughts of his father and the painful memories he had long tried to bury but the file in his hand told me that the sins of his father were about to rear their ugly head again. He knew Wendy Barnes was trying to get under his skin, to provoke him into reacting. But he refused to let her win. He had come too far, fought too hard, to let someone like her tear him down.
When the boys returned home to Las Vegas, the file Wendy had given him remained tucked away, untouched, in his bag. He couldn't bring himself to open it. But as hours turned into days, the file seemed to taunt him, its presence a constant reminder of the secrets lurking within.
Time and again, Miles found himself on the verge of looking inside, only to be interrupted by work commitments, training obligations, or simply his own apprehension. He knew that once he opened that file, there would be no turning back. He would be forced to confront the truth, no matter how painful it might be.
But finally, one quiet evening, with Carter asleep beside him, Miles summoned the courage to face what lay inside. With trembling hands, he opened the bedside table’s drawer, reaching for the file and pulled out the stack of papers within. As he flipped through them, his heart pounding in his chest, he felt a surge of emotions wash over him.
The documents revealed a truth he had long suspected but never wanted to acknowledge: his father had indeed led a double life, with another family in a small town just north of Manchester, a little town called Middleton. According to the records, his father had taken up with a woman named Rebecca shortly after Miles and Brianna were born, and they had a son together in 2002, the child was not even 3 when their dad died.
Miles stared at the papers in disbelief, his mind reeling with questions. Who was this half-brother he never knew existed? What had his father been thinking, keeping such a massive secret from his own children and the woman that put up with his drunken bullshit for so damn long?
As the weight of the truth sank in, Miles felt a mixture of anger, sadness, and confusion. Did this brother even know that he had two older siblings? And what was worse...there was a name, Lyle. It would be better if he had a picture but to name this child Lyle...The same damned name of that bastard that gave his seed to the three and who knows how many other Kasey spawn.
With a heavy heart, Miles tucked the documents back into the file and set it aside. He knew that this was only the beginning of this adventure, that there were still many challenges ahead. But for now, he would take things one step at a time, determined to uncover the truth and make sense of the tangled web his father had left behind. He may have been blindsided by his father's secrets, but he refused to let them define him. With Carter by his side, he knew that he could face whatever the future held, no matter how daunting it may seem.
Inside the Go Gym
Las Vegas, NV
The Go Gym was alive with energy as Miles stepped through the doors, the sound of weights clanging and trainers shouting filling the air. He made his way over to the wrestling ring where Kristjan, known to many as K or Fenris, was waiting for him.
"Hey, K," Miles greeted him with a nod. "Ready to put me through the wringer?"
K grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Always, Milo. Today, we're going to work on something special."
Miles raised an eyebrow. "Special how?"
K motioned for Miles to step into the ring, a smirk playing on his lips. "Remember how we’ve been talking about the one thing you think you’re missing? Well, I've been thinking about it and I think I’ve found that new submission move to add to your arsenal. Something that'll catch your opponents off guard but something with your strengths that you have will be damn near impossible for them to escape."
“You have my attention,” Intrigued, Miles climbed into the ring, his mind momentarily distracted from thoughts of his newfound half-brother. He focused on the task at hand, eager to lose himself in the world of wrestling.
As K began to demonstrate the new move, Miles watched intently, taking mental notes of every twist and turn. Together, they practiced tirelessly, K offering guidance and encouragement every step of the way. The poor trainee that turned into their practice dummy had been put through it with those two with how much they were determined to perfect it.
Meanwhile, in the corner of the gym, a new face caught Miles's eye. A young wrestler, barely out of his teens, was shadowing one of the trainers, his movements hesitant yet determined. But every once in a while, he would catch the young man watching him and Fenris rather intently.
Curiosity piqued, Miles approached the young wrestler, extending a hand in greeting. "Hey there, I'm Miles. What's your name?"
The young man looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes before he offered a shy smile. "I'm LJ," he replied, his British accent tinged with nervousness. "I'm part of the exchange program from the UK, invited personally by Gabriel Stevens. Sorry I was staring, just couldn’t help it."
Miles nodded, impressed by LJ's determination to train in a foreign country. "Well, LJ, welcome to Go. Also, don’t worry about the whole starring thing, it tends to happen around here when I work with Kristjan. I have a feeling you're going to fit in just fine. Just avoid the big brooding sweaty asshole in the ring and you’ll live to make it back to your family in one piece."
“I FUCKIN’ HEARD THAT, MILO! Get your ass in here!”
They both cringe and Miles shakes his head, “He’s also got ears like a dog. Either way, pleasure meetin’ ya, mate. Good to meet people from the home country anyways.” he shook LJ’s hand one more time before Miles returned to the ring, ready to continue his training with K.
As the time flew by, he threw himself into the practice, the weight of his family's secrets momentarily forgotten in the thrill of the fight. Even Carter had joined them and taken a seat at ringside to watch his fiance work hard.
By the time the session came to an end, Miles was drenched in sweat but grinning from ear to ear. With K's help, he had mastered the new submission move and felt more confident than ever about his upcoming match against Peter Vaughn.
“Now to just come up with a name for it,” Miles laughed, running his hands through his soaked curls.
“Oh I’m sure there are several there but I’m coming up absolutely blank at the moment.”
“Well I can’t have you do all the work, I’m sure there has to be a name that fits absolutely per-”
“THIRST TRAP!!!” That caught both men’s attention as Carter blurted it out before covering his mouth. “I mean...It works!”
Miles and K look at each other for a moment and Miles gets a shit eating grin on his face, “Thirst Trap it is.”
K just sighed, “Sweet Christ, of course you’d go that way. Get out of my ring and go home before we go another round.”
Miles laughed as he rolled out of the ring, to greet Carter with a kiss as a thank you. “I think a shower is needed before we leave.” And Carter mumbled about a shower at home before he agreed. Miles told him to give him a few minutes and as he made his way to the locker rooms he glanced over at LJ, who was still deep in conversation with the trainer. Something about the determined look in LJ's eyes reminded Miles of his own journey to become a wrestler, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with the young man.
My Mt. Everest
Las Vegas, NV
Miles sat behind his desk in his office, a room that sometimes doubles as his own personal game room in the home that he and Carter built together, well, not the building persay but the inside was all them. But the condo that they called home...THAT he was able to buy with his money, saving practically everything he could just so he could find a place to call his own and eventually Carter could call his.
To his right, sat his SCW Internet Championship gleaming beside him. As he listened to Peter Vaughn's disparaging words on his laptop screen, a mixture of anger and determination surged through him.
Miles leaned back in his chair, the words of Peter Vaughn echoing in his mind like a relentless drumbeat. With a furrowed brow, he mulled over each arrogant remark, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"By failing to prepare, you're preparing to fail," Peter had said, his voice dripping with condescension. The quote, attributed to Benjamin Franklin, had struck a chord with Miles, igniting a fierce determination to prove Peter wrong.
"Sure, the guy's got some dents in his reputation now, but he sure had a way with quotations," Peter had added, his tone laced with mocking amusement. But Miles wasn't about to let Peter's smug commentary go unchallenged.
"So, Peter thinks he's some kind of sage now, spouting off inspirational quotes to justify his own arrogance," Miles muttered to himself, a wry smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, here's one for you, Peter: 'Pride goeth before a fall.'"
Miles's gaze hardened as he recalled Peter's dismissive remarks about his preparation for their upcoming match. The implication that Miles hadn't been training his ass off, that he wasn't fully prepared to face Peter in the ring, lit a fire in Miles's belly that threatened to consume him.
"Peter seems awfully confident that he's got me all figured out," Miles muttered, his voice tinged with quiet determination. "But he's about to learn that he's underestimated me for the last time."
With a sense of purpose burning in his chest, Miles rose from his chair, his championship belt clenched tightly in his hand. The weight of the gold felt like a talisman, a symbol of his strength, his resilience, his unwavering determination to overcome whatever obstacles stood in his path.
"Peter Vaughn may think he's got the upper hand and he will tell everyone that is remotely within ear shot that he has the proverbial ball in his court," Miles declared, his voice ringing with quiet resolve. "But he's about to find out that I'm not the same man he faced before. I've been preparing for this moment my entire life, and I'm not about to let him stand in my way."
Miles's fingers drummed impatiently on the desk as he replayed Peter Vaughn's words in his mind. Each barb, each insult, each smug declaration fueled the growing fire within him.
"And he seems to think he's got me all figured out, and they always do. They ALL do, especially the egocentric dickbags that always think that they are so much better than me" Miles muttered to himself, his voice laced with quiet contempt. "Thinks he can waltz in here and belittle everything I've worked for, everything I've sacrificed, with a few clever words and a cocky smirk. I’d claim that shit but we all know how many have come and gone with that same bullshit attitude and have left just as fast."
The memory of Peter's mocking tone, his arrogant swagger, made Miles's blood boil. Who did Peter think he was, to pass judgment on Miles's dedication, his commitment, his integrity?
"He's got it all wrong," Miles growled, his voice low and dangerous. "He seems to think I'm just here for the ride, to coast along on my laurels, to bask in the glory of my championship without putting in the work. Thinks I'm some kind of amateur, some kind of joke. And I’m not going to lie, Peter Vaugh is my Mt Everest, and I’m bound and determined to make it not only a personal victory but one of my best yet."
But Miles knew better. He knew the truth. Knew the blood, sweat, and tears he'd poured into every training session, every match, every victory. Knew the sacrifices he'd made, the obstacles he'd overcome, the demons he'd battled.
"He wants to talk about preparation?" Miles scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. "Fine. Let's talk about preparation. Let's talk about the countless hours I've spent in the gym, pushing myself to the limit, honing my skills, perfecting my craft. The amount of learning trees that I have sat under, shaking it for all it’s worth to see what will fall out of to get that much fucking better, Peter. Let's talk about the sacrifices I've made, the pain I've endured, the setbacks I've overcome."
Miles's eyes blazed with determination as he spoke, his voice growing stronger with each word. He refused to let Peter Vaughn's arrogance undermine everything he'd worked for, everything he stood for.
“But no, this son of a bitch thinks he's got me all figured out," Miles declared, his voice ringing with quiet defiance. "But he's about to learn that he's underestimated me for the last time. He wants a fight? Fine. He's got one. And when all is said and done, it'll be Peter Vaughn who's left lying on the mat, staring up at the champion. And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll peel your ass off the mat and offer my hand, to shake, because mate, despite how little you think of me, I will always be the better man."
Miles leaned back in his chair, picking up the belt he fought so hard for to have and to keep all this time. The weight of the SCW Internet Championship rested heavily in his hands. For seven months, that title had been more than just a symbol of his success—it had been a validation of everything he'd worked for, everything he'd fought for, everything he'd sacrificed.
"You want to talk about what being the SCW Internet Champion means to me?" Miles said, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and determination. "It means everything. It means proving to myself, to the world, that I belong here, that I'm worthy of this spotlight, that I'm capable of achieving greatness."
Miles's eyes sparkled with emotion as he spoke, his passion for the sport evident in every word. Being the SCW Internet Champion hadn't just been about winning matches or collecting accolades—it had been about pushing himself to be the best, about rising to the challenge, about proving his doubters wrong.
"For seven months, I've poured my heart and soul into this championship," Miles continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "I've defended it with everything I've got, against some of the toughest competitors in the world. Some that Peter Vaughn would look down upon but I KNOW BETTER! I've fought tooth and nail, time and time again, to keep this title around my waist, to prove that I'm not just a flash in the pan, that I'm not just a placeholder."
The memories of his hard-fought battles, his triumphant victories, his crushing defeats, flooded Miles's mind as he spoke. Being the SCW Internet Champion had been a rollercoaster of emotions, a journey filled with highs and lows, twists and turns, but through it all, Miles had never wavered in his determination to be the best.
"And now, Vaughn thinks he can come in here and take it all away from me," Miles said, his voice hardening with resolve. "Thinks he can belittle everything I've accomplished, everything I've sacrificed, with a few clever words and a cocky smirk. Well, he's got another thing coming. Because I refuse to let him tarnish everything I've worked for, everything I've fought for, everything I've sacrificed."
With a resolute nod, Miles rose from his chair, his championship belt clenched tightly in his hand. The fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever, fueled by the desire to prove Peter Vaughn wrong, to silence his taunts once and for all.
"Let's do this," Miles muttered, a fierce determination coursing through his veins. "It's time to show Peter Vaughn what I'm made of. And trust me, he's not going to like what he sees."
With a steely glint in his eyes, Miles marched towards the ring, his heart pounding with anticipation. Peter Vaughn may be a formidable opponent, but Miles was ready to meet him head-on, armed with determination, grit, and a burning desire to emerge victorious. And when the final bell rang, it would be Peter who was left standing in the shadow of Miles's triumph.
