May 26, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Jamie set foot through the curtains of the infamously named gorilla position, his body drenched in sweat in his face a mask to hide away the pain he felt his body going through. He was greeted by random Superstars and Bombshells, all of whom were either close friends of Ben Jordan for those familiar with his past exploits as a member of Team BJ. He was offered congratulations by competitor and staff member alike, shook some hands and even went openly when one such person clapped him hard on the back and congratulations, not understanding or reading the room to which the pain he was in.
But one person who could easily read a room due to experience and the fact he was just that knowledgeable was one of the co-owners of Sin City Wrestling, namely Mark Ward himself. Jamie glanced up en route to the men's locker room to find Mark standing there and holding out an ice pack in his hand. Accepting it with a grateful nod, Jamie placed the ice pack against the back of his neck as the boss man himself took us a step forward.
“Congratulations.” Mark offered with that familiar gentlemanly smile of his. “You did it. Again.”
To which Jamie closed his eyes and a soft chuckle escaped his lips, while he felt the ice doing its work in numbing the nerve endings that were practically screaming from inside out. He said, “I'm starting to wonder if this is a good thing or a bad thing.”
Which only caused Mark to scoff, but in a good natured way. Taking no offense at the words spoken.
Jamie then opened his eyes and, “Seriously. Thank you. I never thought I'd be standing here today, ready to challenge the champion. Especially after stepping away all those years ago and then getting eliminated in my first match back.”
“Well, you earned it.” Mark replied. “Despite what the Champion might think.” With a satisfied smile, Mark then held up a clipboard where upon it was an official SCW contract for Into the Void XIII. He offered it over to Jamie and said with much gratification, “You earned this.”
Jamie accepted the contract with a smile and after flipping it open to the page required, he signed right on the dotted line to make his championship match against Finn Whelan in two weeks an official thing. Jamie handed the contract back to Mark, saying genuinely, “Thank you.”
Mark nodded and took his hand in a firm handshake before taking his leave and allowing Jamie to continue on his way to get freshened up and dressed, and perhaps even a check up in the medic station. But before Jamie could go too far along the hallways, a backstage manager approached, holding out a cell phone.
“Jamie?” The stage manager said. “You got a call the moment you won.”
“Me?” Jamie made a quizzical face before taking the phone from the young man, who turned away to go about his business while Jamie answered, “Hello?”
“Congrats, mate!” The voice of Jamie’s closest friend in the business, Ben Jordan, spoke from the other end. “I bloody well knew you could do it!”
“Well, that makes one of us.” Jamie only half jested, but then added, “I would have been happy no matter what so long as that cum rag Teddy didn’t win.”
“Atta boy!” Ben chuckled, but his tone just as easily switched to one that was half supportive, half commanding officer which was ironic given the nature of the 2024 tour that he was currently embarking on. “But don’t make light of yer chances. You got this.”
“I appreciate that, Ben.” Jamie sighed. “I just wish…”
“No, uh uh!” Ben interrupted before Jamie could finish whatever potentially negative thought it was that he was about to utter. “This isn’t about the kids. This isn’t about Oasis. This is about you doing something that you once told me you’d never do. You’re going to win that championship and then we’re going to think about our kids! Because think about how they’re going to react when you walk through those doors with that shiny gold belt around your waist!”
“You certainly know how to make a man’s confidence perk up.” Jamie quipped, to which Ben replied in jest, “I ain’t makin’ nothing on you pop up, son. I’m just stating facts. And the fact is, I rented us out a gym for when you get back to LA.”
“Why?” Jamie frowned.
“Why?” Ben replied, and Jamie could hear the disbelief in Ben’s voice, even through that thick, Cockney accent of his. “Maybe because you’re not about to become champion by coming back here for two weeks and sittin’ on yer arse. I’m going to put yer arse through the wringer…”
And just as Jamie’s face lit up in comedic jest, Ben’s words cut through, “Yeah I wish I had a change of words the moment I said that.” Causing Jamie to snort.
“I’ll see you in a couple days when I get back.” Jamie offered, to which Ben replied, “I’ll text you the name of the place and the address. Catch ya then.” And only then did the call end. Jamie looked at the phone and handed it back over to the stage manager who took his leave. Jamie realized just how lucky he was to have someone like ‘the Cockney King’ firmly behind him.
Again, pun unintended.
Gym Dandy - Los Angeles
One would think that the name of the gym itself should have tipped Jamie Dean off that Ben Jordan was up to something. After all, the two had been close friends since the first time that they had teamed together and remained so even up until this very day. They knew each other as well as one gay man and one uber hetero might – but there were times when Jamie had blinders on where Ben was concerned, and this was one of those times.
Jamie had entered the gym, dressed casually for the Los Angeles heat, sporting a hot pink muscle shirt that emphasized his arms and sculpted upper body, along with a pair of white shorts And matching high tops. He carried his gym bag over his shoulder but he did not get far in the facilities before he lowered the metallic pink shades from over his eyes to look around at his surroundings, in search for any sign of the Cockney King but there was no sign of him.
At least, not yet.
But that was when he felt the familiar thrum of his phone’s vibration, going off in the loose pockets of his not-so-loose shorts. Fishing the phone from his pocket, he glanced at the caller ID and frowned upon seeing the name of ‘Ben Jordan’ on the screen. He immediately hit the answer option and almost chastised, “Ben, what the hell…? I’m here…”
“I know, mate. I’m sorry.” Ben’s voice came from the other end of the call. “I tried to call you earlier but didn’t have reception. I’m not going to be able to make it…”
“You got me up at this ungodly hour and now you’re telling me…?”
“I’d say don’t get yer knickers in a twist but we all know you don’t wear any.” Ben jested, but Jamie was admittedly feeling a touch heated at having gotten up in Pacific Palisades so early to have made this trip for virtually nothing. But before he could utter a caustic word in reply, Ben’s voice came across the call once again, “I’ll be there later, I swear. But in the meantime, I got a mate of mine to help you out until I get there.”
“A friend of yours…?” Jamie frowned, clearly skeptical. “It’s not that Fenris guy, is it!? That guy is a fucking beast and he’d break me in half!”
“And you’d love every damn minute of it ya sick bastard.” Ben laughed. “But no, it’s not K. Someone else I’ve known for a fair few years. He used to wrestle. Knows some MMA…”
“Sounds like Fenris to me…”
“It’s NOT Fenris!” Ben barked. “Just trust me on this! His name’s Su-Jin Chun.”
“Gesundheit.”
“Be nice!” Ben laughed. “Trust me, yer in good hands.”
“If you say so.” Jamie sighed. “But hurry up and get your ass here.”
The call ended and Jamie again looked around for any sign of this mysterious friend of Ben Jordan. A gym trainer walked past and Jamie called to him, “Excuse me?”
“Yes sir?”
Jamie asked, “I hope I don’t make a fool of myself and mispronounce this name but do you know of a Su-Jin….?”
“Su-Jin Chun?” The employee smiled, finishing the name for him so as he wouldn’t have to butcher it himself. “Yes sir. He’s right over there.”
Jamie’s eyes followed over toward where the employee pointed and Jamie couldn’t help but feel both his heart and stomach flutter at the site that stood inside of the training ring. There stood an extremely handsome Korean man in his mid to late forties. He was wearing his own gym outfit, namely those spandex black shorts and a matching mesh muscle shirt open wide at the arms. This gave Jamie a tantalizing view of every muscle on his 5’10” frame being sculpted to perfection.
Sensing eyes upon him, the man turned to look and met Jamie’s eyes and a stern visage was lit up and his face transformed by a beautiful smile. He held up a hand in greeting and Jamie took that as an immediate invitation, and walked across the gym, bypassing several others working out until he arrived at ringside. Su-Jin leaned against the ropes, his forearms resting along the top rope. It was then Jamie saw that thick head of jet black hair but with this adorable streak of silver in the one lock at his bangs.
He also just so happened to notice the rainbow pin on the upper right side of his muscle shirt as Su-Jin said, “I hope you’re Jamie.” But the words did not surprise Jamie half as much as the English accent behind them.
“Sorry!” Jamie half laughed. “You just surprised me a bit there. I wasn’t expecting an English accent!”
And the smile remained pearly white as Su-Jin answered, “Well I may be South Korean but I was born and raised in London.”
“And that’s where you met Ben?” Jamie asked, to which he was answered, “Ben is a hard man to miss. Known him for a long time from the London pubs and a few indie shows we both passed through.”
Jamie nodded, finding himself transfixed by this man so suddenly. He jetted a thumb off in the general direction of the locker rooms and stammered, “I-I… I’ll just go and get changed. Then we can get down and dirty.”
Jamie turned around only to hear the words of promise behind him, “Time and place, time and place.” Almost causing him to trip but he quickly regained himself and went about to get changed. Jamie shook his head with a growing smile on his face, realizing what Ben had just done.
“You sneaky son of a…”
The opening shot is that of the Battleship Missouri Memorial, and more specifically a close up shot of some sparkling red, white and blue boots with matching tassels. The camera slowly panned up and there was the colorful, glimmering robes revealed before the full shot of Jamie Dean, sporting the crown of the Statue of Liberty, posing while holding a sparkler into the air with one hand while holding against his upper body a copy of “Red, White and Royal Blue” with the other.
“Before we get really into the heart of the matter, which in this case is the match I have for myself in a matter of days against the reigning World Heavyweight Champion, Finn Whelan, I’d like to take this moment to give a shout out to a close, personal friend of mine. Namely Teddy Warren.”
Jamie paused just long enough so that he could gaze down into the camera and tilt his head with just the barest trace of condescending `tude.
“Hi Teddy. I know that looking on from the sidelines has really got to be sticking in your gob, as my buddy Ben Jordan might say. Especially after all of those things you said about me being – what was it again? Baggage? Someone who rides the coattails of someone else? Someone who wouldn’t or couldn’t possibly walk away the winner of that Fresh Faces Battle Royal from a couple weeks back?”
Jamie looked off camera and upwards, adjusting the shades over his eyes. He puckered his lips and nodded.
“Interesting. Judging by everything that you said in that promo in reference to yours truly, one would think you were engaging in a self fulfilling prophecy. Oh… wait…”
He held up both hands mockingly.
“I probably just used too big of words for you to fully comprehend so allow me to dumb things down a little for you. What I meant to say was – you were speaking more about your own career up to this point in time than you were anyone else, and doing so without really realizing it. You talk about baggage but the only real baggage between us was the relative lack of impact that you had as an SCW Superstar. Okay, true you did hold two singles championships which is two more than myself, and you held them for a combined total of roughly… one hundred and thirty nine days. Now… My first tag team title reign with Ben was longer than both of your singles runs put together. And we won’t even add on our second reign because that would just be so very embarrassing for you. Now granted…”
Jamie held up his hands.
“There are differences between singles runs and tag team, but let’s face facts; the most memorable thing about your singles run in SCW was your loss to J2H. I mean, talk about riding someone’s coattails! You actively compared yourself to J2H in order to draw him out of retirement so you could have the biggest match of your career and let’s face facts! You choked. Shocker! Well here's something else for you to chew on, Teddy ol’ girl. I would rather have those tag team title reigns on my record alongside my closest friend, then be some sad pretender wallowing in self-pity, without a real friend in the world while pretending to be something that I'm not. Like you.”
Jamie put on his best pouty face.
“And now here you are… in the King For A Day match in what has to be SCW’s most glaringly obvious attempt at a pity fuck. I mean, you got nowhere in the Blast From the Past. You hyped yourself up for the Battle Royal and then fell flat on your face. Your previous runs have proven that you’re about as reliable as a cheesecloth condom.”
He shrugged dramatically and then proceeded to walk along the aircraft carrier.
“But this isn’t about you in any way, shape or form Teddy - as hard as that might be for you to believe. This is about something, or rather, someone, who is more important than you. Again - as hard as that might be for you to believe. This is about the man that right now is standing at the top of the mountain. The man that everyone on the Superstar roster wants to face and ultimately dethrone, and the guy that I admit I never really expected to be facing at this point in my life.”
Jamie arrived at an artists’ easel and with dramatic flare, he turned up the first page and there was an artist rendering of – Beetlejuice. Jamie did a comedic double take and shook his head before tearing it off and there was a poster of the reigning World Champion, Finn Whelan himself.
“Now, we’re getting to the real heart of the matter. Finn Whelan, not only the World Heavyweight Champion but also one-half of the World Tag Team Champions. Which makes him a history maker because he is the first man or woman in SCW to ever win - and retain - two separate championships. But as impressive as that accomplishment is Finn, there’s also a downside. Not one but both championships suffer because if you devote yourself to any one, the other is neglected. And while I’d love to point out how the Mixed Tag titles haven’t exactly been a top priority as of later as much as they should, this isn’t about the championships that you share with your non-romantic life partner Kayla. This is about that ‘other’ title you carry over your shoulder because if you tried wearing it around your non-existent waistline, it’d slide all the way down and resemble ankle socks more than an actual belt.”
“The World Heavyweight title has been the most sought after and prestigious of championships for us fellas since its inception almost thirteen years ago when Gabriel beat JT Underwood for the gold. And since then, the title has had a spotless record - spotless! You can count on one hand the number of times there had been a break in the succession where one man or another had to vacate the championship and every man whose held the gold? Absolutely respected the world over. Well…”
Jamie paused and looked in thoughtful contemplation.
“Maybe not so much where Jeremiah Hardin is concerned but that would require story time and breaking of the fourth wall and we just don’t do that here.”
Jamie frowned and then looked into the camera.
“Did that count as ‘breaking the fourth wall’?”
He paused, closed his eyes and shook his head before resuming his promo.
“Now, I have to hand it to you Finn because you weren’t handed the title on a gold platter. You didn’t win a Battle Royal to claim it - and let’s be honest; throwing people out of the ring doesn’t really show you who’s the most deserving of holding a World Championship. No, You good sir, won the title by outlasting seven other men hand picked by J2H himself. Seven! En route, you beat lofty names like Helluva Bottom Carter in the opening round, then Internet Champion Peter Vaughn in the Semi-Finals and the real power play! You bested freaking Goth of all people in the finals to win the whole thing! I mean, Goth! A living legend! Multi-time champion and inductee into every Hall of Fame in every promotion that he’s been a part of! And you beat him! Not an easy accomplishment, I grant you. But let’s put things into perspective. You won the title just over four months ago, yeah? So here’s my question… How many times have you actually defended it since then, not through no fault of your own but because you had to split your time and attention between it and the Tag Team gold?”
He held up a single finger.
“Once. Against Goth at Blaze of Glory XII in a rematch from the tournament final. A single championship defense in four months, not counting this one. All the other times you were inside the ring? It was either bogged down with non-title matches or you were teaming with Kayla to help add some prestige to the tag titles but at the expense of your OTHER championship. And while I can appreciate you wanting to catapult the one, it shouldn’t come at the expense of the other. At least in my own humble opinion. And as for those non-title matches…?”
Jamie held out his hands while wearing his best “WTF” expression.
“Why do bookers even bother holding non-title matches if not to say that one wrestler or another just isn’t worth the effort of a title opportunity? In my own opinion? If a champion is competing, then his or her title should be on the line. No ifs, ands or cute butts! Bottom end, er, line!”
“And this isn’t even your first time at the rodeo, is it? This is the second time that you’ve held the championship, the first time you won the title from Ken Davison in `22 before dropping it back to the former champion less than two months later. And do you know what the scary thing is? That first reign of yours? You accomplished more in that one rain, then you have in this one. And before you accuse me of beating a dead horse over your number of defenses, that's not actually what I'm talking about.”
*I'm talking about literal impact. The only real noise that you made since you first beat Goth? Was when you decided to post on social media and wine publicly about how your Challenger was being decided for Into the Void XIII. Well tell me something champ! If they hadn't that battle royal, what was your suggestions have been? How would you have determined who should have been granted the number one contender spot? Would you have just hand-picked a Challenger? Or more likely would you have just given yourself the evening off since there was no credible contender to deal with?”
“Well! Here's a news flash for you Finn. You've got a credible contender now.”
Jamie tapped a forefinger into his own chest, indicating himself.
“And you're going to have to deal with me! This is going to be no night off or walk in the park. I know you're already looking past me because of several factors. My team didn't advance in the first round of Blast From the Past. I got this opportunity out of the blue in a Battle Royal against five other guys you obviously hold contempt for. Or the simple fact that the only championships I've held in SCW were Tag Team Championships. Take your pick! But overlooking me is going to cost yo0u more in the end – pun not intended – than just your precious World Heavyweight title. It’s going to cost you something that’s even more valuable, and harder to get back. It’s going to cost you your damn ego. Because as enigmatic and as mysterious as you like to portray yourself at being, in the end you are just a man. And every man tends to choke when they’re served an extra large portion of humble pie.”
“And given that’s the only pie you’re going to be enjoying any time soon, I’d savor it, Finn. Because in the end you’re going to be one championship short, and despite any denial that you may have, you’ll have nobody to blame but yourself.”
Jamie then saluted the camera and for added measure, gave it a courtly bow before turning and walking off scene with a dramatic flourish, ending the scene.
