LJ's 23rd Birthday Bash
The energy in the penthouse was electric. The bass of the music pulsed through the floor, mixing with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses as the intimate group of friends and family gathered to celebrate LJ’s 23rd birthday.
Miles had gone all out, determined to make up for the birthdays he had missed with his younger brother. The suite was decked out with lights, balloons, and even a ridiculous oversized banner that read “Welcome to LJ’s Quarter-Life Crisis” in bold, glittery letters. Carter had groaned when he saw it, but Miles had just grinned, knowing it would get a reaction out of his brother.
Seated at the center of the chaos was the birthday boy himself, LJ, leaning into Alexandra Callaway’s touch as she draped an arm around his shoulder. If anyone noticed the way he kept stealing glances at her, or how his fingers would absentmindedly trace her wrist whenever she was close, no one mentioned it. Also no one cared.
And then, Kristjan “Fenris” Baltasarsson made his grand contribution to the evening: a few bottles of the infamous Snake Venom beer—boasting one of the highest alcohol percentages in the world. The moment he set them down with a smirk, LJ’s eyes lit up with intrigue, while Miles' immediately darkened with concern.
“Absolutely not,” Miles stated firmly, arms crossed over his chest. “This is the shit that I warned you about. He fed Lachlan Kane this stuff for his bachelor party and we had to hold him up for him to marry Sierra!”
K just laughed, he was the only one that remembered the night well, “Milo, man, I think we are all genuinely curious as to how the kid can handle his alcohol. He hasn’t done too bad so far.”
Miles just shook his head, “Mate, I cannot believe that you brought this. I thought you were out!”
“Arrived just in time yesterday.” K shrugged, “Whatta say LJ? Think you can handle it?”
LJ scoffed, already reaching for a bottle. “I’m twenty-three, not twelve. I can handle a little beer.”
Carter snorted, sipping his own drink. “That is not a little beer.”
Aron Baltasarsson, who had been quietly enjoying himself all evening, nudged his brother. “I mean… technically, it’s his birthday. If he wants to try it…”
Fenris grinned wickedly. “Exactly. Let the kid live a little.”
LJ popped the cap off the bottle, lifting it in a mock toast before taking a deep swig.
Silence.
For a moment, everything was fine. Then, suddenly, LJ’s eyes widened as he coughed and wheezed, slamming the bottle down as his entire body tensed.
“Holy—what the hell is that?!” LJ gasped, grabbing onto Ally’s arm for support. “That’s not beer, that’s gasoline!”
Ally chuckled softly, shaking her head. She could tell things were going to get interesting.
Kristjan burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as Aron smirked beside him. “What? Too strong for you?”
Miles sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “This is why I didn’t want you to try it.”
But LJ, ever determined, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stubbornly reached for the bottle again. “Nah, I’m fine—I got this.”
The second sip didn’t go much better. This time, his face twisted in pure agony as he nearly fell forward into Ally’s lap. Carter was full-on cackling now, while Miles was torn between exasperation and amusement.
“Oh my God,” Ally murmured, shaking her head as she patted LJ’s back. “Happy birthday, baby. Try not to die before midnight, okay?”
LJ lifted a shaky thumbs-up, still wheezing as Fenris gave him a proud nod. “Attaboy. Now finish the bottle.”
Miles groaned. “I hate you all.”
The night carried on in much the same fashion—filled with laughter, ridiculous dares, and an ever-so-slightly intoxicated LJ trying his best to keep up with Fenris, much to Miles’ horror. But amidst the chaos, there was something undeniably warm about it all.
For the first time in a long time, LJ wasn’t just surviving—he was living. And surrounded by people who cared about him, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
By the time the party wound down, LJ was absolutely trashed. The Snake Venom had done its job, and he was slumped against Ally on the couch, grinning like a fool. His normally sharp, playful wit had dissolved into an endless string of affectionate compliments and slurred declarations of love.
“Ally… Ally, you’re so pretty,” LJ murmured, pressing a sloppy kiss against her temple. “Like, I dunno if I ever told you, but… wow. You’re, like, the most gorgeous person… ever.”
Ally, tipsy herself, giggled as she tried to steady him. “Oh, babe, you are so drunk.” Even though her face was bright red. The rosy hue brought because of LJ’s words. Right now, the thoughts of their impending match were non-existent.
Miles, standing over them with his arms crossed, let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah, no shit. There’s no way either of you are going anywhere tonight.”
Carter snickered from the other side of the room. “You sure you don’t wanna just leave them here on the couch? I feel like it’d be a valuable lesson in drinking responsibly.”
“Not happening.” Miles shook his head, already moving to help LJ up. “Come on, little bro, let’s get you to the guest room before you start confessing your undying love to the lamp.”
“I LOVE THAT LAMP,” LJ declared dramatically, pointing at the decorative floor lamp in the corner.
Kristjan and Aron were doubled over laughing, while Ally just buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God.”
With some effort, Miles and Ally managed to get LJ into the guest room. He flopped down on the bed, dragging Ally down with him. “Stay,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re warm.”
Ally sighed, but smiled, curling up against him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not going anywhere.” She shook her head, curling up with him. “Too drunk.. Not irresponsible.”
Miles stood in the doorway, watching them for a moment before shaking his head in amusement. “Happy birthday, kid.”
Back to Business
The scene opens on an Abandoned Warehouse – dimly lit and unsettlingly quiet. The camera flickers as if the feed is unstable, the frame shaking slightly as it focuses on Alexandra sitting in a steel chair in the middle of the room. Her hair is damp, strands sticking to her face, eyes locked onto the camera with an unnatural intensity. The dim glow of a single, flickering light above casts shadows across her face. In the background, the sound of metal scraping against concrete echoes—it’s LJ, wrapping his hands with tape, his eyes cold and calculating. But this? This is Alexandra’s moment. Her war. Her confession.
"Have you ever felt it? That low hum beneath your skin? That whisper in the back of your head, telling you that everything is about to go up in flames? Oh, I feel it. I feel it crawling through my veins, wrapping around my ribs like barbed wire, tightening every second we get closer to that match. Victoria… Vincent… you have no idea what you’ve done. You took something from me. And now? Now I take everything from you."
She tilts her head, a slow smile creeping onto her face, but there’s nothing friendly about it. It’s the kind of smile that belongs to someone who enjoys the suffering that’s about to come.
"Victoria, you stood in my way. You slithered into my world, whispered your way into the title picture, and took MY Bombshell Roulette Championship. And I let it happen. I let it happen because, for one damn second, I thought this company, this industry, had some kind of order to it. I thought if I fought hard enough, if I clawed my way up, I’d get my shot the right way.”
She shook her head, she knew that her words run true.
“But that’s not how this works, is it? No. No, because you don’t play fair, Victoria. You don’t win wars—you steal victories. You don’t conquer—you manipulate. And now? Oh, sweetheart, now I don’t give a damn about fair. I don’t give a DAMN about rules. All I give a damn about is, destroying you."
She leans forward, gripping her knees, her breathing becoming sharper, erratic, before she suddenly stops—pausing like a predator waiting to strike.
"You made sure I didn’t get into the Elimination Chamber. You made sure I didn’t get my shot at the World Championship. You stacked the deck against me, made damn sure I stayed beneath you. The next time you saw me, I took a chance from you. You’d think we’d be square but no. Now? Now we’re walking into a fight where you CAN’T run. Where you CAN’T stack the odds in your favor.”
She bit her lip for a moment, her eyes focused on the camera before her. She knew that Victoria would learn. Win or lose, the lesson would be learned. Alexandra was far from done with her.
“You and your dear, sweet twin brother… against me and LJ. I wonder, Victoria… I wonder how much Vincent really understands about you. Does he know you’re nothing without that title? Does he know that the moment you lose it, the moment I rip it out of your grasp, you’ll be nothing but a whisper, a footnote, another name on my list of failures I’ve erased? Does he understand what’s coming? Or is he just another lamb to the slaughter?"
She exhales sharply, shaking her head with a soft chuckle, one that carries no amusement.
"Vincent. Listen to me. I need you to hear me, I need you to understand exactly what you’ve been dragged into. Because this? This is NOT just another match. This isn’t just another night in the ring. This is your SISTER’S reckoning. And you? You’re just collateral damage."
She was going to try to reason with the one of them who actually seemed like he would be the one with the most common sense between them.
"LJ and I? We are NOT like you. We are NOT like Victoria. We do not play the waiting game. We do not sit back and let others write our history. We carve it into the flesh of those who stand against us. We take what we want. We leave nothing but destruction in our wake. And Victoria? Vincent? I want you both to close your eyes and imagine it now.”
She started to paint the picture in her mind, sharing with those who would hear this. Specifically she was focused on destroying everything Victoria truly cared about.
“Imagine what happens when that bell rings. LJ is going to tear Vincent apart, piece by piece, muscle by muscle, until there is nothing left but regret. And me? Oh, Victoria, I am going to make you feel every bit of agony that you inflicted on me. Every ounce of pain, every stolen opportunity, every breath you took thinking you were above me—I am going to take it all back with interest."
Her breathing is slow, controlled, but her eyes tell another story. There is madness behind them. Pure, unfiltered, unchecked madness.
"Have you ever been hunted, Victoria? Ever felt that moment where you realize that no matter where you run, no matter how fast you are, something is always two steps behind you? You’re about to. Because when I step into that ring, I am not coming to wrestle. I am not coming to entertain. I am coming to watch the light fade from your eyes as you realize that you… are… nothing without that title.”
She shrugged, her body controlled in its movements. Her hands clenched into fists, there’s a coldness to her, like something is bubbling just below the surface.
“And what happens when I beat you in this match? What happens when I pin your shoulders to the mat, when I make you tap out, when I force you to stare up at those lights, wondering how the hell I could have done this to you? What happens when you see the truth? That you were NEVER better than me. That your little championship reign? It was just a borrowed moment. I was always coming back for what was mine. And now? Now the time has come, to dethrone the Queen.. To Slay her.”
Alexandra suddenly stands, knocking the steel chair backward as it clatters against the concrete floor. She steps toward the camera, gripping the edges as if she’s speaking directly to Victoria’s soul.
"You want to continue to be at the top of the mountain? You want to pretend you’re untouchable? THEN SHOW ME. Because when that bell rings, I am not just fighting to win. I am fighting to break you. To ruin you. To make sure that when Blaze of Glory comes, you won’t even have the strength to hold that title, let alone defend it. You took my gold. You took my shot at the World Championship. And now, I take something from you. I take your pride. I take your confidence. I take your damn sanity.”
She shrugged, not that Victoria had much sanity left. Was Alexandra ready to do what must be done to get the job done?
“And Vincent? I suggest you get real comfortable living in your sister’s shadow. Because after this match, after I pin Victoria in the middle of that ring, she’s going to need someone to remind her that she was ever anything more than a failure."
She laughs—a slow, eerie chuckle that grows into something unsettling, something bordering on unhinged.
"Oh, Victoria… you shouldn’t have taken from me. You should have left well enough alone. Now? Now you’ve got a problem you can’t solve. And the only way this ends… is when I say it does."
LJ finally speaks from the shadows, stepping slowing. Sunglasses covering his eyes even in the dark but his voice still carries a heavy weight.
"The dust has settled from the wild night that was my birthday, but there’s no time to dwell on celebrations. Besides, I'm still hung over and in pain but we need to focus. The stakes are high, and Climax Control is right around the corner.
I've been through hell lately, we BOTH have been through absolute hell—mentally, physically, and emotionally. Logan Hunter has tried to break me, but the problem is... I'm still standing. And now? Now, well...Vincent the bad part of this is, I'm done playing games.”
LJ takes a deep breath, slowly removing his glasses and looking down at his hands. Alexandra nodded in agreement with his words.
“This Sunday, teaming up with Ally to take on the Lyons Twins. Victoria Lyons, the so-called ‘Queen,’ has had her fair share of battles with Ally, and that’s fine. They can claw at each other all they want. But me? I need to focus on and get my sights locked on Vincent Lyons Jr.
Vincent, the newcomer, the fresh face, the latest in the Lyons dynasty to walk through the doors of SCW. And for some reason, people expect me to be impressed. To care about who Vincent is and where he came from.”
LJ looks up with those blue eyes shining bright.
“Spoiler alert: I don’t.
I'm not about to be one to welcome you into SCW, to welcome rookies with open arms. Because the last time we welcomed in a newbie, I have had someone who cannot shut up and her bitch of a boyfriend being an absolute pain in my ass. I'm not here to play gatekeeper or extend an olive branch. No, I'm here to carve my own path, to take what’s mine, whatever that may be in SCW, and to make damn sure that everyone who steps into that ring with him learns exactly what he’s about.
Vincent? He’s stepping into my world. And that means pain.”
LJ looks at Ally and she nods as he steps forward and continues to speak.
“I have no personal issues with Vincent, no vendetta. But the moment that bell rings, none of that matters. The only thing that matters is proving a point. That after everything, after every war, after every battle, I am still here and more dangerous than ever.
Vincent might think he’s ready. He might think that his last name means something. But considering who I am, it should be obvious that I don’t give a damn about names. All I cares about is results. And the result at Climax Control? Vincent Lyons Jr. is going to get a harsh, painful welcome to SCW.
We are walking in as a team. And while Ally’s focused on settling the score with Victoria, I'm making one thing crystal clear—
Vincent Lyons Jr. is stepping into the lion’s den.
And he’s not making it out unscathed."
Alexandra grins one last time, eyes wide, breathing unsteady, before leaning into the camera and whispering:
"Welcome to your reckoning, Victoria. See you soon."
The screen cuts to black with a sharp static hiss.
