Turnberry Towers - Las Vegas, NevadaThe Turnberry Towers, the luxury, high rise condominiums near the Las Vegas Strip, was the central focal point for Carter Kasey-McKinney and his husband Miles, two-time SCW Couple of the Year and currently, the reigning World Heavyweight and Internet Champions respectively.
The famed “City of Sin” was a literal oasis amidst a desert paradise. Nothing and no one ever rested. Especially the closer one got to the Vegas Strip. Even the famed casinos had no clocks within, keeping the gamblers ignorant to the amount of time passing so they would continue throwing money away. Inside the polished marble corridors of the luxury condominium complex, the noise of the Strip faded to a soft hum.
Carter followed a few paces behind Miles, who was walking briskly toward their front door, keys twirling around his index finger.
“Remind me again,” Carter called after him, his tone edging between irritation and nervous humor. “Why can’t I pick up Kevin from school? Or at least tag along?”
Miles stopped halfway through opening the door and turned around with that knowing, lopsided smile that made Carter’s knees weak no matter how long they’d been married. “Because,” He said in a calm voice. “You’re putting it off.”
Carter blinked. “Putting what off?”
Miles tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “You know exactly what.” He waved his hand. “We talked this morning and agreed. It’s time to tell the families about Kevin. And you still haven’t made the first move to call your mum and Grams.”
“Oh yeah?” Carter folded his arms. “Have you called your Mom?”
Miles cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his head, “That’s irrelevant.”
“No, you’re right.” Carter nodded. “It is irrelevant. Or it might be, at least. She probably knows by now anyway thanks to Brianna.”
“Brianna?” Miles frowned. “How would she find out from Bri? How would Bri even know?” He emphasized.
“Seriously?” Carter raised a single brow. “Miles, we’ve talked about Kevin on X plenty these past couple of weeks. Brianna is on X. If she’s seen those tweets…”
Miles stood upright, sucking in air through his teeth as the dawning realization struck him. Carter just nodded, “Yeah, see? So if I were you, I’d let me go pick up Kevin while you do some damage control.”
Miles looked to Carter and reached a comforting hand toward his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, one more so out of affection. “I guess we’ve both been putting it off. But it’s gone on long enough, don’t you think? They should’ve known weeks ago.”
Carter sighed. “We just wanted to make sure Kevin was comfortable first. That he felt safe, before we made it official with everyone.”
“And we did,” Miles said, stepping closer. “We’ve done everything right by him so far.”
Carter looked up, caught by the warmth in his husband’s gaze. Miles had a way of grounding him, whether he wanted to be or not. Miles leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Carter’s lips. “Call your mom,” he murmured, “I’ll go get our boy from school.”
Carter’s lips curved despite himself. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Miles grinned. “Immensely.” He turned, opened the door, and closed it behind him before Carter realized Miles just left without the topic of telling his family being properly addressed. Carter threw his head back and sighed audibly. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned back toward the open living space. Afternoon light spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and he took a slow look around.
There was the extra pair of sneakers by the door muddy from recent rain and worn down from P.E. classes. A backpack leaned against the couch. A folded blanket featuring the emblem of KPop Demon Hunters draped messily over one armrest. A half-finished jigsaw puzzle sat on the coffee table beside a stack of sketchpads and pencils. Carter had no idea Kevin had such an interest in art and sketching but he and Miles were actively encouraging it every chance they got.
None of this had been there six weeks ago. Not before Kevin. Before their lives changed in ways neither of them had fully expected but wouldn’t trade for anything.
Carter’s gaze lingered on the small signs of another person’s existence in their home, and how natural they already felt. The extra sugary cereal boxes in the pantry. The 16 year old’s favorite late night snacks of Spicy Dill Doritos or microwave burritos. The quiet laughter that now filled their evenings. Miles and himself struggling with helping with Core Math homework or helping to proofread some homework assignments. Things he never expected to be happening and yet nothing he would look back on with any semblance of regret.
Carter crossed into the kitchen, bare feet padding softly on the cool tile. He opened the fridge and immediately spotted the Dr. Pepper, 12-pack, front and center. Neither he nor Miles had been big soda drinkers. Fruit-infused water had always been Carter’s go-to and he turned Miles onto it as well. But a sixteen-year-old boy who’d spent too much of his life without simple comforts? He’d get his Dr. Pepper. It was one of those small, unspoken compromises that said everything about how much they cared.
He reached for the glass pitcher on the top shelf, its contents shimmering with thin slices of lemon, strawberries, and mint leaves. Pouring himself a glass, he paused and took a slow sip, eyes closed. He then moved toward the sleek walnut desk nestled by the window of the threshold. His laptop waited there, slim and silver, resting in the light. He sat down, turned it on, and a few clicks later, he opened the video call app.
He hesitated only for a heartbeat before selecting his mother’s name, Joanna McKinney.
After a few rings, the screen flickered, then appeared the bright, familiar face of a woman with long, chestnut hair and eyes that mirrored his own.
“Carter!” Joanna beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you. You look wonderful. How are you?”
“Hey, Mom,” Carter said, his heart instantly softening like it always did when he was talking to his Mom. “I’m good. How are you? How’s Grams?”
“She’s fine,” Joanna said with a fond roll of her eyes. “You know your grandmother. Still running the Ladies Auxiliary like it’s a military campaign. Especially now that they’re starting their annual bake sale for charity. How’s Miles? As handsome as ever?”
Carter smiled. “And getting more so every day.”
“Just what I like to hear.” Joanna smiled, resting her chin on her curled fingers. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
Carter exhaled slowly, trying to steady the little tremor of nerves he felt in the pit of his belly. “I need to talk to both you and Grams, actually. Is she around?”
Joanna glanced off-screen. “You just missed her. She had one of her Auxiliary meetings this afternoon. What’s going on, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Carter reassured her quickly. “It’s just… There's something important I wanted to tell you. Something we probably should’ve shared a while ago.”
Her brows lifted. “Alright, now you’re worrying me.”
“No, no.” Carter shook his head, stressing the point. “It’s nothing bad. It’s good … news. I mean, Miles and I think it is. It’s just … Do you remember Kevin? We told you and Grams about him? The one Miles had been watching over the past few months?”
Joanna nodded slowly. “Yes, a little bit. You didn’t divulge too much because he was going through a lot, the poor thing. You said he’d been through hell with his family, right? And that he was homeless for a bit?”
Carter nodded. “That’s right.”
Joanna’s expression softened, her heart already breaking for the boy she had never even met. “Is he doing any better?”
Carter hesitated, choosing his words. “He was hospitalized for a while after everything he’d been through. Malnutrition, exhaustion. But he’s doing better now. A lot better.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Joanna said, relief washing over her face. “And he’s in the system now, right? Foster care?”
“Not exactly.” Carter swallowed hard. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
Joanna tilted her head. “Carter…”
“While he was in the hospital,” Carter continued. “Miles and I talked … a lot. We couldn’t stand the thought of him going back into the system. I mean, teenagers almost never get adopted before they age out. He didn’t have anyone left, no real family to speak of. His mom is in prison. His father was still around but is as useless as a condom in a convent. So Miles and I…” He exhaled, the words finally coming out. “We petitioned the court. And after a few weeks of hearings, paperwork, and approvals… We were granted legal guardianship.”
Joanna blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We’re his legal guardians, Mom,” Carter said, the faintest tremor in his voice. “We have custody. He’s been living with us.”
The silence that followed was long and deep, but not uncomfortable. Just full of understanding. And for a long moment, silence hung between them.
Then Joanna’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, Carter…”
Carter smiled through the weight of emotion in his chest. “He’s living with us now. Officially. Right now it’s guardianship, but…” He hesitated, glancing aside with a small, hopeful smile. “The topic of adoption has come up if Kevin feels right about it.”
Joanna’s face broke into the kind of smile that made her look ten years younger. “Oh, honey! I am so proud of you! Of both of you! That boy couldn’t have asked for better people to take him in!”
“Thanks, Mom,” Carter said, his own eyes glistening. “We just couldn’t let him slip through the cracks. Not after everything he’s been through already.”
“Your Grams is going to flip when she hears.” Joanna said warmly. “When do we get to meet him?”
Carter chuckled. “Soon. I was thinking maybe Thanksgiving at the house in Olympia? I was thinking of gathering everyone there for Christmas this year too.”
“That sounds perfect.” Joanna gushed.
They talked for a while longer about little things, like how Kevin was doing in school, about how Miles had turned the spare room into a proper bedroom. Joanna asked about his appetite, his sleep, his interests. She sounded more like a grandmother already than Carter dared admit. He’d dreaded this conversation, but hearing the happiness in her voice made him realize how unfounded those fears had been.
He was just about to say something when he heard the soft click of the front door opening behind him. The sound of sneakers, the faint hum of laughter, and Miles’ familiar baritone English accent filled the air.
“Speak of the devil!” He murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. He then raised his voice. “Hey, Kev! Come here a sec! I’ve got someone who wants to meet you!”
There was a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. Miles appeared first, smiling knowingly in amusement. Behind him, Kevin hovered uncertainly, his schoolbag slung over one shoulder, his bomber jacket slightly oversized on his skinny frame. His dark curls fell across his forehead, and though he tried to look nonchalant, he was obviously curious and maybe even a tad wary. He stepped closer, setting his bag down gently on the floor. When he finally looked at the screen, Joanna McKinney’s warm, kind face filled it.
“Kevin,” Carter said with a smile. “This is my mom. Joanna McKinney.”
Joanna leaned forward, smiling wide. “Well, hello there, Kevin! It’s so nice to finally meet you! This brat of mine has told me so much about you!”
Kevin shifted awkwardly but smiled back, his voice soft. “Hi, ma’am.”
“Oh, none of that ‘ma’am’ business!” Joanna said, waving her hand. “You can call me Joanna. Or Mrs. McKinney if you prefer. Either’s fine.”
Kevin nodded shyly, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. Miles had come to stand behind him, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Carter took a sip of his fruit water, hiding his grin behind the rim of the glass. Then, with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye, he set it down and said, “Hey, Mom? Remember how you always said you hoped I’d make you a grandma one day?”
Joanna blinked. “Yes, of course.”
Carter held his hands out toward Kevin, grinning wide. “Well, it’s a boy!”
For a split second, the room went still. Then Miles burst out laughing. Kevin blinked in surprise, then broke into a shy, disbelieving smile. Joanna laughed. “I’ll take it!”
Carter then stood up, gesturing for Kevin to sit. “Alright, you’re up, kiddo. Chat with Grandma for a bit.”
Kevin blinked. “Wait, really?”
“Yep,” Carter said, still grinning. “I’m officially off duty.”
Kevin hesitated, then slid into the chair. Joanna began asking him gentle questions such as his favorite subjects in school and what games he liked. Kevin relaxed slowly, answering in short sentences that grew longer as the minutes passed.
Miles wandered over to stand beside Carter, slipping an arm around his waist. “See? Not so hard, was it?”
Carter leaned into him, smiling. “You were right.”
“I usually am.”
“Don’t push it.”
“You know, there’s this old saying. ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’ And I never really understood what that meant until I found myself in this business. Because professional wrestling? It’s not just competition. It’s not just about athleticism or talent or drive. It’s about perception. It’s about ego. It’s about the kind of world where you can hold out a hand to help somebody up, and before you know it? That same hand you used to lift them becomes the one they bite!”
“And the worst part? You can’t even be mad because you knew what this world was when you stepped into it. You know this world doesn’t reward kindness. It exploits it. It mocks it for being soft. And yet, here I am! A visual aide behind the saying.”
“For months, I’ve stood here and said that Alex Jones should have been given a World Heavyweight Championship match. I’ve said it publicly, I’ve said it privately, and I’ve said it without hesitation. Because to me, that’s not just a matter of respect. It’s a matter of logic. And why? How about the fact that the man is a former SCW World Heavyweight Champion. That alone should have put him right back into the picture the moment he lost the title. That’s how this works. It’s how it’s always worked. When a champion falls, they don’t just disappear. They stay relevant!”
“And if that wasn’t enough, not even a month after I won this championship, Alex Jones pinned me in the middle of the ring. One, two, three. Non-title match, yes. But still, he beat me. Now, call me crazy, but if the former champion beats the current champion, shouldn’t that make him a top contender? No, shouldn’t that make him THE top contender? Shouldn’t that have been enough to punch his ticket to the front of the line? Because if that doesn’t qualify you for a championship shot, then for God’s sake, what does!?”
“But that’s where we’re at right now, isn’t it Alex? I’m not like a lot of the so-called ‘champions’ that have come through this company who think holding this title means they suddenly get to play matchmaker. The ones who think the belt gives them the right to handpick their opponents. The sort of men - and women - who try to use that as a means of hand selecting easy pickings to extend their title reign beyond what it might normally be! That’s not me.”
“I know my place. I know my job. I represent this company as its champion. But I don’t run this company. I don’t make the rules. I don’t sign the matches. That’s not how a real champion operates. When you’re a champion, you don’t duck. You don’t hide. You don’t play politics. You defend that belt against whoever they put in front of you. And that is exactly what I’ve done.”
“They said ‘Carter, you’re facing Aiden Reynolds.’ I said, ‘Okay.’
They said, ‘Carter, you’re up against Eddie Lyons.’ I said, ‘Bring it on!’
They said, ‘Carter, you’re defending against the Hall of Famer, J2H.’ I said, ‘Hell yes!’”
“And through it all, through every successful defense, through every headline, through every single moment they said I wasn’t ready for and proved the critics wrong, I still kept saying the same thing: Alex Jones deserves a shot!”
“I said it when I first won this title. I said it when I stood in this ring as the defending champion. And if it were up to me, Alex Jones would’ve been my challenger at High Stakes, the biggest event of the year! Because if I’m going to write a legacy as SCW World Heavyweight Champion, then I want that story written against the best! And for all his flaws, Alex Jones is one of the best.”
“But I’m not in charge. Gwendolyn Hall is. Christian Underwood is.”
“Now, let me make something clear. I’m not questioning Gwendolyn’s decisions. But I did reach out to her. I told her, ‘Hey! Alex Jones deserves this. He’s earned it. If there’s an open slot for a championship match before High Stakes, he should have it. And that’s how we got here. That’s how Alex Jones finally got the opportunity that should’ve been his months ago. And like I said earlier? No good deed goes unpunished.”
“Because instead of gratitude, instead of respect, instead of even the smallest acknowledgement that maybe, just maybe, someone stuck their neck out for him, what do I get? I get a man who has made it his mission to disrespect me. To diminish me. To publicly trash me in front of the world!”
“And for what? Because I did the right thing?”
“I’m not even gonna waste much time talking about Alexander Raven. Wrestling’s version of a toddler who throws himself on the floor every time Mommy says no. This isn’t about him. This isn’t about the endless tantrums and the self-pitying monologues.”
“This is about Alex Jones. And Alex? I hope you’re listening closely. Because for all you know, if I hadn’t gone to Gwendolyn, if I hadn’t opened my mouth on your behalf, this title shot on Sunday might not ever have taken place. You might still be sitting in the back in catering, watching from the sidelines and wondering why your name never made the list. And maybe there’s a reason for that!”
“Maybe Gwendolyn and Christian have looked at that list of contenders every month and said, ‘Eh, not him. And maybe you should be asking yourself why.”
“Because the truth is, maybe they didn’t see you as the kind of name that moves the needle anymore. Maybe, when they thought about putting your name on the marquee, they realized it wouldn’t sell the way it used to. Maybe they wanted a challenger who could draw. Maybe they wanted someone who still had the relevance and the connection with the fans. And maybe, just maybe, they thought Alex Jones just didn’t fit that description anymore.”
“But me? I didn’t see it that way. I saw the former champion. I saw a man who beat me clean in the middle of the ring. I saw someone who could give me the kind of match that tests a champion. And that’s why I went to bat for you! That’s why I vouched for you!”
“Because as much as I love holding this championship, I don’t want anything related to it to be easy. I want to earn it! Every day, every defense.”
“So when you ran me down, when you mocked me, belittled me, tried to tear me apart in front of the world? All I could think was… wow. This is how you repay someone who went to bat for you! This is how you show appreciation! You spit in the hand that tried to pull you up!”
“You keep saying I don’t deserve to be champion. You keep saying I’m lucky or I’m not fit to be the champion. You tell the world that I don’t have the pedigree. That I haven’t paid my dues the way you have. That I don’t carry the same prestige or history or legacy that you think this title deserves. And maybe, in your mind, that’s true. Maybe you think I’m some kind of placeholder. Maybe you think I’m just keeping this belt warm for you until the universe realigns and the ‘real’ king gets his crown back! But let me tell you something, Alex! I didn’t get here by accident! Luck doesn’t survive this long! And luck sure as hell doesn’t defeat the likes of Aiden Reynolds, Eddie Lyons and ESPECIALLY J2H! Can you say that you’ve ever beaten J2H in the middle of the ring? No? Well okay then!”
“Luck doesn’t make it through every challenge this company can throw at you and still be standing here as champion months later! Luck might get you one win. It doesn’t get you a reign!”
“You talk about what I haven’t done. What I haven’t proven. What I haven’t earned. But tell me, Alex! When’s the last time you earned anything without bitching about it first!? When’s the last time you didn’t walk around this place acting like you were owed something just because your name used to mean something?”
“That’s the thing about legacy, Alex. It’s fragile. It’s fleeting. And if you don’t feed it, it dies. You had your runs. You had your moments. You were the man once. And I’m not taking that away from you. Hell! I celebrate it! But what you need to understand is that the world keeps moving. The business evolves. The spotlight doesn’t stay in one place forever. And when it moved off you and onto me, you couldn’t handle it!”
“You couldn’t stand to see someone else carrying the weight you used to hold. And I get that. I get that it burns to see me walking out with your title. I get that it eats at you to hear the crowd chanting my name, to see the posters with my face on them, to hear the commentators calling me the World Heavyweight Champion!”
“But here’s the truth you don’t want to face! None of that was stolen from you! You lost it. You lost it in the ring. You lost it because somebody was better that night. You lost it because the game changed and you didn’t! And now, when someone like me tries to treat you with respect? You take it as an insult. Because deep down, you don’t want respect. You want validation. You want the world to tell you that you’re still the man you were ten years ago. But that’s not my job, Alex.”
“My job is to remind you that times change. Champions evolve. And whether you like it or not, I’m the one carrying this company now! I didn’t win this title because I wanted fame. I didn’t win it to prove a point. I won it because I love this business! Because every time I step into that ring, I leave a piece of myself behind. Every scar, every bruise, every match that pushes me to the edge? That’s not luck. That’s not politics. That’s sacrifice!”
“And while you’ve been busy complaining about who deserves what, I’ve been out there doing all the work. While you’ve been rehashing your glory days, I’ve been building mine. And that right there is the real difference between us, Alex. You look backward whereas I look forward.”
“You see this championship as something that belongs to you because of what you were. I see it as something I have to earn every single day because of who I am! And who I am is the World Heavyweight Champion! That means something to me. It means more than just a paycheck, more than just headlines or merchandise sales. It means I am the face of this company! It means I am the standard every other wrestler is measured against!”
“And if that burns you up inside, if that keeps you awake at night? Good! Because it should! It should make you hungry again! It should make you remember what it feels like to fight for something instead of expecting it to be handed back to you like the Captain of the High School Cheerleading Team!”
“But don’t make the mistake of thinking that hunger alone is going to be enough to beat me! Because I’m not the same guy you pinned months ago. That match? That loss? It changed me. It woke me up! And now? Now you’re not stepping into the ring with the man you beat.”
“You’re stepping into the ring with the man who learned from it. So this Sunday Alex, when that bell rings? I want you to look across the ring and really see me. Not the so-called lucky champion or the guy you think doesn’t belong! See me for what I am! The man standing in the spotlight with you in my shadow! Because this time, there’s no non-title safety net! This time, when I have you on your back and the referee’s hand hits three? It’s closure. It’s proof that I wasn’t a fluke, and you weren’t robbed. It’s proof that this title is exactly where it belongs. But most importantly? It’s me being done with you.”
“And when it’s over, when you’re lying there staring up at the lights, realizing the torch has already been passed whether you wanted it or not? Maybe then you’ll finally understand what I’ve been trying to tell you all along! That respect isn’t given out of pity. It’s earned through humility. And humility is something you’ve forgotten.”
“But don’t you worry about that because this Sunday? I’ll remind you. Because no good deed goes unpunished. And this time, your punishment is me!”
