Las Vegas, Nevada
Las Vegas High
The weather over Las Vegas had been picture-perfect with clear blue skies stretching across the skyline of the famed “City of Sin” without a cloud in sight. The sun was shining warm but gentle enough as temperatures settled comfortably in the mid-70s since early this morning and did not raise a single degree above 80. It had been the kind of day that felt bright and open as autumn slowly settled in.
Carter pulled the lime green Volkswagen Beetle into the long line of vehicles outside Las Vegas High just as the dismissal bell rang through the campus. To say his car stood out among the literal menagerie of newer and more colorful vehicles driven by the other parents, grandparents, and guardians, all who were waiting (in)patiently for their high schoolers would be a gross understatement. All the better for Kevin to spot Carter's ‘little bug’ from a mile away.
Carter drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, sunglasses on, elbow casually hooked out the open driver-side window like he was posing for an autumn holiday ad campaign. In fact, he caught a prototypical soccer mom staring at him from the relative anonymity of her SUV. You know the type. Bleached blonde hair with that ‘duck tail’ style over her eyes. Too much spray tan and sunglasses two sizes too big.
When he caught her looking, she actually had the audacity to sneer at him. As if to say ‘ How dare you look at me when I'm looking at you ‘. So Carter, being the kind and mature individual that he is, responded in kind. By puckering his lips and blowing her a kiss, resulting in her hurriedly averting her gaze.
Mission accomplished.
Carter then turned back to watch as kids spilled out of the front entrance, the chatter of weekend plans and bemoaning homework assignments bouncing between them. The yellow school buses idled further down, waiting for their charges. Carter idly remembered what it felt like riding those buses, especially when going home. It felt like such a sense of freedom. Carter spotted Kevin quickly enough, but what drew Carter’s eye was the kid walking beside him. A relatively big kid for his age. Husky, easily six feet tall with strawberry blonde hair, stood out without even trying. The two boys were talking quietly, their heads slightly leaned toward one another in a way that communicated familiarity. Not awkward. Not forced. Actually comfortable. Interesting. Carter could not help but smile, knowing that Kevin was well on his way to making friends at his new school, despite any worries toward the contrary.
Kevin looked up, laughing about something the boy had said to him, and the flash of lime green gave Carter away instantly. His expression flickered. Not displeased but certainly not the way it lit up for Miles, either. If he noticed, Carter buried the reaction down deep.
The boys exchanged a quick goodbye before Kevin cut away from him and started toward the car while the ‘mystery boy’ headed for one of the buses, ready to deliver him home. Carter watched him until the passenger seat opened and Kevin climbed in, slinging his backpack into the back seat.
“Hey.” Kevin greeted, always polite, but quiet enough as if he was a child who just got caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
Carter nodded toward the direction the big kid had walked. “Who’s that?” He asked.
Kevin’s hand stalled halfway through attempting to buckle his seatbelt. “Just a friend.”
It was a shy answer. One of deflection that every teenager crafted to perfection (or at least thought they did) to ward off interfering (nosey) adults. Carter caught it, but despite his genuine curiosity and a mad desire to tease, he did absolutely nothing to draw more information from out of the teen beside him than he was ready to give.
Kevin settled into the passenger seat, asking the obvious, “Miles didn’t come?”
“Nope.” Carter carefully pulled the Beetle out of the pick up line and merging into traffic without hesitation. “Sorry but you’re stuck with me.”
Kevin sank back into the seat, not irritated, just unsure of himself and his present situation. He glanced briefly at the dashboard, the familiar sight of the Stitch bobbing on his weighted mount. “Oh. Okay.”
Carter tried not to let Kevin’s reaction get to him, but truth be told it did bother him. Miles had bonded with Kevin over the months when he was rescued and recuperating in the hospital. And as much as Carter tried to be there for him, it seemed like the teenager kept him somewhat at arms length.
“Well,” Carter spoke as the Beetle wove about its way into traffic, paying careful heed now that he had a special passenger. A promise he made to Miles. “I hope you’re not in any kind of hurry to get home because I have to hit the Mall real quick. Miles is meeting us there for dinner.”
Kevin turned to him. “You didn’t tell me we were going out…”
“I know, sorry about that but…” Carter said easily. “Surprise?”
Kevin sank further into his seat, if that were at all possible. Carter then added, “Figured this gives us some time to talk.”
Kevin paused before asking “About what?”
“Let’s get there first.” Was all Carter said for the time being…
Fashion Show Mall
Twenty minutes later, the duo of Carter and Kevin were stepping inside Fashion Show Mall, an air-conditioned chill sweeping across everyone who passed inside from the streets of Vegas to the vast interior. The Friday crowd was already heavy, even in the early afternoon, with shopping bags, screaming children and teenagers roaming in clustered packs. Carter walked naturally, hands in pockets, comfortable navigating anywhere.
Kevin kept pace beside him, not quite shoulder to shoulder. Not as comfortable.
They passed a Coca-Cola branded kiosk, Carter paused long enough to buy a cold bottled Dr. Pepper and handed it directly to Kevin without even asking. An act that months ago would have been unheard of. Carter tried to eat well, he had his cheats and failures, but he had maintained the belief that soda was nothing more than liquid candy that rotted teeth. Then along came Kevin and his stance softened with the heart of a teenager who had gone without the simple things too often.
Kevin blinked at it before he unscrewed the cap and took a deep and appreciative drink. “Thanks.”
“Sit with me a sec,” Carter said, leading him toward a long bench near a palm installation. They sat together but Carter didn’t talk right away. Instead, Carter breathed slowly and quietly, people watching briefly rather than keep an eye on the teenager beside him.
Finally Carter spoke out of the blue, “Did I ever do something to make you uncomfortable?”
Kevin froze mid-sip.
He visibly collected himself before answering. “No. Why?”
“The little things,” Carter answered, lifting a hand, gesturing vaguely. “When Miles isn’t home, you usually go down to Missus Thompson’s. Or your room. You don’t hang out with me in the living room. You don’t ever say no, you’re not rude, but you… I guess evaporate is the word I’m looking for.”
Kevin said nothing and Carter continued. “When I pulled up just now.” Carter added lightly, “You kinda looked disappointed it wasn’t Miles.”
Kevin exhaled weakly through his nose. “That’s not…”
But Carter interrupted, being Carter. “And I really hope Miles hasn’t been poisoning my reputation by slandering my driving again.”
That resulted in a tiny laugh out of Kevin. “He said you flirt your way out of tickets.”
“Oh, that hypocrite!” Carter said instantly, with obvious theatrical disdain. “He wears gray sweatpants or those special shorts to get me to agree to whatever he wants. The man has no room to talk!”
Kevin almost choked on the Dr. Pepper.
Carter glanced at him, finally looking directly at him. “Did I do something to upset you? You can tell me. I promise I won't get upset.”
Kevin’s fingers tightened around the cold plastic bottle. His eyes stayed on the floor tiles but he didn’t answer. Not at first. In fact, Carter was fairly certain he wasn’t going to until he heard the hushed whisper, I don’t know how to act around you. After what my mom did.”
Carter went still. He stared ahead for a moment then lowered his head slightly. “Do you blame me?” He asked carefully. “For what happened to your family?”
Kevin’s heartbeat jumped but he answered fast. “No.” He paused, waited a brief time again before he continued, “I blame her. But the fact she tried to have you seriously hurt or…”
“Kevin.” Carter cut in immediately. “That was not you. That was your mom. You are not your mom.”
Kevin’s voice cracked, silently, but he didn’t look up.
“Hey.” Carter leaned in, gentler, locking eye contact this time because he needed it received. “You don’t ever have to worry about how I feel. Ever.”
Silence. Kevin’s grip had gone white-knuckled on the bottle. Kevin’s voice was barely audible as he whispered, “I thought maybe you hated me for it.”
“If I hated you…” Carter said simply. “You would not be living in our house. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have gone out of my way to spoil you rotten every five minutes. Which I take great pride in, thank you.”
That finally drew a genuine smile from the teenager.
Carter spoke, “Hey. Look at me a sec?”
Kevin did, hesitantly.
“I wanted to ask you something. And I wanted you to be one hundred percent honest with me. You wouldn’t get in trouble, and I wouldn’t get butt hurt.”
Kevin tensed, bracing.
Carter finally asked. “Did it upset you, or make you uncomfortable, when I called my mom ‘grandma’? Or when I told Bella and Malachi you were our son?”
Kevin instantly flinched. He stared at the fountain, then at some passing kids — anywhere but at Carter. His hands twisted and twisted in his sleeves. There was a long, silent beat heavy enough to feel in the chest. Kevin swallowed before he answered.
“It doesn’t upset me,” he finally whispered. “Not really. It just... I guess feels a little weird. That’s all. I’m not mad. It’s just still new.”
Carter exhaled, gently nodding. “That’s fair.” He said. “And I’m sorry. With Malachi it genuinely was just to bust his chops for being a little bitch. Then it just ... I guess it just got away from me. Because Miles and I did see you as family. That wasn’t a joke.”
Kevin’s eyes were low. But he nodded. Accepting but not yet knowing what to do with it. Carter went on, “You’ve just been through so much. I wanted you to have a family again. A real one. Not a temporary one. Not one waiting to see if you screw up. A permanent one.”
Kevin nodded again but this time with a barely audible sound. "I know." He said quietly. “I appreciate it.”
Carter looked away and let the quiet time pass between them. And then, “You know, you and I have a lot in common. Especially when it comes to family.”
That made Kevin look up at him.
Carter told his tale, “I had a pretty happy childhood. My parents were great. At least until I was about your age.”
Kevin blinked. “That’s like me?”
“I'm getting there,” Carter said gently. “It fell apart when my dad caught me making out with my best friend Randy Coppler in my bedroom.”
Kevin flinched with immediate understanding. He asked, “What happened?”
“Everything you’d expect.” Carter answered as the painful memories came flooding back. “Mom accepted me instantly. Dad very much didn’t. He tried to get me sent to conversion therapy and Mom forbid it. Their marriage didn't last much longer. They divorced. Dad vanished.”
Kevin asked, “Did you ever see him again?”
“Not for ten years.” Carter answered. “Not until it was too late.”
Kevin didn’t look away and Carter continued. “He came back. And I treated him like absolute garbage. And I thought I was right. Turns out it was his own family behind everything. Money. Threats. Pressure. They were going to cut him off. He needed that money to feed his wife and kid. So he failed me to save us.”
Kevin’s face wrenched, recognizing the parallels between them.
“I hated him.” Carter said quietly. “Then I found out he was dying. Kidney failure. And all I could think about was how I was going to lose my dad.”
The bright mall felt almost abandoned around them.
“We did reconnect. And I was going to donate a kidney, even though he refused to ask. But he died before I could.”
Carter let out a deep breath before turning to face Kevin directly, head on. “You have a family now with Miles and with me. No expiration date. You don’t ever have to worry about what happens if you mess up.”
Kevin wasn’t crying but his throat did constrict as if fighting to control himself. He whispered, “I don’t know how to believe that, but I want to.”
Carter nodded. “That’s enough." He said. Wanting to is enough. We’d handle the rest. Holidays might be awkward, though.”
Kevin blinked, “Why?”
“Because my Mom and Grams are absolutely going to want to spoil you rotten.” Carter leaned in and added, “And so will Miles’s Mom.”
Kevin just smiled.
Carter’s tone shifted again. “Listen. If I ever do anything I do makes you uncomfortable? You have to tell me. So I can fix it.”
Kevin started to say, “It’s just… you keep buying me all this stuff…”
“Except that.” Carter smiled. “I spoil. It’s what I do. And besides…” Carter finally stood up from the bench. “That’s actually why we’re here.”
“What?”
“Me and Miles think it’s time we got you a phone. And your own laptop.”
Kevin sucked in a quiet breath. “You don’t have to…” He started to protest.
“I know I don’t have to.” Carter said. “I want to. There’s a difference.”
Carter beckoned him with a wave. “Let’s move.”
Slowly, Kevin nodded and pushed himself back to his feet. He looked Carter in the eyes and his guardian asked, “Are we good?”
“We’re good.”
“Alright then.” Carter turned toward the inner corridor flow of shoppers. “Let’s go do some damage before Miles puts a stop to it!”
Kevin stayed beside him as they stepped forward together, vanishing into the masses of Mall shoppers.
THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE IS PAID FOR BY THE “JUSTICE FOR MILES AND LJ KASEY AND VICTORIA AND EDDIE LYONS” FOUNDATION. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED
“So! Vincent … Vinnie! Can I call you Vinnie? Let’s get something straight before your paranoid delusions try to rewrite reality again. This match, this Clash of the Champions? It wasn’t meant to be. It wasn’t booked. It wasn’t even necessary. You weren’t supposed to be standing across from me this weekend, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just had to shove your nose where it didn’t belong, sniffing around like a stray bitch desperate for attention! You stuck your nose into something between Alexander Raven and me, and now you’re running yourself into the ground, trying to justify yourself.”
“See, you could’ve stayed quiet. You could’ve stayed in your lane, polishing that Roulette Championship like it’s the only thing giving your life meaning. Because let’s be real, it probably is. But no. You had to make it about you. And the second you used that as a cue to open your mouth and start flapping your big mouth about my husband and my brother-in-law? That’s where the line got crossed, Vinnie. That’s the moment your little interference turned into an invitation for me to start taking things personally.”
“You didn’t just step into my story, you became the punchline. Because right there, when you started talking about my family, you didn’t step back. You didn’t think to yourself that maybe that’s crossing a line that ought not be crossed. You grinned. You became what the internet calls a ‘pick me girl.”=’ You know the type: Always desperate to prove they’re one of the ‘cool kids,’ always nodding along with the loudest jerk in the room hoping someone, literally anyone, will finally notice them!”
“So congratulations, Vinnie. You officially made the jump from ‘ credible champion’ to ‘high school cheerleader.’ And not even a good one. You’re like the knockoff-brand version, offering discount drama and zero self-awareness.”
“You’ve been walking around, running your mouth and acting like you’re the second coming of wrestling royalty! But all I see is a man who’s so far up his own ass he could probably see daylight out his throat! You want to talk about wins and losses? You want to talk about how you beat LJ? Cute. Real cute. You love to brag about that, huh? You talk about that match like it’s your magnum opus. Like you climbed a mountain. Like you slayed a dragon. But here’s what you’re conveniently forgetting, sugar! August 24th in Cypress. The night when LJ pinned your ass! One, two, three! And if that match had been for your precious little Roulette Championship? You wouldn’t be walking into this weekend with that belt around your waist. You’d be walking in with your tail between your legs and your ego deflated like a cheap dollar store balloon! Probably hanging out in catering and wondering what might have been! But you don’t mention that part, do you? No, you just cherry-pick your wins and bury your losses under selective memory and mental impaired delusion.”
“And this match between us? This isn’t new ground. This is the second time we’ve done this dance. You remember the first, don’t you? Well even if you don’t, you should. Because it wasn’t your arm that got raised at the end. You didn’t walk out a winner. You crawled out a very lucky man… Well, man baby. You only got out of that match with any semblance of dignity because you took the coward’s way out! You grabbed a chair and swung it like your life depended on it, because deep down, you knew it did! Right into my head, sending me to the hospital with a concussion!”
“And don’t think I forgot about that because bitch, trust me when I say I still owe you big for that one!”
“You didn’t take me down. You didn’t pin me. You didn’t beat me. You escaped me. You took the easy way out because the hard way was about to end with you flat on your back, staring up at the lights, wondering where it all went wrong! You didn’t fight me, you survived me!”
“And ever since then, you’ve been clinging to whatever scraps of dignity you could find. You talk a big game, Vinnie, but every time you open your mouth, all I hear is the sound of insecurity echoing off hollow ambition. You don’t believe what you say. You’re just hoping if you repeat it enough, someone else will.”
“And then you had the nerve to go full high school mean girl on me. You couldn’t handle the heat, so you tried to take a cheap shot at my personal life. You called my marriage to Miles … I believe the word you used to describe us was cringe? Really? That’s the best you’ve got? We’re not in the locker room. We’re not in high school. You don’t get points for bitchiness.”
“But since you brought it up, let’s talk about relationships, shall we? See, I’ve got one. A real one. A husband who stands by me, loves me, and doesn’t just tolerate me because of what I can do for him in the bedroom although I certainly do a lot! Meanwhile, you couldn’t get a date in a women’s prison with a fistful of conjugal visit coupons and a bottle of champagne! You want to throw shade about cringe? Your love life is a ghost town! Your own hand falls asleep every time you go for a good wank! The only thing that’s ever committed to you is your reflection and even that’s close to filing a restraining order!”
“I mean … even your own family doesn’t want anything to do with you! Doesn’t that tell you anything? They see the way you isolate yourself. The way you push people away. You talk about legacy like it’s a family heirloom, but the only thing you’ve inherited from the Lyons dynasty is loneliness and denial! You’re the black sheep who thinks he’s a lion. The outcast pretending he was exiled when he was really just cast away.”
“You strut around the backstage and locker rooms like you’re the future of SCW but the sad fact is that the only thing you’re building is a reputation for running your mouth and ducking responsibility. You’re not the future Vinnie. You're the cautionary tale they’ll tell at wrestling training camps when they warn students not to believe their own hype.”
“So before we go any further, let’s get one thing clear. I’m not stepping into that ring to play nice. This isn’t some handshake-and-hug exhibition. This is a reckoning. You stuck your nose in my business, you disrespected my family, you put me in the hospital and now I’m coming to collect interest! And I don’t care if Alexander Raven decides to lurk around ringside trying to be relevant again. He can take a cheap shot if he wants to, but let’s be real. He won’t. Because Raven’s an even bigger candy-ass than you are!”
“The man struts around like he’s mystery incarnate, but I’ve seen scarier things on a Pride parade float. He’s all eyeliner and ego, and you’re on the fast track to becoming his backup dancer! The two of you together? You’re like a Hot Topic clearance rack come to life. So if he wants to insert himself again, he can try. He can take his swing. But I promise you, the second he does, I’ll snap his wings and send him flying right back into irrelevance!”
“So here’s the reality check you’ve been avoiding. I’m not the guy you get over on. I’m not the stepping stone. I’m the wall you crash into when your mouth finally outweighs your talent! See, you can wrap it up however you want. You can call it destiny, you can call it pride, you can call it whatever buzzword you need to feel important, but the truth is simple. You’re not walking into that ring as my equal. You’re walking into that ring as your own karma.”
“And don’t get it twisted because this isn’t about titles. This isn’t about the World Heavyweight Championship. This isn’t about the Roulette belt around your waist. This is about you learning the hard way what happens when you mistake tolerance for weakness. I’ve been patient. I’ve been measured. But patience runs out, and you, Vinnie? You've been cashing checks your body can’t afford to cover because your talent bank account has insufficient funds!”
“You think you’re going to walk into our Main Event match weekend and make a statement? You think this is your moment to shine? Let me tell you something. I am the statement. I’m the headline. You’re just the side quest that wastes the main character’s time! You are just the pre-show attraction pretending that it’s the main event! You can walk down that ramp with all the swagger in the world, wearing that Roulette title like it’s a badge of honor, but deep down, you know it’s just armor. You cling to that belt because it’s the only thing shielding you from the truth! That without it, you’re forgettable. Without it, you’re just another guy with family issues and delusions of grandeur!”
“Do you want to know what makes us different? Unlike you, I don’t need anyone to validate me. I don’t need to beg for attention. I don’t need to be ‘picked.’ I’m the World Heavyweight Champion not because of luck, not because of politics, but because every single time someone’s tried to knock me off this throne, I’ve reminded them that charisma, skill, and authenticity don’t come from pretending! They come from being! And what I am is everything you wish you could be! Confident. Respected. Loved. Admired. You’ve spent your whole career trying to convince people you’re the future, while I’ve been out here proving I’m the now!”
“So when that bell rings, and you’re standing across from me, remember this! Every insult, every little jab, every attempt to tear me down? It all comes due at that moment. Because you’re not fighting the glitz or the glam. You’re not fighting the persona or pride rainbows. You’re fighting the man. The champion. The husband. The brother-in-law. The fighter who’s done playing nice!”
“And I don’t care what Halloween stipulation this ends up as! Casket Match, Trick or Street Fight, Monster’s Ball… Hell! It doesn’t matter if it’s barbed wire and pumpkin pies, because the endgame stays the same! You’re going to walk in cocky and walk out corrected! You’re going to walk in thinking you’re the hero and crawl out realizing you’re just another victim of your own borderline personality disorder!”
“You’ve been running your mouth about how you’re ready for anything, but you’ve never been ready for me. You’ve never faced someone who can dissect you emotionally and physically at the same time! I’m not just going to beat you, Vinnie. I’m going to break you. Mentally as well as physically. I’m going to strip away that false bravado until there’s nothing left but the truth staring back at you! And that truth is that no matter how loud you shout, how hard you hit, how desperately you claw for relevance, you will never … ever … be me!”
“When the dust settles, and the lights dim, and the crowd stops chanting your name out of pity, you’ll finally understand the one universal law of creation! That the world has never known a bigger bitch than a pissed-off gay man!”
