[SCW Staff]

Please post all roleplays here! Have fun and good luck!

[Aiden Reynolds]

One Good Day

The morning light crawled across the mats of Wolfslair. It wasn’t the blinding white of a new beginning ,more like the soft grey of something still trying to wake up. The gym smelled faintly of sweat, tape, and detergent. The sound of the air conditioner hummed somewhere overhead, and for once, Aiden didn’t feel the weight of it pressing down on him.

He’d been here since dawn. Not because he was told to. Not because Alex had ordered extra drills. He just… didn’t know where else to be.

His hands ached from the bag. His knuckles were raw. There was a line of sweat down his neck that had gone cold, sticking his shirt to his skin. He wasn’t training to prove anything. He wasn’t chasing redemption. He was just trying to exist in the space between thoughts.

He wrapped his gloves and threw another jab. The dull thud echoed through the empty gym. Each hit was rhythm, not anger. Each breath was control…….not survival.

But underneath it all, the whisper was still there.

You’re not fixed. You’re just pretending. He ignored it. Hit again. Harder. One good day. That’s what Alex had said yesterday before leaving. It wasn’t a pep talk. It was a statement. One good day didn’t mean victory. It meant choice. And maybe today was that day. He could live with that. A door creaked somewhere behind him. Aiden turned slightly, gloves still up, expecting Alex or one of the other trainees. Instead, it was Austin. Hoodie, coffee in hand, the familiar calm in his posture that felt like a counterweight to all the chaos. “You’re early,” Austin said, leaning against the ropes.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?”

“Noise.” Aiden threw another punch. The sound cracked through the air. “Couldn’t shut it off.” Austin didn’t answer right away. He just watched. The older man had that quiet way of studying people,  not judging, not waiting, just letting them speak themselves into understanding.

“You do realize you don’t have to fight it alone, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He jabbed again. “But I need to.”

“That’s not what needing is, Aiden.”

He stopped mid-combo, turning slightly toward him. “You ever feel like if you stop moving, you’ll drown?”

Austin nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ve been there.”

Aiden’s eyes flicked away, like he didn’t want to be seen too much. “It’s not about the bottle anymore,” he said. “It’s about what’s left when it’s gone.”

Austin set the coffee on the apron and leaned forward on the ropes. “And what’s left?”

Aiden thought for a long time before answering. “Noise. Regret. This constant feeling that I’m chasing a version of myself I can’t find.”

“That’s part of it,” Austin said softly. “The part where it’s quiet, but it still hurts. That’s where you figure out who you actually are.”

Aiden took a slow breath and looked down at his gloves. “Feels like punishment.”

“It’s not,” Austin said. “It’s a clean slate. You just don’t trust it yet.”

Aiden let out a bitter laugh. “You sound like Alex.”

“I doubt it,” Austin smiled faintly. “He uses fewer words and more threats.” That almost drew a grin from Aiden. Almost.

Austin stepped into the ring, slow, careful, like approaching a wounded animal that still had teeth. He picked up a set of mitts and held them out. “C’mon. Work with me for a bit.”

Aiden hesitated. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Let’s see if all that self-pity improved your footwork.”

The gloves met leather. The rhythm started again. Austin called out combinations, steady, methodical…. and Aiden followed. Jab, cross, hook. Breathe. Reset. Again. For a while, they didn’t speak. The gym was quiet except for the sound of impact, the squeak of shoes on canvas, and the rasp of Aiden’s breath. His arms burned. His shoulder throbbed from yesterday’s spar. But this time, he didn’t care. The pain felt earned. It felt alive. Austin caught a jab mid-motion and lowered his mitts. “You’ve got control again,” he said.

Aiden wiped his forehead with his wrist. “For now.”

“That’s all it ever is,” Austin said. “Control’s not permanent. It’s a choice you keep making.”

Aiden exhaled. “Yeah. Alex said something like that.”

“Alex is right more than he’s wrong,” Austin admitted. “He just forgets that people aren’t machines. You can’t train grief out of them.”

That hung between them for a second. Aiden looked down at his gloves, the red fading at the seams. “You think I’m grieving?”

“You’re grieving the version of yourself you lost,” Austin said. “The one that didn’t flinch, didn’t question, didn’t need help. That’s the hardest kind of grief. Because that person’s not dead. He’s just different now.” Aiden went quiet. The words landed deep. He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. It was true. Every time he saw himself in the mirror lately, he didn’t recognize the man staring back. And for the first time, he wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing.

He stripped off his gloves and sat on the edge of the ring. Austin joined him. Outside, the city was starting to stir, car horns, sirens, the faint pulse of life coming back to the streets. Inside, it was just them, the faint hum of the AC, and that same strange peace that Aiden was still learning to trust. He rubbed his hands together. “Do you ever stop hearing it?”

“Hearing what?”

“The whisper. The one that says you’re not enough.”

Austin looked down, then shook his head. “No. It just changes its tone. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s loud. But the trick is, you stop believing it.”

Aiden leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “How long did that take you?”

“Still working on it.” That earned a short laugh from Aiden. He didn’t smile often these days, but this one felt real, small, quiet, genuine. For the first time in a long while, the silence didn’t feel hostile. It just was. The rest of the morning passed without words. Austin left first, muttering something about paperwork and too much caffeine. Aiden stayed. He cleaned the ring, wiped down the mats, folded towels,  simple things that didn’t require thought. When he finally sat down on the bench in the locker room, he realized how still everything was. The same place where he’d almost broken again. The same bench. The same bag.

Only this time, the bottle wasn’t there. He’d thrown it out last night. No ceremony. No big gesture. Just tossed it in a bin outside the gym and walked away. He’d half expected to regret it, to feel panic crawl under his skin. But instead, there was only a strange, almost uncomfortable quiet. He picked up his phone. There were no missed calls. No messages. Just the faint reflection of himself in the black screen. He looked tired, older maybe, but clearer somehow. “Maybe that’s what progress looks like,” he muttered. “Just less noise.”

He set the phone down and leaned back against the locker. Time passed. He didn’t track it. He didn’t need to. For once, the silence didn’t demand anything. It didn’t accuse him. It didn’t remind him of what he’d lost. It just was. Eventually, the door opened again. This time it was Alex. He didn’t say a word when he walked in. He just gave Aiden a look, quick, assessing, and nodded once. Approval without praise.

Aiden nodded back. “Morning,” he said quietly.

Alex stopped halfway to the opposite locker. “You trained early?”

“Yeah. With Austin.”

“How’d that go?”

Aiden paused, thinking. “Not bad. Still standing.”

Alex grunted. “Good start.”

The two men didn’t exchange much else. But they didn’t need to. Alex changed silently, grabbed his towel, and headed toward the gym. Before he left, he stopped at the door. “One good day,” he said over his shoulder.

Aiden looked up. “Yeah.”

“Make it two.” Then he was gone. Aiden sat there for a long while, staring at the door. The words replayed in his head.

Make it two.

He smiled faintly, stood, and started wrapping his hands again. His shoulder hurt. His head was tired. His chest still ached with everything unsaid. But he was here. And that was enough. The world outside would still be loud. The fights, the noise, the pressure…all of it would come back. But not yet. For now, there was only the sound of tape against skin. The steady rhythm of breath. The hum of the lights above. And for the first time, he didn’t need the quiet to hide. He just needed it to start again.

One good day.

Mine

”I did it…”

A deep breath, a heavy exhale. Aiden Reynolds sat forward, clasping his hands together as he balanced his elbows on his knees.

”Despite everything, despite the bullshit that I’ve had to hear and put up with from everyone involved, despite the stupid stipulations and gimmick matches that come with Halloween, I now get my opportunity at becoming the SCW World Champion. And I did it in one of the most satisfying ways. Alexander Raven is someone who many earmarked as a World Champion. He spent years trying to become an SCW World Champion. He went after everyone who held that championship and has never been able to break through the ceiling above him to claim it. Because, quite simply, he’s not good enough.”

“And it isn’t that he never will be. The truth is that if Alexander really wanted to become the World Champion, he could. But deep down, in his heart of hearts, he doesn’t. Because it’s more satisfying to him to be able to whine and bitch and cry and wax lyrical about the state of the company and the championship instead of being part of the change that he so desperately wants to see. You see, if Alexander Raven actually won the SCW World Championship, then he would have to defend it. He would have to be the champion. He would have to lead this company — and he doesn’t really want that.”

“That is too much responsibility…”

“And as far as responsibility goes, it’s a large one. Leading a company is no small feat. When you’re holding the World Championship, everyone looks to you for guidance. And they’re all looking at you like a target. The fans, the back office, all the boys and girls in the back — they’re all looking squarely at you, judging and watching. Waiting for you to do something. Something they can either emulate or something they disagree with so they can jump all over you and try and throw you under the bus. But either way, when you are the World Champion, everything runs through you.”

Aiden closed his eyes and took another deep breath. He calmed himself down as he let go of his hands and pushed off his knees to get to his feet.

”It’s something that very few people are ready for. To my surprise, it seems like Carter has started to learn what it is to be a World Champion. I still don’t think you should be the World Champion, Carter. I don’t think you should’ve beaten Alex, and the fact that we’ve gone from Finn to Alex to you is a huge downgrade. Because you can’t really take anything seriously. You like to pretend that you can, you like to pretend that you are a World Champion, and you like to pretend that you are a professional wrestler — but that’s all you ever do. You pretend. And the masquerade that you’ve been living needs to stop.”

“You have been able to reach heights that so many other people will never even get a sniff at. And you should be applauded for that. But this whole dog and pony show needs to end. You are embarrassing this company. And that might sound harsh, but it’s the truth. When people look at SCW, they laugh seeing you as the World Champion. They laugh looking at you as our World Champion. That whimsical charm that you’ve always had, that most people seem to be drawn to, is excellent for an Internet Champion or a Roulette Champion. It’s excellent to see you in this company, and you are a talented and entertaining wrestler.”

“But a World Champion? No.”

“A World Champion needs to be intimidating. A World Champion needs to be a leader. And you can’t even lead yourself out of the funk that you constantly find yourself in. You and Miles are a toxic relationship built on fake positivity. You lead Miles astray and call it love. He should’ve been a World Champion at least once in this company, but he followed you around and was more concerned with playing dress-up with you and posting pretty little pictures for whatever man-crush bullshit you guys keep getting involved in. He’s more concerned with putting up pictures of you for himself to drool over in the future than he is about training and becoming a World Champion. That’s what you’ve done, Carter. That’s what you’ve done to him, and that’s what you’ve done to his career. All so you can hold that championship like it’s a fucking trinket.”

Aiden started to get more animated now, throwing his hands in the air and pacing back and forth. The anger seemed to be rising inside him — anger that he used to push down and deflect with a joke or something similar. Anger that he never wanted to feel, but now flowed freely through his veins as easily as his blood and oxygen.

”Seeing you hold that championship makes me sick. But I’ve come to a realisation. Last time you and I faced each other, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for the burden of being the World Champion. I wasn’t ready for the responsibility of leading this company. But unlike Alexander Raven, I do want that pressure. I do want that opportunity, and I do want to be the one that everybody targets or looks at for guidance. I want to join everyone who I train with in being a World Champion. I want to join Alex and Austin and Alicia — people who are my mentors, who are my friends. They have their fingerprints all over this company, and they made damn sure that SCW kept its fucking lights on after everyone else left.”

“And they’re still doing it. Austin works behind the scenes. Alicia has had to come back and save the Bombshell mid-card, and Alex came back to stop Finn from holding that championship forever. They’re still trying to keep this company alive, and they’re still trying to keep this company afloat. Meanwhile, you and Miles are playing touchy-feely out the back and posting stupid pictures all over Twitter and making dumb shit jokes. Instead of promoting the company that you’re the champion of, you’re just promoting your own relationship.”

“We get it — you and Miles love each other, and there’s nothing going wrong between you two at all. You never have arguments, and you have the most perfect relationship ever. Because that’s realistic and not toxic and isn’t going to blow up in your face whatsoever. And trust me on this — I don’t care what Miles says. He’s jealous. He’s angry. And he’s hurt. Because you’re standing there as the World Champion, and you took all of those opportunities away from him because you stole all of his focus. When he should’ve been training at the same gym as me and focusing on becoming a World Champion, you swooped in, you took him away, and you’ve now made it so that every single one of his friends and people who could’ve helped him become a World Champion don’t even want to talk to him or look at him.”

“But nah, Carter… you’re a fucking peach…”

“A sweetheart…”

“A champion…”

“Only, you’re not. Not by a long shot. For the last few months, I’ve had a change of attitude. I’ll be the first one to tell you that I never wanted this. I was the guy that everyone looked to for entertainment. I made people laugh with the different comments that I made and my outlandish stupidity — like bringing my pet wombat backstage, so Christian could freak out over the fact my wombat shat in his office. I would make stupid jokes and wrap myself in the Australian flag or start humming ‘Land Down Under’ under my breath.”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself.

”Not now. Not anymore.”

He took another deep, shaky breath before continuing.

”I needed to grow up. I needed to start taking my career seriously — something that you should’ve done when you became the World Champion. And I know, I know, some people — including yourself — will sit there and say that you shouldn’t have to change when you become a World Champion. A lot will sing your praises and talk about how you’re such a nice person. Carter wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just goes and does his job and wrestles and becomes a champion and does so well and has so many fans. It’s just too bad it’s all complete bullshit. And you are the biggest snake that I’ve ever seen in this company.”

“You’re more of a snake than anyone with the last name Harris. You’re a bigger snake than J2H — because yeah, he had a huge ego, but at least he was honest about the kind of prick he was. You’re a bigger piece of shit than Mac Bane…”

“But you try to hide it.”

“The thing is, I see right through you. I see the kind of person you are. You’ve taken away opportunities from those you say you love, you’ve distracted them, held them down, and pushed them aside all for your own gain. You’re holding a World Championship hostage when other people should be the ones leading this company. And you disregard other people’s accomplishments — like going all over X or Twitter or whatever you want to call it and shitting on Alexander Raven’s accomplishments in other companies, all because it doesn’t fit your stupid little narrative that SCW is the only company that matters. And that’s the problem. The fact that you think SCW is the only company that matters means that you don’t have to put any effort into being the World Champion and keeping this company relevant.”

“You believe that all the hard work has been done.”

“If you openly admitted that there are other companies out there, then you’d also have to admit that as a champion, you’re a joke. An unfunny joke. And the feel-good moment you had where you were able to beat Alex and become the World Champion has now overstayed its welcome. Eventually, all those fans cheering your name and talking about how you’re an inspiration and how you’re a good person are slowly going to see you for the real little snake that you are. And Carter, trust me on this — you are going to end up feeling that weight and that pressure, and you are going to start looking for an exit because you won’t be able to do anything about it. So I’m going to go into High Stakes and I’m going to take that championship from you. But not to save you — no, I don’t give a fuck about you. I’m going to take that World Championship because I deserve it.”

[HBCarter]

“A Séance Gone Wrong”

The condo at Turnberry Towers’ was transformed to resemble a goth theater kid’s wet dream, and why not? The world knows that Halloween is the gay’s most holiest of days. Spooky cobwebs, witches brew potion bottles, a fog machine, orange bubble lights and the effect was complete with the Bluetooth speaker playing traditional Halloween theme music, save for the random commercials playing because Carter was too cheap to pay for a subscription.

One of five seated at their dining table, Carter, wearing a black silk robe and way too much eyeliner, spread his arms dramatically. “Welcome mere mortals!” He declared. “To an evening of terror, truth, and questionable taste!”

Miles sat at his right with a glass of red-dyed beer and looked toward his brother, asking, “How did I get talked into this?” To which LJ replied, “Probably a sex thing.”

“Oh yeah…” Miles mused, turning back to his husband’s outlandish performance.

To Carter’s left was Kevin Chapman, their sixteen-year-old charge, earbuds in and beating his palms against the table surface in rapid, musical succession. Beside him sat LJ Kasey, Miles’s younger brother and Carter's brother-in-law, and LJ’s girlfriend Alexandra Calaway, twirling her finger in her hair and blowing an impressive bubblegum bubble.

Carter clasped his hands. “Tonight boos and ghouls, we pierce the veil! We commune with the beyond! OoOOoo!”

LJ looked at Miles and said, “Just remember, you married him.”

Suddenly there was a loud snap, followed by a pop and an ear splitting screech! Everybody jumped and turned to find Alexandra clawing at her bubble gum covered face!

“OH MY GOD!” She shrieked. “I TOTALLY BLEW MY FACE UP!”

Everyone just stared briefly before returning to what they were doing.

“Everyone join hands.” Carter said, eyes closed. “We are about to meet the spirits!”

They joined hands and Carter pleaded, “Spirits of the nether realm, speak through me!”

A beat of silence. Suddenly, the lights went out.

Alexandra called out, “Who's hand is that!? … I said, WHO'S HAND IS… Oh, never mind. It's my hand.”

Miles's voice was heard from the darkness, “Good Lord…”

And just like that, the lights came back on. Only most ominously, they were no longer orange. They were red. Spooky, huh? Carter’s body twitched. His head jerked back. His voice rose two octaves.

“I am here.”

Miles blinked and turned to LJ. “Oh, great.” He said. “He’s been possessed by a theater major.”

“The veil is open.” The voice croaked. “Five souls sit here. Four with secrets unspoken. Two with a cat who judges them all.”

Ms. Thang, Miles and Carter's tuxedo kitty, yowled from the sofa as if on cue.

Kevin whispered, “Okay that’s creepy.”

“Let the confessions begin.” Carter’s possessed gaze swung toward Kevin. “The boy with restless thumbs who hides shame behind memes.”

“Hey, I’m pretty open, man.” Kevin laughed nervously. “What’s there to hide?”

The voice spoke, “You once applied to become a professional mascot for a ferret-themed theme park.”

Miles choked on his own spit, “A what!?”

Kevin’s face went scarlet. “It was a summer job!” He pleaded. “I needed money!”

Carter’s hand slammed the table. “You auditioned in full costume. And fainted from heatstroke in the parking lot.”

LJ doubled over laughing, leaving poor Kevin to cover his face. “I hate this ghost.”

Carter’s voice giggled, a sound that wasn’t quite match his own. “Next, the man who fears conditioner.”

LJ straightened. “Conditioner? No, see, that’s not me…”

“LJ Kasey.” The spirit hissed. “Vain as Narcissus. Yet behind that bravado lies your truest shame.”

Miles leaned forward, practically radiating that older brother glee. “Oh this is gonna be good!”

“You own twelve self-help audiobooks.” Carter moaned. “All titled ‘How to Flirt Like a CEO.’”

LJ’s mouth fell open. “Hey! They were a subscription!”

“You listen to them before dates.” The spirit continued. “And you practice in the mirror with finger guns.”

The bubble gum covered Alexandra looked at her boyfriend and said, “Boy, you look so silly right now!” Causing everyone, spirit included, to do a double take.

The possessed eyes turned next to Alexandra.

“Alexandra Calaway.” Carter intoned. “Poised. Refined. And yet you pretend to be allergic to gluten because you once sneezed on a breadstick on your first date with LJ.”

Alexandra gasped, “I was nervous!”

LJ accused, “You said you had a ‘medical condition!’”

“I panicked!” She cried. “You were cute and I projectile-sneezed parmesan!”

The ghost’s laughter shook through Carter’s chest. “And now you must forever endure gluten-free penance!”

Carter twitched violently and his  gaze snapping toward the couch where Ms. Thang sat upright.

“The feline.” Carter’s voice rasped. “The queen. She knows more than any of you. Her secret is…” But Ms. Thang hissed sharply. The flame nearest her sputtered out and the spirit paused. “We will not discuss the tuna incident.”

Ms. Thang gave a satisfied flick of her tail, as if daring the supernatural entity to try her patience again.

“Moving on.” The spirit muttered. “The husband hides a truth stitched in pride and stubbornness.”

Miles raised both eyebrows. “Oh boy, here it comes. My turn!”

The spirit smiled through Carter’s lips. “Two men who refused to lose a game and found themselves trapped.”

LJ frowned, “Wait, what?”

“You are married.” The voice said. “Because neither of you would surrender in a game of gay chicken.”

A stunned silence followed in the wake of this revelation. Kevin blinked. “Hold up. You married each other out of spite?”

“I’d say commitment, but sure.” Miles conceded. “Spite works.”

Alexandra covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “That’s simultaneously romantic and deeply concerning.”

“Neither blinked.” The spirit said. “Neither backed down. Pride became a proposal.”

Miles looked at his possessed husband, “I mean, he proposed using an onion ring. The ghost’s not wrong.”

The spirit’s eyes glowed brighter. “And yet one final secret remains. The medium himself.”

Carter’s breathing changed—short, shuddering. The room’s laughter died down as the air thickened again, candlelight trembling.

“The medium hides something even the cat would expose if not bribed with treats.” The voice hissed.

Miles leaned forward, face marred with concern. “Alright, enough Carter…”

Carter’s head whipped around as if something unseen was yanking him back! The candles blew out in a single gust!

“Would you like to know what Carter hides about Ms. Thang?”

The cat, offended at being name-checked twice, emitted a growl. Every candle relit at once in a flash.

“Fine!” The spirit snapped. “We move on!”

Miles reached for him. “Carter. Babe. Come on, you’re taking this too far!”

But Carter’s body convulsed, his fingers clawing the tabletop.

“The last secret! The truth the medium hides, even from himself!”

“Stop!” Miles said firmly, shaking Carter’s shoulder! “You’re done! Game over!”

Carter’s head jerked toward him, his eyes now full black. The candles flared high and guttered out, plunging the room into a suffocating dark. Alexandra screamed! Sorry, that was LJ!

From the silence came Carter’s voice, but distorted, echoing. “Would you like to hear it, Miles?” He asked. “The thing he hides beneath the charm and sarcasm?”

“Enough!” Miles shouted. “Carter, wake up!”

But Carter’s mouth moved, words dripping like poison. “He dreams of … “

Carter’s eyes flew open.

He gasped sharply and sat upright on his and Miles's bed. He blinked at his surroundings in the Turnberry Towers’ master bedroom. Miles sat beside him, a hand resting gently on his shoulder.

Miles murmured softly. “You were having one hell of a nap.”

Carter groaned and flopped back onto the pillow. “Why did you wake me up!? I wanted to know what my secret was!?”

Miles’s smile turned warm, fond, eyes full of that quiet affection. “That’s why I love being married to you.” He said. “I never know what’s coming next.”

Turnberry Towers

The pool area at the Las Vegas Turnberry Towers was transformed into a glorified Halloween Wonderland. The pathways to the patio were lined with lanterns shaped like skulls and pumpkins. Artificial cobwebs draped across palm trees with large, plastic spiders entangled in them. Tucked away in the corners, fog machines exhaled ghostly wisps of fog across the pavement for that perfect touch. Even the swimming pool’s lighting added a touch of ghastly class with the surrounding lights replaced with red bulbs.

And above it all, strings of fairy lights twisted like spider silk between the palms, in colors of purple, green and orange.

Buffet tables stretched along the borders of the party, filled with everything from candied apples and popcorn balls to mummy hot dogs and spooky deviled eggs. Gothic attired bartenders busied themselves, mixing drinks such as witch’s brew and vampires kiss while a DJ clad in a plague doctor’s costume pumped out some traditional Halloween tunes.

Children ran about the pool deck in a variety of costumes such as superheroes, witches and skeletons. The adults were as much a part of the fun as anyone. A woman in an elaborate Cleopatra costume stood laughing beside a trio of residents in full Star Wars gear posing for selfies, while an elderly neighbor was dressed in a flapper outfit and clearly winning the hearts of everyone as she danced along to the music with people a third her age.

Anne Thompson, the head of the HOA that oversaw the care at the two towers that compromised the Turnberry Towers, truly outdid herself with the efforts behind this party. Anne was the complete opposite of the HOA stereotype. She truly cared about the people who lived there, and went out of her way to treat everyone equally and with the utmost respect. Which was why she was so conspicuous by her much noticed absence.

At the heart of the Turnberry Towers’ poolside Halloween celebration stood Carter and Miles, unmistakable as the life of the party. Carter’s costume was pure Elton John. He wore a metallic silver suit, the jacket covered with rhinestones and sequins. Beneath it, a pink shirt plus platform boots that practically made him a head above the rest. Oversized white-framed glasses framed his face, their lenses tinted rose-pink, and his blond hair had been styled retro style.

Beside him, Miles was the perfect David Bowie. He wore a form-fitting jumpsuit with bolts of red and electric blue. A lightning streak of glitter on his cheek crossed over to one blue eye. His hair was styled into a glam-rock wave, and his boots were red.

“Have you seen Kevin?” Carter asked, his voice raised slightly over the music as he scanned the crowd.

Miles smiled, handing him a drink. “He’s with Anne. They’re getting ready to make their entrance.”

Carter smirked. “This is going to be good.” And he meant it. Anne was what they call “good people,” and Kevin had bonded with her from the time his family had resided in the condo one floor above Miles and Carter’s own. She had been a mother figure even when Kevin had a mother, if that tells you anything.

“Hey.” Miles nudged Carter, saying, “Check it out.” Carter turned his head and found the amusing (and somewhat shocking) sight of Fenris and David Sheppard in attendance - AND in full costume. Fenris was dressed as a Fallen Angel, complete with black robes and elaborate black wings. And David? Oh he was the Devil with full red makeup and black, leather pants and boots.

“How in hell did David drag him to this party?” Carter mused aloud. “Kristjan hates Halloween.”

“Probably something sexual.” Miles mused in answer but completely serious. Carter shuddered and shot his husband a look and was about to reply when something caught Carter’s attention. His eyes widened, “Oh my God.”

Miles turned and the biggest smile possible lit up his face. Walking arm in arm through the party goers were Kevin and Anne, and for a moment, they looked like they had stepped out of the MCU Universe. Kevin was dressed as Wiccan, the Scarlet Witch’s son and Anne was resplendent, the perfect likeness of Agatha Harkness. Together, they were a vision.

As they approached, the crowd erupted in applause and playful cheers. Carter laughed, clapping his hands. “Are you kidding me!? You two look incredible!”

Anne playfully posed all witch-like, replying, “We do, don’t we?”

Kevin beamed, cheeks flushed under the attention. “Does it really look okay?” He asked bashfully. Miles looped an arm around Carter’s waist, smiling proudly at Kevin. “You look amazing, kid. Wiccan never looked so good.”

“How’d he talk you into it?” Carter asked with a smile, to which Anne replied with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “He asked.”

“Fair enough.” Carter laughed and watched as Anne escorted Kevin off into the throes of the party going scene around them. Around them, the party continued on. Children darted between legs with candy-filled bags, someone popped a bottle of champagne, and a group of tenants started a dance near the water’s edge.

Carter looked around, grinning from ear to ear. “Now this is what Halloween is supposed to be.”

And as the laughter of their friends mingled with the music, the Turnberry Towers glowed, alive and full of magic.


“Do you know what I love about this sport? The unpredictability. You never really know when that one moment that changes everything is going to happen. The one match, the one performance, that separates the names on the card from the ones etched into the history books.”

“That’s what High Stakes has always been about.”

“They call it the ‘Grand Prix of Professional Wrestling’ and with good reason. It’s the one event of the year where every man and woman in that locker room bleeds for a chance to get here. They crave it. They dream about it. Hell, they fight each other just for the opportunity to stand where I’m standing! In the main event, with the World Heavyweight Championship on the line.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here. Because a certain somebody fought seven other men to earn the right to look me in the eye one more time. Aiden Reynolds.”

“Yeah, I know that name well. The man who bled with me and damn near broke me at Violent Conduct X just over a month ago. Men like him are hard, if not impossible, to forget. September 14th. Main Event. That was the first time that I was ever in an I Quit Match. And now, like then, I admit I didn’t get the point of why we had to compete in a match like that, just to fit the theme of the show. But a small part of me is glad that we did because that one match did more for my title reign and more for Aiden’s reputation backstage that any recent matches that either one of us has had. That night, I walked in as the World Heavyweight Champion and I left the same. But I’ll give Aiden this much. He didn’t quit.”

“His body did. And that right there is the difference between quitting and breaking. There is absolutely no shame in Aiden losing our match the way that he did. If anything, it just elevated him that much higher. The man didn’t give up! I literally could not make him say the words ‘I Quit’! And that is why I have so much respect for him! That is why the name Aiden Reynolds is on the tongues of every self respected wrestling fan across the globe! He has earned that respect!”

“See, when you’ve been around this business long enough, when you’ve been trained by some of the greatest minds in this business and been inside the ring with virtual legends, you stop looking at matches as win or lose moments. You start looking at them like mile markers. You look back and you remember who you were at each one. And maybe more importantly, who you became after. That night at Violent Conduct X, Aiden Reynolds became something more and so did I.”

“Because when you take a man to the absolute limit, when you push each other past the point of exhaustion, when the only thing keeping you both standing is pure spite, something in you changes. You see the world differently after that. You see your opponent differently.”

“I used to think I had it all figured out. The championship, the spotlight, the name recognition. The merchandise and fans asking for photos and autographs. There was a point at the start when all I saw was the glamour. But the truth is that none of that means a damn thing when you’re lying on your back with a man like Aiden trying to tear your world down around you. That night, Aiden Reynolds earned my respect. And now? He’s earned his rematch.”

“I’ll be honest. I’ve never thought of myself as a company man. I never liked the term. I never liked the idea of being someone’s golden boy or the puppet that smiles for the cameras and says all the right things. Anyone that knows me, the real me, knows that just isn’t the path I take. What you see when you know me is exactly what you get when those cameras are on. I am, one hundred percent unapologetically … me.”

“So when they announced the High Stakes tournaments, I wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels backstage. Why would I? I’m the World Heavyweight Champion and I had to sit back and watch while eight other men fought for the right to face me. Eight men who could have changed the trajectory of my career with a single win. They could completely alter my fate and I could do nothing. That’s not exactly a comfortable position to be in. Sitting there, watching and knowing that your future is being decided by a tournament you’re not even in.”

“That’s High Stakes in a nutshell, isn’t it? You watch and wonder who’s going to try and pull the trigger on everything that you've built.”

“And when the tournament got underway, admittedly I had a few favorites. Aiden Reynolds, obviously, was right near the top. Because after what he did against me at Violent Conduct X, I knew he wasn’t finished. That kind of fire doesn’t just go out. It smolders.”

“Then there was LJ Kasey. My brother-in-law. And before anyone rolls their eyes, let me make something clear. Family ties don’t mean a thing between those ropes. I remember our ladder match for the Internet Championship last year like it was yesterday. The bruises didn’t fade for weeks. The man is every bit as reckless as he is resilient and if he’d made it through the tournament, I know he would’ve given me one hell of a fight for the big prize.”

“Of course there’s Eddie Lyons, the one they call the workhorse and with good reason. He’s not flashy. He’s not loud. He doesn’t need to be. Because when that bell rings, you know you’re in for a war. I respect that kind of consistency. I respect that kind of drive. And I really hope after I retain in Tucson, he gets a chance for the gold soon after.”

“And then last but certainly least is Alexander Raven. Now there’s a name that sends a chill down your spine for all the wrong reasons. Not because he’s the biggest or the strongest but because he’s the most dangerous kind of competitor. The one who believes he’s always right. The man who looks in the mirror and sees destiny staring back. He’s a liar and a manipulator. And honestly, part of me was surprised he didn’t crawl deeper during the finals against Aiden. If he had, maybe things would’ve gone differently. Maybe I’d be standing here talking about him instead.”

“But I’m not. I’m talking about Aiden. Because out of eight men, it was Aiden Reynolds who clawed his way to the top. And now we’re doing this dance all over again.”

“I admit that I might have preferred a bit of variety in challenges. Nothing against Aiden but when you’re the champion, you want to test yourself against everything and everyone. But then again, maybe this is fate’s way of reminding me that some rivalries aren’t meant to end neatly. Some are meant to define eras.”

“Because let’s be honest. Aiden and I are not just another pair of names on the marquee. We’ve both bled for this sport. We’ve both had our bones broken, our spirits tested and our hearts shattered! And every single time, we’ve come back swinging!”

“This isn’t just a rematch. It’s an evolution. The last time we stood across from each other, we didn’t know what to expect. We studied tapes, we strategized, we prepared. But no amount of footage can prepare you for what it’s like to feel another man’s will tested against yours! To feel his breath on your neck as he tries to drag you down into the dirt! That’s something you can’t learn in a gym. You can’t simulate that in training. That’s something you only learn inside the ring, when the lights are on, the cameras are rolling, and every heartbeat sounds like a drumline in your ears!”

“But now, things are different. He knows me just as well as I know him. We’ve seen each other at our worst. But here’s the catch. This time, it’s not an I Quit match. This time, there are rules. Disqualifications. Count outs. I call it structure. No weapons to hide behind. No shortcuts. No easy way out. Last time, we were given freedom. But this time?”

“This is discipline. This is restraint. This is a true test of skill, endurance, and control. At High Stakes XV, we are going to find out who the better wrestler actually is!”

“People have this misconception about what it means to be the champion. They think it’s about the belt. The gold. The photo ops. The headlines. But it's not. Being the World Champion means carrying the weight of expectation on your shoulders every single night. It means knowing that every person in that locker room is aiming for your head and that every fan in every arena expects you to deliver. It means that no matter how tired you are, no matter how sore, no matter how sick you might be, you show up!”

“Because that’s what champions do. And I know Aiden Reynolds understands that now. He’s not the same man he was a month ago. He’s sharper. Hungrier. Smarter. He’s learned what it’s like to come so close you can taste it, only to have it slip through your fingers. That changes a man. That builds character. That makes him dangerous.”

“I admit when I first walked into this business, I was reckless. I thought passion alone could carry me to the top. I thought if I just hit harder, shouted louder, that I’d make it. But over time, I learned that there’s more to it than that. You have to lose in order to understand how to win. That’s what this title represents. Every injury. Every failure. Every ounce of blood I’ve spilled to hold it in my hands! I chased it for so long, I was starting to listen to my critics and lose hopes in my own dreams. But I was lucky enough to be surrounded by people who saved me from myself. They are as much a part of this championship as I am!”

“This championship is a reflection of everything I’ve sacrificed to be here. And now, I’m standing across from a man who understands that in a way most don’t. Aiden’s been through hell. He’s the kind of fighter who doesn’t need validation. He doesn’t need the spotlight. He just needs the fight. That’s why I respect him. That’s why this match means something.”

“Because it’s not just about proving who’s better. “It’s about proving who wants it more. But let’s not rewrite history, though. At Violent Conduct X, I beat Aiden Reynolds. Fair and square. No excuses. No controversies. And the question now is, can I do it again? Can I go back to that place, that well of endurance, that sheer stubbornness that refuses to die?”

“You’re damn right I can and will!”

“Because this is what I live for! I didn’t get here by accident! I didn’t luck into this position! I didn’t get it because of backstage politics! Every match, every challenge was earned! And if Aiden Reynolds thinks that just because he’s evolved, that I’ve stayed the same? He’s in for a rude awakening.”

“See, Aiden, I’ve been watching you. Watching the way you’ve rebuilt yourself since Violent Conduct. You’ve been playing the long game, haven’t you? You’ve been waiting for this exact moment. And now, here we are at High Stakes XV. The biggest show of the year. The Grand Prix. The world’s eyes on us, again.”

“But don’t think for a second that this is going to be the same fight you remember. Because just like you’ve grown, so have I. You’re not facing the same Helluva Bottom Carter who beat you at Violent Conduct X. You’re facing the one who realized that staying champion means evolving faster than everyone else. You’re facing a man who’s stopped fighting for validation and started fighting for legacy.”

“Aiden wants redemption. I want affirmation. He wants to prove that lightning doesn’t strike twice. I want to prove that I am the lightning. For him, this is about closure. For me, it’s about continuation. The story of my reign doesn’t end here. Not at the biggest event of the year. Not on the night where the world’s watching. Not when everything I’ve worked for is standing right there, daring me to defend it! And on that night, when the world is watching, when the lights are brightest, when the stakes couldn’t possibly be higher? I’ll remind everyone why I am the standard-bearer! Why I am the one holding the world in my hands!”

“So Aiden, come ready. Come disciplined. Come focused. Because I know you’re coming for blood. I know you’ve been dreaming about this since September 14th. But dreams are fragile things. They tend to shatter when they collide with reality. And the reality is this; At High Stakes XV, you’re walking into the biggest night of your career. You’re stepping into the ring with the best version of me that’s ever existed!”

“When it’s all said and done, when the lights dim, when the confetti falls, one truth will stand above all others. Helluva Bottom Carter does not choke on the moment. He owns it. This is High Stakes XV. The Grand Prix of Professional Wrestling. The biggest event of them all! And under that spotlight, with the whole world watching? I will once again remind everyone why I am, and will continue to be the World Heavyweight Champion!”