Showed My Whole Arse
Boyd School of Law
Las Vegas, Nevada
Law school did not care that LJ Kasey had weaponized his own bare arse on national television. That became painfully clear the second he walked into class.
“Oi, cheeks!” someone stage-whispered from the back row.
LJ didn’t even break stride. He just adjusted the strap of his backpack and slid into his seat like nothing had happened and broke into a smile.
Another voice chimed in, "Was that...strategy? Or just vibes to screw with Hendrix?”
“Your Honour,” Marcus leaned over dramatically, “The defense would like to enter Exhibit A: Kasey’s Ass. It was very clearly premeditated.”
LJ finally looked up, deadpan, "If I hear the word Exhibit one more time, I’m suing everyone in this room for emotional distress.”
That only made it worse, someone mimed applause. Someone else muttered ‘cheeky bastard’ just loud enough to be heard that caused a fit of giggles. A girl two rows over turned around and grinned.
“Respectfully,” she said, “I will never unsee that. In fact, I threatened my boyfriend to make it my screensaver on my phone when he argued with me this week.”
“Respectfully,” LJ replied, “That sounds like a you problem. But tell ya what, if ”
Laughter rippled through the room, the kind that felt more fond than mocking. It wasn’t meant to be cruel. It was law-school bonding by way of humiliation, and somehow, LJ had become the center of it. He caught Marcus watching him with an amused smirk.
“You good?” Marcus asked quietly.
“Yeah,” LJ said, flipping open his notebook, "Honestly? If that’s the worst thing I do this semester, I’m absolutely smashing it.”
Marcus laughed, then hesitated, "For what it’s worth, bud...that took guts.”
LJ glanced at him, "Mate, I showed my arse on live TV. Guts were the least exposed thing.”
Marcus shook his head, still smiling, "Nah. You knew exactly what you were doing. You rattled Hendrix without laying a hand on him. That’s....kind of brilliant.”
LJ paused, pen hovering.
“...You know,” he said after a beat, “Honestly....I didn’t even plan it. I just saw him running his mouth and thought, what’s the dumbest possible distraction?”
Marcus snorted, "Weaponized chaos and a tanned ass.”
“Exactly.”
“Well at least the whole world now knows you tan in the nude.”
LJ went to retort but it was at that moment that the professor walked in then, mercifully ending the post-Climax Control roast session, and the room settled into case law and hypotheticals. But LJ could still feel it, the shift. Not just the laughter but there was acceptance.
He wasn’t the wrestler who goes to law school anymore. He was just LJ.
The guy who studied.
The guy who took notes.
The guy who occasionally ruined a veteran’s night by being an absolute menace.
---------
Later That Afternoon
Courtyard Café
Boyd School of Law
LJ was halfway through a sandwich he wasn’t tasting and rereading the same paragraph for the third time when a familiar shadow fell across the table.
“Please tell me you’re not highlighting between mouthfuls,” Miles said, dropping into the chair across from him.
LJ swallowed, "Time management.”
Miles eyed the books, "You look tired.”
“Busy,” LJ corrected, "There’s a difference.”
“Please tell me you’re not studying through lunch,” Miles said, already pulling the chair out.
LJ didn’t look up, "It’s not studying if nothing’s sticking.”
Miles sat anyway, "That sounds worse.”
That finally got LJ to exhale. He dropped the highlighter onto the table and leaned back, rubbing a hand down his face.
“...Mate, I think I fucked up.”
Miles blinked, "Well that certainly escalated quickly. Care to share with your bro?”
“Valentine’s Day,” LJ said flatly.
Oh.
Miles smiled immediately, the knowing kind.
“I haven’t even really thought about it,” LJ admitted, voice low, "Like, at all. Between classes getting back underway, rehab, training, traveling, everything with Hendrix, keeping my head above water JUST BARELY... it just hit me that it’s coming up and I’ve got absolutely nothing.”
Miles raised an eyebrow, "Mate, you just proposed to her.”
“Yeah, which somehow makes this worse,” LJ said, running both hands through his hair, "Because now it can’t just be something. And I don’t want to half-ass it, but I also don’t want to turn it into some big performative thing that I know damn well she’ll hate.”
He looked genuinely stressed now.
“I don’t want her thinking I forgot, or that I don’t care. Or that I’m taking her for granted.”
Miles leaned back, folding his arms, "Alright. Breathe.”
LJ scoffed, "That’s easy for you to say.”
“Funny thing is,” Miles said, “I was in almost the exact same spot on Carter and I’s first Valentine’s Day.”
That made LJ pause, "You?”
“Oh yeah,” Miles said, "I had plans. I made reservations, I was going to take Carter just outside the city to this little farm that you could rent and show his favorite movie with a whole picnic. I had the whole night mapped out.”
“And?” LJ prompted.
“And then Vegas decided to become the Arctic.”
LJ snorted, "Oh no.”
“Yeah, Ice storm hit with a massive amount of wind. A lot of the roads shut down preemptively. The power flickering. My entire plan went straight to hell all within 12 hours.” Miles shrugged, smiling at the memory, "So I panicked a bit. I drove around until I figured it out, I went to the one store and grabbed Carter’s favorite sushi, picked up his favorite flowers from a place that was basically holding together by spite and duct tape...”
LJ was listening now.
“...and we stayed in. Ate on the couch. Watched his favorite movies. There was absolutely no pressure. No spectacle. Just us.”
He met LJ’s eyes.
“Carter still says it’s one of his favorite nights.”
LJ swallowed, "...Because it wasn’t about the plan.”
“No,” Miles said simply, "It was about showing up and showing that I really truly cared.”
LJ looked down at the table, jaw tight, thinking.
“She’s moved her whole life for us,” he said quietly, "Away from Texas. Bringing Ashlyn along. All of it. For me. And I just...”
“You don’t need to outdo that,” Miles cut in gently, "You just need to be present.”
A beat.
“And if it helps,” Miles added, smirking, “Carter kept the handwritten note. I know for a fact that he still has it.”
LJ laughed under his breath, "Of course he does.”
Miles stood, clapping a hand on LJ’s shoulder, "But hey, you’re not late. You’re just busy and human.”
He started to walk off, then paused.
“Oh—and whatever you do?” Miles glanced back, "Don’t overthink it. She said yes because of you, not because you’re perfect.”
LJ watched him go, the tension in his chest finally easing.
He picked his sandwich back up, stared at it for a second... then smirked.
“Alright,” he muttered to himself, "Favorite foods, movies, and not being a dick. I can work with that.”
For the first time all day, the panic loosened its grip. And seemingly for once, the plan didn’t need to be bigger than the moment.
“I would however suggest you find her something nice...” Miles added in.
“She bought me something, didn’t she?” LJ said with a drop in his voice.
Miles didn’t answer right away, "Yeah, I mean...no pressure but..”
LJ sighs loudly, “Ok, well you can give me a lift to the mall then after my last class, because I’ll be damned if I’m fucking this one up.”
-----------------------------
NO ADVANTAGE NECESSARY
Las Vegas – Late Afternoon
The jewelry store was quiet in a way LJ appreciated. There was no blaring music and no sales pitch echoing off marble floors. Which considering the time of year, was legit quite surprising. There was just soft lighting, glass cases, and the faint hum of air conditioning trying its best against the desert heat outside.
LJ stood with his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, eyes scanning the display in front of him. There was nothing flashy or oversized, that would be way to gaudy in Ally’s taste anyways. He wasn’t here to make a statement to the world. This was for Ally.
Something she could wear every day. Something simple. Something that didn’t scream look at me but still meant I thought about you.
He leaned closer to the glass. There sat a pair of small diamond studs along with a matching thin chain necklace beside them. They were understated, clean and very elegant. In other words, perfect.
Before he could catch the salesman’s attention he felt his phone buzzing. He didn’t need to look to know what it was. Another push notification along with another graphic. Another hype blurb reminding the world that LJ KASEY vs BRAYDEN WILLIAMS was coming up fast.
He exhaled through his nose and finally glanced down after pulling it from his pocket and getting the jist of what it read in the hype.
The Uber popular LJ Kasey.
Third-generation superstar Brayden Williams.
Powder keg. Distractions. Revenge. Chaos.
Blah buh blah buh blah
LJ locked the screen again.
“Figures,” he muttered.
Brayden Williams. If there was ever a guy who had everything handed to him wrapped in opportunity and advantage, it was Brayden. Third generation. Name already etched into the business before he’d even earned his first bruise falling on his ass when he learned how to walk.
LJ had watched the tape and studied the habits between reading his case study work. Brayden was never rushed, never panicked. Never fought uphill unless someone forced him there.
Because someone always cleared the path. Of course he also never managed to get a win since he debuted either. I guess that’s a check in the con box for the ever cocky prick he was about to take on on Sunday.
LJ straightened, eyes flicking back to the jewelry.
That’s what annoyed him the most. Not the talent. Brayden had talent, real talent...sort of. He had amazingly smooth footwork, decent timing. Knack for reading a match and slowing it down until it bent to his will.
But it was always on Brayden’s terms. Clean hands and dirty results that never went well in Brayden’s favor because the poor sap had yet to taste the victory. Check another one in the pro box.
LJ’s jaw tightened slightly, "You’ve never had to fight with nothing,” he said quietly, the words barely leaving his mouth, "That’s the difference.”
He thought about everything swirling around this match. Brandon Hendrix is still looming around especially with what he did last week. He knew damn well that it wasn’t about to go away any time soon. Cheap shots lingering in the air like threats waiting to materialize. The expectation that LJ wouldn’t be able to keep his focus where it needed to be.
Everyone was waiting for him to slip.
That was Brayden’s wheelhouse. Brayden thrived when other people got frustrated. When emotions crept in. When opponents started reacting instead of thinking.
LJ had spent the last year learning how to do the opposite. He’d been jumped, laid out, delayed and doubted. He’d been forced to sit still when all he wanted was to fight back.
That didn’t make him reckless. It made him patient and dangerous.
The sales associate approached, polite and unassuming, "Can I help you with anything?”
LJ nodded once, pointing through the glass, "Those,” he said, "The earrings and the necklace, please.”
She smiled and unlocked the case.
As she lifted them out, LJ’s thoughts stayed locked on Brayden.
Brayden Williams was going to come in trying to dictate pace. Trying to slow things down and trying to bait him into mistakes while keeping one eye on the ramp, one eye on the referee.
LJ wasn’t naïve about that. But Brayden had one fatal flaw, he would more than likely assume LJ needed things to go his way.
LJ didn’t. He’d already learned how to fight without momentum and without protection. Without the benefit of the doubt. He’d learned how to stand in chaos without letting it pull him apart.
The associate placed the items on the counter. LJ looked them over once more and nodded.
“I’ll take them.”
As she rang him up, LJ caught his reflection in the glass, tired eyes, sure, but steady ones. Someone who knew exactly who he was walking into that ring as.
Just him.
He took the small bag when it was handed to him, fingers closing around it with care.
This mattered.
Just like the match did.
He stepped back out into the Vegas afternoon, sunlight hitting his face as the Strip buzzed on without a care in the world.
“Brayden,” he murmured as he walked, voice calm, resolved, "You’re going to try to slow me down. You’re going to try to make this a thinking man’s match where you always have the edge.”
“But here’s the thing. I don’t need the advantage.”
He adjusted the strap of his backpack and disappeared into the crowd.
“I just need you to stand there long enough to realize you’ve never been tested by someone who doesn’t care if the match goes your way.”
“There are no shortcuts. There are no safety nets. And for tonight, despite the fact that I know I have someone breathing down my neck...there are going to be no distractions that matter. Just LJ Kasey, focused, grounded, and walking straight toward the fight...and out to make a statement out of you.”
LJ took a few more steps before stopping, the noise of the Strip rolling past him, cars, voices, life moving forward whether he cared or not. He didn’t turn back. He didn’t need to.
“See, Brayden,” he said quietly, like he was finishing a thought instead of starting a threat, “You’ve spent your whole career waiting for the match to tilt in your favor. Waiting for the crowd to be loud enough, the moment to be right enough, the circumstances to finally line up.”
He shook his head once.
“I don’t need the stars to align. I don’t need the ref distracted. I don’t need someone watching my back.”
His grip tightened on the bag in his hand.
“I’ve fought through worse than nerves and a whole lot worse than pressure. I’ve fought when everything around me was designed to slow me down or take me out completely and the most important thing of it all....I kept moving.”
His voice hardened, not louder, just sharper.
“I mean, for a guy that calls himself a third-generation superstar, you’ve never had to answer the question of who you are when nothing’s handed to you. When there’s no advantage left to lean on. When the match doesn’t care about your name.”
He exhaled slowly.
“You’re about to find out, that I really do not give a fuck about your name. Just like I am not my brother, you are nothing like your family. You have to let go and make your own path but since you can’t get your ass out of the curtain-jerker...I’m just going to make it a point to take some frustrations out on you. But don’t get me wrong, mate...I’m not looking past you. I’m looking to set an example and show that I am not about to be another statistic.”
LJ started walking again, the decision already made.
“Because when that bell rings, I’m not here to out-think you. I’m not here to out-wait you. I’m here to make you fight without the things you’ve always relied on. And that? That was the part Brayden Williams had never learned how to survive. Sunday isn’t about proving I belong, it’s about proving you never did.”
