Chapter: Sixteen
Turnberry Towers felt different tonight. It wasn’t quiet, honestly it was never quiet, especially when this many people were packed into one space. But instead it had that lived-in feel, the kind of noise that didn’t feel like chaos, just comfort.
Music played low from the radio on the one shelf that sat just beside the master bedroom door, in the background, barely noticeable under the sound of conversation and laughter. The dining table had been pulled out and extended further than usual, plates stacked, drinks scattered, something half-finished in front of just about everyone.
Miles stood near the kitchen counter, leaning back against it with a glass in his hand, watching the room instead of being in the middle of it. Kevin was though, right where he should be as tomorrow he would find himself in what some would consider a major milestone, sixteen.
That still didn’t sit right in Miles’ head. Not because of the number, but because of everything that came before it. Everything Kevin had already been through just to get here and the fact that if he hadn’t intervened when he did, he possibly wouldn’t have made it to that number.
It was hard to believe that 10 months ago, he found him starved, skinny and abused by who knows how many people and now....now he was laughing, actually laughing at some stupid joke that was told. Connor was next to him, close enough that it wasn’t subtle anymore, their hands brushing every so often like neither of them really wanted to acknowledge it but weren’t exactly hiding it either.
Across the table, LJ was mid-story, hands moving as he talked, dragging Ally and Ashlynn into whatever tangent he’d decided to run with. Ash was laughing loud enough to cut through the rest of the room, leaning against Ally as she tried, and failed, to keep her composed. Carter stood near the edge of it all, watching the same way Miles was, arms loosely crossed, a faint smile on his face like he didn’t need to be in the center to enjoy it.
Miles caught his eye for a second.No words were exchanged, just a look that gave Carter the word and with that Carter gave a small nod. Miles pushed off the counter and stepped forward, lifting his hand just enough to get everyone’s attention, "Alright, hold up for a second.”
It wasn’t loud, but it was enough. Conversations slowed, chairs shifted, and Kevin looked up first, already suspicious, "What?”
Miles didn’t answer him right away. Instead, he glanced toward Carter, and that was all the signal he needed. Carter disappeared into the kitchen and came back a moment later with a cake, candles already lit, setting it down right in front of Kevin. Kevin blinked, then looked between the two of them.
“....You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” Carter said, sliding it into place, "Figured we’d get ahead of it before you tried pretending tomorrow’s not a big deal.”
“It’s just a birthday....”
“You’re turning sixteen, mate,” LJ cut in from across the table, "That’s not just a birthday.”
Ashlynn leaned forward, practically bouncing in her seat, "Make a wish!”
Kevin shook his head, but he was already smiling, the kind he couldn’t really hold back even if he tried. He glanced around the table, taking in everyone for a second longer than usual before leaning forward and blowing the candles out.
The reaction hit instantly, clapping, laughter, Connor yelling something that got lost in the noise.
Miles stepped in before it settled, “Alright, that’s not it.”
Kevin looked up again, narrowing his eyes, “What do you mean that’s not it?”
Miles folded his arms loosely, shifting his weight, “I mean that’s not it.”
Carter leaned back slightly, watching Kevin try to figure it out.
“...What did you do?” Kevin asked.
“That tone,” LJ muttered, already grinning, "He knows something’s coming.”
Miles shrugged, "We signed you up.”
Kevin blinked, "For what?”
Miles didn’t drag it out long, "Well as seeing that you are 16 now, we figured that it is time that you finally take something that is rather important, Driver’s ed. We have you set for the full course and it’s all paid for. You’ll begin as soon as we get back from Japan.”
Kevin stared at him for a second, then looked at Carter like maybe this was some kind of setup, "You’re serious?”
“Very.”
“That’s....wait, like actual driving?”
“Along with a few other things but...that’s usually how that works,” Miles said.
Connor laughed quietly beside him, and Kevin ran a hand through his hair, still trying to process it, "You actually did that?”
Miles shrugged again, "Figured it’s a lot safer than letting him teach you.”
He nodded toward Carter, and that caused Carter to immediately throw his hands up.
“Oh come on!”
“No, no,” LJ jumped in, already laughing, “He’s right.”
“I am not that bad....”
“Mate, you clipped a mailbox.” LJ quipped.
That broke the table. Ashlynn doubled over laughing, Kevin couldn’t hold it together anymore.
Carter stammered for a moment before yelling out, “That mailbox was leaning practically in the middle of the road, it’s not my fault that happened.”
Ashlynn lost it completely at that. Kevin laughed too, really laughed this time, and that was the part Miles locked onto. That right there, the whole moment. That was the point and even Carter gave up trying to defend it.
Carter shook his head, still trying to defend himself, "I could teach him.”
“No,” Miles and LJ said at the same time.
Connor leaned slightly into Kevin, looking right at Carter, “For the record, I’d still ride with you.”
“Yeah, because you’ve got a death wish,” LJ shot back.
The table dissolved into noise again, laughter, overlapping conversations, the kind of chaos that didn’t need controlling. Miles stepped back again, letting it happen. Letting Kevin have what really is his moment. That’s what tonight was. Not about anything else. Just this.
—
Later, once the cake had been cut, plates cleared, and people started drifting into smaller conversations or out the door entirely, the energy shifted again. It was a whole lot quieter now but it wasn’t empty. Just winding down.
Connor and Kevin had ended up near the couch, still talking, quieter now, closer than before with Ms. Thang finally out of hiding and sitting on Kevin’s lap enjoying the adoration that Connor gave her. LJ and Ally were gathering things around, Ashlynn half-helping, half-distracting and chatting loudly over with the boys.
Carter disappeared into the kitchen for a moment slightly cleaning up and Miles moved the other way toward the side table.
It wasn’t part of the night. It didn’t belong to it. Which is probably why he went to it. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a folded stack of papers. Kept neat and hidden for now.
He unfolded them slowly, eyes scanning over the top page like he hadn’t already read it a dozen times.
Petition for Adoption.
It was already fully filled out with their legal names and signatures along with glowing recommendations for both Carter and him touting their families, friendships, successful careers and accolades to go along with it.
The steps that turned something already real with the young man that they only knew for a handful of years and joined their home only 10...almost 11 months ago a fully fledged member of their family, official.
Miles got caught up in reading as he could hear the footsteps behind him but he didn’t turn right away. Carter stopped just off his shoulder, looking down at the papers. He didn’t say anything at first, just took it in.
“You didn’t bring this up.”
Miles exhaled lightly, folding the papers back down once, holding them in his hand instead of putting them away, “I know.”
Carter glanced at him, "Why not?”
Miles finally looked over at his husband and with no hesitation or uncertainty, he simply stated, “It’s going to happen.”
Then, just as steady, “But until things settle with everything going on with that asshole Laz... with everything going on...” A small shake of his head, “It just wasn’t the right time.”
Carter watched him for a second longer, then nodded. He wasn’t pushing or questioning it further because he understood.
Miles folded the papers back up and slid them into the drawer again, closing it with a quiet click. Across the room, Kevin laughed at something Connor said and Miles looked over, watching him for a second.
This young man was Sixteen. And here he was safe.
That was enough....For now.
------------------
Turnberry Towers — Balcony, Late Night
Las Vegas
The night had settled in the way Vegas nights always did, fully bright, always loud, and somehow still easy to ignore once you were high enough above it.
Miles stood out on the balcony with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigar resting between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly every time he pulled from it. The city stretched out in front of him, neon bleeding into the glass of nearby towers, traffic crawling along like it never intended to stop. Behind him, the sliding door crack open.
“You always end up out here.”
Miles didn’t turn right away. He just took another drag, exhaled slow, then glanced over his shoulder.
“Better than being stuck inside listening to LJ try and explain something he barely understands.” Fenris stepped out with a quiet huff of amusement, already holding his own beer. He had a cigar tucked between his fingers too, unlit for the moment as he leaned against the railing beside Miles.
“That’s half the fun.”
“Not when he thinks he’s right.”
Fenris smirked, finally lighting the cigar and letting the flame linger a second longer than it needed to before pulling it away, "You used to be worse.”
Miles snorted, "No, I wasn’t.”
Fenris took a slow pull, exhaling into the night air, "Oh, you absolutely were.”
Miles didn’t argue it. Not really. Just shook his head slightly and took another drink. For a minute, they didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to.
The sounds from inside the condo drifted out faintly, voices, laughter, something falling over that probably wasn’t supposed to. Kevin’s laugh cut through it for a second, and that was enough for Miles to glance back toward the door before turning forward again.
Fenris caught it, "Kid’s good.”
Miles nodded once, "Yeah.”
Another quiet beat passed between them, the kind that didn’t feel empty. Fenris tapped ash over the railing, "So... you gonna tell me what’s actually running through your head or are we gonna pretend this is just a casual smoke break?”
Miles let out a breath that almost passed for a laugh, "It is a casual smoke break.”
Fenris didn’t even look at him, "Milo.”
And there it was, Miles rolled his eyes just slightly, "Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything. I’m just skipping the part where you try to act like you’re not thinking about Osaka.”
Miles took another drink, eyes still on the city, "It’s a match.”
Fenris turned his head this time, studying him, "Title for title. Sorry, let me state that properly, the World Championship and YOUR title on the line.” Miles didn’t respond, "Against a guy who’s been running his mouth about your family, calling your belt a prop, and talking like you’re something he picked off a shelf. And you’re out here acting like it’s just another night.”
Miles exhaled through his nose, slow, "I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Fenris took another drag, watching the smoke drift before it disappeared into the dark, "I’ve known you too long, Milo. You get quiet like this when you’re holding something back.”
Miles shifted his weight slightly, resting both forearms on the railing now, "He just had to go ahead and made it personal.”
Fenris nodded, "I know.”
“He brought Carter into it. LJ. All of it.”
“I know.”
Miles’ jaw tightened just a fraction, "Said he’s gonna take everything.”
Fenris took a sip of his beer, letting that hang for a second before answering, "And you’re thinking about making him pay for that.”
Miles didn’t deny it, he didn’t need to.
Fenris glanced over at him, “That’s not the problem.”
Miles frowned slightly, "...Then what is?”
Fenris turned fully now, leaning back against the railing instead of over it, "The problem is you thinking that beating the hell out of him is the same thing as beating him.”
That sat there for a second, as Miles looked at him, not arguing, just waiting because he knew for a fact that K was gonna call him on it.
Fenris shrugged one shoulder, “He wants you like this. Focused on what he said. Focused on him. Focused on proving something to him.” He shook his head, "That’s his world.”
Miles took a slow pull from the cigar, thinking it over, "So what, I’m supposed to just ignore it?”
“No.”
Fenris stepped closer again, resting his forearms back on the railing, "You’re supposed to understand it. He’s not just trying to beat you. He’s trying to control how you walk into that ring.”
Miles’ eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, just in focus, "And how do I stop that?”
Fenris didn’t hesitate, "You don’t give him anything that belongs to you.”
Miles let that sit for a second, "My anger’s already there.”
Fenris nodded with a faint smirk painted across his face, “Yeah. And it’s useful. But only if you’re the one holding it.” He tapped ash over the edge again, "You let it run the show, and now you’re reacting. You’re not thinking. That’s where he’s comfortable.”
Miles took another drink, slower this time.
“You’ve walked your own path this whole time,” Fenris went on, "Didn’t listen when people told you how to do this, didn’t follow their version of what your career should look like.”
All Fenris had to do was glance over and simply state, “So why start now?”
Miles didn’t answer right away, because he didn’t have to.
Fenris already knew, "He wants you coming in there trying to defend your family,” Fenris said, "Trying to prove him wrong.”
He shook his head again.
“That’s not how you beat him.”
Miles’ voice dropped slightly, “...Then how do I beat him?”
Fenris looked him dead in the eye, "You fucking finish it.”
That word again, same one that had been sitting in the back of Miles’ head for weeks.
“You don’t go in there to hurt him,” Fenris added, "You go in there to take everything he’s got and you hold on to the belt that stays with you. You take his and you shove everything down his fucking throat when he has not even a pot to piss in.”
Miles looked back out over the city again, letting that settle. Inside, Kevin laughed again, louder this time, and it pulled at something in his chest that had nothing to do with wrestling.
Fenris noticed that too, "He said he’s gonna take everything from your family,” Fenris said, quieter now.
Miles nodded.
“He can fucking try.” Fenris took one last pull from his cigar, then flicked the ash away, "Just don’t walk in there like you’re trying to protect something.”
Miles frowned slightly, "...Why not?”
“Because you’re not. You’re taking something...fucking everything you have ever wanted. It’s now your fucking chance.”
Fenris pushed off the railing, heading back toward the door.
“And Milo?”
Miles didn’t turn this time just looking back ever so slightly, “Yeah?”
Fenris paused at the doorway, looking back at him, "Keep him on a leash.” A faint smirk, "You’ll never know when you’ll need to get completely stupid.”
He slid the door open and stepped back inside, letting the noise spill out for just a second before it closed again.
Miles stayed where he was, beer in one hand, cigar burning low in the other. And that damn city still moving.
Everything is still loud but clearer now.
A lot clearer.
------------------
Into the Void
Universal Studios
Osaka, Japan
Osaka was alive in a way that made it hard to stand still for too long. Even tucked just off the main stretch of Universal, there was always something moving—people, lights, sound, energy bleeding into everything whether you wanted it or not. It should’ve been distracting. For most people, it probably was.
For Miles, it just meant there was nowhere to hide.
Not that he was trying to.
He stood near the edge of a quiet break in the walkway, just far enough removed from the heaviest foot traffic that he wasn’t getting stopped every few seconds, but still close enough to feel the pulse of the place. The SCW Internet Championship rested over his shoulder, his hand occasionally shifting it back into place more out of habit than necessity. It had been with him long enough now that the weight didn’t register the same way it used to. It wasn’t something he had to think about carrying anymore.
It just belonged there.
For now.
His reflection stared back at him in a pane of glass just off to his right—faint, distorted by passing lights and movement behind him. He didn’t linger on it long, but it was enough to recognize the difference. Not in the way he looked. That hadn’t really changed.
It was everything else.
The road to this moment hadn’t been straight, and that was the part nobody ever seemed to understand. Or maybe they understood it just fine, they just didn’t like it.
“For years,” he started, his voice even, grounded, like he wasn’t trying to convince anyone of anything, “I had people telling me I could be the World Champion whenever I wanted.”
He let that sit for a second, not for effect, but because the memory came with it whether he asked for it or not. Locker rooms. Conversations that always sounded the same no matter who they came from. The quiet pull-aside talks where someone older, someone more experienced, someone who had “been there,” decided it was their place to explain how this all worked.
“They’d tell me I had everything. That I was built for it. That all I had to do was follow the path, take the right matches, keep my head down, play it smart and I’d get there.”
There was no bitterness in his voice, but there wasn’t any fondness either, just recognition.
“And what really got under their skin wasn’t that they were wrong. It was that I didn’t listen.”
He shifted his stance slightly, rolling his shoulder as the title settled against him again.
“I didn’t take the path they laid out. I didn’t wait for someone to decide I was ready. I didn’t spend my time chasing a version of this that made sense to everybody else.”
A small breath escaped him, almost thoughtful.
“I chose my own way to get here and for a long time, that meant people didn’t know what to do with me. It also pissed a lot of people off that I wouldn’t let them dictate every single fucking inch of my career just because they thought that I should.”
There was a familiarity to that feeling—being out of place, not because he didn’t belong, but because he refused to fit into the version of things people were comfortable with.
“They all questioned it, slowed it down and tried to box it in, make it something they could understand. And when that didn’t work, they got frustrated.”
His gaze lifted, focusing forward now.
“But no matter how much they didn’t like it, no matter how much they doubted it....”
His hand came up, tapping the faceplate of the Internet Championship with a quiet, solid sound.
“I still ended up right here.”
There was no emphasis needed. The truth of it carried on its own.
“And now we’re in Osaka. Universal Studios. Biggest stage I’ve ever stepped onto, biggest match I’ve ever had and it’s not just about one title.”
He adjusted the championship on his shoulder again, his grip tightening just a fraction.
“This is title for title. My Internet Championship. Your World Heavyweight Championship, Alex.”
The way he said it made it clear, there was no hierarchy in his mind. No title above the other at this moment.
“Everything on the line, everything you’ve built, everything I’ve fought for...it’s for the whole damn thing and if ANYONE has paid any sort of attention from the time I entered this company to now, you would ALL know that this is the only way that this could have ever gone down.”
His jaw shifted slightly, not from anger, but from focus tightening in.
“And Alex, you have spent the last few weeks acting like this is all part of your master plan.”
Alexander Raven didn’t need to be present for his name to carry weight.
“You stood in that ring and talked about how you chose me. How this is happening because you made it happen. Like I’m just the next step in something you already decided the ending for.”
A faint shake of his head.
“You didn’t choose me, bruv.”
There was no rise in his voice. No need for it.
“You ran out of places to go, and I was the one left standing in front of you.”
That truth settled differently than anything louder would have.
“You wanna talk about this huge narrative and how you think you are some fucking puppet master and how you have all of this control. About how what you say goes, what you do goes, like this entire company moves because you allow it to.”
He let out a quiet breath through his nose.
“It doesn’t. It never has. The World Champion is supposed to be a representative of the company and the weakness of it all with you is that you think you have control when in fact, you don’t have control of ME.”
There was something colder underneath it now—not explosive, not reckless, just precise.
“And then you took it somewhere else.”
The shift was clear, even without volume.
“You started talking about my family. People who had nothing to do with this match and everything to do with why it mattered. You said you were going to take everything from them. Said it like it was already done. Like it was something you could just decide and make happen.”
His grip on the title tightened just slightly again, fingers pressing into the leather.
“You keep saying ‘family’ like it’s a weakness. Like it’s something you can take from me.”
He shook his head once.
“I want to make something abundantly clear, and some people have had to learn the hardest way possible, you don’t get to take from me because if you even try you are gonna get hurt trying. The only thing you took from my family was something that I am absolutely hell bent on stripping from you.”
There was no heat behind it. Just certainty.
“You want to talk about mercy killing, about how this ends with you putting me down and walking out with both titles like it was always meant to be that way...”
A small, almost humorless exhale.
“You barely made it out of that ring with my brother.”
That landed heavier than anything before it.
“LJ pushed you further than you’re willing to admit. You had to fight for that. You had to survive that and now you’re standing there talking about ending me like it’s already done.”
A faint smirk flickered and disappeared just as quickly.
“You don’t even realize how close you already came to losing everything you’re trying to hold onto.”
The noise around him blurred into the background, irrelevant now.
“You call the World Championship a prop. Something people get attached to because they don’t understand what it really is.”
He considered that for a moment, then gave a small nod.
“Maybe it is just a symbol. Maybe all of this is.”
His eyes sharpened slightly.
“But the difference between us is what it took to get here.”
He tapped the Internet Championship again, more deliberately this time.
“I had to fight for every inch of this. And I am talking about every opportunity, not just the ones that I got pulled into unwillingly. Every time someone decided I wasn’t ready, I had to prove them wrong.”
There was no exaggeration in it, just fact.
“You didn’t earn perspective. You decided yours mattered more than everyone else’s and that short-sightedness of your perspective, Raven...that’s the kind of thing that even without the blinders on is going to cost you EVERYTHING.”
He didn’t react to the insults Raven had thrown at him—not outwardly.
“And bruv, you can call me whatever you want. A worm, a mongrel. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve been called a whole lot worse by better men than you or I.”
That cut clean without needing anything else.
“But this is where you got it wrong.”
His stance settled, feet planted, shoulders squared without stiffness.
“You think this is about control. About you proving something. About you finishing me.”
He shook his head once.
“It’s not. This is about you stepping into something you don’t understand.”
A slow breath in, then out.
“You said you were going to take everything from my family.”
He nodded once.
“Now you’ve got to come take it from me.”
The focus in his eyes didn’t waver.
“I’m not angry about it. I’m not standing here hoping I can get through this or wondering if I belong in that ring with you. That the part matters more than anything is I know exactly where I belong.”
He looked ahead, as if the ring was already there, the moment already happening.
“And when I step into that ring on Sunday, I’m not walking in there trying to prove I can hang at your level. I’m walking in there to end this. You’ve built your world around being untouchable, around being the last truth in a place full of lies.”
A faint shake of his head.
“You’re not the last of anything.”
The words settled with weight.
“You’re just the next man in front of me.”
He adjusted the championship on his shoulder one last time, grounding himself in the reality of what he already held.
“And when it’s over, I’m not just walking out of Osaka still the SCW Internet Champion.”
A brief pause...not dramatic, just natural.
“I’m walking out with the World Heavyweight Championship too. Both titles, equal and FULLY earned. And everything you said, everything you’ve built this around, all of it...”
He let the thought finish itself.
“It won’t matter.”
Because the outcome was already set in his mind.
“You wanted everything, Raven. Now you’ve got to come take it from me.”
And for Miles, that was enough.
