Las Vegas, Nevada
Thursday afternoon
The living room had stopped looking like a living room somewhere around the second shopping bag.
Ryan Keys sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table. The Roulette Championship had been left across the couch behind him while torn wrappers covered most of the rug and a good part of the table. Unopened packs sat in two stacks beside his left knee. The cards he had already pulled were scattered everywhere else.
There had been a system at some point.
Aron probably would not have believed that, but there had been one.
Mercedes Vargas had three separate piles. Ciarán Doyle had enough cards to hand out at meet-and-greets for the next year. Brandon Hendrix had been moved near the television after Ryan decided he was tired of seeing his face.
Then there was Logan Hunter.
Logan cards were everywhere.
Some were stacked beside the table. Others had fallen against Ryan’s legs. One pile had tipped sideways and blocked part of the hallway. Another had leaned into the couch and stayed there.
From the kitchen, it looked a little like Ryan had built a fort out of Logan Hunter cards.
He had not.
The cards had done that on their own.
At least that was Ryan’s position.
He opened another pack and slid the cards into his hand.
“Mercedes Vargas. Bella Madison. Alexander Raven.”
Ryan held Raven’s card up for a second. The World Heavyweight Championship was visible in the picture, draped over Raven’s shoulder.
“Already got you.”
He placed it beside two matching copies.
The last card in the pack was Logan Hunter.
Ryan stared at it.
Logan stared back with the same irritated expression he had worn on every other card Ryan had pulled that afternoon.
Ryan dropped it onto the nearest pile. Several cards slid off the side and landed across his leg.
“Of course.”
The front door opened behind him.
Aron Baltasarsson came inside carrying two iced coffees and a paper bag from a nearby deli. He shut the door with his foot, took a few steps into the room, and stopped.
His eyes moved slowly over the wrappers, the cards, the shopping bags, and finally Ryan sitting in the middle of all of it.
“What happened?”
Ryan reached for another pack.
“I’m opening cards.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because this looks less like opening cards and more like the house was robbed by children.”
Aron carefully crossed the rug and placed the drinks on the one corner of the table that was still clear.
“There was an incident.”
“What kind of incident?”
“Bad distribution.”
Aron looked down at the Logan cards beside his feet.
“How many packs have you opened?”
Ryan pulled the first card free.
“Alexandra Calaway.”
“Ryan.”
“Zayvion Lyons.”
“How many?”
The third card was Logan Hunter.
Ryan went quiet.
He placed it down with far more care than the situation required.
“I stopped counting.”
“That is not an answer.”
“The number started hurting my feelings.”
Aron looked toward the shopping bags. Two were empty. Another still had packs inside, and one near the wall had not been touched yet.
“You bought all of these?”
“I wanted enough chances.”
“Chances to find what?”
Ryan turned over the next card.
“Myself.”
Aron stared at him.
“The card, Aron. I’m trying to pull my card.”
“SCW offered to give you copies when they printed the set.”
“I know.”
“They offered you more than one.”
“I remember.”
“And you said no.”
Ryan reached for one of the coffees and pushed the straw through the lid.
“Correct.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to pull it.”
“You would still have the card.”
“That is not the point.”
“It would be the same picture.”
“Still not the point.”
“The same name.”
“You’re getting farther away from the point.”
Aron sat down on the couch and moved the Roulette Championship out of the way.
“Then explain the point.”
Ryan picked up an unopened pack and held it between two fingers.
“You open the pack. You do not know what is in it. You go through them one at a time, and maybe you get something you actually wanted.”
“You want your own face.”
“I want the experience of finding my own face.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It is not.”
Aron looked around the room again.
“The experience appears to have cost several hundred dollars.”
Ryan took a drink from the coffee.
“That is not the point either.”
“What is the point now?”
“The point is that I am going to pull my own card.”
“You could buy it online.”
“No.”
“I checked. It costs less than one of those bags.”
“That is somebody else pulling it.”
“It would be mailed directly to you.”
“Because somebody else opened a pack, found my card, and decided to sell me their luck.”
“The shipping is free.”
Ryan frowned.
“That somehow made it worse.”
“There is also a collector’s box with the whole set.”
Ryan looked at him as though Aron had just suggested setting the house on fire.
“Why would I buy that?”
“Because your card is guaranteed to be inside.”
“Exactly.”
“Yes.”
“Then I already know what I’m getting.”
“That is usually considered a good thing.”
“Not here.”
Aron picked up one of the unopened packs.
“There does not need to be suspense every time you buy something.”
“There always needs to be a little suspense.”
“You wrestle professionally. Your life already has enough suspense.”
“That is work suspense. This is fun suspense.”
Aron glanced at the wrappers.
“This does not look fun anymore.”
Ryan pulled the pack out of his hand and opened it.
“Frankie Holliday. Miles Kasey. Bea Barnhart.”
The fourth card was Logan Hunter.
Ryan slowly lowered it.
Aron opened his sandwich.
“You’re taking this personally.”
“I have seen this man more today than Brooke Shields has.”
“That cannot be healthy.”
“For either of us.”
Ryan placed the card on a stack beside his knee. The pile leaned into another one and sent several Logans sliding toward the couch.
Aron lifted his feet before they reached him.
“The fort is getting bigger.”
“It is not a fort.”
“It just reached the couch.”
“It happened naturally.”
“It has walls.”
“That does not make it a fort.”
“What would make it a fort?”
Ryan looked around.
“A door.”
Aron stared at him for a moment.
Ryan shrugged.
“I did not build it.”
“You are defending it.”
“I’m correcting you.”
Aron handed him the second sandwich.
“You should stop.”
“I cannot stop now.”
“You absolutely can.”
“I’m too close.”
“You do not know that.”
“I can feel it.”
“You said that this morning.”
“The feeling has gotten stronger.”
“That might be caffeine.”
Ryan reached for another pack.
Aron caught his wrist.
“One more.”
“That is what I keep saying.”
“You have said it at least thirty times.”
“This time you’re saying it. That makes it official.”
Aron let go.
Ryan opened the pack carefully and placed the cards facedown on the carpet. He turned over the first one.
Mercedes Vargas.
The second was Ciarán Doyle.
The third was Alexander Raven.
Ryan pointed at it.
“Again.”
“The set clearly likes him.”
“It likes Logan more.”
Ryan turned over the fourth card.
Logan Hunter.
He closed his eyes.
Aron looked up at the ceiling.
“That does feel statistically strange.”
Ryan opened his eyes and held the card toward him.
“Thank you.”
“I did not say Logan is doing it.”
“You finally admitted something is wrong.”
“I said it was strange.”
“That is how it starts.”
“There is one card left.”
Ryan rested his fingers on the edge of it but did not turn it over.
Aron waited.
“Well?”
“I’m preparing.”
“For another Logan?”
“If this is another Logan, I may walk into the desert and let nature handle the rest.”
“You would turn around before sunset.”
“That is not the point.”
Ryan took a breath, lifted the card, and flipped it over.
For a second, he said nothing.
The card showed Ryan standing on the turnbuckles with the Roulette Championship raised above his head. Cyan and silver framed the picture. RYAN KEYS ran across the bottom with SCW ROULETTE CHAMPION printed underneath.
Ryan’s entire face changed.
“There he is.”
Aron leaned forward.
“You found it.”
“I found it.”
Ryan got to his feet so quickly that the cards around his legs collapsed in every direction. Logan Hunters slid under the couch, across the rug, and into the space Aron had just cleared.
Ryan did not notice.
He held the card up toward the light and tilted it back and forth.
“I knew it.”
“You were threatening to disappear into the desert thirty seconds ago.”
“That was an emotional moment.”
“You could have received that exact card for free.”
“But I would not have pulled it.”
“You spent an unreasonable amount of money.”
Ryan grinned.
“I found it.”
“You have enough Logan Hunter cards to wallpaper the house.”
Ryan looked down at the mess around him.
“He helped me get here.”
“You accused him of controlling the printing company.”
“It was a difficult journey.”
Ryan slid the card into a protective sleeve and tucked it carefully into his shirt pocket.
Aron started collecting the unopened packs and putting them back into one of the shopping bags.
Ryan immediately took one away from him.
“You do not need that.”
“I found the regular card.”
“Yes.”
Ryan looked down at the pack in his hand.
“There could be a foil.”
Aron stared at him.
Ryan smiled and started opening it.
“One more.”
---
ON CAMERA
Las Vegas, Nevada
Later that evening
The Strip glowed in the distance beyond the patio railing.
Ryan stood outside with the Roulette Championship over one shoulder. A glass of water sat on the table beside him. He looked out toward the city for a moment before turning back.
“Alexander Raven, I know most people expect you to spend this week thinking about Brandon Hendrix. He has followed you around, threatened you, talked about your past, and promised everybody that he knows who you really are. At this point, Brandon has spent so much time inside your story that he should probably be paying rent.”
Ryan shifted the championship on his shoulder.
“I’m sure you’re tired of hearing his name. I’m already tired of saying it, and I’m not even the one he has been bothering. The good news is that I’m not here to ask what Brandon knows. I’m not digging through your past. I’m not going to decide whether you are secretly the bad guy in whatever story he is trying to tell.”
“That is between you and him.”
Ryan rested one hand on the railing.
“I do not need Brandon Hendrix to explain Alexander Raven to me. I do not need some secret from your past or a list of every person you have ever upset.”
“I can look at the World Heavyweight Championship and understand enough.”
“You are the man standing at the top of SCW. People have stepped up believing they were ready to replace you, and you have found a way to stop them. They came after the championship, and you are still the one carrying it.”
Ryan nodded.
“That tells me enough. You are good, Alexander. You would not still be champion if you weren’t.”
“You are not holding that title because management likes you or because the rest of the roster forgot to challenge you. You have it because every time somebody tried to take it, you made sure they left without it.”
A small smile appeared.
“I respect that.”
“I also think SCW might be merging the wrong championships.”
Ryan stepped away from the railing.
“Think about it. Evelyn announced that the Roulette Championship and Internet Championship are going to become one. Apparently, we have too many champions walking around now.”
“She can make it sound simple. Two championships become one, and every chance to win it suddenly means more.”
Ryan tapped the center plate on his shoulder.
“But if the Roulette Champion beats the World Heavyweight Champion, maybe this is not the one they should be getting rid of.”
“Maybe they should hang your championship next to LJ Kasey’s and let the two of you figure out which one survives.”
Ryan grinned.
“I know. That was rude.”
“Only a little, though.”
He adjusted the championship again.
“I’m not saying the Roulette Championship is suddenly bigger than yours because I happen to carry it. I know what the World Heavyweight Championship means. I know beating you on Sunday does not put it around my waist.”
“You could lose to me and still leave Buffalo as champion.”
“But people would look at this title differently.”
“This is champion against champion. I’m not here to give you a useful night before Brandon. We get in the ring, neither title is on the line, and we find out which champion is better.”
“That excites me.”
“I do not need to pretend I hate you. I do not need to call you a fraud, because I do not think you are one.”
“I want to stand across from the World Champion and see whether I can beat him.”
Ryan looked down at his own championship.
“I won this at King For A Day after spending months trying to prove that coming back to SCW was not a mistake. I beat Zayvion Lyons, and for the first time since I returned, I had something real to show for all of it.”
“Then I went to Summer XXXTreme with Zayvion and Ciarán Doyle both trying to take it from me above that pool.”
“They got close.”
“They were both close enough to think they were leaving with it.”
“But I was the one who pulled it down.”
Ryan ran his thumb along the edge of the title.
“That mattered to me because it proved King For A Day was not one lucky night.”
“I won this championship, and then I kept it when two men came after me at the same time.”
“I thought that was the start of something. I thought I had time to build this reign and see how far I could take it.”
“Then Evelyn announced the unification match.”
Ryan looked back up.
“I only just got this back, Alexander.”
“Now I already know there is a chance the Roulette Championship will not exist on its own after Violent Conduct.”
“That bothers me.”
“I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t.”
“But it does not scare me either.”
“Roulette has never given me what I expected. It throws something strange in front of me, and I figure it out before the other man does.”
“So I’m not going to complain that SCW changed the plan.”
“I’m going to adjust.”
Ryan stepped closer.
“If the Roulette Championship has to become part of something new, then I will be the one carrying it there.”
“I am not entering Violent Conduct trying to protect half the prize. I am not going to spend that match holding this championship against my chest and hoping nobody takes it.”
“I’m going there to take the Internet Championship too.”
“LJ Kasey already has his place. Two more men will qualify, and all of them will walk into that match thinking they belong there.”
“Four of us will enter, but only one leaves with both championships.”
Ryan gave the title a light tap.
“I intend to be that man.”
“That is why you matter.”
“Before I face another champion and two men looking to take everything, SCW put the World Heavyweight Champion in front of me.”
“Beating you will not guarantee anything when the ladders come out. I know that.”
“But there is nobody better for me to test myself against before I get there.”
Ryan rested his free hand against his hip.
“I know I can beat talented men. I know I can survive when a match stops making sense. I know I can keep moving when things do not go the way I expected.”
“What I have not done is beat the man standing at the top of SCW while I’m carrying this championship.”
“That is the test.”
“And honestly, I’m excited for it.”
Ryan moved closer to the railing again.
“I do not want you coming into Buffalo with half your mind already on Brandon Hendrix. I do not want you thinking about whatever he plans to expose or what happens when you finally meet him at Violent Conduct.”
“I want the World Heavyweight Champion.”
“I want the man who has carried that title while the rest of the roster waited for him to slip.”
“I want the man who knows how to take control of a match when it starts getting away from him.”
“Because if I beat that Alexander Raven, everybody in the unification match gets the message.”
“LJ Kasey finds out I’m not coming to Violent Conduct hoping to keep the Roulette Championship.”
“I’m coming to take his too.”
“Whoever qualifies finds out they are not getting into a ladder match with a man desperately trying to hold onto the only thing he has.”
“They are getting into a match with a champion who stood across from the World Heavyweight Champion and proved he belonged there.”
Ryan tapped the title again.
“That is the message.”
“The Roulette Champion is here to stay.”
“Not just until management combines two championships. Not just until somebody decides my reign has gone on long enough.”
“I’m here to carry this division through whatever SCW turns it into next.”
Ryan glanced toward the open patio door.
“I’m also not going to spend the rest of the week watching every match you have ever had.”
“Aron would love that. He would sit me down with hours of footage, a notebook, and enough diagrams to make it feel like I’m back in school.”
Ryan laughed softly.
“That is not how I work.”
“I’ll learn you once we lock up.”
“I’ll see how you move, what you do when I refuse to stay down, and what opening you give me when you start getting frustrated.”
“I react in the moment. Sometimes that means I take a risk I probably should not.”
“It is also how I find openings other people miss.”
Ryan looked down at the Roulette Championship and then back up.
“So no, Alexander, I have not solved you.”
“I do not need to solve you before Sunday.”
“I need to stay with you once the bell rings. I need to keep moving when you try to slow me down, and when you leave me an opening, I need to take it.”
“You are good enough to beat me.”
“I can admit that.”
“Confidence does not mean pretending the World Heavyweight Champion is easy.”
Ryan grinned.
“You are not easy.”
“That is why I want this.”
He rested both hands against the railing behind him.
“I do not want a match everybody expects me to win. I do not want somebody standing across from me because management decided I needed something to do before Violent Conduct.”
“I want the man everybody else is trying to reach.”
“For the time you and I are in that ring, Brandon does not matter.”
“His threats do not matter. Your past does not matter. Violent Conduct does not matter.”
“There is the World Heavyweight Champion.”
“There is the Roulette Champion.”
“And one of us is leaving Buffalo knowing he beat the other.”
Ryan adjusted the championship one final time.
“So bring everything that made you champion, Alexander.”
“Do not show up thinking about Brandon.”
“Show up ready for me.”
Ryan smiled.
“Because while SCW is preparing to merge the Roulette Championship with the Internet Championship, I’m preparing to make them wonder whether they picked the wrong title.”
“And beating you would be a very good place to begin.”
Ryan held his gaze forward for a moment before turning and walking back inside. The patio door slid shut behind him, leaving the lights of Las Vegas glowing in the distance.
