Meltdown XL & Fallout 040 (May '24).

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Recorded: May 17th, Hotel Aman. Tokyo, Japan



The skies over the most populous city in Japan are clear as the cameras begin rolling inside the hotel. The clear windows behind give a look at the skyline, showing a light haze from the smog. The hotel appears to be well kept and fairly high class as FWA interviewer, Katie Baxter, sits in a chair, legs crossed while wearing a green dress. Next to her is a table with a championship belt resting on it. It has a white strap with gold plates. The sideplates have an almost diamond like design etched into them with the main center plate having a ringed planet design and purple-ish gemstones. Walking into frame is a woman with two cups of warm beverages and with her mask, she is instantly recognised as Katsu. The Sky Fox has a with a turtleneck sweater, and shorts with black boots. Placing the cup down, Katie smiles.

Katie Baxter: “Thanks, I needed this.”

She gives a friendly smile to the masked wrestler who takes a seat with her own drink. Someone hooks a microphone up to her sweater.

Katsu: “It is the least I can do. I need to show an act of goodwill.”

Her English is a hint rusty, but confident. She sips her drink before leaning in towards Katie, whispering.

Katsu: “And you do know we could have done this online or something? You didn’t need to fly out to Tokyo for this.”

The interviewer shows a small smirk.

Katie Baxter: “I have a confession. My vacation was after the Japanese tour. I spent half in New Zealand and decided to spend the last couple of weeks in Japan on my own time. So I agreed to do this for a little bonus pay.”

The interviewer gives a small wink as the Sky Fox gives a chuckle.

Katsu: “Smart. I hope you enjoyed it.”

Katie Baxter: “Batteries recharged and it’s nice to get back to work.”



Katie turns towards the camera.

Katie Baxter: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Katie Baxter, and I am here to bring you an exclusive sit-down interview with a woman who made her FWA return in Las Vegas at Carnal Contendership. She is a former FWA Television Champion, CJW star, the Kitsune Warrior, Katsu.”

Giving a small wave to the camera, Katsu gives a friendly grin before taking a sip of her drink.

Katie Baxter: “212 days, that was the time between your FWA matches. It was a long road to get there and as some people are acutely aware, there were a lot of hurdles to get there. Some of that we’ll get to in a moment, but I want to start with your return. Las Vegas you returned, entering 26 in Carnal Contendership. What was going through your mind during it?”

Katsu: “A lot of nerves.”

She says before further explaining.

Katsu: “It was quite a long time. 7 or 8 months I think? That is a long time in the world of wrestling. I was worried about whether or not the fans would react to me or care. You mentioned my long road. I have been in and out of the FWA loop so to speak while so busy. There were some weeks where I would get a pit in my stomach thinking about FWA, then other times I would not be able to look away…”

Stopping, she tries to explain how she thought.

Katsu: “Sometimes missing it, other times out of fear. Even stepping back I had doubts in. But once my music played and the people cheered I felt at ease, the more at home I felt. Though it helps that I kept my music.”

Katsu leans in, whispering.

Katsu: “They tried to change my music to this generic Japanese music by some ‘Dubb Rebel’ fellow, but I struck that idea down.”

Katie follows that up with another question about her return.

Katie Baxter: “And your return was in Las Vegas, but people expected that if you would return, it would have been in the Japanese tour, especially when Meltdown was in Osaka, your hometown.”

Katsu: “There were some things we needed to work out. Before we get into that, what I will say is my CJW contract gives them priority over my wrestling commitments in Japan. And while I would have loved to address my people in my hometown, have them see me in an FWA ring for the first time, if there was another place to return, then Las Vegas was just as poetic.”

Katsu takes a sip of her coffee before explaining.

Katsu: “My first appearance in FWA was Meltdown twenty I believe in Las Vegas.”

Katie Baxter: “Oh yes, the Bad Boys Boy Band interrupted our interview.”

The Kitsune Warrior shudders at the memory.

Katsu: “Don’t get me started on those poor musicians. But there is that and Carnal Contendership LAST YEAR, being where the world was introduced to ‘Katsu.’”

The Joshi star points to her mask.

Katsu: “It was a place of new beginnings for me, and my time in FWA began again there. So I went from a girl who was still trying to be what someone else wanted me to be, secretly nervous as she tries to cut her first proper ‘English promo’ to a more confident, well rounded performer who knows who she is and why she is here.”

Katie Baxter: “And that confidence showed. Last year you finished fourth. This year, you managed to finish second. That’s similar to what Chris Peacock did.”

Katsu has a small smirk at the mention of the newly minted Grand Slam Champion’s name.

Katie Baxter: “Though in the end it was Krash who came out victorious.”

The Co-Leader of YDS nods her head.

Katsu: “Somehow finishing better stings more when you are so close. I still have a lot to be proud of. There is something about Krash getting the match against Best which seems… Poetic. Do not get me wrong, I still wanted the match. I just recognise the history there and if I am not the one to end this ‘phony friendship’ then Krash is the one to do it and I will gladly watch that match. I won’t lose sleep over it. Golden Opportunity comes again.”

Katsu gives a small chuckle. She glances to the side at the championship belt.

Katsu: “And I think this time, with a bit more experience, good things are in store for me. A lot has changed, and I think ‘coming second’ will be a thing of the past soon.”

Noticing Katsu’s glance towards the championship belt, Katie changes her focus.

Katie Baxter: “And speaking of things being different. What we have here on our table is CJW’s ‘Intergalactic COSMIC Championship.’ Currently you are the holder of it. Mind giving us a little background on this?”

Picking up the championship belt, it is smaller than the usual belts for FWA, obviously designed with exclusively female champions in mind. Katsu places it on her shoulder.

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Katsu: “I am the 20th champion in this belt’s history. CJW has been around maybe half the time as FWA has and this championship was created shortly after I debuted as a ‘secondary championship.’ So it would be around the level of the FWA North American or X Championship for them. Championships which might not always be the ‘main event’ but are meaningful to hold for their own reasons. I was meant to fight for this championship last year at the CJW end of year show “Galaxy Clash.” But of course, I injured my collarbone in October. So it was moved to February in Osaka.”

Remembering the date, Katsu specifies.

Katsu: “In fact, it was the same day as Fallout from Tsushima. Though admittedly I had a match beforehand on January 4th against Yuna Funanori.”



Katie Baxter: “Worlds Unite, correct?”

Katie clarifies the show and Katsu nods.

Katsu: "I was uhh still hurt, but I did not want to lose out on a personal dream match of mine. I thank Yuna so much for that match. I think if I didn’t win, I would not have been first in line for the championship match upon return. And since then, it has been three defences, though, my match last week ended in a ‘no contest’ due to some interference. But that will be resolved.”

Katie Baxter: “And you say that is on the level of FWA’s North American and X titles? So what championship is more prestigious?”

Katie asks, partially joking, but also trying to stir up a little controversy. The CJW star is able to laugh her way through it.

Katsu: “A championship is built on both its previous champions and the people who hold it now. FWA’s championships have been around much longer. So they have a list of champions ranging from legendary to forgotten. The sample size is smaller for this, about fourteen different women? But this is my first singles championship in CJW after working for it for seven years. So it means a lot to me, and that is what matters. No matter how long I will hold it, I will try to enjoy it, and it has been my priority the past few months.”

Katie Baxter: “And CJW has been your priority for the past while. So I think now is the time to ask-”

The interviewer leans in and asks bluntly.

Katie Baxter: “What happened between you and CJW and FWA?”

Taking a deep breath, Katsu has been expecting this question and has been dreading it. But it is time to get it addressed and moved on from. She places her championship on the table.

Katsu: “Before I get into detail, I just want to explain how my contracts work. As I said, CJW has priority over Japan. My FWA contract is per appearance, and they get priority almost any other place. So I get paid when I appear depending on the matches I wrestle or what I do along with merchandise. When I was healed up, it coincided with FWA’s tour of Asia and Japan. Some shows did have overlap, like I said, the night I fought in Osaka, FWA was having Fallout. So, something could be worked out, correct? Well, around the time I was injured things began to, uh, become tense.”

Katie Baxter: “And why?”

Katie Baxter tries to keep Katsu on track. The wrestler sighs. She twirls her finger in her hair sticking out of her mask.

Katsu: “I broke my collarbone at home after a flight. Cali was visiting since she flew with me. I fell, my shoulder hit the side of something and felt a snap. As I was at the hospital, they were running tests, asking me questions and they found I had a lot of symptoms of long-term fatigue. I admit, I was feeling tired at the time, I was not careful and likely tripped on something. Once the news came back to both CJW and FWA, neither group was happy. Fingers were pointed and things unravelled. At the time, one week I would appear for CJW and our weekend tours often had two shows, and occasionally a week long tour with four and I would wrestle on all of them. Then in FWA I was balancing two divisions at once, wrestling multiple times in a show then. Then add the fact we have done international tours with a lot of travel. But each company would point to the other for them ‘over-doing it’ for me.”

She shakes her head. Some frustration is heard in her voice. She stops.

Katsu: “And for the record, it was my choice to wrestle two divisions at once. It was my choice to wrestle multiple shows in Japan to make up for the ones I would miss from being overseas. I knew the challenges, and it was mentally draining. But even if I would tell both companies that, it would not matter.”

Putting her hand in a fist, there is a physical sign of the strain this whole situation has put on her mentally.

Katsu: “This opened up a can of worms as I think they say in English and it seemed like for weeks on end, every mistake or ‘wrong-doing’ by the other was put on blast. Some ‘issues’ that were brought up from around the time I started, and a few more recent. I-I don’t think it would be appropriate to list every single thing. It would not be productive and really, there is no ‘right side’ or wrong side to this. Just anger. That anger even went to my friends in YDS. Everyone was so mad I-”

Seeing the frustration on her guest’s face, Katie gives a small nod, letting Katsu take a moment to collect myself.

Katsu: “I felt stuck between these two worlds, like in the middle of your parents fighting. I felt trapped watching FWA in my home, unable to share it with them.”

Katie nods her head, feeling some understanding as Katsu gets honest.

Katie Baxter: “Is that why it took so long?”

Katsu nods her head.

Katsu: “I had a responsibility to CJW as a champion. Getting involved in this would have not ended well. I also know FWA has done so much for my career and I felt guilty. Why did I get hurt? Why am I a burden to them? Why do both?”

Rubbing her head, the Kitsune Warrior exhales and leans back in her chair.

Katsu: “CJW. My home. The place I began. The place that trained me, where I met my friends who I hope are with me for life. I left home at 16 so I could be in CJW and I grew up there. Saori Suzuki became like a big sister to me, mentoring me. Ririko was always supportive and ready to cheer me up. Cali opened my eyes to the world and to people who are different. YDS became more than a unit. Family. FWA. The place that allowed me to see the world. The place where I got better and made being a singles champion a reality. The first time flying to Las Vegas, I was in awe. Going to the Superdome in New Orleans for Lights Out made me feel like I was in a futuristic Tokyo Dome. Then to Europe, the United Kingdom, Germany, and so on. Even if I lost against big names early on and I hated it… I got better each time. It made me become Katsu.”

Katie Baxter: “Well, we are fortunate to have you here. I’m glad FWA has been a big thing to you, but how did it get fixed?”

Katsu: “Osaka.”



She answers.

Katsu: “In Osaka I came to the show unknown to people. I was considering asking to leave FWA for the time being. Continue to wrestle at home because I was able to drown this all out when I wrestled. Then when the time was right, maybe come back? But hearing the crowd, seeing some familiar faces reminded me how much I missed FWA. I went into Russnow’s office and explained my hopes to return. I set up a meeting between him and CJW’s representatives in Sapporo before Fallout. We met that morning and it took until after lunch with me playing as a translator. Finally both sides listened to each other, and things were resolved. CJW even suggested I appear in Carnal Contendership, and the rest was history. Things are better now, and I hope if there are issues again, they will talk. CJW is family. FWA is family. Wrestling is one big family, and it is best when we work together. I am just happy to be back.”

With the feel good message at the end, Katsu gives a small smile. Katie Baxter is taken back by how honest Katsu was, not dodging the questions.

Katie Baxter: “I think that message is one we can get behind. But while you have the Steel Roulette upcoming against some big names, future Hall of Fames no less, before that we have Back in Business. What plans do you have?”

Katsu: “For the Steel Roulette, I want to build my momentum for it. Cyrus Truth I faced last year before Back in Business and it is one of my favourite matches I have had in FWA. Gabrielle has been a dream match of mine that has been taken from me before. Trevor Ocean and Gino I am not too familiar with, but I’m looking forward to seeing how they grow before then, and Mike Parr, Hall of Famer even without a world title, someone I also was robbed of a chance of facing before. An amazing list of competitors… And I placed higher than all of them. But that was one night. I need to do my best for them.”

Katie asks Katsu again one more question.

Katie Baxter: “And what about Back in Business?”

Tapping her finger on the table, Katsu thinks and hums.

Katsu: “Quality over quantity.”

She says.

Katsu: “I competed in two matches over the weekend last year, and spread myself thin. So I prefer to get a quality match. I know I have not been around much as of late, but given the fact I did not stop ‘working’ and my runner up position, I earned the right to sink teeth into something?”

Katie Baxter: “And that would be?”

Katsu: “A match where there can be passion and meaning”

The masked wrestler’s eyes glance at her Intergalactic COSMIC title.

Katsu: “And whether it is directly for a championship, or someone of championship quality, I want to go to the bright lights of New York at Back in Business and shine for the world to see. Since I was injured, FWA has changed. Records were challenged. People joined me on the injured list, some yet to return, others quicker than expected. Queen’s and Kings have been crowned, the kaiju hunter has become the kaiju, and some people I felt have lost their heart or mind. I’ll admit, at the height of my time away, I lost some of that motivation for FWA, but my passion for wrestling, for my career, didn’t die. It is only stronger…”

Katsu looks at Katie.

Katsu: “-And I want to grow it. Grow the passion for FWA, its fans, its roster and raise myself further. プロレスの心臓は私と私が表現するものとともに鼓動しています。”

Katsu clarifies in English.

Katsu: “I am the heart. I give life. What FWA needs is New Life. Something different. YDS は、私たち全員が異なるものを称賛します。I am different. I will be in the building for Meltdown and Fallout. That much I can promise. And maybe, I’ll make my intentions known?”

Nodding, Katie gives a small wink.

Katie Baxter: “And there, that’s the cliffhanger we needed. Thank you once again, Katsu, for doing this.”

The masked wrestler smiles, grabbing her belt from CJW.

Katsu: “Same for me, I got a lot off my chest and you have always been good. I hope this was an okay ‘return to work’ for you.”

Looking at the camera, Katie Baxter signs off.

Katie Baxter: “Thank you for tuning in to this online exclusive interview. Remember to follow us on social media, Katsu at Katsu_YDS. Tune into Meltdown, Thursday May 23rd from the Denver Coliseum, and Fallout, Saturday the 25th from the Allstate Arena just outside of Chicago, both on the WC Network. Until then.”

Katie gives a wave to the camera as the camera zooms in, focusing on the Tokyo skyline as the video ends.

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The Right Side of the Bed Club in the heart of sinful Las Vegas had become one of the more infamous Clubs around. Always full of powerful, beautiful and overtly sexual people there to embrace their lack of inhibitions. It was hedonistic and debaucherous. Everyone knew if you wanted to embrace your most sinfully sexual side this was the Club to go too.

If you wanted to embrace your wildest fantasies. If you wanted to be surrounded by people parading around in as little clothing as possible this was the place to be.

But not so much anymore…

It has been much quieter thesedays. The Clubs owner XperienX Xtacee had let his interests and his focus wander, as well as his enthusiasm and belief in himself and his Club. It’s been much emptier recently, barely looked after. Verging on falling into complete abandonment and disrepair.


In its glory days not long after Mr. Xtacee had debuted in the FWA in the 2023 Carnal Contendership match a future FWA Hall of Famer now dabbling in other ‘exploits’ on film had even filmed one of her scenes for Evil Angel at the Club. XperienX was paid quite well for ‘renting’ out a VIP room for the night. And as a bonus he got to meet this future Hall of Famer, the Goddess of many Coatings herself. A brief encounter that could have instilled something inside the young man.

But this isn’t about XperienX Xtacee, at least not yet. This isn’t about how popular this Club used to be. This isn’t about what that woman with her Caramel complexion had done in this Club. But rather what she is currently doing in this Club…

It is a year later that Gabrielle had found herself back in this place. Invited here by a man who had simply introduced himself to her as ‘The Gentleman’ backstage at the Carnal Contendership. He was well dressed, and carried himself with an air of absolute surety, accompanied by a Texan accent. Despite being an older man, definitely in his 60’s he was still clearly quite fit, even maybe still attractive in a grizzled sort of way.

He’s also so very similar to so many of the men in Gabrielle’s life; he knows what he wants and he knows how to get it. What he wants right now is to bring the Right Side of the Bed back to its former glory after buying his way into the business recently.

He has a plan for this, and as an experienced Manager of Pro Wrestlers, and a long time fan of Professional Wrestling he has very particular ideas in mind. Helping Xperience Xtacee reach his full potential is part of his plan. If XX can reach Championship Gold this Club will blossom from that. People resonate with and respect a winner, and people will come from all around to Party with a Winner.

Then, there’s the other part of his plan. The part that currently has her head buried in The Gentlemans lap as he grasps a handful of her long brunette hair. This Club is all about raunchy, about sex, about sin and skin. He knew exactly who to approach, afterall in the World of Pro Wrestling who better to approach with such a matter?

And of course people will come from all around to party with her…

She would be perfect working here in some capacity. She’s everything that the Right Side of the Bed Club represents and needs. Perhaps even moreso. The Gentleman is unsure of exactly what role she could fill here. This place is no Brothel. Becoming an out and out Pornography studio seems just that step too far, and besides despite what her current actions may suggest she’s not currently áctive’ in that industry.

Perhaps she could be a dancer here. She could even just walk the floor and make sure the patrons are happy and looked after. But those thoughts are far from his mind currently. She’s busy making sure he is happy and looked after…in his own Club.

He’s getting lost in her deep brown eyes as she looks up at him from her knees. All her clothes long since removed as she kneels between his legs and bobs her head up and down in his lap. His grip sporadically getting tighter on her hair, as do her lips.

It was easy to get her here, and easy to get her on her knee’s like this. The Gentleman is a fan of her work, so he had certain expectations. But still, she had surprised him with the easines in which she’d engaged in sucking off an old man she’d only recently met in a nearly abandoned Club.

This woman is in the Hall of Fame, yet she finds herself eagerly in situations like this.

…

It is only after he’s ‘finished’, pulled his pants up and taken a phonecall in another room that it can sink in to her just how easy this was.

She wipes at the corners of her mouth with a slight smile upon her face. There’s no regret, no moment of clarity where her actions sink in and she has too try and explain to herself what she’s just done. She’s used to this. This is just her life, what her life has become and its as simple as that. This is her new normal.

…

She’s slipped her slinky light blue dress back on now. With its high hemline, plunging neckline and being backless it conceals very little of her body. Its a dress that all at once carries an air of expense and high fashion…while inviting lewd thoughts and stares. She’d look at home walking a red carpet, or laid out on the carpet.

The Gentleman has disappeared into some back room for now. While this Goddess as she has been called in different ways has found her way into a familiar room. A room she had spent some time in a year prior. It had afforded her a moderate level of privacy back then. Elevated above the Club, tinted windows, though not impossible to see through.

She had filmed one of her most watched scenes in this room, and if she’s being honest one of her most enjoyable. Something about the voyeuristic nature of it had resonated with her at the time, maybe it was because she felt so seen during the scene. That is what she was chasing at the time afterall. Affirmation, acknowledgment, attention, acceptance.

Things she still chases. Things that bring her to places like this, with men like that, to do what she’s done a year ago, and just moments ago.

She sits down alone in this room unlike last time and just looks at her reflection. A year prior the group of men making up the film crew along with her co-star had delighted in making her look into that mirror but today it’s just her.

She marvels at her own beauty, at that famed skin tone, at her curves seductively and barely hidden from her eyes. She still has an ego, she always will. That ego perhaps even ‘protects’ her these days from judging herself too harshly. She can see why she’s so lusted after, she can see why nearly all the men she’s ever met have wanted too and often have bedded her.

She’s proud of this, a warm smile crossing her face as she sits down on the leather couch that occupies the back wall. Her looks have aged well deep into her 30’s. Her looks kept her relevant. Her looks gave her an identity when she had given up on what she had spent most of her life doing.

She can envision herself occupying this space again, surrounded by other beautiful people should The Gentleman and XX successfully bring this Club back to its glory days. Its weird to think she’s here hanging out in a Club owned by someone she’ll be punching in the face in a weeks time. It is even stranger to think that the man who was palming the back of her head just moments ago might be managing someone she’ll be spiking into the canvas head first in a weeks time.

She chuckles at that thought for a moment. Giving head and spiking heads, the story of Gabrielle.

That joyful little chuckle doesn’t last too long though. There’s a reason she excitedly agreed to meet The Gentleman here. There’s a reason she helped him slide her out of her dress. There’s a reason she danced for him. There’s a reason she buried her head in his lap.

It was a distraction from what fate has brought her…a distraction from a so called “Golden Opportunity”.

Gabrielle in places like this, with men like that, doing what she had done can all be traced back to her last Golden Opportunity.

While everyone else ‘lucky’ enough to qualify may be seeking to make the most of it, Gabrielle is doing her best to forget all about it by diving into the sort of things she was driven to by it in the past.

The Gentleman probably thought he was smooth talking Gabrielle onto her knees so easily, in reality he was important enough, seedy enough, endowed enough for her to welcome him as a distraction.

It's all she wanted right now. Carnal Contendership ideally for her was a win or absolutely lose occasion. First or last, any inbetween can bring a nightmare back into her World…

She closes her eyes tightly. At times she’d almost feel dead inside, another way she protects herself from judging herself too harshly.

It was fun right to get one over Lizzie Rose again.

It was exciting to come so close to winning the whole thing.

Yet Gabrielle had almost instantly contemplated withdrawing from the Golden Opportunity.

A distraction is needed, again.

But not ‘that’, not again.

He’s probably too old to get it up again so soon.

Gross.

Again, a distraction is needed.

XX. Its his Club she’s in after all. She cant give herself and that knot of dread in her throat all of the credit for why she’s here. XperienX had reminded her of the sort of people she’d worked with. The Gentleman had reminded her of the sort of people she’d meet and sleep with prior to working with their clients.

That was pretty standard. If Gabrielle was going to work with XperienX then she had to prove herself with The Gentleman first. Old habits die hard. You live like that for 8 months or so and it becomes the norm. Perhaps Mr Xtacee’s own overt sexuality had clouded Gabrielle’s mind as well. She’d seen the comments on social media when this match was announced; it was just going to be a porno in the ring.

She wants to convince herself that it wouldn’t be that, she’s a professional…but she’s here afterall. Maybe their match will descend into a porno? Maybe the Foreplay and the Climax will be unlike any that XperienX has hit in the ring before. And maybe Gabrielle wont be able to resist it.

She should hate herself, she knows that deep down

Inducted into the Hall of Fame despite what she was doing at the time, and she hasn’t changed much. From Back In Business Main Events to meeting strange men in empty Clubs…

The smile has gone from her face, but at least the Golden Opportunity isn’t on her mind anymore. She does have moments where she regrets the life paths she has chosen. Its why she had tried to quit Porn several times. It's why she finally did and then returned to the FWA. But still she’d found herself crawling back to Desmond for a sense of self worth.

She finds herself here, sitting on the same leather couch she was bent over a year earlier with a camera in her face.

XX should just be an opponent, nothing more. She’s fallen on hard times in the ring (giggle), she’s desperate for a win. As desperate as she was when she left the FWA, found herself stripping, and then found herself fucking on film.

She knows XperienX is desperate, as desperate as she is. He needs a win as well. His Club has fallen on hard times because he too was wallowing in self doubt and self loathing. Funny how that works out.

She stares upon her reflection again. Wanting to cheer herself up. Her brunette hair is a bit of a mess, but in a flirty kind of way. She adjusts her dress, playing with the way the low neckline exposes her ample cleavage.

Its sad to anyone else that truly cares about her, and it will be sad to her as well in time to come. But there's a sense of pride that comes from how she looks, how desirable she is, how sinful she has become. Her self worth is so wrapped up in letting men put her on her back outside of the ring.

She just doesn’t want to be put on her back in the ring anymore. Her and XperienX Xtacee could make magic together…but they cant. They shouldn’t. She needs the win. She needs to feel her hand raised again.

Carnal Contendership, both the event and the titular match itself, is over.

Championships have been won. Championships have been defended…barely. And the main event of Back in Business has been determined.

For FWA referee Richard Davis, still suffering from the vicious attack that he endured in the events opening contest, it’s a bit of a somber thought as he’s backstage, searching the bowels of the Sphere theater as FWA personnel and wrestlers have already begun to file out to find rest or reverie in the City of Sin. However, Richard’s been around long enough to know that a certain wrestler has a habit of being the last to leave as much as he’s the first to arrive at any given event.

Referees are supposed to be impartial, and never show favoritism towards any specific wrestler. And sure, when the bell rings and the action begins in the squared circle? Richard Davis has always and will always call the matches down the middle and enforce whatever the rules of the contest is.

But…that doesn’t mean that there isn’t respect that extends well beyond whatever happens between the ropes.

And certainly, even regrets about the outcomes of the matches themselves.

It takes Richard a while to find him, but eventually he does. Not in the locker room, not where catering was set up, nor in the trainer’s room.

Richard Davis finds Cyrus Truth sitting on a staircase outside of the Sphere, nursing the myriad of bruises, aches, and pains with an ice pack he likely nicked from one of FWA’s medical team. But The Exile is not alone, as his tag team partner and Fallout commentator Konchu Hao is standing nearby with his minion Epsilon.

It seems, as Richard observes, that he’s not the only one that has regrets about how events went down tonight.

“Truth, I must apologize again profusely for not being here for your World Title match. I suspect that those reprobates sabotaged my rental vehicle, and finding public transportation is always a bloody mess during FWA events. But I SHOULD have been here. I should’ve found a way to make sure that those wretched cretins and that barbaric lout did not have the chance to intervene and…”

“Konchu, relax, it’s fine.”

“Bloody hell it is! This continues to happen to you when you’re within micrometers of reclaiming the World Title, and it’s abhorrent that FWA management will do nothing to correct it. That imbecile Russnow is about as effective as mammary glands on a…”

“Hey…Cyrus?”

Richard’s voice cuts through the conversation mid-Konchu rant as all three FWA talents turn their attention to the referee. Richard, despite being about as imposing as a referee can be in the sport of professional wrestling, nevertheless nervously approaches The Exile and The Mad Wizard, head somewhat low and voice somewhat muted.

“Hey…I, uh…I just wanted to say ‘Sorry’ about what happened in the cage tonight. I tried to keep Stache and Amigo out, but…”

Konchu cuts him off with a biting, angry interjection.

“Well, you should be damn well sorry! The entire point of the cage and you being out there was to keep those horrid wretches from interfering! You should have exercised your authority and forced them to leave ringside immediately!”

“It was a cage match, I didn’t think…”

“YES! That was the folly! You did not THINK, and because of that? Truth is not the World Champion, as he damn well should…”

“Konchu! Enough!”

Konchu, normally not one to be cowed by anyone, immediately clams up as Cyrus barks out his own rebuttal, speaking with force and authority despite the evident pain etched on his face. Cyrus then turns his gaze to Richard Davis, who seemingly braces himself for a proper lashing from the man who lost his championship match due, in part, to his inability to control the interference from the Friendship Wrestling Alliance.

But, as he stands ready to take everything on the chin, something every good referee ends up doing at one point or another in their career, he’s absolutely floored by what Cyrus says next:

“Hey, are you alright? You took a pretty nasty chair shot from Baxter.”

Did…did one of the most anti-social wrestlers in FWA history, a man who commands and demands as much excellence from his peers and those in his purview as much as he does himself, just ask Richard Davis…a lowly referee, if HE was all right?

Without any bitterness or irony?

Richard looks at Cyrus and sees that…yeah. There’s a look of legitimate concern on Cyrus’s face. It’s not overt, and not as if The Exile’s expression belays any REAL concern…but the question is still genuine.

Richard scratches the back of his head sheepishly as he eventually answers.

“Um...I’m…I’m okay. My back hurts like a sonofabitch, but I’ll be okay. Heh…kind of reminds me of my football days, to be honest. Lot more painful than getting tackled out of my cleats, though.”

“Yeah…I imagine so.”

Cyrus, slowly, rises to his feet and starts to walk over to Richard. However, before he can reach him, he staggers and falls to a knee. The Exile winces and clutches his head, the after-effects of Baxter’s chair shot to his skull still there, only exacerbated by competing in the Carnal Contendership Match.

Epsilon immediately goes to Truth’s side as Konchu reaches out to help him. Cyrus, however, calmly brushes The Mad Wizard’s hand aside as he grabs Epsilon’s shoulder and uses him as a crutch to get back to his feet. Shaking some of the cobwebs out of his mind, Cyrus gives Konchu and Epsilon a reassuring look, telling them without words that while he’s definitely hurting, he’ll be okay.

Cyrus Truth approaches Richard Davis and extends his hand.

“I appreciate you trying, Rich. Lots of referees wouldn’t go through the trouble and risk getting their shit stomped in, but you did. Thanks for that.”

Richard looks floored by the graciousness on display from one of wrestling’s most vicious and demanding misanthropes, but he eventually shakes off the initial shock and takes the offered hand.

As the two shake, Konchu tilts his head as if he’s just as confused by this display as the referee.

“Well…I suppose if you’re all right with it, I can be as well. Although I am still confused. Not only were you robbed of the World Title by that gaggle of rakehells and that brutish blackguard Baxter, but you came up short in Carnal Contendership in the same night.”

“Just because I’m not losing my shit over it, Konchu? Doesn’t mean you have to remind me about it. The near concussion from Baxter’s chair shot is more than enough of a reminder.”

“That being said, I am still perplexed. I was fully expecting you to be absolutely apoplectic.”

“Yeah, not gonna lie? I thought you’d be pissed off about how tonight went down.”

“Why would I be?”

Cyrus leans against a nearby handrail next to a set of stairs leading out to the parking lot and out of the Sphere. He takes a deep breath, still suffering the effect of having not only the brutal loss to Jeremy Best, but the stress of competing in Carnal Contendership.

“Krash is back, boys. Yeah, I could be absolutely livid about tonight, and I probably am deep down. But, in the end? One of my friends has come back. How could I stay mad? Besides, I’m in the Golden Opportunity match, so it’s not as if this is the end of the journey back to the World Title.

“But…damn it to hell.”

Cyrus groans as his brow furrows and he leans back, trying desperately to stretch his back muscles to alleviate some of the punishment they took tonight. It’s another cold desert night in Las Vegas as Cyrus turns his gaze to the stars above.

“Competing in a cage match AND Carnal Contendership probably wasn’t my best idea. If I hadn’t lucked out with a late entry draw, tonight would’ve really sucked. But, The Road takes you wherever you’re supposed to go, even if you have to take a detour or seven to get there. And I’ll look forward to winning Golden Opportunity and using it to get a title shot against Krash when he puts an end to the Friendship Freaks’ nonsense once and for all.”

“Hmm…a lovely thought, but it seems a bit unlikely, if you ask me. You were in the ring with him, so perhaps you saw something I didn’t at commentary. But it appears that there were some…complications. Krash does not appear to be completely recovered from what that fiend did to him.”

“Didn’t expect him to be. I’ve been trying to reach out to him over the last year, but I haven’t really gotten any calls back from him.”

“Nor have I. Certainly, he defeated Best at Back in Business last year, but…”

“Don’t worry about it. Krash will pull through.”

Both Konchu and Richard are a bit stunned by Cyrus’s proclamation. The Exile turns and, seeing the confused faces of the commentator and referee, simply shrugs and smiles.

“I have faith. I know Krash. Best and his boys are screwed.”

Cyrus lets out a sigh. It’s a bit haggard, considering that Cyrus has basically competed in two full matches and likely suffered some severe trauma to his head thanks to Baxter and Best. But The Exile, at least for now, is not dwelling on that.

The main event of Back in Business won’t be his this year. At least, not for the World Title. But the World Title wasn’t completely out of his reach. And perhaps…

Perhaps an avenue to correct something that has long been allowed to fester and corrupt has presented itself.

“Hey, Cyrus? You sure you’re alright? You kind of zoned out there for a second.”

“Hmm?”

Cyrus, lost in his thoughts that are currently marinating in a soup of haze and pain, shakes his head to remove the cobwebs. He looks at Richard and Konchu and nods.

“Yeah, but I think I’m done for the evening. FWA’s booked a doctor’s appointment in the morning to make sure that I’m still going to be cleared for the upcoming shows and I ABSOLUTELY need to find a hot tub if I’m going to get any sleep tonight. Rich?”

The referee, a bit startled at being addressed again, looks at Cyrus with his full attention.

“Thanks again. I’d be happy to have you ref any of my matches. And…don’t worry about tonight. You did as good a job as anybody could’ve expected under the circumstances.

“Konchu? We’ll talk tomorrow. There’s some things we need to discuss.”

“Of course. Restful evening to you, Truth.”

“Belloc quaz, Varzos!”

“Thanks, Eps. See you all soon.”

Cyrus Truth is certainly exhausted. His head is screaming in pain, his legs are wobbling like jelly.

But, he still manages to walk away into the night under his own power. Perhaps not as champion, but certainly as a warrior king.

Left alone, Konchu watches as his friend, robbed yet again of the glory he’s worked so hard for, suffered so much for, disappear into the darkness to find succor and relief.

Richard Davis, for his part, seems both relieved and a bit perplexed by that whole exchange.

“I have to say, that man’s something else. Just about everybody else that’s ever walked down the ramp would’ve been calling for fucking blood.”

“And you don’t think he is?”

Richard turns to Konchu with that retort. The Mad Wizard, who never stops looking off in the direction that Cyrus has wandered off to, continues to speak to the FWA official.

“While I am content that Truth is not allowing his anger to control him as it has in the past, do not be mistaken in thinking that it isn’t there. I know Truth better than most. The Exile is a man who suffers such ignoble actions as were on display by our champion’s henchmen with a great, roiling rage. It will simmer. Perhaps even boil over and consume him. But woe be the poor unfortunate bastards who dare to stand against him.

“Recall, Mr. Davis…when Christopher Peacock stole the win in last year’s Back in Business main event? Truth burned his entire world down around him. Jeremy Best, regardless of whether Krash is the man to end his reign or not, will most certainly be no different. And personally? I can’t wait to watch the carnage that is to come.”

There’s several seconds of silence that seem like an eternity as the weight of The Mad Wizard’s summation weighs heavily. Richard eventually sighs as he shrugs.

“Cyrus Truth is a hard son of a bitch, isn’t he?”

“Harder than stone, Mr. Davis. Well, then. I should probably take my leave as well. Good night to you.”

“Yeah. You too.”

With a nod that is quickly reciprocated by the faithful minion, Konchu leads Epsilon away from Richard Davis, leaving the referee alone with just his thoughts, most of them focused on the exchange of words between him, the Mad Wizard, and The Exile.

Still suffering his own fair share of pain thanks to Baxter’s steel chair, Richard lets out a low groan and wince as he simply says:

“Things aren’t going to get any easier for me and the boys. Heh…the life of an FWA ref, I guess…”

*******


Five days after Carnal Contendership, our scene has changed from the glitz and glamor of a desert city where vices are readily catered to and dreams are regularly indulged and shattered in equal measure…to a beach somewhere on the East Coast. Far away from the tourist traps and hustle and bustle of revelers looking to soak in the sun and salt of the sea, there’s no white-bleached sand or vendors hocking tchotchke wares. This beach is rough and jagged, more stone than sand. This is a place not for sunbathing or surfing, but for contemplation.

A perfect place for a man like Cyrus Truth, having to find his center after a tumultuous Carnal Contendership.

The Exile sits on one of the larger rocks jutting out into the Atlantic, cross-legged on a spread-out towel, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks. The sun has begun to set as a noticeable breeze rolls through, making the late spring day turning to night a bit chillier than expected.

The hairs on Cyrus’s arms stand on end, the hair on his head flutters as the sound of waves crashing against the rocks provides the soundtrack for his meditation. The scars of countless battles are a roadmap on the body of The Vagabond King, an atlas of a journey that has forged this wayward soul into the warrior and champion he’s been in professional wrestling. A journey that’s been a crucible of fire, blood, and pain.

And pain is certainly evident from Cyrus’s expression. Despite the valiant attempts at calm and detachment from the physical, The Exile is still nursing quite a lot of pain from Carnal Contendership. The rigors of two highly-taxing matches along with the vicious chair shot that BARELY didn’t result in a full concussion are not so easily recovered from. Cyrus, using the meditative techniques he learned from his days as an Observer acolyte, can’t help but fidget, as stone makes for a poor seat when you’re covered in bruises.

Still, Cyrus sits in silence. There’s a great many things that the Carnal Contendership event had put into motion. Some that tangentially affect The Exile, like the main event rematch between Krash and Best for the World Title that Best’s flunkies denied Truth. Others that more directly and immediately require his attention, like the upcoming Golden Opportunity that Cyrus has once again qualified for.

But there’s a dangerous road between here and there. While the main event at Back in Business has been set in stone barring any truly horrendous complications, the remainder of the event is most certainly not. And every wrestler worth their salt will clamor over one another to earn, claim, or steal a marquee spot at FWA’s biggest event of the year.

This would be treacherous enough had The Exile had to concern himself with the folks on the roster that have been there. But Carnal Contendership, as it always does, has tempted a handful of wrestlers from the shadows of obscurity for a chance at ultimate glory.

Some, like Krash, are most welcome to have back. And their absence until the return? Understandable.

Others?

Well…

“WELL, FUCK YOU TOO! YOU UNGRATEFUL SON OF A BITCH!”

…Shit.

Cyrus is disciplined enough to not let physical pain or his own wandering thoughts break his concentration when he’s trying to meditate and find his center.

Outside distractions? Not as much. Nobody’s perfect.

Opening his eyes for the first time in many minutes, The Exile turns his head to the source of the outburst. Walking onto the beach with a cellphone in her hands is a woman with dark red hair and freckles, wearing a white dress with sunflowers on it.

She wouldn’t be too out of place for a trip out to the coast, but judging by the look of anger and frustration on her face, her visit isn’t predicated on a desire to relax and bask. And while Cyrus isn’t necessarily trying to eavesdrop on her conversation, her shouting makes it hard not to listen in.

“That bitch comes back into your life and you go crawling back to her? No, I don’t care if you think you love her. Oh…OH, you didn’t want to hurt me? Well, GOOD FUCKING JOB! Fuck off!”

The woman immediately hangs up on the call to whoever she was talking to and, clearly without thinking, throws the phone into the ocean. It takes a couple of seconds for her to realize what she’s done as she unleashes another storm of curses.

Eventually, the swearing ends as the woman, clearly exhausted and emotionally drained, simply drops as she sits on the beach, trying her best to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

Cyrus, for his part, isn’t quite sure what to make of all this. Certainly, he knows more or less what’s going on, but…is this really something he wants to get involved with?

…Yeah. Not because he cares about drama or any of that nonsense. But because, even in spite of all the ups and downs throughout his journey down the Long and Winding Road, he’s still the same punk kid that got exiled from the Observers.

Cyrus Truth is not a man who stands by and watches when he might be able to affect change in the world.

“Hey…miss? Are you all right?”

The sound of a stranger’s voice startles the young woman as she frantically breaks out of her wallowing misery to find the source. It only takes a second, as Cyrus is very clearly not hiding as he rises to his feet from the rock that he had been sitting on.

It takes her another second or two before she finally responds.

“W-what? Who are you?”

“Just a traveler, nothing more. My name’s Cyrus, if that helps.”

“Cyrus. Yeah. Right.”

“And I was wondering what was wrong. If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like you’re in a good place right now.”

The young woman’s fair skin turns a shade of red in embarrassment as she wipes her eyes, flicks of sand getting mixed up in the tears and sweat. Realizing she’s only making a larger mess, she frantically tries to find something to clean the grime off.

Cyrus, without saying a word, tosses his towel to the woman, mindfully not approaching her himself. As the towel lands at her feet, she’s still a bit hesitant to accept this stranger’s apparent act of kindness. However, she eventually grabs the towel and uses it to clean her face.

Somewhat mournfully, she laughs into it as she finishes wiping the sand and muck off.

“God damn it, I’m such a fucking mess. I must look absolutely pathetic, huh?”

“A little, yeah. But I doubt it’s not without a reason. Is it alright if I approach? I can stay here if that’s more comfortable for you, too.”

“No…no. It’s fine. Um…thank you, I guess. Cyrus, right?”

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

“Jess. My name’s Jess.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, Cyrus carefully climbs off the rock he had been meditating on. It does take him a bit of time, as while he’s in a lot better shape than he was after Carnal Contendership, he’s still in a fair bit of pain and soreness. After a couple of minutes, he approaches Jess and has a seat in the sand next to her, keeping a good foot of space between himself and her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable in the presence of a stranger.

“So…Jess? Do you want to talk about why you decided to throw your phone into the sea? If not, and you just want to sit here in silence or talk about something else, that’s fine, too.”

“You…you saw that?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. That’s embarassing. Well, how much did you hear?”

“A lot of expletives and you basically yelling at someone about some other woman? I can kind of put the pieces together, but it might help you to just unpack everything.”

“Why do you care?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Most would.”

“World’s a tough place. Why not help someone else on their own journey if you can?”

The sheer bluntness and sincerity in how Cyrus said surprises Jess, as it’s clear that she doesn’t fully know how to respond to that. Eventually, however, Jess’s wariness gives way to resignation as she wraps her arms around her knees and looks out into the ocean.

“...that was my boyfriend you heard me yelling at. My ex-boyfriend, I guess now. We’d been dating for…God, years now? I honestly thought that he’d be the one, you know? But…he never did propose. I suppose that should’ve been the first sign. I’m so stupid…”

“Hey. No. You’re already hurting, there’s no sense to keep beating yourself up. Just…keep talking.”

For the first time, Jess lets out a very, very faint grin at the empathy being shown to her by The Exile. The grin fades as she continues recanting her tale.

“The bastard’s former flame…some girl that he said was just a fling before he met me. She came back into his life, after being completely gone. Just ghosted him after they had been dating for some time, and she came strolling back into his life just the other day.

“He told me when we starting seeing one another that their relationship was toxic, that it was the best thing to happen when he and I started dating. But, that bitch comes back and he just starts simping on her like some damn puppy dog? What’s the point? Why bother giving your heart to someone when they’re just going to tear it out the second someone else comes waltzing back into the picture?”

Cyrus, taking a couple of seconds to mull over what Jess told him, lets out a sigh as he leans back into the sand, lying down and giving his back muscles a chance to relax.

“It’s rough. Not going to lie and tell you there’s an easy answer or a simple path forward. Believe or not, I get where you’re coming from. Not necessarily from a romantic side, but from…work."

“Work?”

“Yeah. I’ve been with the same company for eight years at this point. I’ve done pretty much everything I’ve been asked to do and have never really left for any reason. It’s more than I can say for a lot of my co-workers.

“So many of them arrived with a bunch of high hopes and aspirations. And management, well…management’s always been the type to buy into hype. It’s why so many people come and go. Because they know that if they leave and show up months or years after the fact? They’ll get a boost to their credibility, even if they may not deserve it. And those who stuck by the company through the good times and the bad? Well, at best, they’re set aside. At worst? Brass thinks they can use us to continue building the hype for the returning folk.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It really is.”

“What do you DO for a living?”

“Professional wrestler.”

Jess blinks, a bit surprised by the casual way that Cyrus answered her question.

“You’re a wrestler?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Why the hell would I lie about that?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just…you don’t really look like a professional wrestler. I mean, I don’t mean to be insulting or anything, it’s just…”

Cyrus cuts off Jess’s stammering with a slight chuckle, of which Jess seems a bit grateful. The Exile sits up, sand clinging to his back. He doesn’t seem to mind it, though.

“You’re not the first person to say as much. Even these days, where wrestlers come in all shapes and sizes, there’s still that stigma of muscle-bound meatheads using headlocks and clotheslines. But that’s not that important.

“The thing I’ve come to realize is that people always want to chase the wave, you know? Like my bosses, like your boyfriend…it’s all about the ebb and flow, the constant movement. That’s who this girl is that your ex left you for, and all the other wrestlers that show up after an extended absence where I work. Just waves. Transient, roiling ripples that could become a tidal wave, or just end up little more than a fleeting moment in a cavalcade of fleeting moments.”

“...Has anybody ever told you that you speak like a poet sometimes?”

That…actually gets to Cyrus, as The Exile is stunned by that interjection. Jess, for her part, is a bit concerned when she sees the strange look on Cyrus’s face, until Cyrus simply laughs it off.

“Yeah, old habits. My point is, so many people get infatuated with waves, when I’ve always preferred to be a rock.”

Cyrus points over to the rock he was sitting on before Jess. The sky has turned from blue to a medley of reds and oranges as the sun has begun to set. The waves, ever ebbing, lick at the shoreline and crash against the stone.

“It’s the nature of time that everything eventually comes to an end. It’s unavoidable. Even if you wish it didn’t. Even when it hurts when it does. Waves are…inconsistent. They come and go, but it’s rare that a single wave will ever make a major splash. Pun not intended on that, by the way.”

Jess chuckles at that. A lot of the angst and anger that she had been carrying since arriving here seems to have been muted, if not evaporated by this conversation.

“A rock is never going to be as exciting. It’s never going to get as much attention as a wave, or ever be appreciated for existing. And yeah…a rock will eventually be worn down over time and returned to dust and sand after enough has passed and enough waves have crashed against it.

“Thing is…one wave can never break stone. Wear it a little, yes. No avoiding that. But there’s not been a single wave strong enough to get the job done on its own. And before the stone eventually breaks? Countless waves will have been broken upon it and left as nothing but water in the vastness of an ocean."

“So…what you’re saying is…despite how much it hurts, it’s not the end of the world, right?”

Cyrus nods and smiles warmly.

“And more importantly, pain is something that’ll eventually fade. What someone else does shouldn’t matter when it comes to your own worth. Let the waves continue to roil for what little good they’ll do, I say. Ultimately, they’re just droplets of water in a vast ocean that they’ll inevitably return to. In the end, be the stone that rises above the water, the ever-present cornerstone that can be built upon that the waves break themselves upon.

“Disappointment and sorrow is part and parcel of being human. But what you do with that is entirely up to you. The only thing you have to decide is whether you let that sorrow be what you drown in, or whether you choose to be a stone and let the waves that think they can drag you down crash against you and return to the nothing they came from.”

It’s easy to tell that this was a conversation that Jess was not expecting to have, nor was meeting this stranger who has been kind and respectful for no reason other than just choosing to be. When she came to this beach, it was to run from her pain, her sorrow, and her rage.

But…this stranger, this wrestler is right. The re-emergence of someone who ran away, the decision of her ex-boyfriend to leave her for that bitch despite everything they’ve gone through together?

Fuck them both.

“...I think I understand. No…I DO understand. It’s about knowing your worth in the end. My life is mine to live, right? My choices, my actions, and what I let affect me are mine.”

“Pretty much.”

“Still doesn’t stop it from hurting.”

“No. It won’t. But pain is just pain. It doesn’t make you any more or less than what you choose to be.”

Jess lets out a deep breath, much of her pent-up anger and frustration leaving her as the air leaves her lungs. She scoots over closer to Cyrus as she asks:

“Hey…is it okay if I hug you?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Jess wraps her arms around Cyrus, and The Exile returns it. It’s not something Cyrus is particularly comfortable with, but he knows that it’s something that Jess needs. A reminder that the world will change and things will come and go, but that in the end? She’ll survive. And remain when so many other things pass by.

Jess releases her embrace as she stands up, dusting the sand off her sundress.

“Hey. What company do you wrestle for?”

“The Fantasy Wrestling Alliance. I compete on both of their regular shows.”

“I’m…not much of a wrestling fan, but…maybe I’ll tune in. Just to see you work.”

“Can’t promise I’ll win.”

“You will.”

Cyrus seems a bit surprised by that as Jess simply smiles.

“Because you won’t be broken by whatever the ocean throws at you. Right?”

The Exile lowers his head. One could assume that he’s doing it to hide his own blushing at his own words being returned to him by this stranger he just met, or maybe he’s trying really hard not to meet her gaze to let her know that she got to him. However, the laugh is still very audible.

“Ha, ha…yeah. Damn straight. Are you going to be alright, Jess?”

“Yeah. Maybe not today, but I will be. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’d…ask you for your number. Not for that, of course…I’m not ready to dive back into that sea. But you know…in case you needed to chat? Either way, kind of pointless considering…”

Jess sheepishly points to the ocean, where the consequences of her phone-throwing tantrum have finally really begun to sink in. Cyrus chuckles at that, a lighthearted amused laugh as he stands up to meet her eye-to-eye.

“Don’t worry about it. If we run across one another again, maybe then…”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Well…sorry for bothering you with my whole mess. But…thanks. Maybe see you around?”

Cyrus shrugs, but he nods.

You meet all sorts on the Long and Winding Road. Some are people who you travel with for a long time. Others are simply passing travelers you meet once. But every person you meet, interact with, share stories and beliefs with? All of them are important. Every single one.

For Jess, this was a chance encounter to put the world back into perspective. To understand that sorrow and pain need not define what her next steps will be.

And for Cyrus?

Well…

As Jess waves goodbye and heads further inland away from the beach and to whatever the next chapter of her story will be, Cyrus remains. Standing alone as the sun has sunk deeper and deeper into the horizon.

Night will fall soon. And much still needs to be done for the journey to Back in Business and beyond.

The first obstacle, the first wave is a wrestler with championship pedigree, but nothing else aside from vapid hype due to a return in the Carnal Contendership match.

Another wave that emerged from the vast void that it slunk to, that thinks it will be the one to change the landscape of FWA.

It’s nothing new to The Vagabond King. Just another wave doomed to crash upon the cornerstone of FWA, the man who has stood as a rock amidst the turbulent sea.

As Cyrus looks out upon the sea, and looks once more upon the rock he meditated upon…a decision is made.

Cyrus is still in pain. Some of it will fade. A bit of it won’t.

But Jeremy and his little band of misfits weren’t enough of a surge to shatter him.

Trevor Ocean?

He’ll be no different.

And maybe…Cyrus will do FWA a favor yet again. And make sure this new wave of a returning wrestler ends up shattered and broken before it inevitably ends up disappointing those who put too much faith in it.

Yeah…

It’s time to get back to work.