If anyone asked JC to describe the weirdest thing to happen to him in wrestling, he might have said his relationship with Lucy Wylde.
A year ago, JC and Lucy didn't even know each other. Upon JC's return to the OWF, they were at each other's throats. By the time the OWF closed, they were allies and friends. Lucy was there at Christmas when he announced that he would be a father. They had a kinship that he couldn't explain, as if they had known each other longer than they had. Maybe it was just because they were more alike than either would be willing to admit.
The two were currently inside JC's basement, sparring before their upcoming Synergy tag team match. This was the first time they had had any training of the kind together and outside of some initial awkwardness, it was going rather well. JC had paid much attention to the fact that Lucy's kicks were beginning to land a little harder than a simple sparring session, as he was simply focusing on the task at hand.
It's not just that the kicks were harder, but they were far less precise than she's known for. Kicks meant to hit his hand were veering off and connecting with his elbow. High kicks were going low. What was worse, is that every time she made a mistake, she got frustrated and threw an even worse kick. JC tried to roll with it.
"Ease up, Luce. You're hitting everything but the target."
"Don't."
Another kick, this time catching him in the point of the elbow.
"Tell me."
He took a step back, but this time a kick caught him in the shin. It was clear she wasn't even trying for his hands as part of the sparring session anymore.
"How."
Another kick aimed at his hip, he got his hand down in time to avoid it.
"To."
Another kick grazed his ribs.
"KICK!"
She threw another kick high and JC's reflexes, a bit slow on the draw dealing from the other glancing blows, are unable to deflect it. The point of her boot connected with his mouth flush, shooting searing pain through his face and opening up his bottom lip. He dropped to a knee and placed two fingers to the source of the throbbing. The blood began to flow freely, with droplets hitting the mat.
Lucy, to her credit, immediately stopped throwing kicks when she realized what she did. It was a like a switch turned off and she reverted back to who she was before they decided to start training. She ran her hands through her hair in frustration, pulling a bit before kneeling next to JC to check on him.
"I think we're done with the sparring for today."
"Shit, Joe. I'm so fucking sorry. Are you okay?"
He went to the turnbuckle and grabbed a towel he placed there, applying it to his lip to stop the flow of blood. He was slightly amazed at just how much he was bleeding from a busted lip. He was also irritated with Lucy, as she had been distracted the entire time they were training but agreed to do it anyway. It put him in danger for things like this, even if they had been going at half-speed for most of it.
"I'm fine. It's not the first time I've bled."
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry. Really. I did not mean to do that."
"I'd hate to see what you do when you mean it."
He instinctively rubbed his jaw, remembering the punt he received back in the spring of last year when she did intend to hurt him. He glanced down at the towel and noticed the bright red stain that was about the size of his fist. The flow was slowing some, but he re-applied to towel to make sure.
Glancing at Lucy, he noticed her lower her head a bit, clearly upset with herself. He decided his jab was too soon and worked quickly to rectify the situation.
"Look, I'm fine. My lip will swell for a couple of days and Stacy's going to be frustrated with me, but I'll live."
"It still shouldn't have happened."
"Well, you're not wrong."
She moved to the ropes and stepped through, taking a seat on the apron. JC, still holding the towel to his bottom lip, walked over to where she was and leaned on the top rope. It was clear that something was troubling her, but he wasn't sure if he should pry. Not only because it wasn't his business, but because the two had been surprisingly open since becoming friends and he didn't want to exploit that.
He glanced at the towel again, and satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, tossed the towel toward a nearby trash can. He was dismayed when it only caught the edge and hung there, a crimson flag mocking him in the distance.
JC, feeling slightly sore from the other blows he took, stepped through the ropes and joined Lucy on the apron. She was stewing, a mix of whatever was bothering her and the fact she just assaulted her friend for no reason. He decided to gently approach the topic anyway. Allowing her to vent would not only make her feel better, but it would help her to focus. The last thing he wanted heading into his second Synergy match was a partner who wasn't focused.
"This can't be because of what that asshole Killian said."
"Part of it is. The OWF closing is still a sore spot, and to say that we 'broke it'? It pisses me off."
"Surely not enough to throw you off your game like this."
"No."
They sat in silence for a minute. JC wasn't sure how to press the issue and he thought she might have been trying to figure out the best way to approach it herself. She was visibly seething with anger, frustration and a touch of sadness. JC recognized it because he felt it when he was at his worst, mentally. There was a time when he was trapped inside of his own mind, merely a slave to whatever he felt at the time. He still has his bad periods, but his medication controlled his illness so he could could his emotions.
Not everyone had their luxury. Lucy was one of those who didn't bother hiding how she felt. If she had a problem with you, she'd let you know. If she was upset, she wasn't good at hiding it. Joe's busted lip was the latest testament to that sentiment.
"So what's going on? I don't want to pry, but..."
"But you care."
"Yes. I also need you 100% for Monday."
It was blunt, but she needed to hear it. There was a bigger world out there, after all, and tag partners depend on each other to get the match won.
"You're right. You don't need me flying off the handle and costing us a match. Okay."
She took a deep breath and continued.
"I'm sure you've heard about CJ at this point."
"I know bits and pieces. I know Angel and Redemption did a number on him and I know he rushed himself back before he was ready."
"That's not all of it. Those bastards almost killed him."
"Killed him?"
He knew Angel and Redemption to be dark, depraved individuals but didn't think they'd bother devoting energy to murder. Of course he never knew Angel and he only ever knew Redemption's alter ego Drake Munday back when he was a rookie. Things were different now.
He felt pangs of guilt for being one of the forces to train Drake back when he was doing terrible things himself. He ignored them to focus on his friend's dilemma.
"Yes. He was clinging to life for a while there. And that was only a couple of months ago. Realistically, he shouldn't have even been at your house on Christmas. He wanted to keep up appearances because he planned on getting back in the ring."
"I'm guessing what happened at Synergy didn't exactly make things better."
"Not at all. He's still injured, Joe. He's still fucked up and he still wants to get out there. It's like he's not taking anything I say into account."
He noticed her eyes tearing up and one single tear stream down her face. It added some weight to what she said next.
"I don't think he'll be happy unless he dies in that ring."
Joe gave this considerable thought. He didn't have any great love for CJ Wylde as a human being. Although the two were cordial to each other these days, they would likely be friends. However, he felt that Lucy was a little quick to judge. He understood, because she loved her husband. He would take a bullet for his wife Stacy, so he knew what she was feeling.
However, he felt she was letting her feelings blind her to CJ's perspective. In a feeling that was otherwise alien to him, he understood CJ's point of view and felt like he should at least explain him, if not defend him.
JC dropped from the ring apron and looked at Lucy.
"Can I show you something?"
She wiped her eyes and looked at him, puzzled.
"I...guess?"
"Okay, just don't take this the wrong way."
He removed his tanktop and tossed it aside, then turned his back to her and knelt on the ground so she could get a better look. He pointed a single finger at the exact spot on his neck she should be looking at. He had seen it several times to know every ridge, every contour, every line of the nasty surgery scary that took up residence on the back of his neck.
"I'm sure you know when I got that."
"I think you said it was about a decade ago?"
"A little over, yeah."
He stood back up with his tanktop in his hands, then put it back on as he continued.
"Herniated C5 and C6 discs. Cervical spinal stenosis. Numbness and tingling in my arms and legs, legs that didn't want to move, the works. I came closer to putting myself in a wheelchair than I'd like to admit."
"Shit..."
"Doctors told me before and after the surgery to hang it up. Physical therapists told me to hang it up. I went through a year of hell just waiting for my spine to properly align. I had to re-learn how to move, walk, everything, just to prevent one wrong move from ruining the surgery. The entire time, every single moment, was focused on what would eventually be June 9, 2008."
Lucy was quick to put it together.
"The day you returned to the ring."
He nodded solemnly and continued.
"Lucy, you're a wrestler, so I know you have a passion for this business like I do. Like CJ does. But you've never been seriously injured, have you?"
"Not like that, no."
"Maybe it's a sickness, maybe it's dedication, I don't know. But the most dedicated of us think about nothing but stepping into that ring. Oh sure, we have room for other interests and other people in our lives, and we love all of that as well. But wrestling is our passion. So I was almost paralyzed. CJ almost died. That doesn't matter to people like us."
"Yeah but he's rushing himself back after a couple of months! You took a couple of years! That's a huge difference."
"I agree. He should be sitting at home letting himself heal. He's risking the loss of everything he's forcing himself back to achieve. I'm just trying to put this into perspective for you. So should he be at home? Yeah, he probably should. But CJ's not stupid, he knows his limits. You've got to trust him when it comes to what he does in the ring."
He wasn't used to being in the experienced, elder statesman role but he was pulling that card now. After all, he had been wrestling for seventeen years and Lucy had been in the game for half of that. If he couldn't use his experience to help out a friend, what good was it?
"Think about if the roles were reversed. You wouldn't want him holding you back."
She considered this, and more than just in a perfunctory way. She thought about it as if she had been given some great truth instead of one weary veteran's words of wisdom.
"No, you're right. I wouldn't. Thank you, Joe."
"It's not a problem. Anything I can do to help.
She rolled back into the ring and stood up. She smirked as she slowly entered a fighting stance.
"Now...what do you say I give you a chance to repay me for that busted lip?"
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It looks like I didn't miss a lot. I got booked against former three-time world champion Jet Somers. He's a talented guy, which is obvious from the fact he's a former champ. I suppose I'll find out for myself when we tangle at Synergy, before we fight again a week later. UGWC's certainly keeping me on my toes lately.
When I went to Carnage Wrestling, I was immediately welcomed. Now that I'm here in UGWC I notice the hesitation in really accepting me. I'm not "one of you", whatever that means. It's not the first time this has happened to me. It won't be the last, as I'm sure eventually I'll depart this place and try my hand elsewhere. That's what wrestlers like myself do. We go to a fed, we prove ourselves then we go somewhere else to do the same.
I was labeled the "hottest free agent in wrestling" upon my arrival and given Jet Somers as an opponent. That's fine. I like the silly moniker although that would seem to imply I had a cooling off period. I've always been at the top of my game in that ring. That's a problem for you Jet, because that means you're going to try your hand at toppling me and you're going to fail twice in two weeks. That's not arrogance, that's just reality. It's harsh and it's not what we want it to be. You're going to fly around and I'm going to boot you down to the ground.
Let me just make this clear. I appreciate the respect. I appreciate the wishes of good luck. I'd return the favor but I feel like it's a little facetious. We don't actually want our opponents to have any kind of luck. Luck is for chumps that can't rely on their own abilities. I've been beating people for the past seventeen years on a hell of a lot more than luck. You certainly didn't need luck when winning your multiple championships, I'm sure. Let's not wish each other luck because we're better than that.
I've got another thing to wish to show I have respect for your abilities. Give me your best. Don't come into either one of these matches and half-ass it. The worst thing you can do to be disrespectful to an opponent is to not show up. I'm out there to prove my best, so if I don't beat you at yours, it's an empty, hollow victory. If you have any kind of respect for me, prove it by putting effort into trying to beat me. Make me earn every thing I take. After all, I'm the outsider right? Fight me like you're defending your home from me.
I deserve nothing less than the Jet Somers who won a world title as my opponent.
Respect is a funny thing.
You see, Somers tried to be respectful and misunderstood my harmless pre-game talk as insults. What I said on Twitter about your poor luck for facing myself and Lucy? That's just friendly trash talk between future opponents.
There's a difference between that and what this asshole Killian King said.
I'm not so much mad that you mocked Lucy and I for the end of the OWF. You'd think I would be considering I'm the last OWF World champion, but I'm not. It's going to take a hell of lot more than potshots at the demise of my last organization to get me angered. Six months ago I was trying to bring about the very result that we got so you can't really phase me with the "oh they broke their home" shit.
It's not the disrespect that bothers me, but the blatant ignorance. The stupid, ignorant potshots as if we're some run-of-the-mill opponents. Like you aren't staring at the two people who are going to ruin your fucking banquet. Do me a favor, Killian, throw on a tape of anything I've done in my career and see just what kind of opponent you have. I'm not just any opponent, I'm the opponent. I'm the kind of guy most fighters train their whole lives to face and then they still can't get the job done.
Lucy Wylde? There's a good chance she's better than I am. There's an even better chance she uses those same words against me if we face in the ring, but it's true. At the very least she'll be in this business long after I've hung up my boots, winning championships and punting punks like you into oblivion.
As a team, I don't know how good we might be. The only thing I know is that the last time the two of us teamed up, I broke Jesse Williams within minutes and she outlasted two former world champions to win the match. That match, by the way, was before we really trusted each other and became the friends we are today.
But go ahead Killian, underestimate the grave fucking consequences coming your way. Keep taking your little jabs. I'm a seasoned vet. I'm going to ignore them and then drop you in that ring. If Somers wants to try his hand, he can get the same result. After all, he later joined the party in taking potshots.
There's something you two don't seem to understand yet. I'm not in the UGWC to be an outsider. I'm here to be the best.
That means the only thing getting broken is your face.
