It would be hard to describe the number of emotions JC was currently experiencing, but the thing that currently overpowered them all was how sore he was. His body felt like he'd been in a car wreck and every single step sent a scream of pain through his nerves that cruelly reminded him of his age.
The worst of it was in his neck, as he compacted his head botching a move he never should have tried. He definitely had a kink in it and he was sure he had whiplash of some kind. Luckily, he could tell the difference between his neck being broken and straining the muscles, having experienced both in his career. He was sure that an examination at the hospital he would no doubt spend the night in would confirm his belief.
After months and months of doggedly pursuing Redemption, he had finally rid himself of his brother's assailant. Drake Munday's shadow would never darken a squared circle again, and JC had personally seen to making it happen. It was a good feeling to accomplish a goal, and rid wrestling of someone that had done nothing but make it worse. It was good to get revenge on behalf of his brother. Of course, there was that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, casting a cloud over everything.
What the hell was GI doing there? It was obvious to anyone with eyes why his brother showed up, but the man that told him not to seek vengeance was ready to toss his ideals aside to help ensure Drake Munday's expulsion from the wrestling business. But why he interfered after telling Joe not to seek revenge, that was the real question.
And it was a question that would have to wait for another time.
JC looked down at his phone, perhaps hoping the text he sent to his tag team partner would have went through. It did, and Trent saw it, but no reply. Perhaps Trent wasn't ready to jump back into being friends now that Redemption was out of the picture. Maybe he was just preparing for War Games. Either way, JC felt good about this win and he felt even better about helping his friend as he said he would. Trent was free of Redemption's servitude. Now they could go back to the way things were.
He pocketed the phone and began to move down the halls of the Royal Farms Arena, trying to remember where Trent Steel's locker room was. Was he with everyone else? That couldn't be. Trent was very antisocial. It was a wonder the two of them ever got along.
The door finally presented itself to him, slightly open and with a plain white label with Trent's name plastered on the steel frame. JC pushed it open, revealing his friend sitting in a chair and slowly applying tape to his wrists. He was also half-dressed.
"Ah shit. Is this a bad time?"
"Nope. Just getting ready for War Games. I've done all my homework already."
"I guess your match is over."
"Yeah..."
"I guess you won."
"You didn't watch."
"I was busy...sorry."
He moved over to a nearby table and began to rummage through his bag, looking for the rest of his ring attire. He pulled out some black fingerless gloves and set them aside before continuing, seemingly paying JC no mind. Joe noted in his head how cold Trent was acting, but figured he was just preparing mentally for his match in the main event. Still, it didn't hurt to ask.
"So, is this a match preparation thing or what?"
"What are you talking about?"
"This, 'hey let's pretend we're not tag partners and friends.'"
"Look, am I happy that you're still around? Yeah. I'm just not going to pretend ending someone's career is a good thing."
Joe stared incredulously at Trent, unable to decide if he was playing some sort of joke or if he was serious. With Trent, it was sometimes hard to tell.
"Okay we're going to have to back up a minute. This is REDEMPTION. Remember what he did to you? Your kids? Fuck's sake, he tried to have you cripple me!"
"I'm aware. Everything you said has played in my mind for months man. I know he was a bad dude. However, I'm also aware that Drake Munday also had a kid, and you took away his livelihood."
Joe started to say something, but Trent wouldn't let him get a word out.
"I'm not tryin' to make you look like a bad guy, Joe. I'm just saying why I'm not breaking out the fuckin' liquor."
"We're just going to have to agree to disagree on that one. Drake knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew the consequences."
"Hmm. If that's what you think, man."
Trent still appeared sullen, and Joe realized this was not just pre-match preparation. There was something about Redemption's career ending that genuinely upset him, and Joe couldn't figure out why. It felt strange, to be so good at reading people but unable to do so with someone like Trent. This wasn't the first time either. Trent's mental state was elusive unless he wanted you to know. The machinations of his mental process were invisible unless Trent wanted you to know the end result.
Joe thought this was just something he was able to pull when Joe himself was mentally unstable, but he'd since learned that Trent wasn't readable. His pages weren't empty, but written in invisible ink. That was just the way of things. That didn't change Joe's frustration with the fact.
"Okay so let's not celebrate Redemption's career ending. How about the fact that I'm still around? You're still around? The plan worked. Our careers are saved. The Rogues are back together."
He caught the faintest glimmer of a smirk on his tag partner's face before it vanished, and the cold, steely expression returned.
"Yeah, about that..."
"Look, we can talk about our future later. I know you got War Games in a bit. I just wanted to let you know the good news."
Trent looked up for a moment and stared at him, and to Joe he looked about ten years older than he was the moment he entered the room. It was as if something was weighing on him that he refused to divulge, and it was aging him prematurely. Joe dismissed it for one simple reason. Trent had been through hell in his first year of Carnage Wrestling. He was about to go through hell again for a cause he believed in. That was enough to weigh anyone down.
"Yeah, we can talk later. I should get ready for my match. I got five people to put in a hurt locker...haven't done that in a while."
Joe caught the reference. Trent gave him another faint smirk before going back to what he was doing.
Joe backed out of the room and let the door close behind him. He then heard Trent moving some things around before starting to speak. He thought about going in to see what was up, but decided against it. Either way, the elation he felt about his win was gone, and he now felt every single bit of the pain that he received battling the former Redemption.
He looked down at the black and red mask clutched in his hand, which he had almost forgotten about. It was his trophy, and while he tried to hand it back to the man as a parting gift, it was ultimately denied. Now it would be proudly displayed in his trophy room along with a shattered OWF World title and various other replicas of belts he won over the years.
He began to wonder his thirst for vengeance was even worth it.
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December 11, 2017
As it turned out, 'later' ended up being never, at least in the last two weeks since Carnage Wrestling's Ultimate Carnage event. At first, Joe chalked it up to the fact that Trent Steel, as expected, went through hell in War Games. He was part of a dysfunctional team that didn't have his back even though Trent was there for them. It angered Joe as he was watching, to see Will lose his senses and attack the Kid like that.
Now the Kid was gone, Will was in the main event of Act of Defiance and Trent was cast aside. That didn't sit well with JC. It didn't sit well at all. He couldn't blame Kyra, as she didn't run the place anymore. He couldn't even really blame Jason Bridges, as from what he gathered, Bridges was more focused on his petty squabbles than really running the show these days. There wasn't anyone he could blame, but there was something he could do.
As it turned out, JC had acquired a fair number of contendership points since his Carnage debut, and he had yet to spend a single one. He hadn't even been paying attention to things like championships during his six month pursuit of Redemption, but it seemed only fitting that he would now use the points he earned from those wins to really reward himself.
So decided to not only give himself a title shot, but his friend as well. He went to the ring and confronted Paragon, the team that many have pegged to be the next champions, and let them know that they've got one hell of a second obstacle in the way at Act of Defiance.
He came through the curtain now, pretty pleased with himself. The first face he saw was not one he expected.
"Hey, JC."
"Lucas, what are you doing here? Didn't you get fired?"
Lucas Silva, whom he guessed was now the former Sandtown Kid, looked weird standing there in his old street clothes. He also seemed incredibly depressed, as if he just had his entire life stripped from him. He of course, did, but there wasn't anything that JC could really do about that at the moment. He liked the kid well enough, even if he was quick to judge, not exactly bright and very headstrong. He supposed, in a way, everyone liked Silva somewhat, even if they refused to admit it.
"Not fired. I just can't wrestle anymore."
"Yeah that's...that's not right. Is there anything...?"
"No, don't even say it. You're one of the only people here that butt-trumpet Bridges isn't trying to hurt. I don't want you getting in the middle of it. I'll do the job I'm supposed to do."
"That's surprisingly noble of you, Kid. But I'm not afraid of that pencil-pusher. He's not even a .10 on the Chase Johnson scale."
Silva looked at him with a confused expression on his face, his eyes on the verge of glazing over.
"I'm begging you to cash a paycheck and watch my stuff on the Network. At this point I'm starting to feel old."
"But...you are old."
"Well maybe compared to you, but you're an infant."
"Anyway, I just wanted to say I saw what you said about the PPV. I hope you kick C.O.N.'s asses. They deserve it for what they did to Kyra. Paragon too."
"Well yeah, I plan to, but it's not so much about them as..."
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?"
A voice bellowed down the hallway and at first, JC assumed that Bridges was coming to chastise Silva for not cleaning the floors or whatever menial task he had planned for him. But no, that bellow came from the lungs of Trent Steel, which was surprising considering how much the man smoked a day. It was also surprising that Trent was angry, and approaching him like he wanted to fight.
"You'd better get out of here, Kid. I don't think Trent's too happy."
"Right. Consider me gone."
Silva quickly moved out of JC's peripheral vision, and the closer his tag team partner got, the quicker the Sandtown Kid likewise exited his thoughts. Trent's face was red, and while he wasn't set to compete tonight, he was in his ring attire for some reason. Perhaps he was looking for a fight.
"Trent. About time we got to talk."
"Save it. What the hell was that?"
"Do you mean talking with the Kid or..."
"I don't give two flying clusterfucks who the fuck you talk to on your own god damn time ya jackass. Stop the shit. You KNOW what I fucking mean, Joe."
Trent ripped his black Oakley brand sunglasses from his face and glared at Joe, for reasons JC could not wrap his head around. He didn't expect anger of any kind for essentially giving Trent a free title match and a featured bout at the next PPV. Joe didn't exactly expect gratitude either, Trent wasn't the type, but anger was definitely bizarre.
"Yeah, and who said I wanted one?"
"I thought..."
"You DIDN'T think, and you didn't even ask. You don't think I've got enough points to get a title match? I've got enough to challenge for the tag titles twice and still kick Amy Jo's ass for the World. This has always been your fucking problem man. You never think about what you're doing before you fucking do it!"
"How the fuck am I supposed to ask? You've been a fucking ghost since I won that match at the PPV."
"Yeah, and what does that tell you?"
"That you're an asshole."
"ME! An Asshole??!!! Allow me to introduce my fucking self. I'm Trent Steel...OF COURSE I'M A FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
The two stood in silence for a moment as Trent pulled out a cigarette and stuffed it into his mouth. He lit a single match with his thumb and forefinger, using the nail to strike the head like it was nothing. He took a long drag and breathed it out as a sigh.
"Look, Trent. I don't understand what the problem is. Yeah, I went behind your back, but it's a chance to get back our tag team titles. Titles we shouldn't have lost to begin with. What's the problem with you teaming with me? You worried about my injuries? My mental health? What is it Trent?"
"If I team with you, I'm going to end up hurting you again. It's easier to just go solo."
Joe looked at him for a moment and simply watched him as he calmly took another hit from his cigarette. For someone that was usually hard to read, Trent was suddenly very transparent. Everything from the moment Joe beat Redemption to right now suddenly clicked into place. It all made so much sense that Joe spat out his solution without the slightest concern for tact.
"That's what this is all about. You're feeling guilty."
He thought the accusation, which was pretty obvious in hindsight, might upset him again. Instead he simply shook his head and crushed his half-finished cigarette against the wall, leaving a dark smudge on the white paint.
"It's not just that."
"It's the only thing that makes sense to me."
"Do you not remember what happened in October? When I tried to break your back?"
"Under Redemption's orders."
"Yeah, but part of me liked it. Part of me wanted to do it. I don't think I'm good for anyone, Joe. Scratch that. I know I'm not. I've all but lost my kids, hardly anyone in this place respects me and you...I attacked one of my only friends for no reason other than some nutjob with a mask wanted me to. Why? Because my sense of honor said to do it because I lost the match. If that's all it takes to set me off this time, what's it going to take next time?"
The anger behind Trent's weary gaze showed signs of returning, but instead it stayed there in the dark, waiting for when its owner really needed it.
"You have no fucking way of knowing that. At least you had an excuse for what you did. I'm just normal, Joe. I'm fucked up, but I'm normal. No mental illness in my head. It's all me. I've just about lost everything that matters and it's all me. I don't want to ruin what good you've done with your life anymore Joe."
"Look, whether or not you wanted to do it or not, that doesn't matter to me, man. I told you that when I put my job on the line. You are a good man. You saved my life. You saved my sanity. You beating the shit out of me may have hurt, but I don't believe for a second that's who you really are."
"Yeah. I did one good thing. Tell me...how do you think I fucking feel every time I look at Dude JoB? Or how I feel when I look at Jason Blood? I've hurt or caused pain for everyone I've ever cared about. It's why it's best for me to be alone Joe. I did the War Games because someone finally believed me besides you...but I don't believe me anymore. I don't see things the way everyone else does. All I want to do is hurt people because I'm hurt. The truth is Joe I'm never going to be alright and I'm always going to be a liability."
Joe sighed now, realizing exactly where this conversation was headed. They had something similar whenever it was Joe who hurt Trent in 2016. Was this the nature of their relationship? Always apologizing because neither was stable enough to be a normal friend? Joe was fiercely loyal, but he wondered if perhaps he was also a little stupid.
"I don't care if you're a liability or not, you're my friend and I'm not abandoning you."
Trent was visibly shaking now. As if his emotions were starting to slip from his control and he didn't know what to do about it.
"I don't deserve that, but thank you. I gotta go...I just gotta go. I'll see you next week."
Without another word, Trent immediately spun on his heels and walked away, not even giving JC a chance to reply. It was too solemn a moment to end their conversation on. He didn't like it, but perhaps Trent walking away said more about him than he wanted to let on. After all, he could have exploded again. He could have tried to sever their friendship for good. But he didn't.
With that silver lining shining in his thoughts, Joe felt a glimmer of a smile creep up on his lips.
Maybe there was hope.
Maybe there was hope.
It feels good to be free.
I don't know if I said this or not, but let me say it now. The tag team division's been kind of a mess since last year but The Rogues are here to fix the damage and reclaim what's rightfully ours.
Of course, I say that knowing the landscape has completely changed. I might as well have been out for an entire year considering how detached I was from the rest of Carnage for the past six months. Even the match I had with Brian Crucifix was tainted by the stink of Redemption. There was just nothing about my life for that time period that didn't get ruined by him.
But I'm back now. I'm here full-time, and I'm ready to kick people in the face, take their titles and show that I'm still the best. To help prove that I've once again acquired the services of the only partner in crime I need, Trent Steel. Both teams should be intimately familiar with him, given how much you've tried to fuck him over and how much he keeps coming back to make you regret it.
Both of these teams are remarkable in just how much like The Rogues they really are. Everything that CON is doing and everything that Paragon is hoping to achieve, we've been there first.
The truth is, I don't even know where to start with these teams. You have the overachievers in Crucifix and Zodiac, who are admirable in their ambition but predictable in their methods of obtaining what they want. The thing is, I see what just about every other person on the roster sees, at least if they have working eyes. C.O.N. doesn't need to cheat. They want to. The problem is they've been using underhanded tactics as a crutch for so long it's going to hurt them.
"But Joe," you might say. "The Rogues did some pretty bad stuff."
You're damn right we did. We left scars on promotions that will never heal, no matter how many times they try to come back. I'm not proud of what I did anymore, but I use it as an example. We hurt people and we occasionally took shortcuts, but when it came down to it, we were dominant.
That's a word that CON should be familiar with but they're not. They're too busy trying desperately to cling to the only thing that tells the world they are somebody. The only thing keeping them from getting lost in the shuffle again. The only thing says they matter. Because otherwise, they don't. They know that and so do the rest of us.
Then there's Paragon. Oh boy, what can I even say about Paragon? They want to change the business because there's just something about what it's become that doesn't sit right with them. You might say they're the answer to everything that ails it. You might say they're ready to cut the cancer out.
That sounds so familiar I wonder if I should consult my attorney.
I'd tell them that their holy war isn't going to turn out how they want, but I'll let them finish that story themselves. Or they can watch the OWF attempt to resurrect itself again in spite of my very best efforts to make it a distant memory. You can't change anything without destruction, and you have to bring a hell of a lot of destruction. I don't think a tiny boxer and an old horse ready to become glue are the team to do that.
Paragon gets the match in Las Vegas. CON gets a match with no rules, which benefits them. Everyone gets what they want but that won't stop me from attaining my goal.
I took the very best Redemption had and I ended his career. I suffered a concussion that should have ended mine and I'm back fighting. I don't want to say I'm taking my opponents lightly, but compared to what I've overcome, what can they possibly hope to do to survive my onslaught?
The Rogues have been tag team champions everywhere we've been. This time last year, we were the champions of Carnage. We are the dominant force in tag team wrestling and it's long past due for us to be recognized as such.
Bring your weapons, bring your home field advantage. We'll take everything you've got, and then we'll take those tag team titles too.
