The first right hook from the small and annoying woman caught JC by surprise. He was surprised by the amount of power delivered from such a small frame, but then he was likely fatigued from the night before. Not that Elizabeth Blackwell was all that much of a challenge, but his body wasn't getting any younger. That was evidenced by the second shot to the back, another right hook. Sarah Lacklan didn't have a lot of ability, but she did know enough to use what worked.
The third shot caught him in the head and he saw stars. He blocked a fourth, but then a fifth caught him again. If this were a video game she'd be accused of spamming a move. And yet he still wouldn't go down. He was dazed and trying to calculate a way to turn things around when the shining wizard caught him. But not even that was enough to keep him down.
She quickly dropped him with a reverse DDT. He forced his body to kick out, in spite of the weakness and the pounding, growing headache. As he got to his feet, he was hit with another right hook, then another reverse DDT, and in spite of his best efforts, his body refused to kick out in time.
An few hours later, he sat in his hotel room in New Orleans wondering how the fuck this could have happened.
"I hate to be the one to say it, but it's probably because you're getting older, bro."
On the other line of the phone call was his brother Eric, better known to wrestling fans as GI. He was naturally concerned with JC, given the fact he's had concussion issues in the past and had taken several blows to the face and head. But while it managed to take him out of the WrestleStock Open, the only thing truly injured on "The Answer" was his pride.
"It just doesn't make sense. At one moment, everything's going my way and then suddenly, it's not. It's like the world saw I was getting a little too happy and ripped everything away."
"Well not everything."
"Professionally, everything."
Joe winced as he reached behind him to adjust the ice packs that were held to his spine with athletic tape. It wouldn't hold for long, but it was a good way to get ahead of the bruising that was sure to follow. As for his head, there was no hiding his swollen, but luckily not broken, jaw. He wouldn't be eating a lot for a few days but that was the least of his concerns.
"Look Joe, we've all had embarrassing losses before."
"It's not the loss itself that bothers me. I'm starting to wonder if I have anything left to give this business."
"Don't you have enough points for a Carnage World title match?"
"Yeah, but if I can't beat Sarah Lacklan, who's to say Melody Lennox can't take advantage of my failing body and win?"
There was a bit of silence on the phone now, as his brother contemplated this thought. Regardless of how well Joe did in UGWC, he still had a 12-5 record in Carnage and a match coming up that he'd wanted for years. Or maybe he was just being distant. Joe had noticed that a lot in the past few weeks. He was different, somehow, although JC couldn't put his finger on what. Maybe it was the tournament.
"Well I'm not sure how to help you, bro. I can't fight your battles for you."
"I'm not asking you to do that."
"All I know is that you're doing really well in Carnage and one loss doesn't mean retirement. If that were the case, I'd have stayed gone when Amber Ryan beat me."
"True."
JC adjusted himself in his bed, feeling the cold ice pack press into his back. The hardness was tough to deal with, but the coolness helped a lot with the blood surging into the area. It was definitely going to bruise, but at least the swelling could be brought down enough to allow him to sleep. Sleep was the only thing he was really craving at this point. He thought he might just sleep through the rest of WrestleStock and ignore whatever else was going on. It's not like he had to worry about Lucy losing to Kem Dynamo.
Lucy.
He felt a chill and was unsure if it was from the ice packs or his awakened feelings for his friend. It took nearly losing her completely, and a heart-to-heart with her girlfriend, for Joe to realize had any feelings at all. Of course the fact he learned that from her girlfriend was a pretty fucked up situation, as was the fact that Lucy had helped him repair his marriage.
Fucked up situation all around.
"Hello?"
He had almost forgot his brother was on the line.
"I'm still here. Just thinking."
"My best advice is to just stop thinking about it. Let it go. Focus on fighting Will in August."
"I half-expected a joke or something."
"I'm a little more serious these days."
"I've noticed. How is Kayla, anyway?"
"Things are going great. Speaking of...I've got to go. Take care, bro."
The phone beeped in his ear to let him know the call had ended on Eric's end. He was more serious lately. In the worst time of Joe's life he had wanted that for his brother, in some misguided attempt to help his career, but he later realized that was unnecessary. But now it seemed he was changing.
At any rate, Joe decided he wasn't going to interfere. He had more important things to worry about than his brother not having much of a sense of humor these days. He had wounds to lick, a loss to forget about and a match to prepare for.
He also had to figure out who he'd call next to update them on his health.
Initially, Joe had tried to call his wife Stacy. But she was an hour or more ahead, he couldn't recall what it was at the moment, and likely had gone to bed. All he got was an answering machine and he wasn't going to wake her. No sense in worrying her this late at night.
So he called his brother instead. And that didn't help. He decided to cut his losses and put the phone on charge. No helpful advice was coming tonight from anyone. No help at all, unless you counted the ice packs slowly melting against his warm skin.
He didn't bother to move. He had finally got into a semi-comfortable position and even with chunks of ice poking him in his makeshift ice pack (lovingly crafted with a Ziploc bag and chunks of ice from the hotel lobby), he dared not move. His mind was racing with thoughts of loss, his desired future being ripped from him and his ongoing, muddled romantic situation.
Anyone with a rational mind would just forget about Lucy and spend the rest of his days focusing on his very real wife and child. Even if he told Lucy about his feelings, what would it do? It'd alienate one of his best friends. It'd hurt her relationship. That's not even to say what it'd do to his own marriage once Stacy caught wind of it. Maybe CJ Wylde would resurface out of the ether and try to kill him just for the blasphemy of it.
As he thought of Lucy's hypothetically vengeful ex-husband (and ex-wrestler and ex-a lot of other things), he heard a rapping on his door. At first he thought it was his half-asleep brain turning a ridiculous fantasy into a half-dream reality, but then it happened again, and louder.
He groaned, louder than he intended, and rolled over onto his side. The pain was searing as it seemed the bruising was going to radiate through his entire back. He wondered if he'd be pissing blood in the morning.
Joe ran a hand through his hair and tightened the tape around his bare waist, making sure the ice packs were securely in place so they could do their job. For their sake, he hoped whoever was at his door was important. Although given his condition he could hardly think of who'd be important enough to deserve his time right now.
He opened the door and saw a downcast platinum blonde looking up at him. Lucy Wylde was at his hotel room, after he just spent some time contemplating how he felt about her. It was like a badly-written plot twist in some melodramatic story. And yet here she was anyway, looking as disinterested in generally everything as she had before.
"Lucy? What are you doing here?"
As he said this, he fought the urge to wince, as taking steps jarred the bruises on his back.
“Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay.”
She replied, watching him intently.
“Just bruised my pride. And my back. And my jaw.”
He grimaced a little, unable to really hide the pain he was in.
“Do you mind if I sit?”
“It’s your room.. You can do what you want.”
She said, stepping into the room as he moves towards a chair. She closed the door behind her and moved a little further into the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.
“As you can see, I’m fine. I’m not sure why you came over, you could have found out with a phone call. I know you’ve...got a lot on your mind.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“I mean, if you want me to leave, I will.. But you’re the one who found me earlier and I just figured I’d return the favor.”
He tilted his head at her, trying to make sense of what was going through her head. Yes, she had dealt with a lot of personal tragedy and misery over the past few weeks. So that would be the easy answer. But she also seemed to be pushing her friends and loved ones away for seemingly no reason. The very people that found her and cared for her. It didn’t make any sense. Why would someone push away the very people who could and would support them?
“Is everything okay with you? I mean, other than the obvious. You don’t seem like you’re very present.”
After a few seconds, she turned her head to look at him, the look in her eyes just as vacant as it were every other time he’s seen or spoken to her in recent memory.
“Okay as they can be, I guess.”
She rolled her shoulders and sighed.
“Been dealing with a few...consequences of my captivity I guess you could say.”
He wondered what he could do then figured it was probably nothing. All he could do was be there if she wanted to talk and not press the issue. It would be so easy, and it was so tempting, to just bare his soul to her right now and tear the band aid off. It would certainly quell the dull ache he felt when he saw her these days. But that wouldn’t help. If anything, it would close the door on everything, even friendship, forever.
It was best not to read anything into this other than she wanted to see how her friend was doing.
“Well, you’re welcome here. And you’re welcome to talk if you want. You have people that care.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She said, looking down at her hands. After a few seconds she looked up again at him.
“Do you need medicine or something? Ice? I mean I’m here to check on you, not to… Well… Nevermind.”
“Not to what? I’m not exactly a mind reader.”
Not to talk, not to have him worry about her? It seemed odd that she would be here solely to check on his health. As he said, a phone call could have sufficed.
“God knows what would happen if you were…”
She mumbled to herself, shaking her head.
“Not to talk about me. We did that earlier, remember?”
“Well, I did that. You just kind of sat there and listened. But I’m not going to press it. You’ll open up when you’re ready and not before.”
He adjusted the ice packs against his back, noticed they were starting to melt in the summer Louisiana heat and realized he’d have to remove them soon. The thought did not help his overall mood.
“But if you just need a friend, we can hang out. You could probably use the relaxation before you deal with Dynamo tomorrow.”
She sighed again, moving some of the hair out of her eyes.
“I’m fine.. I’m not much fun to be around anyway.”
“Okay, well what if I said I needed a friend. I mean, you did ask what I wanted. I could use some damn company since my old ass is sore. Literally.”
It was a little dangerous, offering a woman he had developed feelings for some time alone in his hotel room, but he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. And he didn’t much care anyway. She needed a friend whether she wanted to admit it or not. And he definitely did. It had been a very rough day.
“Unless you think your pal JC is a burden now.”
There was a playful tone to that statement, which was unfamiliar to him but he wanted her to know this was a friendly invitation. Her eyebrows raised and it almost appeared like her eyes softened a bit when she detected the playful tone of his voice. She rolled her eyes and chuckled softly.
“Furthest thing from, actually.”
“Well good. Have a seat. I think this place has at least HBO…”
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I've had to deal with a lot of hard truths lately.
Unexpected losses, conflicting emotions and doing things that I never wanted to do in a million years. All in service to one singular thought: I won't be able to keep this up forever.
Realistically, somewhere in the back of my mind, I already knew this was a possibility. No one lives forever, as Oingo Boingo once told us. But I figured that I had at least another decade, maybe longer, after I banished Drake Munday from the world of pro wrestling. I was given a new lease on life. I went and won the Carnage tag titles for a second time, then I looked to bide my time and take away Melody's title to make it mean something.
But then there were two specific incidents that led me to the conclusion, the hard truth, that my end is imminent.
First, my loss at WrestleStock. My own body failing me in spite of my spirit being perfectly willing to get back up and take more punishment if I needed it. I should not have lost that match. The record books should not say that a hack like Sarah Serena Grey Lacklan defeated JC. It's an aberration. It's the kind of fan fiction some loser on the internet would write as they world build a series of characters no one can relate to. It's junk. I did what a respectable person in our business would do and gave her credit, but it eats at me every day. It eats at me that she's piggybacking on her wife's earned win when neither of them would be where they are if I could have just kept my momentum going.
But you don't care about that.
What you care about is the second sign. The fact that Carnage Wresting's President, Jason Bridges, told me that if I didn't save him from a well-deserved ass-beating at Underground, I'd be forced to sit out my entire, five-year contract. Guess what? That's the rest of my career. You don't sit out of the game for five years and come back with the same skill you had. Not at my age and not with my frame. And I'd be 47 then. Jack Michaels, to his credit, can still do this at older, but Jack Michaels doesn't have a history of neck injuries and concussions, as well as moderate bipolar disorder.
No, I have those things. And I'm doing well at this point to still be able to walk.
You understand that Will. You understand perhaps better than anyone. You're the Walking Dead when it comes to wrestling. Jesse Williams retired you and then you came back to win the Carnage World title. You've said for at least a year or two that you're nearing your final match and yet you keep coming back. What has you coming back now? Is it me? Is the fact that I pulled Jason Bridges away from a crippling really enough to stop you from hanging it all up?
I don't think so. I think it's because you can't give it up. Your talk of retirement is bluster. We don't stay retired in this business Will unless our bodies refuse to let us continue. Even then, some of us still drag our old, broken-down asses back into that squared circle to compete at a fifth of the level we did before we should have quit. You're that kind of person. I know that because I'm the same way. We can't let this go. We can't say goodbye to something that has been our lifeblood for twenty years or more.
That's why I saved Bridges. Because soon my body isn't going to let me do this anymore. But when I have to go, I want it to be on my terms, not his. If that means denying you the right to hurt him, then I will. If he wanted me to attack you, I might have done that. Does that make me selfish? Probably. Do I care? No. I want to move forward in life, not sit stagnant because of the decisions made on a whim by one person.
So we've been thrown together in a match and the Carnage President probably hopes we take each other out. At the very least he hopes you're hurt, because I think he likes me better. He threatened to end my career with bureaucracy, but he's using me to try to end yours. Imagine how much he must not like you to put you against me. I'm in a foul mood and pure rules or not, you're going to feel this match. I have no intention of injuring you, but you'll definitely regret taking part.
When you're at this stage of our careers, you need every win you can get. I could go on and on about how I need to wipe my slate clean as I've never definitely beaten you but that's not it. I just want this win because I need it. I see that World title scene getting crowded and I need to get up there to cash in before I lose my chance.
I'm here to give you facts, like this one: Things in your life can going be great and then all of a sudden it'll stop on a dime. Likewise, things can be going poorly and good fortune will greet you from out of nowhere. But if there's one thing I know, it's that life is usually a mixed bag. Even if something good happens, there will be something bad to follow. And so on and so forth.
So hey, maybe your personal life will get better, but your professional life is about to get worse.
You're not going to stop me Will. You barely did it in OWF, you couldn't do it in NLW and you won't do it now.
Some things never change and now it's time for you to learn a few hard truths of your own.
