Nothing at all…

4.3

Parked outside of the house I spent the better part of my life in, I stare at it through the tinted windows of Briggs’ unmarked chromed out black SUV. I see the brick exterior, with the white columns that always made me think of Zeus’ home high upon Mt. Olympus. Now they just look a little dirty, smudges of black and only God knows what encircling them. The front door looks like it has been replaced, which kind of bums me out a little bit because I used to love the sound of it when I would run in and out of the house. I finally look away, trying to ignore my mind’s attempts to take a trip down memory lane and I let out a sigh, “Do I really have to do this?”

I notice out of the corner of my eye as Briggs turns in the driver’s seat to face the backseat, where Kyle sits. I follow my question up with, “Do you have to look at him for permission, Briggs? I mean, I thought this was your operation. Did I miss something here?”

Briggs then turns to me, “It is my operation, James. The reason Kyle is here, is not only to keep your family safe, but to figure out who the mole is that’s working for Sanders. No one really knows he is here other than you and I. But he has a plan and I am not going to bullshit you, James. I like his plan and I agree with it, so yes…you’re going to have to go in there and talk with your family. I want them safe. Kyle wants them safe and I have no doubt in my mind that you want them safe. You are going to have to go in there and explain to them what is going on before we move them.”

I turn and face Briggs, who stares back at me through those sunglasses you always see the cops or FBI agents wearing the movies. I scoff, “Move them? You’re going to move them? Where you going to move them? To Canada? How about moving them to the middle of the fucking desert? I mean, that would be the best option. Maybe we should just go in and put a bullet in between Sanders’ eyes. That seems like it could be the best answer to all of our problems, but then again, that’s not of my business.”

Kyle decides to pipe up, “You think killing Sanders is the right thing to do? Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t, but either way…that would be the least of your worries. If Sanders dies, there will be someone else to step into his place. The son of a bitch could be twenty times worse than him. We need to keep Sanders alive and we need to arrest him before getting any and all intel that we can from him so we can destroy the entire pipeline.”

I roll my eyes as I turn in my seat and look at Kyle, his military haircut and his bushy beard stare back at me. He is all soldier. He is definitely by the book. Our eyes lock as I reply, “So the truth finally comes out. You’re not here to keep them safe. You are worried more about this stupid pipeline. You are worried about saving face and looking like the good guy that brought the big bad drug dealers to justice,” I then turn to Briggs, “And the same goes for you. That is all you guys want. You told me that you were going to get me out of this shit hole since Sanders has a rat on the inside, that my cover had been blown and yet…here I am…stuck in this bullshit because I am nothing more than a pawn for the law.”

I watch as Kyle leans forward, resting his chin on both his hands as we lock eyes yet again, “You know, James, you do an awful lot of bitching. We’ve been here for a little too long waiting for you to go talk to your family. I do want them safe because it’s unfair that you and your father put them in this situation. But I also want Sanders. I want all of those motherfuckers behind bars, because I am sick of them destroying this country that I swore to protect, with their bullshit, with their disease and filth. I have to fight every day for my wife, my daughter, and my son. I have to keep them safe, so yeah if you want to consider yourself a pawn in the grand scheme of things then by all means. Go for it. Knock yourself out. But I have bigger problems just as Briggs has bigger problems than you and Sanders. You and Sanders are just the beginning.”

I go to say something but I don’t. I just release as a sigh as I look at Kyle, one of my friends, my best friends and I realize that things will never be the same. We will always be on different sides of the track. We both come from wealth, but he went on and did something good with his life, while I end up in situations like my current one. He and I are more than likely destined to do this for the rest of our lives, I tell myself before turning and looking at Briggs. Briggs told me he wanted to get me away from Sanders and I was a fool to think he was sincere. He wants justice. He wants it to all be over. The thing that gets me is that I want the same thing, but I guess that I need to realize that it isn’t about what I want or need. It seems to always be about everyone else around me.

I turn away from them and stare back at the house, as my mind conjures up old memories. I see myself at the age of nine, riding my bicycle through the yard and over the gravel rocks. I see myself in the backyard, with my dad as he is talking to me about guns and why I needed to know how to shoot. I remember being so afraid. I see myself getting in the car with my dad, telling my mom goodbye as dad said we were going on a trip for a few days. My mother was like all of the rest. She didn’t want to acknowledge what my father’s trips consisted of, but she knew. Everyone has always known, but no one asked questions. My brother and sister, Logan and Holly, didn’t know what was going on until around their fifteenth birthday. It became apparent to them what was going on. I was doing nothing but trying to avoid it and pretend like the truth wasn’t there. But in the end, it consumed me and turned me against my family. The truth is why my mother kicked me out of the house I am preparing to step into for the first time in years.

It was Christmas that year. I snapped on my Logan and Holly as everyone praised them. I hated it. My mother saw that I was drunk and that I would more than likely continue down that slippery slope that my father had been building for me ever since I was born. I was saddened when she told me to leave, but in the end, I knew it was going to happen. It was one of those things that always seemed to happen to me in my life. I would get somewhere with my father and we would settle. I would find and feel love. Love that I never truly received from him, and then it would be ripped away from me because of something he had done. There was no shock. It came as no surprise. I let out a soft chuckle as I make my way through the front yard, feeling like my heart is preparing to explode like an atom bomb, right out of my fucking chest, as I edge closer and closer to the front porch, where my mother and I would sit and talk until I fell asleep in her loving arms. I remember how safe I felt there, in her arms, as she would kiss me on the top of my head, telling me how much she loved me, how thankful she was that I had come into her life, and that she was proud to call me her son.

I have been here before, I tell myself. I don’t mean in this home. I mean in this situation. My father had many women in his life, many families, but I have always been the one constant.

I reach the front door and I lift my hand, balling it into a small fist as I prepare to knock, but I hesitate. I close my eyes and tell myself to get over it, to just do it. I take in a deep breath, keeping my eyes closer. I remind myself that my father did this to them. I did this to them. I exhale before taking in another breath.

Inhale. Exhale. I open my eyes and I knock. After I knock, I take a few steps back and I just stand there, waiting. A few moments pass so I take a few steps forward, preparing to knock again when all of a sudden, the door opens and there she stands. My sister, Holly. We stare at one another. I can tell by my reflection in the glass of the door that my expression matches her, as we both look like we have just seen a ghost. I know that moments are passing but despite that knowledge, to me it feels like time has stopped in its tracks. Her golden hair rests on her face, covering her blue eyes that are producing tears that begin to stream down her golden brown skin, as she speaks, her words haunting me, “Is it happening again? To us….”

I don’t speak, because I can’t find the words, knowing that no matter what I say, there are no words to make this situation any better. That I have no words that can bring her, Logan, or their mother an ounce of comfort. All I can muster is to nod my head yes. She nods her head yes, before pushing the door open wide enough for me to step inside. I step inside and I feel sickness rising in my stomach as I glance around. The cream colored walls are still littered with family photos. I see all of our faces, smiling. I remember hoping that it would never end. I tell myself that is what I get for hoping. And then I see him, Logan, the child I have always referred to as my brother, the child that always introduced me as his big brother James, even when he knew that my name wasn’t truly James Evans.

I shake my head, telling myself that one has to love the family secrets that we keep.

Logan steps forward and we have no words. All we do is embrace, wrapping our arms around one another. He squeezes me tight, whispering in my ear, “I know why you’re here…but I’m glad to see you…big brother…”

I tell him that I’m happy to see him. I tell him that I’m sorry. I then look past Logan’s boulders for shoulders and I see Holly standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms pressed down against the arm of the white and black checkered couch that I would always joke about being a giant checkers board. Funny, I tell myself in this moment, that it seems I have always been a living, breathing checker piece. I call out to Holly, and I tell her to go find her mother. She nods and heads into the kitchen, as I break away from Logan. I stare at him. I tell Logan he has grown so much since the last time I saw him. His hair is thick and golden like Holly’s. His eyes blue like hers, but there are no tears. When Logan’s grandfather, the man I called grandfather as well, Henry died, Logan cried and I was there for him, to share the sadness.

They were my family, the only real family that I felt I had ever had or known. And then I see her, the woman I called mother for the longest time, the woman that will always be my mother no matter what. She steps into the room, wearing her nursing scrubs, her long curly auburn colored hair resting around her face and shoulders, tears building up in her blue eyes, matching Holly’s. I stare at all of them before the sickness I felt turns into tears, which flood out of my eyes, as I drop to my knees, not looking at them, as I tell them…

…As I tell them everything…

4.4

The world around is vibrating, like the cameras in those stupid “found footage” horror films, as I make my way towards the SUV. I feel sick to my stomach. I reach the vehicle and I open the door to climb inside, but the sickness rises and I find myself puking all over the road before their house, the house where I lived as James Evans for so long. James Evans is nothing more than an identity my father came up with when I was around seven, right before we came to this city. Dad has always been involved in drugs but he would rat out kingpins, runners, anyone and everyone that he could, just as long as it benefitted him. My father got in touch with all the right people in the FBI, CIA, DEA…you name it and my father had connections.

He would always keep me around the business so I could learn about it. I remember my father always claiming that the business was going to be his gift to me, that it would be my birthright. That it was to be my destiny to follow in his footsteps. His footsteps led us through so many families that my father would ultimately destroy, using them for their wealth and their power to bend it to his will, in order to advance his business, to further build his legacy and my birthright, before we finally settled. Like the Devil himself, my father has had so many names. And like father, like son…like the Devil and his little spawn, so have I. But then he became Charles Evans, marrying the woman I would grow to call mother, even taking her name in order to keep their family legacy alive and well. The Evans family had one heir, a blood relative, to give anything and everything yet the family gave it to a child that they adopted. It was in his hand of cards to get it all, until I came along.

Our shares of the Evans Empire were split evenly, but somehow or another, my father, being the silver tongued Devil that he was, managed to gain even more for himself. He ended up leaving that to me, resulting in yours truly gaining more than my “cousin”. My father made sure all of his bases were covered and that my future would be secure. My father bought and paid a lawyer, turning the once law abiding citizen into a corrupt bureaucrat, in order to do so. My “cousin” and I have a lot of bad blood but our paths never cross. If I had to destroy him or anyone else in the Evans family I would not care as they were all spoiled brats and pieces of shit, except for my mother, Logan and Holly. That is why I am sick. That is why I feel like a piece of garbage, because now they have to go into hiding like all of the other families my father soiled.

I am sick because even though he is dead, my father the monster gets away with it, just as he did while he was alive. Because it benefitted Charles Evans to provide his badge wearing connections with benefits to further their careers. My father was a modern day Whitey Bulger. I climb into the SUV, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. I turn and grab the bottled water Kyle had been his legs and I guzzle the remainder of it down, before tossing it in the floorboard. I look at Briggs and nod at him, before he starts the vehicle and we drive off. I do not look at the house. I want to look back and watch it disappear in the distance, but I fight the urge. I keep my mind and my eyes on what’s in front of me.

And we drive. It feels like we drive for an eternity, but after going through what I just went through, I would love to just drive, to escape the hell I’ve been living in. Just as I wanted to when I tried to disappear before Briggs and his cronies pulled me out of that van. Once I feel that we have put several miles away from my last childhood home, I look at Briggs as he drives down the highway, and I ask, “So Briggs, I have a question. When this is all over, when you’re done with me, what do I think I should do afterwards? If I’m actually still alive that is…Do you think I could go live with them, wherever they end up and live happily ever after? Or should I go somewhere and work on a farm, living alone with except with the animals around me before I kick the bucket?”

Briggs doesn’t look at me. He keeps his hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. I face the road as well, just as the sun slips down behind the mountains, washing away the blue skies and white clouds, replacing it all with black, and a few stars scattered throughout the nighttime sky. I stare at it, as the scene begins to give me an ounce of peace. Briggs clears his throat which interrupts the trance I found myself in, as he responds, “I guess you could always go back to wrestling. Do you still do that? I know your father got you into that when he was working for me, as he knew people all over the United States that we could bust.”

“Yeah I remember, Briggs. I would travel and he would give you guys the city where I’d be. He would let you know whether or not he knew of any criminal activity. If he did, we would have to stick around for a little while longer just so he could help you out. And yes, I still wrestle. It is the only thing that I really have left. I was actually leaving an event, preparing to go into hiding, to get away from it and away from situations like the one I’m in. Yet, you found me and pulled me back in, so I still wrestle. It’s an escape for me. It’s a way for me to get my mind off of everything else going on around me. For however long I am competing, I feel free,” I say before running my hands over my face and shaking my head, as I tell myself that I was oh so very close to getting away from it all, but Briggs’ voice breaks me from my self-loathing.

“Well that is interesting, James. Maybe you could still help us after we get rid of Sanders. There are plenty of other pieces of shit out there, just like him, that need to be behind bars. Your father was vital in our operation and you could do the same,” I remove my hands from my face and I turn my head slightly to the left, staring over at Briggs, who seems to be happy with his words, like he is confident that I will say yes. I can tell just by that stupid smirk on his fucking face.

“I hope you’re kidding, Briggs because there is no way in Hell I am doing anything else for you, for him…” I say, pointing at Kyle, who sits up in his seat and glares at me, before return my focus back to Briggs, “I said I would help you with Sanders. He knows I am an informant. I had to send my family…” My voice breaks up. I lower my head and close my eyes, as I continue to speak, “I had to send the only family I had into hiding because of this bullshit. If I make it out alive, if Sanders doesn’t fucking kill me then once this is over, you will never see me again. I want all of you to stay the hell away from me. I don’t want…I don’t need…any of this.”

Briggs shrugs his shoulders, “If that is what you want James then you will get it…”

I cut him off, “Is that legit, Briggs or is that just another one of your broken promises? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just more horse shit spewing from your mouth. You’re very good at it. I asked to get out of this and you said you’d get me out.”

Briggs returns the favor and cuts me off, “And I also told you that it would take time, that I wouldn’t be able to get you out overnight. As Kyle and I have both stated, this whole thing is bigger than you. Sanders has someone working for him. This person is one of us. I need to know who it is. That is very important, because if trust is broken then everything else falls apart. There are a few heroes left, James whether or you want to believe it or not. I am one of them and I am trying my best.”

I shake my head and crack a grin, crossing my arms as my body begins to shake due to laughter. I see Briggs glaring, fuming as he looks on ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Once the laughter dies down, I finally respond, “You’re trying your best? Well, Briggs…I can appreciate that. It means a lot that you’re trying your best to be one of the good guys and to do the right thing all of the time. But allow me to say this. You trying your best is more than likely going to get me fucking killed. I will probably end up being chopped to bits and fed to the rats in the sewers. But hey, you keep doing your best and let’s hope and have faith that everything goes great for all parties involved.”

“You know James you’re an ungrateful son of a bitch,” I hear Kyle shout from the back. I turn and face him as he continues, “Things are being taken care of so why don’t you just do us all a favor and chill the fuck out. That’d be great if you could just do that.”

I smirk, “You know what, Kyle? I will take your advice and just chill out. That seems to be the only thing that I hear. That things are being taken care of. That I need to relax. That these things take time. So if you don’t mind, I am going to sit here, shut up, and I’m just going to relax and let you two fuckers take care of everything. And just remember, you’re both doing a wonderful job,” The words escape my lips and I turn in my seat, staring at the road ahead, knowing full and well that things are not alright. The voice of my father is right. I have been saying it and agreeing with the voice for the last little bit now, but I have also been fighting it. I look at the reflection of my face in the mirror, as I think to myself that there is no reason to fight it any longer.

Like father, like son…

Like the Devil and his seed…

I tell myself that I can’t outrun my destiny.

4.5

You’re wondering what the hell is going on. In television, you start the episode with someone saying, “Previously On…insert catchy TV show title here” and then you see scenes from the last week’s episode, or even a few scenes from prior episodes leading up to the new one. There has been a twist in the tale so to speak. There has been some new information regarding the man you, and everyone else, has come to know and love known as James Evans.

But as you may have gathered, James Evans isn’t truly James Evans. He grew up as the boy with no name before graduating to the man with no name. James Evans has had a life. He went to school, graduated. He had part time jobs. He made friends. He has had relationships with various women. He has shaken hands with people, and he felt real to them. James Evans is not a figment of anyone’s imagination. He has been in your face and on your mind. He has given you butterflies and he has also broken your heart. You can even pull up a birth certificate, as James Evans has been the only name to truly stick to this man you’ve come to know.

You will only find records on James Evans, as any other files or documents regarding him under any other names have been destroyed and forgotten, because his father knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. I have been playing this role for so long now that I have no idea what is fact and fiction in terms of my identity or where I come from. I have moved around my entire life. I feel like Jason Bourne, a man trying desperately to figure out who he is. I feel like Robert Downey Jr.’s character from “Tropic Thunder”. I’m the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude. I am not sure if the dudes have emerged or not.

The world may never know but there is a chance that I won’t go back to my roots and figure out who my birth mother was or any of that jazz. The only thing that I do know is that my father was a criminal mastermind. He was always wearing different masks. He was the drug dealer who ratted other drug dealers while quietly taking over criminal activity all over the globe. And I am his son, the heir to the throne.

A throne that my father was building before I was born, and continued to build up until the day he died. He talked me into becoming a wrestler. He paid for my training. My father put me through all kinds of training, outside of the wrestling ring. I learned how to fight, how to do all kinds of things. Those skills have remained dormant for the most part, because I didn’t want think I would ever have to use them. Truth be told, I never wanted to use them. I learned how to shoot thanks to my father, with the sole purpose being so that I knew how to take a life if ever necessary. This is the sort of shit that I did not want to ever know, because I didn’t think I would ever find myself out in an open field, during a down pour, with a gun pressed against the skull of a man I knew as a friend, only to blow his brains out. You don’t think of that shit as a kid.

My father used to come with me on the plane trips to various cities. FBI, DEA, CIA…anyone and everyone wanted my father to use my wrestling career as a cover. He would fly with me then disappear into Los Angeles, New York and God knows where else, to make connections with cartels he knew of, no matter what they were into, be it drugs, sex trafficking, you name it, my father knew about it. While I was getting my ass kicked or kicking ass on live television, my father was destroying the livelihood of other criminals while expanding his criminal empire in the process. He said he was doing it for me, saying that he wanted to leave something behind for me.

My father was so thoughtful.

“James…” I feel a hand touch my leg and I jerk, springing up in my bed and I find myself staring into the eyes of Kyle. I am in my bedroom, of my own place, lying in the dark. I must have dosed off but I am surprised I have slept due to the fact that my mind is running at a million miles an hour. Kyle steps back, standing in my doorway, while I run my hands over my face and through my hair, trying to gain my bearings.

I take in a deep breath, hold it for a few moments while closing my eyes, before exhaling and opening my eyes, “What do you want, Kyle?” Kyle only knows me as James. No one really knows my real name, not even Briggs who worked with my father quite a bit.

“I wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing. Looks like you were having some sort of nightmare. You’re covered in sweat,” I look down as he says it. I am covered in sweat. I stand up from the bed and remove my gray now nearly black T-shirt. I grab another one off of the floor and place it over my head before turning and facing Kyle.

“Having a nightmare,” I let out a sigh before cracking a grin, “I am living a nightmare right now, Kyle. Just in case you haven’t noticed,” I say before walking out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. I open the fridge and grab a two liter of Coke and a bottle of Jack Daniels, before mixing the two together in a glass, dropping in a few chunks of ice. I bring it to my lips and take a few gulps. Kyle steps into the kitchen, and leans against one of the counters, as I ask, “So why are you here? I doubt it was to check on me. You and I haven’t been friends for quite some time so there is no need for the bullshit.”

Kyle shrugs his shoulders and nods his head, “Yeah you’re right. We haven’t been friends for a long time. And I know that there is a lot of animosity between the two of us, but there is a good reason for that. Your father turned out to be a fucking criminal and you were working for him. Not only that, you crashed my fucking wedding a few weeks later with some bimbo. So excuse me for not kissing your ass right now.”

I take another gulp of my drink before releasing a sigh, as I feel a grin appear across my face, “Yeah I remember all of that. Good times, Kyle, really good times. How is the wife by the way?” The memory of crashing his wedding begins to appear in my mind. I showed up stoned off of my ass. I am pretty sure I had brief intercourse with whatever bimbo I brought during the reception. I sneezed all over the wedding cake. I told his father to go have a heart attack and die when the old guy tried to remove me from the church. I am pretty sure I slapped his wife on the ass and told her that I had a bigger cock than Kyle. All of that happened before Kyle shoved me outside and punched me a few good times. Looking back on it now, I can’t say that I didn’t deserve it.

“She is good. My family is good. I got two kids just in case you didn’t know,” But I do know. I would log into Facebook or some shit and look at Kyle’s wife’s page, just to see all of the happy memories he was making. I remember always feeling proud of him. Knowing this puts a soft smile on my face, only for Kyle to break my concentration, “But all in all, they are doing a lot better than your family. They haven’t had to go into hiding.”

I have the glass close my face, but I exhale as I bring it back down and placing it on the counter beside me. I look down as my hands clench into fists. I want to attack Kyle, but I tell myself not to. I remind myself that they were in that situation because of my father and myself. I look up and lock eyes with Kyle, “I am glad, Kyle. I am fucking happy for you. But don’t you dare bring up my family and compare the two. My family is where they are for a reason. I know that. I don’t need you to rub it in my fucking face. And I know that we are friends, but you love my family as they love you. You can at least show them some sort of respect.”

Kyle lowers his head now and nods it, before looking back up at me, “You’re right, James. I love them because they are my family and they have always been my family. I shouldn’t have talked about them like that and I apologize. To them, but not to you.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Kyle.”

“James, we were best friends and there’s a chance that we could be friends again. I just have to know that I can trust you to do the right thing.”

This time I take a drink, gulping down the remainder of the Jack and Coke. I sigh as I bring the glass from my lips, “I’m just like you, Kyle. I’m just like Briggs as well. I am doing my fucking best. I want to bring Sanders down. I am sure I want it more than you and Briggs combined.”

Kyle crosses his arms and steps forward. He stands just a few inches from me. I look up at him from my slouched position against the kitchen counter, “If you want him so bad then stop bitching and do what you’ve been tasked to do. Get this shit over with so you can move on. I know Briggs wanted you to work with him further but I spoke with him. As soon as Sanders is brought down, you’re off the hook. You will be free to try and live a seemingly normal life.”

“What about my family? What happens to them?”

“You know what happens, James. They go into witness protection and they stay there.”

I nod my head then brush by Kyle, before pouring myself another drink. I guzzle it down pretty quick before turning and facing Kyle once more, “Well, as long as they’re safe Kyle…that is all that matters. But remember this,” I say, poking my finger into his chest, “If anything happens to them, anything at all, then I will hold you responsible. You had them in protection, meaning you are meant to protect them from here on out. If something happens to them then I am going to come after you and I will fucking kill you. I can promise you that.”

Kyle reaches up and knocks my hand away, stepping closer, glaring at me, “You need to calm yourself, James. And trust me, nothing is going to happen to them. I will make sure of that. “

I nod, “Yeah. We shall see.”

- S H O O T -

I open the back door, listening to the creaking sound it makes as I slowly push it open. It reminds me of the times I would come home later from partying with Kyle, Daniel, or even Sanders back when we were still in high school. I am in the house where my family lived. I step into the kitchen and I close my eyes as I start thinking about all of the meals I came home to. I open my eyes as I look around and see that the home is nothing more than a house for ghosts and memories. I release sigh before lifting the camcorder up to my face, pressing start as I begin to speak.

-REC-

“Memories…We all want to make memories in this industry, as well as in our personal lives. Donovan Kayl wanted to make a memory when he faced Syren for the World Championship a few months back. He wanted to claim the title as his own and claim his spot in the SCW’s bullshit…I mean, illustrious history. He wanted to showcase that all of his hard work and dedication to this company as well as to this sport had finally paid off. He wanted to be known as the SCW Champion. It could have been a memory but the only thing people remember from that was Donovan laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling lights while Syren paraded around, enjoying her time of victory, continuing her boring ass reign. Thanks Donovan. I am sure I speak for a lot of the SCW universe when I say you could have done a lot better. You could have actually beat Syren, yet you choked up. And to me, that is just a little sad.”

“I mean, I would be lying if I said you didn’t have talent. I would be an idiot to say that you don’t have the skills to win any title on any given day, because Donny Boy, you’ve proven that you can go. You went out with your tag team partner, Simon at Rise to Greatness. You stepped in between those ropes as Standing Room Only and you went against Monarchy for the SCW World Tag Team Championships. It was a hell of a match and to be honest, I didn’t think you guys would pull it off, but you went out there and you did it. You both stood tall, having your Rise to Greatness moment, making a memory no less. It was a classic match, Donovan and normally I would think it would be something to be proud of, but when you really think about it, you shouldn’t be proud at all. When you really take a step back and look at that match, at that moment, at that…memory…you have to realize that your tag title win was overshadowed thanks to the relationship dynamic between Simon Lyman and Trinity Street. Their love-hate relationship meant more than the Tag Team Championship which is something that just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“I have never been a fan of having something be more important than the title if I am competing for a championship. But then again, I try not to have relationships with people I work with. I mean, look at Katelyn and I. We were fuck buddies. I knocked her up. She had triplets and there was just all kinds of drama. She also fucked William Mason, Ace Marshall and I am pretty sure she blew my cousin Chad. I learned my lesson really quick. No, any time I competed for a championship, it was about the championship and nothing else. And that is why, Donovan, I am going to bust my ass to make sure you don’t get to make a memory at Final Level, because I am going to crush your hopes and dreams, something that I have been doing to your little Youth Movement. So in a way, you should already be used to it by now.”

I move through the kitchen, keeping the camera on my face, as I slide into the hallway, connecting the kitchen to the living room area. I stand in the hallway for a few moments, and I stare at the walls. The walls that once held pictures of the family, are nothing more than empty. There is no life to the walls. I release a sigh before looking back at the camera as I continue to speak.

“I am sure you heard all of that Simon. How are you doing by the way? I mean, when you and I stepped into the ring together, I remember fucking you up more or less. How’s the back? Has it properly healed? I am sure there were quite a few nasty bruises once I was done. But I told you going in, Simon that I was going to hurt you so you shouldn’t been surprised. And at that time, Simon you held the SCW World Tag Team Championships. I told you then that I wanted them. That hasn’t changed. The only thing that has changed is that you no longer hold those titles which is a shame, because I would have loved nothing more than step into the ring against you and Donny Boy, with the titles on the line just so I could take them from you personally. But that didn’t happened. You lost them to the Sisterhood whom I will address later on down the line. I wanted to address you first, because despite all of your talent and your accomplishments, which neither are a subject that I can knock or bash, because you’ve done quite well, Simon. I’ve said that before.”

“But despite all of your talent and all of your accolades, including holding the straps we will be competing for at Final Level, you tarnished them at Rise to Greatness. You wanted to win the titles with your best friend on the biggest stage of them all, but you allowed those belts to become nothing more than fucking props, Simon. You are someone who loves this business. You even talked shit about me behind my back, saying that I disrespected this sport you love so much, yet you disrespected one of this sport’s most prestigious titles by focusing more on your wife and how much she hurt you by fucking another man. Yeah I can see why you would be pissed but didn’t that happen a year or so ago? I mean, haven’t you moved on yet? And did you not take the time to think about your child? How do you think it made your daughter feel to see her father fighting and hurting her mother? I am sure she was devastated, but as I was devastated by the fact that the SCW World Tag Team title match at Rise to Greatness became a fucking soap opera. You, Simon, are no longer worthy of holding the tag titles my friend, because just as you seem to be outside of the ring, you are an unfit parent. You cannot take care of the titles, Simon, which means that they are going to be placed in the custody of yours truly and Jake Starr.”

“You tarnished the titles by making them seem less than important, making them take a back seat to your feud with your ex-wife and Lucas Knight. Which once again, I am not sure why you are even mad at him. She seems to have downgraded because Lucas isn’t worth a shit in the ring or out. He has to have some carry him, which is why he is always in a fucking group. You should feel lucky, but you can feel that way later, if you are able to walk out of Final Level with your health intact. I started something all of those weeks ago on Breakdown. I plan on finishing it Simon. You can show up and talk about how you respect your opponents and how I am a stain on professional wrestling. You can say the same thing about Jake Starr. But it will not change the fact that we are not Next Level. We do not give a shit about what you think of us, or how you feel about us. You can save your breath and your talk of respect for everyone else involved in this match. I am not going to speak for Starr, but I know that I am coming out to the ring to hurt you, to embarrass you, and to make you what you’ve always been to your wife, which is a bitch.”

“Do you see these walls, Simon?”

I move the camera, placing the empty walls of my home on display. I do not state the home is where I grew up, because unlike Simon and basically the entire fucking SCW roster these days, I am not a fan of my personal life being plastered all over the internet, or live fucking television. After walking up and down the hallway, showing both walls, I bring the camcorder back to my face, and I smirk before continuing.

“These walls were more than likely covered up in pictures, depicting happiness and good times for a family. I am sure that these walls were filled with memories. Your big match at Rise to Greatness, for the Tag Team Championships should have been filled with memories, yet you did nothing but cast a black cloud of it. The tag titles should have been treated with respect, love and dignity, yet you did none of that. Is it your fault that Trinity and Lucas Street were tag champs at the time? No. But you could have turned down the opportunity to compete for the titles, stating that it was more personal than that. You have no respect for the titles, nor this business. You are no hero. You have allowed your personal life to be displayed on SCW programming, simply because you shit where you eat, Simon. I do not like you, Simon and yes I do have a personal vendetta against you and Donovan Kayl. I want to piss on the legacy of Standing Room Only, because that is what you did to the belts you want to hold once again, but it is not going to happen. Do you hear me, Simon? The titles are like your daughter. A child can only take but so much abuse before something has to be done. Something will be done at Final Level. I will step in and save the fucking day, Simon. I will hurt you. I will rain on your parade. I will punish you because I refuse to allow the SCW Tag Team titles to enter a broken home again and that is what they are to you. Props. Something you can put on the back burner. Sunday night I will finish what I started and break your damn back.”

“The fans can chant SRO…SRO..S…R…O all that they want, but in the end, Standing Room Only will not be standing. The very foundations will be broken and there will only be room for two people, two wrestlers who have stood up against the bullshit and the corruption of this company, a company that has tried to slow them down and hold them back. I am not talking about Gable and Autumn. I am not talking about the Sisterhood. No, I am talking about Jake Starr and I, James Evans. The smoke will clear and the dust will settle, as I said, there will only be room for two people to stand tall and it will be us, as we stand there in the center of the ring, as the newly crowned SCW World Tag Team Champions. There is nothing that any of you can do about it. Try if you dare, fight us if you must, but you will fail.”

The words roll off of my tongue. I feel a sudden surge of confidence rushing through my veins, as I finish addressing Standing Room Only. There is a part of me that wishes they had defeated the Sisterhood and that they would be defending the SCW tag team titles against Jake and myself. But the confidence in me does not dip into recession because he and I have to face three teams instead of the one I originally wanted. It increases. I bring the camera down from my face as I exit the hallway, and my eyes rest upon the room I once called my own. I slowly step into my old bedroom and I look at it, thinking about how I would watch wrestling on my TV in my room when my father wouldn’t allow me to. Or how I would come in here when he would poke fun at wrestling when I’d watch it in the living room. I stand in the center of the room for a few moments, before slowly sitting down on the cold floor. I take a deep breath as I bring the camera to my face. I exhale and begin to speak once more.

“And to go on record, you brought this upon yourself, SCW. The powers that be forced this so called “unholy alliance” to form, and now everyone in the SCW will suffer the consequence, as there is a fuck load of hell to pay. You can send your best, but be sure to send someone that you don’t want back. Jake and I aren’t best friends by any means, but we are like minded. We have no problem with sending all of the heroes in the SCW back to the locker room a fucking body bag, or a gurney at the very least. I mentioned broken homes to Standing Room Only and associated the concept with the tag team championships. If you really think about it, the SCW is a broken home as well. It provides shelter to its superstars, but it also abuses some of those stars, such as Jake and myself. It puts in places or situations we do not want to be, such as the low to mid card, keeping us from the opportunities to grow and advance, to better ourselves. It puts us down, which has led to the moment that occurred at Supreme Saturday. We are going to fight back. We are going to make the SCW pay for everything that it has done to us. This is a war, SCW. This isn’t the fucking New Eden or the Blood Grove. Nah, we are just going to take anyone and everyone out. And when it is all said and done, those in charge of this fucking company will be asked if they respect us now, if they value us now…and if they say no, then this vicious cycle will repeat until you get it through your thick fucking skulls.”

I am glaring into the camera as I deliver my message. After I stop speaking, my glare fades into a smirk.

“This is only the beginning and the worst hasn’t gotten here, but it’s on its way. Be prepared SCW.”

My smirk becomes a glare once again as I scowl into the camera, wanting the SCW to see that I believe the words I say. I want them to see it when they look into my eyes. I hold my glare for a few moments before cutting the feed, letting it fade to black.