Letters to My Younger Self

Prologue
Owner of a Lonely Heart
Atlanta, Georgia
9/14/2016

KNOCK....KNOCK.

"Hey."

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I ask as I open the door, staring at Josh's soaked clothes. "C'mon, let's get you out of the rain."

"Thanks." He mutters, almost in a daze like trance. "How long have I been out there?"

"I don't know." I say, watching as he continues to shiver. "For God's sake, take that shirt off. I'll get a blanket and make you some tea. Camomile, right?"

"Yeah." He says, peeling off his shirt and dropping it in the floor. "I didn't know where else to go."

"Go? Josh I'm confused."

His eyes are red, and he has no real recollection of how or when he got to my house. In addition to being confused by his vague explanations, I'm primarily concerned with Josh's well being. We've always had a cat and mouse type of relationship, but I still care about him despite my heart being broken. It took me some time to heal, but I understand now why he went away in the way he did, which is why I forgave him when we reconnected.

People in Atlanta generally take two paths, either mine or Josh's. Sometimes those paths occasionally cross, but in all likelihood you either stay involved with your surroundings or get out. I regret declining Josh's offers several times, and now the life I've always wanted belongs to someone else. He made it, which is why I'm surprised to see him here in his current state. I want him to be happy, but the last several times he's visited Josh hasn't been happy.

"So start at the beginning." I say as I walk into the living room with a blanket and a cup of tea. "What happened?"

His eyes begin to well up as he mutters, "She left me."
*****

Dear fifteen year old Josh,

So, you just won your first match the other day.

Betcha feeling pretty good about yourself, right? Five hundred people at the VFW, wrecking that chump in about as much time as it takes to warm up a plate of leftovers. The cheers, admiration, and a possible endorsement from the boss himself has you thinking you're on the fast track to stardom. Well, hold off hiring that personal chef rookie because you've still got a long way to go. You're not that good, yet.

What was that, you don't get it? Here, let me repeat it just so you didn't misunderstand me.

You're not that good, yet.

I know you, and that probably just made you mad. Good, use it. But if it's any consolation you will be though. Believe me, you have the talent and athleticism to succeed in every goal of this business. You know, the ones you set for yourself the first time you saw wrestling. You'll achieve it all in due time, but before you get there you're going to traverse the globe and meet a whole host of people. Some of them will become your family and some you'll forget. Sounds strange right... the kid from College Park being a world traveller, making more money than he knows what to do with. But it's going to happen because of that look of desire in your eyes, the one attribute which will continually set you apart from your peers. You'll lose that fire at a point, but more on it later. This letter is about gaining knowledge to carry with you while embarking on a journey that's stranger than fiction, too outlandish to be made up. So to accompany you, I have but one piece of advice to offer.

Start studying and learning...NOW.

Prepare your body and open your mind to embrace everything good, bad, and indifferent. I know what's going through your mind right now.

"Damn, this is a lot of information to process all at once."

Let it sink in Josh, because you're not going to have a lot of time pretty soon. Opportunities are going to come your way very quickly, and you're about to have the greatest gift/curse bestowed upon you in the form of a nickname you're going to spend years trying to justify. Right now you're having fun and that's what this business should always be for you, but you need to humble yourself and wrap your head around the severity of these words. It won't be easy, but easy has never been the way you've done things so I'm sure that's not a very big shocker. Never fear though, Robbie is going to give you something before your next match that will stick with you for as long as you do this, a mantra that kinda puts all this sh*t into perspective.

"Only you can control your career."

You've heard him preach it to all of his prospects. Those words will echo in your brain for years after, so commit them to memory. Don't worry, I'll wait. Got it? Great. Now say them with me.

"Only you can control your career."

Good. Now what I want to do is slow down and think about that for a minute. Pretty soon, everything from your beliefs to the way you dress will be held under a microscope and only you can control what's said about it. I don't expect you to comprehend this yet, but take it under advisement as it's one of the last great gifts Robbie's going to give you. Plus it wouldn't kill you to hug the man and tell him you love him, given all he's done for you when the narrative surrounding you could've been much different. How different you ask? Well, I'll answer your question with one of my own.

Do you want to go back to Metro?

No.

Yeah, didn't think so. That's why it's important to surround yourself with good people who will tell you the truth after he dies, because you don't have much longer with him and a void will be in your heart afterwards. It'll f*ck with your mind and you're going yearn for one more day with him, not fully appreciating his sacrifices until you have children of your own.

I hate to blindside you with such depressing news, but I'd be doing you a great disservice if I allowed you to look through blinders and romanticize about how precious life is. You have an aptitude many envy, but it's only going to be as effective as how well you harness it. The sooner you learn that, the easier it'll be to manage expectations. You're a smart kid, so you'll figure out the way that works for you. For the moment though, it's perfectly acceptable to puff out your chest with pride. You did accomplish something that a lot of people talk about and only a few actually do. Considering where you came from and everything you've endured, that just increases the magnitude of your success.

That's worth being proud, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Just know I'm very proud of you. Who you are now, and who you'll become.

I'll write again in a few years to check on you.

See ya then,

Josh

Josh Dean Presents
Letters to my Younger Self
AKA: We've Gone Full Circle

Part 1: Island
Logan International Airport
Boston, Massachusetts
10/10/16

"Can I get a pint of your best lager?"

The barkeep nods while I rest my head on my hands. Back to back red eyes and I'm still getting adjusted to the hellacious travel schedule I've encountered. I have to get myself together before heading down to the Legacy offices, and drinking is probably something I shouldn't be doing. But I need to take a moment to decompress before going into this meeting. Frank's been tough to get a read on, and that's probably why he requested I come to him. It's easier to play hardball on your own turf, a tactic I too have used on occasion with stubborn clients. Whoever he has on his team prepared him well, but I'm confident that we can come to some sort of compromise. For an "away game" however, I need to show that I'm still in complete control of my faculties otherwise the deal could be terminated. That's still a distinct possibility given the intensity of our last encounter, but I can provide a sign of good faith if that's what he wants.

The clanging sound of glass on oak causes me to raise my head. "Seven dollars." The barkeep says as he wipes a water ring off the bar.

I hand him a twenty from my pocket before replying, "Keep the change."

I take a moment slowly nurse my beer, knowing that I have a couple hours to kill before I'm supposed to meet Frank. I do owe the guy a bit of professionalism considering I made him a pariah amongst a significant portion of my biggest supporters. We nearly came to blows twice in Minneapolis, and I'm glad cooler heads prevailed. With SuperBrawl fast approaching, I want him to have the opportunity to showcase himself on the grandest stage.

I turn to the barkeep and ask, "How often do cabs come through to do pickups?"

"They should be getting ready for their next round." He says, throwing his towel over his shoulder before asking, "Which area of town are you heading toward?"

"Wherever Legacy Pro's headquarters is located." I say before taking a sip of my beer. "I'm not from the region."

"Well that's downtown, which is a nightmare at this time of day." The middle aged man says while washing out a couple dirty glasses. "You'd be better served to go ahead and get yourself a cab going that way. It'll save you time."

"And here I thought I would be able to sit down for a casual drink."

"In one of the busiest cities in the country." He retorts, sitting the glasses off to the side. "That's real cute, mister."

"Well, I suppose this is where I bid you adieu." I say before polishing off my beer. "Thank you for your time."

I turn in my seat to see the people scattering through to their flights. Many of them seem in a rush, reminding me of a time when I shared that sentiment. Most of my adult life has been one big blur with the occasional moment standing out. It was when I decided to come back that I made myself slow down, if for no other reason than to appreciate it all. I had a little help though, in fact I'd venture to say I had a lot of help. I reckon it's time to get steppin'.

"Sh*t." I say to myself as I get to the cab pickup. "The man wasn't joking."

I hail to a cab and a petite blonde walks up beside me, also hailing a cab. I look over and smile at her, which is reciprocated.

"Where you heading?" I ask, noticing the duffel bag in her hand.

"Downtown." She says, checking the phone in her other hand. "I just got a new job and they're wanting me to report for orientation."

"Yeah, I'm heading that way to meet some new clients."

"Oh, so you're in marketing?"

"Something like that." I reply as the cab pulls up. "I kinda wear a lot of hats."

"Yeah?" She says, opening the door. "Well, we're going to the same part of town, so there's no reason we can't share a ride."

"Please." I say as I take the door and hold it before motioning her in. "After you."

She nods and climbs into the cab, saying, "A gentleman, not too many around anymore."

"I try."

I climb into the cab and she asks, "So what kind of business are you in? You don't look like a typical businessman. Something about the beard."

"And the hair." I add, running my fingers through it. "I guess I'm a little rough around the edges as far as presentation, but it's only a small part of what I do."

"Oh really, what else is there?"

I lean back in the seat before saying, "I'm a wrestler."

"I know a couple people in that business."

"I've probably met them."

"Have you ever met Frank Lynn?"

"Yeah." I respond, lifting my briefcase. "That's my new client."

"He's a good guy, though I haven't spoken to him in quite some time."

"Well, a wrestler's life doesn't leave much time for social calls."

"I met him when he was still fighting." She says while texting. "Even trained at his gym for a while before I left the country."

"For work... or were you trying to broaden your horizons?"

"A little bit of both." She replies, sweeping her hair out of her face. "My work allows me some pretty cool opportunities."

That narrows the possibilities down to a few, given her physical stature and appearance. With model good looks, this girl could easily have several options in many mediums. Maybe she was a ring card girl at one of Frank's fights because it would be an easy night of work to wear a bikini and watch fights, especially if she were training. It wouldn't be a stretch if she were involved in the fashion industry, which would explain travelling abroad. Speculating never ends well, so perhaps I should hold off until the information presents itself.

"What I can tell you about Frank Lynn is that he's fiercely loyal, which should work in your favor since you signed him..."

"It's actually a bit more complicated." I interrupt. "Frank and I were on opposite sides of a tag team match a couple months ago. My team won and I think Frank believes I'm trying to sign him so that I can avoid fighting him again."

"Are you?"

"No." I shot out defensively. "We truly have similar views, but make no mistake about it darlin', I will fight Frank again if that's what he wants. But that isn't what I want because he and I can make a lot of money together."

"You're that good huh?"

"I'd like to think I have a good team in place."

The cab pulls into my stop and as an added surprise, both of us open the doors to exit. I smirk before she says, "I guess I'll be watching how well you work with Frank. If you're good to him, I may be in contact with you."

"I don't usually work in the modeling industry, but I can certainly try my hand there." I say before handing the cabbie a twenty. "Expanding horizons, right?"

"Who said anything about modeling?" She says, grabbing her duffel bag. "I'm a wrestler too."

And this is why I don't assume anything anymore.

Part 2: Fatigue

Dear twenty-one year old Josh,

Right now you have two contracts in front of you, each worth seven figures. This is easily the biggest payday you've been offered in six years of being a professional, and I know how many sleepless nights you've had debating over which company is actually investing in you. The kicker is that you hold championships in both promotions, making it almost impossible to commit five years of your life to one or the other. Not to place any added pressure on you, but this will be the hardest decision you'll ever make. So take your time picking and only go with the company you feel is solidifying your future. But when you do, promise me you'll look at the fine print.

Oh you did, did you?

Tell me, which one offered insurance for your medical bills? Remember that match against Johnny Malice, where you heard a pop in your shoulder lifting his scrawny ass up for a powerbomb? Well that pop was the sound of your rotator cuff getting shredded to sh*t. To make matters worse, your AC joint is basically nonexistent now because of the extra strain. Or how about the New Breed finals, when you thought it was a good idea to try a big boot on Reckless, a guy at least four inches taller than you? There just went your meniscus, which is going to set up a lot of problems for you later because you don't like going to doctors.

You'll refuse to admit it, but you're hurt...badly.

And this is what we call uncharted waters because it's the first time you've ever been truly injured, and I understand the need to work through it. But it's come to a point where you need that time to recover, and the quality of insurance is vital in this game because let's be honest, surgery and rehab...that sh*t isn't cheap. So look a little closer at those contracts and do the math, or better yet have an experienced lawyer and accountant do it. It'll be a little money out of your pocket that will put millions more in your bank account. Trust me, you're going to need that money in a couple years when you're forced into what seems like an early retirement.

And here you thought you were going to wrestle forever. Oh the optimism of youth claims another victim. Sorry, but you can't work that kind of style or schedule and expect to be around very long.

I know, I just hit you with another sobering piece of information. At this point you probably want to stop reading, but I urge you to keep going. Once you really look at the numbers, it should give you a good indicator of who can actually afford your services. Either way, you're going to become a rich man from all this. So see... it's not all bad. The reality though is that you're going to learn a lot about yourself in the time following this decision, mostly by mistakes of your own doing. It'll be about six months down the road before you're able to comprehend how royally you f*cked up by signing the wrong contract, which in all fairness you'll end up better for it as not only a wrestler but also as a man. Just look at the jujitsu gi sitting in your washing machine. You're going to become addicted to the techniques you're learning, eventually adding them to your in ring arsenal and giving you a new philosophy that will extend your career.

It sounds like I'm giving you conflicting realities, but I think we need to analysis the implications of your current situation. See after realising your error, you're going to wish you had listened to Wayne, the first guy since Robbie that really took you in and taught you about the business in more ways than just performing. Sure DX and Day Wrecker taught you the elements of showmanship, effectively providing your first real 'break' by giving their blessing for the fabled RX faction to continue under your leadership. There's still a certain level of loyalty attached and while that's great, Wayne taught you how to carry yourself as a professional. It'll take some time to repair that relationship.

Listen... that's the only thing he ever asked from you, especially when he invited you into his home. I know you'll remember it with regret, the palpable concern etched on his face as he tried to guide you.

"Why do you smoke so much?"

"Everyone has a vice."

"I guess I should consider myself lucky."

You'll think he's full of sh*t when he chuckles, "Give it time, you're still young."

"Not that young."

"You're barely old enough to drink." He'll say as you watch him thoughtfully draw from his cigarette. "But if I had to give you an answer, it's probably because I'm too old and set in my ways to quit now."

"Even though it'll probably kill you?"

"We all gotta go somehow." He'll say before offering you a smoke. "Besides, the in ring damage will probably do worse."

You'll politely refuse him when he'll notice a grimace in your motion and remark, "Please tell me you've had that shoulder looked at."

"A couple weeks ago," You'll say sheepishly and slump into your chair. "My rotator's torn."

He'll sigh and take a drag before saying, "Look, I don't need to tell you those cortisone shots aren't helping."

"How did you...?"

"There ain't much goes on around here that I don't know about, whether or I not I want to know."

"You're the man in charge though."

"Right, but I don't need to know everything...especially when it's not relevant."

"Even if what you think isn't relevant could hurt the company?"

"When a guy's private life interferes with the product, that's when it becomes my business." He'll say before taking a drink of his Scotch. "You not taking your health seriously is now becoming a big problem."

"You know I can't afford not to work."

"Yeah, and what about if that injury causes permanent damage?"

"Well, I guess I'll just have to accept it."

While you're certainly talented, Wayne knows you need an education on the finer points of negotiation. When you come from nothing, anything resembling a better lifestyle seems appealing. It's human nature and you'll understand that later. You're not starstruck persay, but flattered beyond reason because you believe you haven't earned this change in fortune. Such a cynic. We'll just attribute it to a deep seeded defense mechanism that'll always conflict you. Everyone has one, so there's no reason to get all up in arms about it. Tempting I'm sure, but it's what drives you. Even when your confidence takes a hit, you've always strived to prove that no one works harder than you, the key factor in becoming a self made success. That's what got you into this position, including the injuries. But what you don't know is that's also the reason Wayne has taken such an interest in you, and showing tough love is really the only way he knows.

So don't be offended when he says, "And here I thought you were smarter than that."

I know, what nerve! But Wayne also knows how to push your buttons, trying to ensure you're able to get out of your own damn way. You've always had a problem with that, however, and of course you're going to buck up out of instinct.

You'll ask him for clarification, "What did you say?"

"I said this should be an easy decision, and you're making it more complicated than it has to be." He'll say to reiterate the point, ashing his cigarette out in the tray. "I don't understand why."

"Because two and a half million is a lot of money to turn down."

"It is, but it's also all up front." He'll say before lighting up another cigarette. You'll cock your head and he'll ask, "Have you ever heard of a bait and switch?"

Of course you haven't, and Wayne was speaking rhetorically. This is the first time someone has spoken to you as an adult and you may be there in age, but not in wisdom. Dolly knew that, which is how BQWA was able to plant a seed of doubt in your head. That's all it took for you to veer off the correct path. Understand that certain things are done for a reason, at least that's what people tell us. He'll explain his purpose behind offering what you feel is a low ball offer, so try and keep up.

"When I offer a contract, I give the talent preliminary numbers based on their time with the company and their progress through the ranks."

"I'm the International Champion, so my numbers should be higher..."

"But you also just got out of the House Show circuit." He'll interrupt, taking a drag from his cigarette. "And to be honest, you're not raising your game to that next level yet."

"I'm giving you my best out there."

"Which is why you need to look at what's written in my offer." He'll say, flicking his ashes into a tray. "One and a half million is still a large payday, compared to what... four hundred thousand you were making?"

"Something like that." You'll reply. "I cleared about seven hundred last year."

"But what I'm giving you is time off for surgery, something you desperately need."

He'll pause before saying, "And your surgery will be taken care of."

"Why?" You'll ask defiantly. "So I can go away for six months and undo all the work I've put in getting to this position?"

"Do you really think you're ready for a guy of EBR's caliber in your current shape?"

You'll pause, giving Wayne all the answer he needs. And it's at this moment you'll solidify the choice you're going to make. Because see Wayne may have inadvertently hurt your ego, but he wanted you around. He wanted to teach you, but you wanted to be treated like a star. An impasse such as that makes it hard to reach an agreement.

You'll say in anger, "Well maybe I should go where I'll be appreciated and paid appropriately."

"I can't stop you from doing that." He'll say as you prepare to walk out. "Just know you'll be selling yourself short if you walk out that door."

And he'll be right, because you'll fail to do the one thing that keeps every man relevant. Evolve, and setback is the only way you can truly do that. Your pride has often times placed you in terrible situations, and this is no different. You'll see that money as a blank check, forgetting that it will eventually run dry.

Wayne will help you get back on your feet, however, consequently mending fences with a man that has treated you better than anyone else and better than you probably deserved. Maybe there's hope for you after all.

Until next time.
*****

So...let's review.

Two years ago, I came home and it was a long time coming. Almost seven years away from the company and when I left, I basically left it to rot. However, the company braved on without me and I quickly became a footnote in history, never to be seen or heard from again and only talked about when it was a convenient punchline. By now, everyone knows how big of a mistake it was taking the money and bolting. Consequently, I suppose it's time I came clean about why I made that decision and how it was the linchpin in my return. But before unveiling the last skeleton in my closet I think it's important to note that with maturity comes confidence, something I didn't quite understand a decade ago.

Hello, my name is Josh Dean. That's who I am as a man; in addition to being a father, a business owner, and an athlete. I've been known by many monikers over the course of my career, but the most commonly used is "The Franchise." Now many people wonder and give their own hypotheses about what that means, and to tell you the truth I didn't fully comprehend it until I started representing others in their business ventures. As I said, maturity is the key term, which sometimes is admitting your faults. I talk a lot about perspective, and unfortunately I can't do anything about the past. But what hindsight allows me to do is make logical decisions for the best interests of myself and my family, and that's what this "change" in me really boils down to. I have something to prove to myself because I took the easy way out ten years ago.

At the moment, you're asking how is all of this relevant? Well be patient and I'll get there in a second. Now since I've been back, it's an irrefutable fact that no one has faced the murders' row of opponents I have. From David Brennan to Phillip Schneider, Drakz to Zmey, Demon to Ahriman, Bishop to Whitner, Blaze to Kirkbride. I've fought them all, giving it better than I've received the whole time. That's common knowledge, so is the fact I requested this knowing people would look at me as if I were crazy. But see there really was a method to my madness, a festering abscess that kept pushing me to fight guys who are not known for showing compassion toward their fellow man with a smile on my face. It took nearly a year to put any kind of a winning streak together to amount to sh*t, and I'm proud to say I never wavered in the mission. I digress though because it was something I had to do, otherwise the moniker bestowed upon me as a teenager would've been my undoing.

It almost was.

When you get presented as a guy that personifies greatness, with it comes profound expectations of delivering the goods. Being blessed with attributes that make even the most talented wrestlers envious doesn't help matters either, and I didn't see it because I was looking through blinders. I only saw who I was then and not who I'd later become, criticizing myself more than any rival could've. That young man who took the money wasn't good enough to carry out those visions of grandeur, and it would've been a matter of time before someone proved it. Whether it would've been EBR, Alex, DGX, Hutton, Raider, Kyzer, or anyone who came through those doors during my hiatus, someone would've brought the roof down on my head and I wasn't about to find out who. Money was only part of my motivation, the other was ensuring I didn't wash away like the Ripp Jacksons and Braden Munroes. The only foresight I could say I had during that time was caring about my reputation, which is easier to repair when you're known as a temperamental brat rather than a guy who crumbled under significant hype.

But then something strange happened around the time I broke my neck and Nikki came into my life, I grew up. Kinda had to. Let me tell you, the transition from bachelor to family man makes getting beat up for a living seem like a cakewalk. Then I starting watching film from the first half of my career and it finally made sense why people saw something in me I didn't see in myself. I witnessed myself doing things that defied convention and what's humanly possible, enlightening me on how unique a wrestler I am. I discovered I was good, damn good in fact. It made me sick all those relatively healthy years I spent on inferior talent, because I was afraid of testing my mettle against the best and losing. It's been historically proven that I don't take losing very well, and that mentality is the reason I have succeeded.

But it's come with a steep price, however. I guess what hurts most is that my competitive fire has to come at the expense of one of my few friends left in this business, and I hate it because I love you Cam despite our recent rift. I hope you understand how much I value your camaraderie, which gives me no pleasure in telling you that you've never had to shoulder the burdens I have. An enormous weight of a whole company relying on me as the featured attraction is something you can't fathom because you were always a throwaway gorefest. So let's not kid ourselves as far as your station in this title match, which is simply another obstacle to prevent me from taking back what's mine. You and I both know that belt belongs to me, and I will take it back even if I have to stop you from completing your wrestling bucket list.

But see, it's easy for you to cast stones at me Cam because you've got one foot out the door. And I get looking for a future nest egg, believe me maximizing your brand for a Hollywood crossover is smart business. But the truth is, you aren't hungry enough to risk your cushy prospects on such a dangerous match. So why now, with such a bright future ahead of you, would you push this hard for a shot? Is it because you're nearing 30 and you realize your best years were spent behind the desk or in meaningless blood fueds? Or is it because you've had arguably more success than ever before, causing you to think twice about walking away? Either way Cam, when you leave SuperBrawl without the championship no one will think less of you, by and large alleviating any pressure you'd have. They may boo you for double crossing me, but many will respect the risk. If I don't win, the narrative changes to my failure in a high stakes match which at this point would be devastating. Look at Yukio and how he had to toil for years just so he could have another opportunity. I'll get to Yukio in due time, but almost seven years in between title shots isn't too high on my priorities list because quite frankly I don't have that kind of time.

Wanting something and being willing to take it are two completely different things. You can wish in one hand and sh*t in the other, but really all you're going to end up with is sh*t on your hand. You want to be known as World Champion, just the same as everyone else in this match. You, Sam, and Yukio have arguably made the most noise to stake your claim for that opportunity, but that's really all it is... noise. Now here comes the hard part and the biggest question coming in, can you finish the job? It's one thing to get here, but to definitively be the last one standing requires a willingness to throw your reputation out the window and I suppose this is where we blur the lines of morality.

I have no friends in this match, no allies to help me. Truth told, I'd rather have it this way because my World Title reign has an asterisk beside it. And you did that Sam, all to undermine the fact that Dave and I beat you and Turgain for the Tag Titles along with beating you with a World Title shot on the line. It could've been you that stopped Drakz's record, but it wasn't. Sure you got Kyzer, but let's be clear...it's the only thing that kept you in the conversation. That's why I've kept you at arm's length, because aligning yourself with me for that stretch was convenient for both of us. We were never going to be best friends despite Shawn being a common denominator in our lives, and I know he would've loved to see us clean this place up. Too bad you weren't interested in that, all because of your pursuit of gold. People talk about my desire blinding me, but that was formed long before I came to WFWF. So we'll just have to settle for it being a character flaw, my reputation of undercutting young talent notwithstanding.

I've tried to make the most out of these sh*t circumstances, and once we're locked in that chamber I will have a clear conscience about what needs to be done, which is getting my title back, the right way, at all costs.

You better hope they have enough stretchers for the body count I'm going to rack up.
*****

Part 3: Killer
The Apartment
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
10/3/2016

"I'm shocked he left everything in place."

"It's not like he has a lot of storage options."

"He hasn't been here in months though." Penny says, watching me take my time rolling a joint. "At what point do we just throw our hands up and try to move on?"

"We don't stop..."

"Josh this is crazy, not to mention expensive."

"So."

"Isn't there just a small part of you that believes if Dave wanted to be found, he would've been found?"

"Not as much as that voice telling me Dave needs to know people still care about him."

"I do care, but watching him slowly wither away into nothing makes me think..."

"Think what?" I interrupt. "That Dave's lost the will to live?"

"I guess you can say that."

"And I guess you can say spending time behind bars has a way of crushing a man's spirits."

I pause to finish rolling the joint before continuing, "Right now, Dave's lost his sense of self, and we owe him by seeing to it that he finds it."

"You really aren't going to let this go."

"I can't." I say, leaning forward. "Look, Dave's career may be over by all intents and purposes, but dammit we deserve to know so we can move on with our lives. It's our job to support that decision, and it seems like I'm the only one who's doing it while everyone is sitting around twiddling their thumbs and trying to pretend as though he doesn't exist."

"Are you sure you know what you're asking of him?" Penny inquires as I light up the joint. "Like say there's even the slightest possiblity that he wants to wrestle, well that's great. But if he isn't willing to go all in again, can you live with what would happen if he were forced back into the ring?"

"I could live with that more than a breach of contract." I retort. "We're talking about everything he's built being gone in an instant either way."

"Not all of us have the same sense of responsibility." Penny says, waving off my pass and asserting, "What may be the right way to you may not be best for Dave."

"Do you think I've been trying to control him?"

"I think the last thing he wants to do is disappoint you again."

It's true that I set high expectations for anyone associated with me, and slowly cracks have surfaced to where even Penny and I have a hard time agreeing. I've known Penny much longer than any of my allies, and I understand that she's very bullheaded in her loyalty. She comes by it honestly, being a product of Wayne's regimented and disciplined training approach. Like me, Penny thrived under his tutelage as it provided structure to our lives. I carry that with me in my own endeavors, which has proven to be a clashing point at times in terms of ideology. With business decisions however, it's important to see the other viewpoint.

"So, is that why I had to watch the monitor to find out you're putting your career up against Dex?"

"I've been back and forth on it for a while, and I got caught up in the moment."

"It's easy to do." I reassure her, taking a hit from the joint. "That's how I got into this sh*t with Drakz."

I lean back, taking another hit of the joint before asking, "How long?"

"When Schneider injured me, and I thought I would be forced to." She says as I flick the ashes into an empty can. "Besides, my vision hasn't improved."

Penny pauses before leaning back and continuing, "I'm tired, Josh."

"I am too..."

"No, I'm tired of trying to fight this damn war when it's one step forward and two steps back." She interrupts, throwing her hands up. "I don't know how you have anything left."

"Because my mission statement reads the same as it did when I came out of retirement." I say before taking a drag from the joint, slowly exhaling and leaning forward. "If I don't finish what I started, then what the hell was the point of me coming back?"

"So this is about you?"

"This is for all of us."

"But you just..."

"I know what I said, and I understand how it sounds." I say after taking a deep drag from the joint and sitting it on the can's edge. "It's become a great source of pride for me to be recognized as the architect of what SOS has achieved AS A UNIT. And despite people's perception, I will always think of us equals."

"Yet your resume is the one standing out." She retorts with a hint of resentment. "You distanced yourself from us the second we started struggling, whether you meant to or not."

She pauses as I tie my hair back, "I acknowledged you as the leader of SOS from day one, even when you were losing. But I don't feel like you returned the favor."

There's an awkward pause.

"Shhh." I request while holding my finger up and asking in a whisper, "You hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly, it's quiet." I begin. "This is your life when it's all over. Just boring silence, staring at four walls and whatever human interaction you have at your next job. I know you don't want that."

"It wasn't part of the plan, but sh*t happens."

"Then consider this me returning the favor." I shot out, turning around and pulling my hair over my shoulder. "You see this scar?"

"Yeah."

"Here's something I didn't tell anyone until now, and I'm only telling you this because it's what you need to hear." I say, exhaling deeply as Penny moves closer to me. "I've had several evaluations since coming out of retirement, most of them ending with a surgeon's recommendation that I don't wrestle. That's because my C4 and C5 were crushed under the weight of momentum and a sudden headfirst stop."

"Ok..."

"That means I'm wrestling on borrowed time, three years max according to them. And that's before I have to undergo another fusion." I continue, turning to face her. "So yeah, I've also made sure my best interests were a priority."

"What about the rest of us?"

"Well, I suppose that's all based on need."

One thing I've learned by observation is that people handle adversity differently, and I pray Penny understands why I've chosen a hands off approach. Athletes, particularly wrestlers, generally prefer to solve their own problems; which is par for the course in an occupation where independence and critical thinking skills are so highly regarded. Given how both of us have sought isolation in our times of trial, Penny's revelation comes as a surprise. Did I ignore the cries for help, which would be a failure on my part as a leader? Maybe she and everyone else has me pegged right, perhaps I've unintentionally used them to raise my profile.

I can't help but reflect on my meeting with Frank Lynn after our match at Exodus, and how he's the first one to really bring it to light. Or he could be the only one who had enough spine to say what everyone else thought.

"This stipulation is one you can't walk away from, and I hope you realize how serious it is." I say to break our silence. "Dex is going to try and hurt you if that's what it takes, but you have a choice to either take your beating or fight."

"And what about you?"

"I have no excuses now." I assert, watching the joint slowly fade to ash. "I either kill my tormentors or be killed trying to fight."

*****

Dear twenty-six year old Josh,

It's said the sky is darkest before dawn. Whoever coined that phrase must've had you in mind, because you're going through the most depressing time in your life. Neck surgery is fresh and you're stuck in that halo for the next couple of months, barely able to move and care for yourself. You've gotten by largely without a lot of people, and now you're relying on the few you have with simple tasks. In the prime of your physical fitness, you're looking at an uncertain future and a mountain of cocaine. See while you were cashing those paychecks from that contract, you found yourself enabled by a toxic environment who wanted nothing more than to see you stagnate. Wrestling is all you know and life without it is one you don't seem to care about living in. Eleven years down the drain and that coke is looking like a good respite right about now.

Here's some friendly advice, as if you had a choice... do not snort it. Right now you're feeling a lot of sorrow and you're lashing out at anyone. But let me ask you a serious question. Is it making you feel any better, like you have any sort of power left?

Do me a favor and shut the f*ck up. This isn't the end for you, even if it seems like it.

All that's really happening is that you're burnt out with the lifestyle you're living. Not really the women and money, but that sense of passion and purpose is gone. It's been for a while, which is why before the injury you struggled with finding that killer instinct to finish off inferior competition. In case your forgot this is a contact sport, and sometimes we have to hurt people to stay on top of our game. You've forgotten that among the myriad of people filing through your entourage, and the ones that have been loyal to you are just discarded. All because you're afraid of stating what you want, a family.

You missed your chance with Raven, and her miscarriage was one of the best thing that could happen to both of you. We'll call it much needed distance and time for reflection

Oh you didn't know? Sh*t, I'm sorry to play spoiler. But you had to know that if you f*ck someone without some form of contraception that eventually something would happen, considering you couldn't keep your hands off her it was inevitable.

You're going to meet someone though who will give you that sense of stability you've been craving. She's going to clean you up as far as your habits and look to you for strong partner. And in her that fire will be ignited for one more chance to do what you love, because despite how you feel about it now wrestling will be in your soul. It'll be about two years before you'll consider making a comeback, so enjoy the time off and do something else with your time. Start a business helping other athletes, because your experience will ensure that you will look out for their futures, the same way Wayne did for you. Get married and learn how to love someone, which I know is a stretch for you because bad things seem to happen to those you care about. You need to know that better days are coming your way, and the patience it'll take to brave these new obstacles will make you into the man you'll become.

It seems fitting that you've had such a hard journey because now more than ever you'll finally appreciate it. And when you do decide it's time, give WFWF a call. You have some unfinished business there, and you know what kind I'm talking about. You've been champion everywhere you've went, and WFWF will be no different. It's the only way to end your career, and this time, it'll be on your terms. I'd tell you more about what you'll be facing, but you have a press conference to attend and a trip to the bank to make.

See ya.
*****

You know, I still find it pretty cool that I went from the opening match of SuperBrawl last go around to main eventing this one. Think about that when you neglect to see me as a threat in this match. With so many moving parts in the Chamber, I guess you could say it's easy for me be camouflaged in plain sight. I've embraced the fact that I'm not a larger than life personality or have an Adonis-esque physique as my selling points. I'm just a man who has been blessed with tremendous athleticism and a warrior's spirit, because laying down for anyone isn't a principle I believe in.

My principles have in fact been called into question for as long as I can remember, and quite frankly I've tuned it out because what I do from bell to bell is how I'll be remembered. It's the only thing my detractors can use as ammunition because one thing's for damn sure, no one will be able to touch me in pure talent.

And that's what scares the status quo, that inability to realize the dead reactions from our crowds are due apathy. They want change and they look to me as the man who will bring it to them.

You can say I had a bit of a false start back in January, when my title victory was cut short by a man who has targetted me since the day I walked back into this company. And it took me having to fight this man at every turn to understand how desperate he is to hold onto his spot in the pecking order, you know the one he would've never obtained had I not left ten years ago. That reason and that reason alone is why Trace Demon has chosen to take issue with me, a dark cloud of what ifs that were only answered on his time, because f*ck facing me without some angle attached to it. I'll never confuse Trace for being much in the way of a true fighter, but man is he ever the opportunist. That's threat enough for me in a match where it's a literal crapshoot. A vulture isn't too proud to pick the scraps, and Trace has been circling me for a long time in pursuit of the meal ticket he doesn't deserve. You'd think this would leave a large cloud looming over my head, but instead I see it as my presence creating a shadow he's spent a decade trying to get out from under. And now, as the real Ghengis Khan once said, I am the punishment of God. If you hadn't committed a great sin Trace, God wouldn't have sent a punishment like me to you.

Your punishment is my resilience and tenacity, both of which you can evade but never escape. That's all Black Hole Sun was to me Trace, you delaying the inevitable comeuppance a nice guy like you deserves. You're the last man in this Chamber and I'll be patiently waiting for that pod to open. I'll bet you're wondering what it is you've done so wrong, and I don't have enough time to name everything. So what we'll just say there are things that are sacred ground, and you do not involve them as a result.

Figure that riddle out if you can. But since you're a scholar, philosopher, and MENSA member all rolled into one, I don't expect it to take you very long. Then again, I may be requesting too much from a guy who's best influence spent WAY too much time getting cirrhosis and beating up the defenseless as a way to aservate authority. Fruit...tree, yeah you know the cliché. But it isn't so funny when someone uses your skeletons against you, he who built his foundation on quicksand. It has to sting a little bit that a guy who barely survived the ghetto knows more about interpersonal relationships than you, but I also wasn't raised to believe being a piece of sh*t was admirable, so there's that piece of truth for ya.

Then again, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know and embrace. But what I embrace is very simply rising above it all and proving once and for all that Josh Dean will always be better in every aspect of life than Trace Demon. That's especially true in the ring, that one place you truly pride yourself on owning.

See I don't need to control a wrestling company and denounce every person under contract to feel superior, because the one place I can control is in between those ropes. I guess that's why I've been feeling a bit out of sorts lately, because even that's hit a rough patch. But when you think about what I've endured in the past year, many would be surprised I'm holding it together as well as I am.

For starters, I lost both of my titles for reasons beyond my control.

My marriage is in shambles.

My sons barely sees me because of said estranged wife.

And guess who I blame for all of that, Isaac?

You.

'Who me?' is what you'll say, trying like hell to displace the blame. But it was you that planted seeds of doubt into Nikki's head, making her doubt my respect for her value. When there's even a question and one spouse feels slighted, you might as well throw in the damned towel because the damage is irreparable. I know you're not much on commitment, but Nikki is the reason I came back to this f*cking sport in the first place because quite frankly I didn't need it. And whether or not you will ever admit it, there's always been a hint of jealously because I proved I could be an elite caliber athlete and a family man without needing drugs to cope with a normal life. I guess you can call it the butterfly effect, because it lead me to setting my sights on you. Why? Because of your preceding reputation and the fact we never crossed paths.

Did you make it personal with me? You're damn right you did, and all Trace had to do was join the ride since he can't do anything on his own. So I threw shade on your Tag Title reign and why not, you nearly crippled my tag team partner mentally and I don't know if we'll be able to fix our marriage. That's a line you can't come back from Isaac. And if I have to spend the rest of my career making your life miserable I will, whether the belt is on the line or not. I'm sick of you, but not tired enough to stop beat up on you.

So here's a newsflash, I will be taking my title back in Pasadena because it's the only thing you have left that actually means something. I don't have that luxury, as you took what matters away from me. What scares you the most though is that I've done it once before and you couldn't stop me, so what makes you think you could do it this time around.

Spoiler alert... you can't.

By the way, the face plate is looking a little dingy, so I expect it polished come SuperBrawl. A new era needs a shiny belt to go along with it.

God, I'm going to enjoy saving you for last.

*****

Epilogue
Ties that Bind
Dean Residence
Atlanta, Georgia
10/19/2016


"Thank you for agreeing to come down to Atlanta so we could do this interview today."

"I'll admit, I'm flattered because we have so many capable journalists out there with several questions they want answered." Alecia Matthews says, blushing as she takes a seat. "And I guess my first question is... why me?"

"You did graduate with a degree in journalism if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes from the High Point School of Journalism, Class of 2009." She replies. "But why here in your home? You went through all the trouble of flying me out here when we could've done it at work."

"You can't f*ck at work," I quip while giving her a wink. "The brass tends to frown on inner office fratenizing."

"You're married." She advises with a raised voice, shuffling through her notes while trying to avoid eye contact. "Don't get me wrong I think you're an outstanding competitor and a handsome man, but I wouldn't feel comfortable."

"It's a joke." I say with a chuckle before looking her in the eyes. "No, the reasoning behind this is pretty simple. You never know who's listening."

"Don't you think that's teetering on the edge of paranoia?"

"I chose you because I know out of all the people available, you would respect my request for this to be off the record and private." I respond, brushing my hair back. "Everyone else wouldn't be able to wait to report back."

"Uh...thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Listen, I've developed a bit of a trust issue lately." I say before leaning back in my chair. "And quite frankly, I feel as though WFWF doesn't deserve me going through all the promotional hoopla."

"Even though this is arguably the biggest SuperBrawl ever?"

"Yeah, because I already did my part to get my name thrown in the title match."

I fully expect my salary to be docked a percentage due to this little stunt, but let someone else handle it for once and see what the interest is. Showtime's gate was a WFWF record, only bested by Black Hole Sun. Coincidence, hardly. My name on the marquee opposite of a tired status quo is quite the salivating offering, particularly when there's more at stake than just bragging rights. Those two sour experiences have left me feeling jilted by friends and colleagues alike, forcing me to take matters in my own hands to ensure my best interests remain a priority. Is it selfish? Sure. But I guess 'atta boy' just doesn't cut it anymore.

"I have to be honest..."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Right." She says in an attempt to steer the conversation back on topic. "I wasn't completely sure what I was going to ask you when I agreed to this, but most of social media seems to be commenting on your... change in demeanor."

"Well, what's your take on it?" I ask, folding my hands together. "You do call my matches, after all."

"You do seem a bit colder in recent months than what most have come to expect." She frankly states. "Almost... out of character for you."

"Pardon me if I think you're wrong."
*****

Dear thirty year old Josh,

Win.