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XXXVI · **Yesterday, 09:21 PM**

Ah, what a battle. It felt good to be back in that ring after so long. Though, we did not make much use of the ring at all. Oh, Frances and I did dance a vicious dance and I emerged victorious. I didn’t arrive with fanfare, bravado, panache. Though it is nearly impossible to be without ego, I did my damndest to leave all that behind and just start fresh. After all, I am no longer the same man, who, sans mask, walked these hallowed halls once. Of course, I can’t escape this mortal frame. Beneath this facade I am but a man, flawed, broken, capable of loss. I left it up to Frances to determine the outcome and it worked in my favor. Truly, if he had prepared differently instead of playing at drunken master, perhaps he could have secured his first victory here in the land of extreme.

I am familiar with loss. I am well acquainted with the idea of starting over from nothing, rebuilding or perhaps even abandoning all that I’d known. Allow me to set the scene. It was 2014. I…he, the boy behind the man behind this vinyl cage…we had moved on from pro wrestling, one of our many passions. We had lived a life of privilege, the us that was. Let’s call him One for this purpose. So, One came from a family and wanted for nothing. He went to college, all paid for by dear old mom and dad. He enjoyed the finer things in a place that was inhabited by riches as far as the eye can see. He felt like he deserved this life. He did not. One had not known loss, aside from his childhood dog he lost when he was thirteen. You could accurately say that One was…blissfully ignorant to suffering. To say he was unprepared for real loss feels like a woeful understatement. He was trying to figure out his next move, took a job, not a career in another State.

He wasn’t home when it happened. He wasn’t with his family when the fire started. His mother, his father…my parents, sister, brother, all consumed by the flames while they slumbered. One felt at fault somehow. He did not understand loss before that and he struggled to understand it even then. A whole family, except for him, gone and he, the black sheep, the goof, remained and for what? He had no discernable skills, no purpose. He was just a muddled mass of a person, utterly wrecked by an event that seemed so random. He wasn’t there and he couldn’t understand why he was spared and why they, those who seemed so put together, so secure in their paths, futures planned out for them, were suddenly snuffed out. He tried to seek comfort in his lover, who would soon bear his first child, but all that he had known was just erased. One was devastated. It’s been years and I still feel the weight.

Behind the mask

“JC Keeton. Yet another second generation wrestler, as if Thaddeus Duke and Solomon Kline weren’t enough. We both debuted at Rebellion in attacks and we both had our in ring debut on the last Anarchy, two of several new additions to the Jimmy Stars era of this show. This match has stakes. The victor will face the winner of the triple threat, who will likely be Mister Oz, provided hell doesn’t freeze over, for the chance at the Revolution championship. Look at us, two new faces getting an opportunity like this, a potential showcase at Leap of Faith. At first glance, a reward for each of us, having been successful in our respective debut matches. However, upon further reflection, it seems this whole mini tournament is tailor made for you. After all, you followed your Pro Wrestling Valor boss here and cost him a shot at the Anarchy championship. It seems this whole thing was a ruse, a mere test of mettle to see if you are worthy of earning a shot at the very man you came here to take down, Justin York.”

“I may not be arrogant, but I do know that if any man is fit to test the fortitude of one looking for glory, it’s me. I used to be someone you could describe as laid back, perhaps even lazy in the eyes of some…carefree. Now, I’m calm like a bomb. From the ouside looking in, it’s a subtle difference, but I’ve lived a thousand lives since I left this world. I have evolved and beneath the surface something simmers. There is a darkness that lives just below the observable being. I let it out when I please. I am controlled. What you witnessed in my match with Marigold was but a glimpse, just a sample of my pent up fury. I am not here for fun or sport, I am here to conquer. So, you happened to come into the same profession as your father by different means. You began young and you are already a seasoned veteran at a young age. This time I get to show what I can really do. I got to play with toys, instruments of destruction last time and I deftly delt with that drunkard Frances. I will give you all the respect that your experience deserves, while also understanding my own strength and that XWF is the benchmark for success in this business. Will you rise to the occasion and grab that brass ring, one step closer to facing Justin York for his title, or will my quiet rage wash over you and leave you lying? Let’s find out. Mr. Keeton, shall we dance?”

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Chapter II: Loss
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