526 feet above ground, Tony Santos is seen sitting on a ledge overlooking the San Francisco Bay. Cars zip by behind him, their headlights making the view from above look like a bunch of ADD-addled fireflies zipping up and down the four-and-a-half mile Bay Bridge. The commotion at Tony's back is counteracted by the calm at his front. Looking out in to the San Francisco Bay, a handful of small boats can be seen floating along the water. Oddly enough, a trend in this portion of the City by the Bay is to string Christmas lights, usually white but sometimes green and red or even multi-colored, around the top and edge of one's boat. It makes for an easily visible boat, while also providing both useful lighting and a bit of flair to a tranquil cruise across one of the most picturesque areas in the country.

Sitting next to Tony is The Kid, Jeremy. For those who don't remember, Jeremy is a student at Boston University, and he was fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on how you look at it) enough to spend the Summer of 2013 as Tony's intern. Basically, he had the chance to ride along with a fresh XWF talent, viewing his way of life and learning about the craft of film-making (which just so happens to be his major in school). Jeremy, a thin Caucasian of average height, sits on the ledge next to Tony, his short, brown hair blowing in the breeze. The Kid's legs dangle as tries to keep his brown flip flops from falling in to the water below. While one would normally expect this sort of behavior to cause alarm amongst travelers passing by, thanks to the suicide monument that is the Golden Gate Bridge not too far away, all attention is usually pushed over there, while the Bay Bridge typically sits in the bay as its unmonitored step-sibling.

Jeremy: So, why are we here, exactly?

Santos: It's been a long time, kid. I've missed you. I just figured, you know, why not just sit and catch up? Look at this place, it's gorgeous. There's no better place to catch up than on a bridge over one of the most scenic spots in the entire country. Why not just soak it in with me for a bit?

Jeremy stares out in to the distance, his palms planted on their respective sides of the ledge.. Looking out in to the distance, Jeremy nods in agreement. Jeremy and Tony had, completely coincidentally, managed to run in to one another while walking in opposite directions on the same sidewalk of the bridge. What were they doing there? Tony wasn't sure, exactly.

Jeremy: You're right. It's just been a long time, you know? You and I, a year or so ago, were running around Boston. Remember that? Me and you. I, your intern, ended up learning nothing about the film industry or about how to capture moments on camera, while you pranced around as a faux-celebrity, drinking excessively and created messes that I had to clean up. Excuse me if I never expected our reunion would be a peaceful chat while dangling our weight 500 feet above the San Francisco Bay.

Santos: I'm a changed man, Jeremy. I'm tempering that side of me. I'm drinking less and trying to find myself.

Jeremy: Are you still smoking?

Santos: Well, yes...

Jeremy turns his head to Tony, squinting as he looks directly in to Tony's pupils.

Jeremy: How much per day? One pack?

Tony smiles.

Jeremy: Two packs??

Tony's grin gets larger.

Jeremy: Oh god, sir. Three packs???

Santos: Fifteen, kid.

Jeremy's head jolts backward, stunned at this revelation. Fifteen packs?! How can any mere mortal withstand three or more without succumbing to lung cancer, let alone fifteen!

Jeremy: What?! Fifteen packs, sir?! Fifteen packs of cancer sticks?!?! Do you literally just sit and smoke all day long?! How are you holding up without a cigarette now if 300 are what you need to make it through a day?! Have you already smoked 300 today?! Tell me you misspoke!

Tony's head snaps sideways as he slightly loses his balance. Catching himself on his left side, Tony cringes as the left side of his body experiences a sharp, piercing pain. He groans audibly for a moment as he clutches his left kidney with his right hand. Jeremy, seeing this, looks at Tony with a hint of suspicion.

Jeremy: Sir, are you...

Santos: Uh, yeah, kid, I'm fine. Just a slight pain in my side. It's a stupid son of a bitch that seems to appear a few times a day at random. It's like I have a bull running around my insides, and he randomly sees blood and charges at the walls of my body with a god damn vengeance.

Tony collects himself, straightening his back and placing his hands, palms down, back on the ledge. He looks behind him at the cars zipping by while eyeing an attractive female cyclist as she rides by in the California night.

Santos: Nothing I can't overcome though, kid. My everyday activities are pushing me closer to the brink, but god damn it, I've overcome them one by one to this point. Nothin's gonna keep me from doing the same for the next 40 years.

Oh, and yeah, I misspoke. It's three.

Jeremy: Three what?

Santos: Cigarettes.

Jeremy: You mean three packs?

Santos: Three shots.

Jeremy's mouth curls in confusion.

Jeremy: Sir, wha...

Santos: Picks. Packs. Three stacks.

Jeremy: Sir, are you okay? It might be best for us to get you back hom...

Tony lifts his hand up to Jeremy's face.

Santos: Jeremy, remember the time I treated you to dinner over at, what was that place? In Davis Square? Fuck, that place with the cute Mexican waitress.

Jeremy: The Burren?

Santos: Yes! The Burren! Well, that time... that time. I'm sure you remember how I asked for a vodka and tonic, even though I don't like vodka or tonic. Well, do you remember what I did when I got that drink?

Jeremy sighs.

Jeremy: Yes, sir. You slapped the drink out of the woman's hand. The glass shattered on the ground, alcohol everywhere. The woman, when she attempted to clean it up, cut her hand open and had to be taken to the hospital to get stitches. Oh yes, sir, I remember that night vividly.

Tony smiles. However, this isn't a relaxed, sarcastic smile. Tony's eyes bear down on Jeremy's. Tony scopes out the two, light blue rings that encase the lens in which Jeremy sees the world. Tony checks out Jeremy's unfazed, exhausted expression. Jeremy had seen this from Tony countless times: Tony would start somewhat calm and coherent. After a short period of time, he'd start tip-toeing in to his own personal la la land, before coming back to Earth. However, this momentary return to sanity would soon lose out in a tug of war with his bad conscience, and next thing you know, Jeremy would find himself waiting the moment where he had to catch Tony from falling. Their reunion could be the moment where Jeremy would literally need to keep Tony from falling.

Santos: Well, kid, here's the lesson from that moment. The lesson is this: face the things that make you uncomfortable. Whether they be people, challenges, inner demons, whatever, face them. Then, when you do, slap that motherfucker so hard you break it. Fuck them. You gotta break them before they break you. That was the enduring lesson of that night. Hell, most of our time together were moments... teaching moments. Kid, I was trying to translate my struggles in to life lessons for you. I may only be a few years younger than you, but I've been through shit that I want to make sure you don't make. I've battled demons that I never want you to grapple with.

I've fought struggles that are still fighting back.

Kid, those three months with you were some of the best months of my short life. You provided stability, and I provided, well, me. And it's getting better, kid. I've faced some tough motherfuckers. They've slapped me, and I've sure as hell slapped back...

Tony is suddenly taken aback by a striking pain in his side again. He groans louder than before, the left side of his body curling in to an awkward "C" position. Tony claws against the rough side of the ledge, looking to confuse his body by causing pain elsewhere in his body, hoping to deflect attention from the pain on his insides.

Jeremy: Sir, are you okay? Sir? We need to get you home. Actually, no! We need to get you to a hospital.

Tony rolls over on his back. As he opens his eyes, he looks up the starry (as starry as the night sky can be when you have light pollution corrupting it) sky. His eyes bounce from star to star, tracing imaginary shapes in the galaxy above. He takes his finger, places it on the moon, and traces a rigid heart, his finger acting as a makeshift wand. As some clouds above hover slowly from right to left, Tony takes his hand and gently pushes them across the night sky. This was Tony ignoring his own pain as he made the world work for him. No amount of sheer terror or force could sway him...

Santos: Don't you worry, kid. I'm just fine. Just gotta walk this one off...

Then, a wave of red appears from the top of the night sky. This wasn't a mist or plume... no, this was deep, thick, tomato juice red. It flows through the air, consuming the stars and the moon as it makes its way through. Tony blinks, which repels it upwards, but only momentarily. Soon, it's moving at a faster pace. The moon, having been coughed up a moment prior, soon finds itself back in darkness. Jeremy, looking at Tony, shrieks.

Jeremy: Sir! Your eyes! They're...

Silence.

Tony lifts his hands upward, hoping to swipe at this sea of red. It's all fruitless.

Santos: Kid. Kid... I might need that help after all...

Still, silence.

Santos: Kid?

A few seconds pass, and still, nothing. Tony rolls left, then catches himself before falling off the ledge. He rolls right, catching himself before falling in to the sidewalk. He lifts his head with the little might that he has, and he sees nothing in the portion of his view that is visible. No passing cars. No cyclists. No pedestrians. Most importantly...

No Jeremy.

Tony rolls left, but he rolls left just a little too hard. Tony feels his weight begin to drop. He flails his right hand desperately, hoping to once again grab on to something in the off chance that he can avoid plummeting to his own death.

Nothing.

Tony's body helplessly flails toward the water. His eyes open wide, Tony can only see faintly beneath him. As he makes his way closer and closer to perhaps the biggest belly flop known to man, he notices something poking out from above the water. Since time is moving at the speed of a Jon Plex promo, he has plenty of time to observe this object. As he makes his way closer and closer to the water, it becomes clearer: this object has a point to it, and a relatively sharp one at that.

Was this a rock? No way, not in the middle of the bay.

Was this Peter Gilmour's dong? No way, it was far too pronounced and noticeable to be anything resembling Peter's appendage.

Was this a...

SPLAT

Yup, a needle, making its way right through Tony's kidney.

Then Tony wakes up.

The scene fades to black.

September 2013 and May 2019 Star of the Month
1x Hart Champion
1x Television Champion
1x Xtreme Champion