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**Vincent Lane** · (05-16-2017)

"Yeah, yeah, you got it, dude. For sure."

Vincent Lane is sitting at his desk. The vape pen is tossed aside dejectedly as he tamps out another cigarette into a makeshift ashtray that looks like it may have began its life as a whisky tumbler.

His shaky fingers eventually succeed in flipping open a Zippo and lighting up a new cancer stick. He peers into the black pack of American Spirits, sees there are none left, then crumples the box in his hand and tosses it into a waste basket next to his desk. All of this happens while listening intently to the call coming through his bluetooth headset.

"Yep, it's all set. I talked to Mr. Save already and I told him I'd get what he wanted. I pushed it through. Gilmour will be there."

At this point, to the surprise of everyone near the office other than Lane himself, XWF Newcomer Nathan Lucas strolls into the room. Vincent smiles and looks the man in his luchadore attire up and down.

Roxy Cotton, the ever attentive head secretary of the XWF CEO, totters in behind Lucas as quickly as anyone can in a pair of six inch stilettos.

"Vinnie! He walked right by, he didn't sign in or even say anything! I called Tommy..."

"No need, babe."

"What? We don't even know this guy!"

Not a moment later, Tommy Gunn arrives on the scene with a fat cigar clenched in his teeth and a modified AR-15 designed to shoot suppression rounds rather than bullets. He gently moves past Roxy before raising his weapon to Lucas.

"Face or dick? You choose."

"Tommy! Dude, it's fine. This is all fine. Big misunderstanding. This is a business meeting, not a terrorist attack. You can put that thing away, dude."

Vincent has placed himself between Nathan Lucas and Tommy by this point, holding his hands plaintively in the air. Gunn lowers the AR-15 and a look that can only be accurately described as disappointment floats across his face.

"Alright, boss. My mistake. Miss Cotton?"

Tommy makes a hat tip gesture to the vivacious blonde, though he has no covering over his military style haircut. Roxy flushes a little before looking into the office and scowling at Vincent.

"It wouldn't have killed you to put this on the itinerary, Vinnie. I was scared."

Lane doesn't answer. He just waits while the bombshell backs out of the office, waving her hand in irritation through the cloud of smoke Tommy Gunn has left behind. As soon as the door closes, Vincent turns to his guest.

"SO sorry, dude..."

"Looks like your secretary almost got that poor man killed."

"What? Tommy? He's my personal bodyguard, dude. Maybe the best I've seen. I'm just glad I stopped him before..."

"Before he got his arm broken and was then force fed his own rifle? I agree. That would have put a strain on our relationship."

Vincent quietly stands, facing Lucas. A long moment passes as neither man budges or attempts to fill the silence.

Eventually, it's Lane that breaks.

"So. Nathan Lucas, huh, Save? Couldn't think of anything more fitting for that Lucha outfit?"

Nathan Lucas, AKA Mr. Jean Save, AKA who knows what else, chuckles and walks toward the large desk where Vincent had been sitting until a few moments ago. He looks at the light on the office phone, blinking on line three.

"It doesn't matter what they call me this week or next, Vincent, you know that. I thought I'd have a little fun and go with an homage to a friend. You don't think I should have to say 'Mister Jean Save' every time I introduce myself, do you? Or any time that buxom ring announcer of yours has to declare me a winner? Who's on the line?"

Vincent's face betrays startled surprise. How long had the call been on hold?

"Shit!"

He presses a button on the keypad, leaning over his desk with both hands bracing him above the whisky glass/ashtray.

"Johnny? Johnny, you still here? Fuck me, man, I forgot he was there while all that shit was going on with Rox and Tommy. He's gonna be pissed."

"Don't worry about Johnny. I'll talk to him. He was mostly concerned with you holding up your end of the bargain, at any rate."

"What, the Top 50? Gilmour? Those are in the works, no worries there. I've already got Pete on the Savage show coming up on May 29th. He doesn't know he's facing you yet, but it shouldn't matter."

"Good. I'll introduce myself to him on Saturday."

"This Saturday? He's facing the Television Champion Thomas Nixon in the main event. Are you even on the card?"

"No, of course not. I got my warm up out of the way with that scrub of an 'outlaw' you fed me. I haven't seen Gilmour with my own eyes in quite some time, I want to take a closer look. For the memories. You understand."

Vincent looks apprehensive, but he nods after a tense moment. He then reaches into a desk drawer and retrieves a bottle of Grey Goose along with two glasses. He fills each of them about halfway.

"I do understand. It's a good time, I think, to maybe lift the veil a little. It won't be any fun if Gilly thinks he's just got to fight some XWF rookie he's never heard of. He'll just call you a

a bunch of times and tell you what it's like in Los Angeles for 45 minutes. Then he'll probably fuck his girlfriend or whatever, I don't know."

"Rose?"

"Who? No, no, her name's Maria. Or Mia. There's a couple of them, it's all really weird and kind of gross, honestly. But if he knows your real name, not Nathan or Jean, then he'll blow a fucking gasket. It's ratings gold, honestly."

"And what will the Kings think? Are you sure you want them to have that kind of time to prepare?"

"Fuck them. Theo isn't preparing, he never has. He sits in that office for six hours a day playing on his cell phone and drinking. Well, he did drink. I borrowed this glass off of his desk after he wandered out for lunch earlier. Speaking of drinks..."

Vincent lifts one glass of vodka, sliding the second over the desk toward Lucas.

"I'm not thirsty."

Vincent, having already drained his glass, shrugs and takes the second to his lips as well.

"You look unhealthy, Vincent. Your eyes are sunken. You look... sticky. Are you ill?"

Vincent finishes the second glass and starts to unscrew the bottle top again.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Still hitting the gym every single day after leaving the office. Training hard. I'm working with an entirely different team this time around, everything is completely hush hush. Not even Roxy knows."

"Your secretary?"

"My fiance."

Lucas turns to look out of the glass partition separating the office from the reception area. He sees Roxy leaning over her desk and chatting with Tommy Gunn still, her bountiful bosom nearly spilling from the purple top.

"Not bad, Vincent."

"Thanks. So yeah. No one knows what's happening except for you, me, Johnny, and Shane, of course. Sort of."

"Sort of."

"Yeah, like I said, I played it a little close to the vest, but he trusts me. And I'm trusting you. This has to go off without a hitch."

Nathan Lucas/Mr. Jean Save walks to Vincent and gets very close to him. Their noses are nearly touching as the two men both stoically refuse to back down. This time it isn't Lane who buckles under the weight of the silence.

"You have nothing to worry about, Vincent."

Lucas holds out a hand, and Vincent Lane shakes it. Lucas then turns and leaves the office as Vincent pours himself a third straight vodka.

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