**The camera fades up on a church set into an idyllic hillside. From a distance, the only things that spoil the vista are the dark clouds beginning to gather over the spire. The rest of the scene is straight from a postcard. There's lush green grass, a white fence surrounding the churchyard. The bright colours of the stained-glass windows refracting the diminishing light to send starbursts of reds, greens and blues across the winding path that leads from the gates of the churchyard up to main door. Men in pastel wedding attire and women in expensive silken bridesmaid dresses have a spring in their step as they make their way inside. Other guests beam with pride and joy as they await the white Rolls Royce that is making it's way up the road to the front of the churchyard. One man is talking animatedly with another - the first one a powerfully built larger man, his grey jacket straining at his chest as the second straightens his tie. He mockingly smooths down a cowlick on the first man's thick black hair and ushers him inside. The second man, much thinner and fitting the clothing much more stylishly, looks back at the car and smiles, before following the first man through the large wooden door.

The car stops. An older man, wearing the same outfit as the other two, is first to get out. He groans slightly as the years catch up with him, levering himself out of the Rolls' plush seats. He leans back inside and offers his hand to another passenger. Out steps a vision of beauty. She is alabaster white underneath a veil that reveals only the barest hint of a smile underneath it. The most stark contrast from the flowing white dress she wears is her short black hair clearly visible through the veil. She slowly makes her way from the car as two bridesmaids follow her. The older man looks on approvingly and grasps her hand that little bit tighter as they walk inside.

They don't see another man step out from behind the car. Dressed head to toe in black, he's the duplicate of the bigger man who walked inside moments ago - but with more scars, weariness, sadness and anger on his face.

The years have not been kind to Jack Cain**

This is how I like to remember it. Summer's day. Happy people, friends, relatives. Picture perfect.

She was late o' course. She was never early. But I didn't care. I knew she'd be there no matter how late she showed up. That was the important thing. She would always be there.

Times change.

**Older Cain begins to walk up the path, and as he does so, the white Roll Royce fades out of view. The dark clouds begin to grow stronger and take over more of the sky**

Matty was panicking. Said the car musta had a flat and we should go out lookin' for them. But I told him not to worry. I knew exactly where she was, like she knew exactly where I was. So he's there straightenin' my hair and my tie when he sees the car, and he grabs me like I'm playing quarter back for the Jets and throws me inside the church so I don't see her before it starts.

**The scene switches to inside the church. Young Cain is at the alter along with his best man, and the priest carrying out the ceremony. Silence ensues. Instead of the wedding march, all that plays is a single piano stroke, building up to the following**



I remember her walkin' up that aisle. Don't remember anythin' else. It could'a been the end of the world out there and I wouldn't'a cared. At that moment, all that mattered was her takin' my hand and finally lookin' me in the eye as the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.


**Older Cain walks up the aisle. Behind him, the sunlight that's shone through the stained glass windows in a multitude of colours begins to die away. The ornateness of the church slowly erodes, leaving behind it chipped wooden seating, crumbling stone and decaying furniture. He is the harbinger of the dark, with the happy smiling people sitting in the church pews disappearing as the older reflection of the man being married solemnly walks to the front of the crowd.**

That was the happiest day of my life. I felt like I could rule the world that day. I felt like nothin' could touch me. I still remember every word.

‘I, Jonathan Cain, take you, Karen Irons
to be my wife,
to have and to hold
from this day forward;

for better, for worse,

That last bit always makes me think. If things had been better - what would it change?

**Older Cain reaches the end of the aisle and the last of the smiling faces fade away. His younger self, smiling and gazing adoringly into the eyes of his wife, slowly disappears, as does Karen, leaving nothing but pale shadows seemingly burned into the pitted granite floor. He looks around the devastated building, and lowers himself into one of the pews nearby. It creaks under his weight, almost as tired as him after the years of happiness and sadness it's seen. Like him, it's seen too much of the latter.**

Place has changed a lot since then. It's been closed for years now. No one comes here anymore. I still do, every now and again., when I want to remember, but then the pain comes back, and I don;t want to be here anymore. So I leave it as I left it all those years ago - a changed man.

But that last line made me think recently. I saw Mezian on the TV this week, shoutin' about bein' "The Better Man". That reminded me of the last line of those vows with Karen made with me.

Whaddya mean by "better", kid? You really think you know what that means? All I hear is you complainin' that you've been beaten by "The Better Man" - well there must be a lot of them, cos you seem to lose a lot.

Does "better" mean they out thought ya? Does "better" mean they out fought ya? Do all those people have to go to some "deep, dark place" to beat you?

Well here ya go. Here's one a mine. About the deepest, darkest place you can be. Where happiness and joy dies Mezian. You think you know about pain? You think you know about going to the places in your head that others fear to go?

I fuckin' live there son, I spend every fuckin' moment, awake and asleep there. I live in pain and hate. Every. Single. Day.

You wanna know what that's like? Imagine stickin' your hands in fire, and blood, and tryin' to use that to stop the dark takin' over ya head? It gets hot, it gets dirty, and the more you try to get rid of it, the worse it gets.

You can't ever stop that, because it's a force of fuckin' nature. It takes over your soul and drives you to places that people like you think you know, but you cant even conceive of what it's really like.

You think this is anger? You think this is rage? It shows you how much you really know of those places Mezian. Anger and rage are emotional responses. What I do? It's what you do when you get past those emotional responses.

When you're dead inside. When there's nothing left. There ain't nothin' "fragile" about that, kid. It makes you the opposite. It makes you older, but it makes you stronger.

You wanna talk about adversity? You think I ain't gone through anythin'? First day here I won a battle royal and threw out four outta the other five people. Then I won another one. Took Cadryn Tiberius to his limit. Twice. Did the same to Thomas Nixon. Then I beat him and five other guys to win the TV Championship. So don't come crawlin' to me about havin' done nothin'.

I've done enough.

**The wind whistles through the church as Cain rises from the pew and walks back down the worn aisle**

That the wind you hear my name on Mezian? That the message you keep gettin' from your sisters of fate? What's it sayin' to you now? I know what I'm tellin' your sisters Mezian - that you don't have a clue in Hell what you're gettin' in to. You wanna open Pandora's Box and follow me to where I go? Be my guest, but you ain't gonna like it.

I don't know or care if that makes me "The Better Man", I just know it makes me better than you.


**Cain leaves through the door to the church, now a dark, ruined landscape, as the camera fades to black**