OOC: Format soon.

February 9th, 2020

11:25 pm

Inside the dusty walls of The Notorious Gym, lies Ethan Davis on a couch, a blanket thrown over him sloppily after he fell asleep. He seems to be sleeping soundly, his faint snores echoing through the gym along with other noises. The muffled cheers of several crowds are heard, emanating from an array of televisions, each with matches from Big D's storied career playing seperately. Sitting across from the videos, illuminated in the fuzzy glow of the CRTs, is Ned Kaye, feet propped up on a box while notebooks lay strewn about around him. He sits, leaning into his chair with face buried into a comic book, paying little mind to the footage on the screens in front of him.

He knew he should be studying for the match. Raven had told him such and the rest of the team had echoed the sentiment. But it wasn't so simple for Ned at this moment. He focused on the words of the book in front of him, drowning out his other thoughts. If he didn't think about it, then it wouldn't bother him. It wouldn't hurt as badly as it did. So, Ned did his best to keep his attention on the fantastical story of good and evil nearly pressed against his nose. But it didn't matter. The feeling came back. The pain resurfaced. The dry feeling in his mouth intensified.

Standing up, Ned quickly shut the TVs off, letting the interior of his gym become even darker. He rushed over to the watercooler, mind immediately racing to find something else to cling to. He thought to his brother, Nate. The man who all but tossed away his job to help Ned keep the gym alive in the midst of all this insanity. Though they had their differences in the past, Nate had shown a great deal of respect to Ned now and that's what counted, right? Ned made a mental note of thanking his brother as soon as he could until his thoughts were once again overrun. His relationship with Nate reminded him of himself and Daniel almost.

The name sent shocks through Ned as he put a paper cup underneath the spout of the watercooler, hand shaking as the water fell into the cup, splashing slightly onto his wrist. He downed the cup, gulping every bit of water as some trickled down his lip and stuck to his beard. After he's finished it all, he refills it, repeating the process with a similar speed, but the dry sensation lingers. Kaye looks over to his friend, passed out from their long trip on the road recently. While Ned had been used to flying around and uprooting his life at the drop of a pin, Ethan was still mostly untouched by the business. Mostly out of the loop. Ethan was a true friend to Ned, the kind he could trust to the ends of the Earth. For a brief moment, Ned thought about where Ethan could be if he wasn't bound by loyalty to him. Was he holding back his friend? As much as he longed for a simple answer, the fact was that Ned wasn't sure. The itch became worse; that drought in his mouth intensifying. He thought about the alcohol Ethan had poured out months before. He wondered if there was any spare vodka, whisky, beer, mouthwash, anything he could get his hands on.

That's when the clarity sunk back into him. What was wrong with him? He had been getting better, staying sober despite temptation crawling towards him behind seemingly every corner. Staying strong when he felt weakest. But here he stood, in the dark of his own gym, desperately thinking of ways to drown his sorrow and defaulting on the one he was most acquainted with. Ned lowered his head, a deep shame cascading over him before he made his way towards the stairwell, telling himself that some clarity might be found on the roof.

As he opened the door to the rooftop, the smell of tobacco affronted Kaye, taking him off guard. He recognized the specific blend because Dewey had practically refused to spend more than half a day without a cigar. Dewey Main sat in a lawn chair, drink at his side, Cuban at his lips. His back was facing Ned, however the man's age must've given him some clairvoyance or at least sight on the back of his skull, seeing as he knew it was Ned there without so much as a glance.

"What happened to the studyin', kid?"

Ned stepped up to Main's side, making sure to stand away from the drifting smoke.

"Couldn't focus."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?"

The Notorious One keeps quiet, the atmosphere feeling notably more weighty that night. As if gravity had decided to loosen its grip on all else just so Ned could be crushed sooner.

"You're tense," Dewey remarks, bringing Ned's thoughts to a screeching halt.

"I'm a lot of things, Dewey, and "equipped to put up with your brand of coaching at this moment" isn't one of them."

"Now, don't get too snippy with me, boy. I can't really coach you until you're over this little slump you're about to drive yourself into again."

"Y'know, I hate it when you trivialize my problems like that."

"And I hate it when you get so caught up into pummeling yourself that you hand your opens a victory. But I guess we both got areas to work on."

"You're well aware it's not like that."

"Oh really? Then what's it like, Ned?"

The two men stare into the other's eyes, the tension palpable to them both. After that brief, intense moment, Ned kneels next to Dewey, looking out on the New York City skyline.

"If I'm being real honest, I don't know what to believe right now."

Dewey turns his attention to Ned, tapping some of the ash of his cigar.

"I guess... I thought Daniel had changed. I saw a lot of myself in him."

With an amused snort, Main interrupts Kaye.

"You and him alike? Maybe you've been eating more of those brownies than you admitted, eh, kid?"

"I'm being serious. It might be easy to shoehorn him off as some asshole and me as some do-gooder, but it's not that simple. Everyone seems to think that doing the right thing is some cakewalk for me, but it's not. I understand the appeal, hell, I've felt it. You think I didn't want to toss him off the top and make it easier for myself? You think it wouldn't be nice to just show up after someone else's hard fought match and just beat them down more for a nice, big belt? Of course it's all tempting, but it isn't right."

"D doesn't seem to give a damn about right."

"Well... I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? He's trying to take your accomplishment from you! That's some slimy shit right there."

"He's only doing it for the same reason I am. We both want to be remembered in this business, despite how guys like us seem to have those who try to forget us as soon as we show up. I just... I thought I'd have a moment to celebrate with my friend about the match he and I knew I was ready for despite the constant badgering of the Fuzzes and Sarah Lacklans of the world. I thought he had some faith in me, but he didn't even trust me to finish my match with MacAlister! I remember him eyeing my 24/7 briefcase, but I didn't see it turning out this way."

Dewey sighs, shaking his head.

"Ned, if you don't come to terms with him not giving one damn about you, then you can consider this little dream you have dead in the water. No title. No XWF. No APEX. Zip. Zilch. Nada."

"I don't think it was all fake to him... I... don't know... I'm not sure if I can cope with one of the few people who have ever shown me respect here or told me I could actually make it turning out to be some opportunist looking to make it big off of the dashed hopes of a rookie. I really, really felt that he was my friend."

"Kid, the guy complained about all of these unfair opportunities others got and yet he thinks he has a claim to your title shot. And, believe it or not, you earned that damn thing! You fought for that title just as much as anyone else and he thinks he can just guilt trip it out of you! You can't let him pull that shit and win, Ned!"

The Notorious One doesn't respond, fixated on the skyline ahead of him.

"Kid... don't tell me you're thinking of just handing that away to him."

"No. There's a lot I'll give up, but not that. That was my last major win while Dad was still here. Friend or not, D's not taking that from me. I worked too goddamn hard for it just to lose it now..."

"Well... I'm sure your Pop is smiling down on you and rooting for you, but your little cycle of self-appointed defeat needs to stop right here and now. D can't face the Ned that struggled against Fuzz or the one that fell to that Overton guy. He needs to face that Ned that fought Robert Main. He needs the Ned that surpassed a fear of heights to touch heaven in front of millions. He needs that Notorious shit you keep tossing aside. Not this normal person you keep trying to be."

Ned scoffs somewhat.

"I'm not normal."

"Well, you could fool me, boy."

"Not sure how. Traveling year round to smack other people on live television for prizes held by the likes of wrestling legends and Satanic sociopaths alike isn't my idea of normal. Spending ever fiber of your being to get good at this business doesn't seem average to me. I don't do this because it's fun, even if I can find fulfillment out of it. There's something deep down driving me. Something I'm unsure if I'll ever understand. This haunting force that compels me to fight through the pain of having my face crushed against a ring apron for little else than a pat on the back and the tantalizing allure of one day knowing it was worth it. That I had cemented myself as being worth it to this craft. That I had proven to myself that being here was a choice worth making. So, no. Whatever this life is, it ain't normal. And it ain't easy."

The two sit beneath the moonlight, the cigar smoke nearly shining under the cool, pale glow.

"You think your "friend" feels that way?"

"I know he does. But, God help me, this is my moment coming up. I respect Daniel, I care for him, but he can have his time later, whether he knows it or not. This battle... I've earned it. And I'm gonna prove it there in front of everyone."

Dewey smiles, nodding a tad.

"That's a good start. But "God help you?" I thought you weren't the religious type, Ned?"

Kaye shrugs, matching Dewey's grin with one of his own.

"Well, I need something to believe in. Even if that's just a God to overcome like the rest of what I deal with."

The two spend some more moments in the dark before heading back inside, the moon still shining brightly.

"You can't run from yourself."