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Thaddeus Duke · (01-19-2022)

Several Weeks Ago – Location Unknown

”So I wanna re-purpose everything,” I say to the middle aged man beside me. In front of us on an old wooden table is everything I pilfered from my fathers shrine in the Hall of Legends. His entrance cape, his titles, and laying on the wooden floor is the statue of my father.

”What would you like out of it all?” he asks as he begins removing the gold plates of the championship belts from their straps.

”That’s a good question,” I answer him. ”And I’ve put a lot of thought into it.”

Beside us, a young man in the smiths employ uses a large diamond plate saw to begin cutting the statue into smaller chunks. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I bring up some stored files to show to the smith. ”I don’t know what you can do with the cape, but its not made with quality material. Maybe salvage the hood, but dye it white.

“Discard the rest.”

”Seems feasible,” he comments.

”How good are you with leather work?”

”I can do it all,” he answers confidently.

Showing him the design for my own entrance cape, if you wanna call it that, he stares while pondering.

”I can do that,” he confirms. ”I can mill down the leather straps, repress the leather, mold it just how you want it.

“Want the leather white too?”

”Yeah.”

“What about all the gold plates?”

”Melt ‘em down,” I answer him. ”I want you to mold them into my logo and attach them to the back.”

”Easy,” he says as he picks up a few plates and drops them into a large melting pot. Reaching for the big gold of the Universal, I stop him.

”No,” I say to him. ”Not this one.”

Shrugging me off, he places more of the plates into the pot.

”Don’t you need a mold of the logo?”

”Still have it,” he replies. ”When Heyman had your custom belt made.”

”Oh right, I forgot about that.”

Holding the center plate of the big gold in my hand, I run my fingers over the intricate details.

”Only one of us ever successfully defended this title,” I think aloud to myself. ”I often wonder what might’ve been had I not been distracted by some… complete bullshit goin’ on behind the scenes and out of sight of most.

“He was focused on his goal.

“I was bein’ forced to deal with some shit.

“A lot of it, no doubt my own doing from days that are thankfully long since passed… but… had I not had my attention split, I think I would’ve beat Chris Page.”

”You alright?” the smith asks of me.

”Yeah man… just reflecting,” I answer him before gently laying the Universal title center plate into the melting pot with all the others. ”When can I expect some results?”

”Few weeks.”

”Few weeks it is then.”

January 13, 2022

Charles de Gaulle Airport || Paris, France || 11:59 AM

After abruptly leaving Genevieve Tate at the cafe, I took a cab to the airport. For only the second time in my life, I’m flying commercial. Lauren MacKay and I have been mostly inseparable since we started seeing each other and now something’s happened to her while I’m over here chumming it up with another woman. I’ve had plenty of ‘friends’ as companions since the split with Adi Gold and they’ve all been great. Fact is, I fucking hated Lauren. I thought she was a fucking cunt the likes of which the world had never seen.

I was right.

And I was wrong.

A fucking cunt is what she seems like… until you get to know her a little. People mock and dislike what they don’t understand. It hasn’t been long, but I know Lauren on a level few have seen. Possibly on a level even Ricky Rodriguez didn’t see when they were together.

I hated her so much that I had her muted on twitter. Then I unmuted her. Then I offered her an olive branch and invited her over for dinner with Jennie, Ricky and myself. Then Jennie and Ricky abandoned us… and the rest… I guess… is history.

I’m not sure either of us fully understand it. Going from actual hate for each other to “hate” to inseparable and engaged in short order. I’m not even sure she thinks it was a real proposal. What I have in my pocket says otherwise. People think I’m stupid for getting involved with her. They think she’s using me for my money or my influence. Hell, maybe she is. But I’m a risk taker and I’ve been living on borrowed time since I was 15 years old. Maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s reckless, maybe she is using me. Whatever the case is, I’mma enjoy every minute of it and make her my wife.

”Le vol Delta 1316 sans escale à destination de New York est en train d'embarquer,” says the announcer over the sound system as I reach the ticket desk.

Approaching the ticket counter, I lay my credit card down along with my diplomatic passport and slide it toward the lady standing behind it. ”J'ai besoin d'un billet de première classe pour New York,” I say to her. Suddenly, I feel pretty fluent in French as I order my first class seat.

”Je suis désolé monsieur, cette porte se ferme,” she informs me. Basically, ‘the gate is closing.’ Unwilling to be told ‘no’, I reach into my pocket and pull out a wad of bills. About a thousand Euro’s if memory serves and slam it down on the counter.

”Vous avez un passager de plus. Cette porte ne se ferme pas tant que je ne suis pas sur ce vol,” I argue. Essentially, I told her that gate doesn’t close until I’m on that flight.

Looking down momentarily at the wad of bills I placed in front of her, she looks up at me and smiles. ”Première classe, vous avez dit?” she asks and I nod my confirmation. Quickly, she prints my ticket and hands me my things.

”Je vous remercie,” I say to her. ‘Thank you.’

Quicker still, I rush toward the gate and after a contentious staredown between a guard and myself, I’m ushered onto the plane. No sooner than I take my seat, and the planes engines begin to wind up as it starts to taxi toward the runway. Within a few minutes, Delta Airlines flight 1316 is wheels up for New York.

In flight, I try in vain to get a hold of Lauren with both the air phone and my cell. Every time, it goes straight to voicemail. Aside from Ricky and Seb, even my pleas on twitter have gone unheard and unnoticed.

A few hours in, I get a call from Ricky.

”What up Rick?” I greet him immediately.

”Nothin’ man, what’s going on?” he asks.

”Flyin’ home,” I answer him. ”Commercial.”

”Shit. Must be serious.”

”It might be, I don’t even know,” I admit to him. ”I haven’t heard from her and I can’t reach her.”

”I’m sure she’s fine,” he tries to reassure me.

”Maybe, but until I know, I don’t know and when I don’t know, I’mma worry,” I try to explain to him.

”What happened?”

”I’m not gonna answer that until I can talk to her, hear it from her own mouth… but hey, I need to go. I left my charger at the hotel and I’m down to like 30 percent.”

”Yeah okay, if I hear from her I’ll let you know.”

”Thanks Rick, love you bro.”

”Yeah man, love you too.”

After getting off the phone with Ricky, I sit there quietly just staring out the window at the Atlantic 30,000 feet below. Worrying. Thinking. Overthinking. The first class cabin only has two other people and neither of them are even near me.

”Commercial huh?” comes the voice of my mother, startling me. ”I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

Turmoil.

For as long as I can remember, when my brain is in crisis, that’s when I get these… visits? For years it was my fathers father. Lately, its been my mother.

”It’s okay mom,” I tell her quietly. ”I just wasn’t expecting you.”

”You love this girl,” she presumes.

”Do I?” I question. ”I don’t know what it is.”

”That rock in your pocket tells a different story,” she says before planting a peck on my cheek. ”Not to mention you’re flying commercial.”

”I’m just worried, that’s all.”

”Can you worry about someone if you don’t love them?” she asks, and I hadn’t really considered that.

”I don’t know,” I answer sheepishly. ”I guess maybe not.”

”She’ll be fine baby, as long as you’re with her.”

”Well, I’m not with her right now and I can’t fucking stand it.”

”Can I ask you something?” To which, I only nod. ”What sets Lauren apart from Elizabeth or Addison?”

The question throws me off and I only look at her with a confused look.

”I mean, you were hot and heavy with the mother of your children, until you weren’t,” she elaborates. ”Same with that sweet girl Adi Gold.”

”She was sweet… is sweet,” I answer without really answering.

”Well, what is it that attracts you to someone entirely different? Lauren isn’t anything like Liz or Adi.”

”Maybe that’s the point,” I offer. ”She only feeds my ego and narcissism when she feels like she needs to. Otherwise, she’s challenging my ego and putting me in my place.”

”And you like that sort of thing?”

”I need that sort of thing,” I counter.

”So Liz and Adi didn’t work despite being good and wholesome… but you think Lauren will because she’s...”

”She’s neither of those things,” I say with a chuckle. ”Being good, clean, wholesome… propping up my ego… fuck, that gets boring quick.

“Lauren’s a challenge. And a fun one.”

”Are you done whoring yourself out to half of New York?”

At the moment, I’m embarrassed. As a male, discussing your sex life with your mother, dead or otherwise, is… as Ricky would say… a lottabit uncomfortable.

”You… know about that?”

”Honey, I can see everything.”

”Oh my god… you’re not...”

”Oh hell no! I know when to go away.”

”Oh thank god for that,” I say with a sigh of relief. ”I don’t know, probably,” I answer her. ”I just don’t think she’s ever been with someone like me. As much as she challenges me, I challenge her too.”

”You think she’s done whoring herself out too?”

”I have no idea.”

”Is she capable?”

”I don’t know,” I answer her as honestly as I can. ”If she’ll be good, I’ll be good.”

”Matters of the heart can be tricky,” she advises. ”You’ve always had a pretty good handle on yours, so I’ll trust that you know what you’re doing. That you know what you’re getting into.”

”I know enough.”

”She’s in trouble baby,” she says with sadness. ”Can you help her?”

It takes a moment for me to consider her question. ”There’s nothing I won’t do for her.”

”Even if it means… going back?”

Going back.

I know what she’s referring to.

Do I want to? Not even a little.

Will I do it anyway?

”Absolutely.”

It’s at this moment, that a call comes through on my phone. Fumbling to get a hold of it, I’m not at all relieved to see that it’s Seb, and not Lauren. Sighing with despair, I look briefly where my mother was sitting, almost longing for her to come back.

”Ello mate, you alroight?” I greet my English friend in a British accent.

”...are you mocking me?”

”Absolutely I am,” I say with a laugh.

”Fookin’ wanka!” he shouts back at me facetiously.

”No, not since Lauren,” I joke. ”And all the others.”

”Roight mate, so what’s going on?”

”Honestly, I have no fucking clue. I got a call that was sort of vague telling me Lauren was beaten up pretty good and I haven’t been able to get a hold of her.”

”Mouthy bitch, not really a surprise.”

”Maybe not, but I have reason to suspect it’s not her mouth that got her in trouble.”

”Anything I can do?”

”Nah not really man,” I answer him with a pause. ”If you hear from her or she pops up on twitter though, let me know.”

”Yeah no problem,” Seb characteristically honors my request. ”Where are you now?”

”Somewhere over the Atlantic,” I pause for a beat. ”With any luck this fucker will plunge into the ocean and save me from that human equivalent to a migraine,” I joke.

”You don’t mean that.”

”Nah I don’t, but listen… my phone is about dead and I’m tryna save what’s left of my battery.”

”Yeah, I’ll catch you later mate. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

”Thanks Seb.”

After the call with Seb, I’m positive I fell asleep for awhile because when I woke up, my phone was ringing and my flight was on final approach. When I realized my phone was ringing, I about leapt out of my seat.

It was Lauren.

”Jesus fuck… WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?” I yell out to her through the phone.

”New York Thad, where the fuck else?”

”What happened?”

”What are you talking about?”

”I got a call Lauren, and I didn’t like it much.”

Silence from the other end.

”Tell me what happened,” I insist.

”It’s nothing you need to worry about,” she replies unconvincingly. ”I have it taken care of.”

Silence.

This time from my end.

”I lost my phone and I had to get a new one, that’s why I wasn’t answering your calls.”

”Yeah,” I say, mostly to not be silent. ”I’m landing, come get me.”

”I don’t even have a car,” she reminds me. Gonna change that real quick.

”There’s like seven of them down in the garage, just take one.”

”Alright, what airport?”

”Ummm,” I don’t actually know. I never looked. ”LaGuardia,” I answer after looking at my boarding pass.

Our call ended shortly thereafter. I’m relieved, but at the same time… I know she’s not being honest. The world judges her for her mistakes just like they judge me for mine. Everything is under a microscope. It never matters how much ‘good’ you do because one mistake, one bad decision, one fault in your fabric and that… that’s what people remember. That’s what they harp on. That’s what that salivate to tee off on when it’s their turn at the plate.

Thing is…

I don’t throw underhand and I don’t throw softballs.

Neither does Lauren.

Swing and swing away… watch ‘em all miss.

The world can keep judging her, they can keep judging me.

She needs to know though… I’m not them.

I hate that man.

For several years, I tried not to. I tried and I tried and I tried but the thing I can’t shake is just how despicably evil and cold that man is. See, the fans, they cheer him. Every time he pops up it’s like they’ve forgotten who he is. And I don’t mean the Sebastian Duke that is celebrated as a Legend. I mean the Sebastian Duke that has killed more than once. And not only in the name of war. Not only my mother. There have been others and had I not fought him to keep the crown from his head, there undoubtedly would’ve been a lot more.

Really?

That’s what you like?

That’s what you celebrate?

A murdering fool with average talent?

That’s what gets you excited?

I’m boo’d and hated for kicking Corey in the back of the head and granted, I admit now that was a mistake. Yet that’s what make them hate me. I admit my faults and god knows I have a lot of them, and they hate me for it. Sebastian Duke walks this Earth only because I didn’t want his blood on my hands. That was the biggest mistake I have ever made.

He though… he avoids the topic. He avoids taking responsibility for his actions and he’s cheered and loved for it.

I’ve never been one to hype myself up with false bravado. I’ve lived, I have died, I have made a career, on my emotions and make no mistake at Fire & Ice, there will be a lot of it. He wants to ban Chris Page from ringside. He wants to make certain Corey Smith is there to watch him ‘tear me limb from limb.’

What does that tell you about Sebastian Duke?

Suppose he’s right and he destroys me on pay per view. Formerly estranged and now reunited, he’s gonna force arguably the most popular man on the roster in Corey Smith sit idly by while his friend is annihilated.

That’s who you’re fucking cheering for, XWF Universe.

That’s who you celebrate.

That’s who you put on some fictional pedestal as some god-like figure anytime he shows his face.

I know what I’m in for. I know he’ll hurt me in ways I didn’t think I could. I’ve legitimately never been in the ring with anyone as physically strong and powerful as he is. One choke slam at Bad Medicine taught me that. I’m not a small guy by any means but I’ll be damned if he didn’t pick me up and slam me down like I didn’t weigh more than a sack of fucking potatoes.

If he thinks it’ll be easy for him.

If he thinks that just because I’m smaller than him means that he’ll cake walk me like he did all those nobodies that fill up the majority of his 61 career victories, if he thinks that… he’s already dead. There isn’t anyone I can’t out-wrestle. Him included.

I could have a Five Star Classic with Peter Vaughn’s mop.

These fans… they don’t see it… but I have ‘right’ on my side.

I’m the hero in this story and they’re too… they’re too blind to see it.

Thing is though, you stay in this business long enough and you learn that we’re all the hero in our own story.

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