Managing to sneak away from his hotel room late one evening, David takes to the streets of Paris, hoping in secret to enact something magical. But he knows the difference between flights of fancy and reality. All he will find out here is the same as any city: broken city lights, beggars, and the ever-collapsing brick architecture of the waterfront. It only took him a few minutes to actually make it to the waterfront, but he was relieved to finally arrive. From his position on the bridge above, he could see it all: the full moon reflecting off the gentle ripples in the Seine river below. It was all an incredibly over-romantic scene. His single form, standing like a sentinel over the calm waters below. Barely a soul stirred in the still of the night. David checked his watch. 2:37 AM.

"No," he said to himself. "No one would be awake at this hour to bother me."

With his solitude confirmed, David looked from right to left, making sure he was utterly alone. Never hurt to be too careful. He bent his head low and allowed his two alternate voices to rise to the surface.

"Consider this a group meeting," David announced, straightening his posture and raising his head. Looking and feeling official, David straightened the jacket of his suit, signaling his dominance subtly to his head-guests.

"And what are we to discuss?" emerged Mystica's booming baritone from David's lips.

"Just a general asking of opinion. A state of the union."

"Quite literally a union," Benedict laughed giddily, crafting a pun, much to Mystica's disdain. He scoffed with a snarl.

"To keep things in the idea of business..." Mystica began, but David interrupted.

"We will not be discussing title matches right now," David reminded his darker half of their prior agreement.

"That deal only lasted until Wednesday. It's the wee hours of Saturday morning. I'm not under that deal statute of limitations."

"Big words for a big abomination," Benedict's higher, more feminine voice fired back. "You have yet to tell us your own secrets, so why in the world would we endure your ideas of grandiose?"

"Very well," Mystica oddly agreed, seemingly defeated, or at least acting so. "Away I go. I have no opinion. I don't care about your life, David. You know my role. I am your hatred. I'll be with you tomorrow."

And with that, David felt a dull pain surge through his head as Mystica disappeared back into the rearmost cortexes of David's brain. With the strain of one voice gone, David spoke up to his gentler side.

"So what's your opinion on sentiment?"

"Sentiment," Benedict pondered the word, tapping his chin in thought. "You use the word in such a fond tone."

"Call me an optimist," David simplified with a knowing smile and passing thought of a particular girl of his fancy. "But you've obviously seen what I've been up to from behind these eyes."

He pointed to his own eyes.

"You're doing as you please," Benedict responded warmly. "And that's significant to you, so it matters. It's what you desire. I cannot disagree with what is your decision. This is, after all, not really my body."

David paused, thinking over Benedict's vague wording. When he had finally come to a logical conclusion, he spoke aloud to Benedict.

"So you admit that this body belongs to me?"

"Well of course it does!" Benedict nearly-shouted, his shrill voice echoing across the Seine below, bouncing from concrete wall to concrete wall and off the water.

"So what is it you're...doing in my body?"

"Oh, your little god-friend acts as though I don't already know what his secret is," Benedict said, changing the subject somewhat.

"Wait, you do?!" David asked in earnest. But deep beneath, a secret fear of the truth lingered. Secrets never meant good things were being hidden. No goodness is ever done in secrecy.

"Yes, but it would not be prudent to share it with you," Benedict answered in a stern, almost parent-like voice. "It would be more just for Mystica to say. He doesn't realize what exactly he's done to you."

"Done to me?" David asked. "Done to my memories?"

But there was no response from Benedict. He was gone, back down into the cavern of his mind. He sighed, accepting a defeat of his own.The secret of his past was still a mystery to him, and there he stood: on one of the 37 bridges in Paris crossing the Seine river. This was not the first time he had been on this bridge. But it was the first time he had been upon this bridge with three separate voices in his head, so desperately enamoured with someone, so desperately at war with life.

Achievements

• 1x Tag Team Champion
  
• August 2013 Superstar of the Month (Thank you all so much!)
  
• 1x US Champion
  
• 1x X-treme Champion