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**Vincent Lane** · **04-01-2016, 06:00 PM** "Loverboy" - House of the Rising Sun -->

“Don’t say anything else to them, Vinnie.”

She came into the interrogation room like a storm, the wind from her movement fluttering the papers spread across the table in front of the detective.

“What took you so long, Bevin? I thought I was going to be here until sunrise…”

The long-legged brunette moves swiftly past the detective and sits down next to “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane, placing a slender leather attaché case onto the desk in front of her as she crosses her nyloned ankles and smooths down the front of her form-fitting business suit top.

“Traffic, what else do you think? But don’t worry, Vinnie… I’ll get you out of here.”

The case opens and a manila envelope is taken out, then unfastened and opened. From inside the yellow paper, the woman pulls several large, glossy photos.

“What is this, ma’am? And who are you?”

“Bevin St. Claire, I’m representing Vinnie Lane.”

The detective snickers.

“You’re a lawyer? You look like an employee from your client’s club.”

The two police officers share a misogynistic laugh between them, but Bevin does not let her composure lapse.

“How do you think I paid for law school?”

The tension in the room is amplified with the smirk on Bevin’s face as she continues to organize the photos from her briefcase, sliding them across the table to the investigator.

“As you can see, detective, you’re holding my client here for no reason. He’s committed no crime, and he had nothing to do with the tragic death of Dani Cotton.”

The detective looks through the photos slowly. Without looking up from them, he speaks in a derisive monotone.

“You’re aware that Mister Lane’s DNA was found in copious amounts on the victim?”

“Yes, and I’m also very well aware that Vinnie has explained that several times in exhausting, albeit titillating, detail. I also know that his fiancée, the victim’s sister, will fully corroborate his story.”

“These pictures… they’re of you.”

“Yes, they are.”

She smiles.

“As well as the suspect.”

“Yes.”

“And what appears to be Roxy Cotton. Correct?”

“Yes, exactly. And you can see the date stamp in the corner, can you not?”

The detective studies the dates.

“The last known sighting of Dani Cotton alive, when she left the apartment of Vinnie Lane and allegedly went to the beach.”

“Exactly. The pictures, and dozens more just like them, show an iron clad alibi. Mister Lane could not have abducted and killed Dani because he was with me and Roxy all night.”

“It looks like he more than likely got his DNA on you as well.”

“He certainly did.”

Loverboy and Bevin exchange a knowing grin as the officers are left to marinate in the awkward moment. The detective coughs and leans forward, his focus renewed.

“Vinnie, listen to me… this DNA on the victim’s body is actual, physical evidence tying you to a murdered woman. There isn’t a shred of evidence that anyone else touched her. How do you explain something like that? If you’re telling the truth, then how is there no trace of this other assailant on the body, but your DNA everywhere? If he cleaned her off, did he just leave your trace evidence alone? You see the dilemma with that, don’t you?”

“Well, dude, I…”

“Don’t, Vinnie. Let me speak for you.”

Bevin pats the back of Loverboy's hand with her own, giving him a reassuring nod. Loverboy cedes and settles back into his chair, allowing Bevin to turn her attention to the detective in full.

“Detective, there hasn’t been any evidence physically linking victims of the Magic Man killer to Reginald Murphy at all, has there?”

“No, there has not.”

“And there was also not any DNA of anyone else, correct?”

“No.”

“The way Dani Cotton was assaulted and killed. Her abduction, her rape, her murder, and the presentation of her body… these things are all basically identical to the Magic Man killings, aren’t they?”

“I’d say the presence of another man’s semen on the victim suggests otherwise.”

“And I would say that you see an opportunity to be in headlines by arresting a celebrity.”

Loverboy gasps loudly when Bevin says this, and he starts to rise from his chair, pulling the chain tight against the table so that it rattles and the wood creaks. Bevin puts a hand on his arm and manages to keep his in his chair.

“Holy shit, dude! You’re right, Bev!”

“Settle down, Vin.”

The detective looks at the other officer in the room, who loosens his tazer from his belt and steps toward Loverboy with malice in his eyes.

“Mister Lane, I advise you to relax.”

“I advise you to stick your advice up your ass, dude! This is all bullshit and I should have known from the start that you were just another starfucker trying to get his fingers on my fame. You’re just another fuckin’ asshole in a suit trying to take away everything I’ve had to fight for my entire life, dude! I’m not letting that shit happen!”

Loverboy’s fist slams into the tabletop, prompting the officer to step forward again and brandish the tazer. Bevin leaps from her seat and stands in front of the officer, holding her hands palms-out in a submissive gesture.

“Stop! Listen, officer, my client is obviously very agitated. You’ve had him in this room all day, he hasn’t been able to make sure his fiancée is safe and well, and you’ve falsely accused him of rape and murder. We have shown you alibi evidence and completely taken away the credibility of your DNA evidence. You need to let Vinnie Lane walk out of here with his dignity and dedicate your time to tracking down Reginald Murphy, the actual criminal here, whom you allowed to abscond from your custody.”

The detective shifts his weight in his seat, looking towards his fellow officer who seems to stand down.

“Vinnie… I admit, your presentation is interesting. You… have what appears to be an alibi, which looks like it was a hell of a good time.”

“It was.”

Bevin covers her mouth as she tries to stifle a laugh, blushing slightly. Loverboy locks his gaze on to the detective and they stare into one another’s eyes for long moments, until finally the detective looks away and calls to the second officer.

“Officer Franklin, take the cuffs off of him. But Vinnie… I’ve got my eye on you.”

The officer pulls keys from his waistband and releases Loverboy from his bonds. The megastar stands and rubs his wrist, smiling.

“Everyone’s got their eyes on me, dude. Watch me this weekend along with millions of others… including you I hope, Bev?”

The two start to head for the door together, Bevin smiling up at Loverboy, who looks like he just won the lottery.

“Of course, Vinnie… even though you never called me after we hung out until today.”

“Yeah… uh… my bad on that, dude. I just remembered you were a lawyer, and that you were a fan. I didn’t even remember that it was the same night we were together, man. Or the pictures, to be honest.”

“Well. You know. You ARE worth a little money.”

Loverboy’s jaw drops as the two walk out of the interrogation room together.

One more time with feeling.

Oh, dude, there’s a lot feeling in the air too, isn’t there? Like the smell of ozone right before it rains, you know? The days leading up to Shove It are electric.

Why?

Because once again, the greatest living athlete in the world is going to get his dues. Once again, the greatest professional wrestler to have ever lived is going to win a title. This one, though, is almost like a confirmation. A coronation, to be sure. “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane is going to officially become what I’ve already been for the last 18 months… the king of the XWF. Fitting that it’s one more title I get the privilege to take away from Doctor D’Ville, isn’t it? It’s like kismet, dude.

Let me tell you what the crown means to me. The Crown of the XWF is a lifetime achievement award. It’s a star on the walk of fame. It’s more ink in the history books. No longer will you hear about this group of Kings that are allegedly on a higher level than the current members of the XWF. No more will names like Theo Pryce or John Samuels or John Madison get thrown around in whispers when people talk behind my back about who the rightful name should be at the top of the all-time best list. No more, dude. And do you know why? It’s simple really… there has NEVER been a two-time Universal Champion who also held the Crown. EVER. My resume simply outweighs everyone else’s after this weekend, dude.

Who could possibly have more of a claim as the best of all time after I win the King of the Ring Crown this weekend? Not my opponents, that’s for sure. Rebel Star? Please. She’s just exactly what she was created to be… a prop. A piece of furniture in the background of someone else’s story… MY story. Rebel Star is just lucky she gets to take home a main event paycheck one time in her XWF career before she gets sucked back down the ladder to where she belongs, spending her time trying to overcome losers and wannabes like Chris Macbeth and Mike Emerick and fuckin’ Ghost Ta… nah, Tank would get his jobby ass handed to him by Reb, at least.

But without my name sparkling across the marquee like a fireworks display on New Year’s Eve, Rebel would just be rolling around on the mat for a meaningless match and a meaningless, empty crown. Why, you say? Why is it empty ad meaningless if I just described how much it matters? Simple, dude. I MAKE it matter that much. I make EVERYTHING matter. Without me, everything in the XWF is hollow. Look how steep the decline is in talent after me. It’s a sheer cliff face dropping right out of sight until you get to the next tier of guys like Fernando or Trax or Luca.

Yeah, Luca. He’s that far below me that I can hear my voice echo when I shout down to him. This week is a perfect example of that, dude, look around… where is he? Where’s Luca? Oh, he’s off taking the safe bet and worrying about holding on to his tag team titles, because he knows that Austin Fernando can help him hide his flaws in the ring and bail him out when he gets in trouble. When it comes time to bank on himself, alone, and hold himself accountable, Luca Arzegotti is nowhere to be seen. He’s as imaginary as Peter Gilmour’s dick. And speaking of Peter Gilmour, guess who has to not only win the Crown this weekend but also defend the greatest prize of them all MY Universal Championship, against Gilmour just a few days later? See Luca, sometimes when you’re in the spotlight you have to pull double duty without folding under pressure. You don’t see me just resting on my laurels and putting in no effort for the Crown just because the title match is more important, do you? No, instead I’ll make history by winning the crown and defending the Universal Title within the same week. Another accolade for the best of the best, huh dude?

See… that’s the thing about the spotlight. The spotlight isn’t friendly, dude. The spotlight isn’t your friend. It’s hot and unforgiving and it takes all the shadows away, revealing every flaw you’ve got. People like Luca melt under the heat. People like Rebel get exposed. People like me though? People like me, we thrive.

The only problem is, there ARE no people like me. There’s only me. The megastar. The Universal Champion. The KING of the XWF.

Get used to it, Luca and Rebel… you’re just going to be peasants in my kingdom in just a couple of days.

You may not like it… but you’ll learn to love it.

XOXO

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