Step 4: Search within and confront the things that torment you. 

Looking up, Ned attempted to get a view of Amelia. Her meeting was about to conclude shortly, so Ned was preparing himself to attempt convincing her that he’d be a good fit as a sponsor. Unfortunately, he wasn’t particularly certain about that himself. His mind drifted to the upcoming match in Coreytopia, a commune owned by Corey Smith, a man Ned shared a great deal of history with. He predicted Corey’s fall into becoming “The Engineer,” a dreadful personality implanted in him by forces too wicked to be worth naming. He remembered seeing “The Engineer” scar his best friend, the blood pouring down his face. The humiliation of falling to that evil and then the shame of emulating it with his breakdown as The Nefarious One.

Even though he knew the two weren’t one and the same, all he saw when he closed his eyes was Corey’s face, twisted into a perverted smile. Now, he had to walk up to a woman and convince her getting better was attainable, but Ned struggled to believe that sometimes. He looked down at his hands and for a brief moment, he saw blood, caked and cracked, coating his palms. He blinked the vision away, downing a small, white styrofoam cup of water as the meeting dismissed. The various members began to depart, none quicker than Amelia Carter. Her hair bounced slightly as darted towards the exit, only to be interrupted by the sound of Kaye’s voice.

“One moment, Amelia,” Ned said, causing her to freeze somewhat, her body tensing with some cocktail of anger, disgust, and despair.

“How many times do I need to tell you people,” she responded, swinging her body around with a strained smile, “Amy's fine.”

Her features scrunched slightly as she laid eyes on Ned, recognizing him from the prison and inspecting his features.

“Well, Amy,” Ned corrected himself, holding out a hand as he spoke, “I was told that you were in need of a sponsor and I thought I might at least see if you’re interested. My name’s-”

“I know who you are,” she cut him off, rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath, “I cannot fucking believe this…”

“You do?”

“Duh,” she responded, leaning against the wall and propping a foot up to balance herself, “you’re that hometown hero wrestler guy. Cuz’ you’re a local, people blab about you a lot. Ned Kate, right?”

“It’s Kaye,” Ned corrected, getting awarded a dismissive wave of her hand for the politeness.

“That’s basically what I said,” she impatiently placed her hand on her forehead, “fine. Sure.”

Kaye gave her a confused look.

“You wanna be my sponsor? Fuckin’ go for it.”

She once again tried to depart, her patience for her surroundings entirely drained. Unfortunately for her, Ned stepped in her way.

“Oh, what now?!” She pouted, throwing her arms into the air.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean. I’m not telling you. I’m asking you’d like me to sponsor you,” Ned declared, prompting another palm of Amy’s to meet her face.

“You know what I’d like, Ned? If everybody stopped acting like I needed this! I’ve been through five of these idiots; they line up at me and nothing changes. One tries to get me to follow some lady’s big method of getting better, one swears she knows everything. One of em’, hedidn’t give a fuck about me, he just saw me as some charity case to make his little feelings better! And he was almost as bad as the woman who swore stones could cure me if I put happy little words on them! You know my favorite one, though? The guy who didn’t bother to show up! My problem is you people assuming that you’re gonna fix me! YOU DON’T KNOW A THING ABOUT ME! So, you wanna take a swing at old Amy, try and fill out your resume? Be my fucking guest, but don’t you think for one second that I want a part in it.”

He looked at her, his expression becoming more stern as he stepped out of her way.

“Fine,” he said, “go on.”

She hesitated. Normally, she waited for her father to pick her up, but he hadn’t spoken to her since she got arrested this latest time. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure why had bothered to show up, but her pause spoke volumes.

“You think I don’t get it? Wanting to just burn everything around you because the thought of trying to get better and failing hurts too much to try? Amy, it sounds a lot to me like your problem is that you don’t know what you want. I saw you get arrested and I saw the heartbreak cover your face when your father didn’t answer. You’re great at acting like you don’t care, but you’re awful at actually shutting your emotions off,” he spoke, staring down at her with every word, a bit of anger bubbling to her surface, but a difficulty to honestly refute any of what he’d said.

“Well, good for you. You know,” she spat, “you know so much! Well, I guess you can just fix whoever with your stupid fucking words!”

“I can’t!” Ned’s voice raised as he stared daggers into her, causing her to back off slightly. Composing himself, he took a deep breath.

“I can’t just make people’s flaws disappear or improve them or save them or whatever you think that I assume I can. But you know what I do, Amy? I try. And if you don’t want to then I’m not gonna lecture you or listen to you shit all over everything rehab stands for. You want to try? Then say the word. But if not, then don’t waste my time. That’s it,” he turned towards the door, beginning to leave as she crudely taunted him a final time.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll learn a lot from somebody who gets his face kicked in for a living!”

He stopped, turning around to face her, giving a slight smirk.

“With all due respect, Amelia, a guy getting kicked in the face for a living seems to be doing better than you.”

He walked out, leaving her standing there, alone. There was an impulse in her to scoff, immediately writing him off, but something in her caused that impulse to wane. As she walked towards the glass door, she noticed something that took her off guard. A vision that she wasn't prepared for. Her reflection. 

And, for the briefest moment, it looked like her.

---

---

---

“There’s an appeal to appearing heroic. Like being a leader, the label carries meaning and respect.”

“But truly being a hero? It sucks. You make hard choices, stare failure in the eyes. The only way you can truly cast a bright light is to understand how far and deep your shadow travels. And today, that’s what I’m here to do. We’re going to again be taking inventory: breaking down my grievances with my opponents in this match and dissecting why I feel the way I do. And, for one of you, this has been a long time coming.”

“For Vagabond and TK, the grievances are really rather simple: effort. They wear the veneer of tough, capable fighters, but they are two of the least involved people in this company and it reminds me of my time as a rookie, relying too heavily on my associations despite my talent. But whereas Vagabond wants to appear impressive without putting his money where his mouth is, On the other hand, TK only ever puts money and value first. He is obsessed with his image, just not in the way people normally expect. He's not painting his fingernails or photoshopping his body- yet, but he manufactures belief because he can't find it in anything. He even had to pretend Jesus resurrected him to stop being as much of a douche. And even then, it wasn’t a huge change."

“But whereas TK is under that delusion, Dolly believes in a whole other school of bullshit. Like, the idea that she has any right to be pointing out moral flaws in anybody. I mean, seriously, this woman’s main hobby is trying to use magic powers to sabotage her opponents. And, frankly, I’m not here to disparage voodoo, it’s the least absurd thing she believes in. Waters is convinced that the world is some place that only is just when she’s getting what she wants. She is entitled to the concept of fate and destiny because she’s rarely capable of getting her shit together long enough. She is the epitome of who I was during the Nefarious Era. Vain, cruel, and acting out just to be certain that she still exists. I won’t ever allow myself to become that person again, Dolly. Under the lights of your self-serving celebration, I will strip victory from your hands to cement that.”

“That brings us to two people, though I’m sure you all know who I’m really about to talk about. See, Ilike Angie, I really do. That’s why I was tough on her when she was shoved into March Madness. It’s why I insisted that she deserved better than her surroundings and I’ve had the displeasure of her promising career stall. And everybody knows why it did. It doesn’t take Socrates to ask the question “why did Angie start plummeting when she began relying on Sarah Lacklan?” Could it be the same reason Kenzi isn't here? Could it be the shit I was talking about back in 2019? It’s easy to call her and I “longtime rivals,” but that doesn’t really mean anything. I work my ass off, I’ve been going through hell and back for years now while Sarah does what? Parades around Anarchy until she can vacuum potential out of another relative? You’re a parasite, Sarah. A bloodsucking tick wearing the husk of reality television. The simple fact is Sarah, that I don’t have to worry about becoming you because I’m nothing like you. I'm not a pompous, entitled brat who uses people up before discarding them or letting them jingle around her neck like a gaudy piece of jewelry. Sarah tosses the same criticisms my way because it’s both all she really has and, deep down she’s just projecting. All she does is go low. Low blows, low substance, low attention span. Your team is a death sentence for those involved, less they be catapulted into the event horizon of the most vacuous human being on the planet. While you were busy fantasy booking yourself into a March Madness win and scrubbing out round one, I climbed my way to the semi-finals. People like to ask if Sarah is a Mary Sue or some other crap. Don't give her such credit. She's white bread. She's Elon Musk buying Twitter. She's everyone who equates wealth with substance and importance. She's Paris Hilton defending a jpeg of an ape on national television. And she knows it. That's why she makes such a big deal out of herself instead of actually walking the walk. The days that Ned Kaye left the XWF were the days that it stopped feeling like modern XWF. The XWF didn't even lose sleep when you dipped out."

“It’s easy to believe that being good is just some innate quality. That it doesn’t require dedication. That it’s just a way to brand yourself. Everyone else in this match hides behind veils or the accomplishments of others instead of stepping forward. Because vulnerability is frightening. Facing your demons means admitting they exist. All of you love the spotlight, but you shrivel up in the darkness. But me? I have been submerged in shadow, nearly eaten whole by it. I get surrounded and judged by my peers every week. What’s the difference in having it in a ring? You all cling to the light; I shine.”

“And at MayDay, your shadows have nowhere left to hide.”

"You can't run from yourself."