OOC: Formatting later due to IRL plans

July 28th, 2019 The morning of Leap of Faith 2019

The sunlight kissed the dew in front of the small hill. Early in the morning, just barely as the sun crept from its place beneath the horizon. Clawing from the depths below to bask the world in its warmth. A blanket of sunshine. It covered Ned’s skin, soft to the touch. Despite the only hill close to the hospital being surrounded by infrastructure, the little bits of green seemed more encompassing from it’s vantage point, the bench he sat forward in not yet soaking in the heat of the day, metal still cool to the touch. He looked over to see his father, slightly recovered from his recent coma.

These moments were rare. Calm. Serene.

The cancer that was eating his father’s body seemed clear across the crevices on his skin, the thinning gray hair atop his head. Pieces of himself missing and more merely waiting to depart. It was difficult not to think of the clock swinging over their heads. The limiting grasp of time looming over them, waiting to snap its fingers like a pair of scissors. Ned had always had to fight for what little he had just to find it slipping away regardless. And yet, his father, David, seemed unconcerned with such thoughts, merely basking in the glow.

His extraordinary grace in the ordinary was something Ned longed to experience.

“I gotta say, it’s a better view than the Lord granted the window,” David noted with a smile.

“Yeah,” Ned said absentmindedly. The entire incident had given him much to think about. Even with his father’s blessing, flying out to London felt profane. An unfair decision that was made because he had promised he would. And it introduced new layers of doubt, uncertainty that tugged at the fraying edges of his confidence.

“You know you don’t have much time before you gotta head out to the airport, right? You shouldn’t just wait on me to be ready,” David once again pushed his son to pursue his dreams. To give the XWF as much of his life as he had been waiting to for ages. He watched his son work himself ragged through heartbreak and addiction only to get to this point.

Only to reconsider.

“What if they don’t accept me?” Ned asked honestly, feeling that doubt overcome him, “Sure, I’m a fun novelty now, but I can’t just be the “indie-kid” or the “happy to be here” guy forever. One day, they’re going to want to cheer for somebody else. And I don’t know if I can be that.”

David’s hand rested on Ned’s shoulder, giving a reassuring smile.

“You know what the right thing is. Stick to that and the rest will come. And if it doesn’t, then you’ll have yourself.”

Ned smiled, nodding as he took in the advice as best as he could. He might not have much, but he had his friends and his fans and his will and all the time in the world to become the legend he wished to be. Tomorrow was ahead of him. And tomorrow held things he could only imagine.

---

July 18th, 2024

Ned awoke in a tangled web of sheets atop his cheap hotel bed, the insomnia assisting in . He’d been able to get to Vatican City easily and early; his empty apartment the most likely location that could feel his immediate absence. He had to cancel a therapy session in order to make the trip on time, but it was the last thing on his mind. As the hum of the unconscious world faded into the background for the waking one. He stood to head over to the bathroom, shoving a toothbrush in his mouth and looking upward at his reflection.

The one thing he had left these days.

Stepping out into the streets brought little in the way of comfort to him. Growing up, his parents were devout Catholic which meant that he had to simmer in its waters for ages. It never connected for Ned. While others had religious and profound experiences, he always could see, but never feel it. And in the pastel pathways of Vatican City, the looming feeling of buildings of such importance beamed down upon him, as if God’s light had decided to pass through a magnifying glass before meeting him. It wasn’t long at all before he had found himself drifting towards something, even if he was unsure where at first.

The eyes of the people there trained on him as he passed. There was a sizable portion of the city that had already taken issue with various XWF talent, but there was a special kind of pain in being associated with the likes of Them No Good Bastards in the eyes of the common denizens as he passed them by. Hate, disappointment, and disapproval filled their gazes, seeing sin papered over his body like ring gear. Perhaps that’s why he drifted towards The Colosseum. A violent place for a violent man. Staring over the elevated walls and into the dust where fighters from ages ago went to die.

There was a silent kinship in its empty space, one that would have overcome Ned entirely if not for a voice just out of his view at first.

“Hey there, Ned-man,” Her voice was slightly gruff, her hair flipped over to one side and her arm around a familiar figure. Slightly withdrawn in the woman’s embrace was one Darcy Ellis. It was difficult for Ned to see them together, to witness Darcy with her new partner, Anna, living a life after him, but it was a passing discomfort.

“Hey,” Ned gave a smile, somewhat relieved to not feel completely judged by a pair of people.

‘Nice to see you,” Darcy added.

It wasn’t long until the three had moved over to the seats of the auditorium, enjoying a small conversation, even though the responses trended towards the brief. Despite his best efforts, Ned could sense the tension remaining amongst them. Anna ran a toothpick through her teeth as she recalled some of the food they had tried on their trip here. After a while, she gestured towards Darcy.

“Hey, hun? I just realized I don’t have any water on me, mind getting some for me? Honestly, I’m kinda drained from the stairs.”

“I mean, if you absolutely need it,” Darcy teased with exaggerated words, quickly picking herself up and heading off as Anna turned towards Ned, giving a sigh.

“You two have to have a talk,” Anna declared, putting Ned slightly off-guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Anna clarified, a little annoyed by Ned’s response, “That she’s been worried sick because you’ve been barely holding it together. And I… I hate seeing her hurt. She doesn’t talk about it a whole lot with me, but you don’t just turn your feelings off for someone because you stop dating them. I’m sure you know that.”

“Yeah,” Ned confirmed, more in tone than in nomenclature.

“Just… do it for her, okay?” Anna spoke, her concern covering her words.

“This trip was your idea, wasn’t it?” Ned asked, watching Anna chuckle a bit.

“You do know her pretty well, huh?”

Ned shook his head, chuckling a bit himself, “You brought your girlfriend halfway across the world to see her ex to make her feel better. Goddammit, Anna, couldn’t you just be an asshole so I could resent you?”

“Hey, she’s a sucker for earnest types.”

“I’m also a sucker for transparency,” Darcy’s glasses glared the sun’s rays, providing an almost sinister look to her eyes as she stood above the two.

“Well, that’s my cue to dip out for a bit,” Anna added, softly grabbing a water bottle from Ellis’s grip. Huffing slightly, though mostly just rolling her eyes, Darcy sat next to Ned.

The silence between them felt natural at this point.

“Is it true that you’re still wrestling banged up?” She asked. Normally, Ned would try to provide some levity with his words or approach. Some level of temperance to the solemn sound of confirmation.

“I am,” he admitted.

“Jesus, Ned, how many times are you going to do this? You just get so obsessed over your work and then you can’t get off it at all! What’re the people who care about you supposed to think when you do all of this over and over?”

“I don’t know,” Ned’s voice shook slightly as he answered, “I’m just… you know that I put my all into this. That I am trying so goddamn hard to be what other people need and want and I can’t just throw that all away because it feels a little hard. I’m the guy who powers through all that! That’s why people look to me.”

“I saw the show, Ned,” Darcy shot back, sadness coloring her voice.

“I wouldn’t call the reception you got “looking to you” unless you meant to also give you the finger.”

Ned’s gaze turned to the colosseum floor once more. How much blood had dried there as people cheered for the deaths of their greatest champions? How little did it matter now.

“You can’t make them love you. Not with every good deed or selfless act or a million jumps off of big objects that trigger your fear of heights.”

“That’s the thing, Darce, I’m not afraid.” Ned replied.

She paused.

“That’s fucking terrifying.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes, seeing the slight hint of despondency in them.

“What do you want? You have spent so much time and energy and life doing things for others. You’re allowed to want something else, Ned. You don’t have to give them everything.”

Ned stared into the sand further, the shattered bone of ages past reflecting in small, glittering pieces spread across the ground, all twinkling towards him. A North star to an open coffin. He stood up, giving her a regretful smile.

“I’m going to be okay. I promise. You have fun with Anna.”

As he attempted to step onward, she grasped his hand, daggers staring into his eyes as her palm tensed nervously. Almost to plead with him to go anywhere else.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, swallowing a dry breath.

“I want to be the person they need.”

Darcy let go, watching as Ned walked up the stairs of the auditorium, departing out of the walls of the colosseum as his spirit lay stuck there.

He didn’t turn around.

---

“Belief is a powerful motivator.”

“It consumes everything we do and everything we are. And for the first time in a long time… my belief in myself has been rattled. People see me, unchanged, and boo. I’m not succumbing to addictions, I’m not going out of my way to hurt people or make a nuisance of myself. I once kicked Chris Page’s face in to applause and yet the XWF fans have begun to feel differently about me.”

“And I don’t understand why.”

“I see the vanguards of this new era, people uninterested in this Federation on its own merits. People like Johnny Bacchus who came here to satisfy a grudge. And why wouldn’t he? Old Bacchus has consistently unfurled spoken word essay on his most hated rivals only to consistently fall to the likes of Pantheon. You didn’t come here for these fans or because there was a hunger in your stomach for the kind of competition out here. You waltzed in to follow a pair of shoes you’ve never been big enough to try on. And I hate to say that because I admire the way you can analyze people, your capacity for breaking down opponents, but you don’t channel it into anything! You’ve spent so much time thinking of yourself as a demon, that you’ll hide the human to keep the monster at bay. You’re the kind of person who can’t spare passion for a love letter, let alone fury for a fight. Reciting impressive diction and embellishing one’s nomenclature means little when a boot hits their chin, yet you sink deeper into thesauruses. From one kid who grew up studying to another: there is no line in any dictionary that can embed you with meaning. With purpose. So your speeches will remain empty calories for those who brush you aside. Odes to the gap in your talent. Tributes to a tin man. I will show you spirit, Johnny, and it’s source is one you can’t find at the bottom of a page.”

“And on the other side of matters, we have Matthias Synn, someone who got a little too into Heath Ledger’s Joker. Someone obsessed with proclaiming the importance of uniqueness whilst emulating every edgy internet nihilist this side of 2013. Here’s the thing, Synn, what you’re seeing in the world is projection. You are looking and finding only what exists within yourself. Not to imply that the world doesn’t have its own issues or ugly elements, but you fixate on them because it means that your view of the world has merit. It means that the drivel you cling to has substance. Sorry, buddy, but recognizing that the world can be an awful place from time to time does not evil make. All of your desire to be a slasher villain has only made your perspective as thin as film. For all the talk you’ve provided, the only point you’ve hammered home is your own naivete. Belief cannot come from its antithesis, Matthias, and all you have is contrarianism.”

“Dionysus is someone I feel deeply conflicted about. I’ve seen you transform into a greater wrestler over time. I’ve watched you truly come into your own as a competitor and a person, yet every step brings with it some truly nonsensical behavior. Become a Television Champion? Get a bunch of “other versions of yourself” to swing by and confound the roster weekly. Get a PPV? Dedicate it entirely to wordplay on your name. Sometimes, Dio, I think you truly only view yourself as your first name with little else to go along with it and that breaks my heart. Every single thing that you’re involved with has something to do with wine or Greek myth. Have a tag team? Call it Chardonnay! Why are you so convinced that you are a parody of yourself? You should be toppling giants and you’re always striking down the one you ought to be. It’s the kind of self-sabotage I’m used to seeing in AA, but tears me up when I see it in my peers. Your name represents you, but it is not all that you are and the more you force yourself into its rigid structure, the less of you remains.”

“And lastly, on the sour note of losing oneself, we find Dolly Waters. I know she has convinced herself that she’s grandmother Misty. I’ve seen all the voodoo, the tarot, the weeks and weeks of occult delusion, but the fact that this company is enabling her delusion is a kind of pain that I know too well. I was right there with you, Dolly. Scared, angry, and vengeful with a booking committee fine with my self destruction as long as it generated some revenue and interest. And I want to only feel sorry for you, but like myself and like many victims, you slotted into the role of manipulator and abuser. One day, the drunken dream will end and you will have to stand across from yourself Dolly. And there is no one who can stand in that mirror for you. You who have concocted a persona to hide behind while the people who love you suffer. Exploiting those who stuck by you because they saw a desperate young woman who needed help and had no idea what she was doing. You want the briefcase to be Universal Champion because it means you don’t need help. It means there’s nothing wrong. It means that when I or Edgar or anyone else in your life or this fed stands up to you and tells you to stop, you can continue hopping along in the mind of a lecherous, bigoted old woman who would feel extreme on NewsMax. Faith begins in oneself and you’ve rejected any notion that you are who you are.”

“And that leaves one person guaranteed to be in this match.”

“Myself.”

“And I wonder if I should be able to win it. If I want the Universal Title or something else. I did everything I could to avoid being thrust back into this position and yet it feels like I have to be here. Either to defend a new champion or rectify one of my greatest failures. I’ve always tried to give the XWF my all and yet I couldn’t when it came to Sebastian Everett Bryce. I fell to a man I should have been able to beat. To keep at bay. A man who is cheered like some great hero when all he does is talk down upon others. No compassion in his voice. That belt is a seat that exalts him further.”

“And it’s a throne I couldn’t protect. And I wonder if pursuing this further will make the fans more sick of me. If I’m betraying my most ardent supporters. To quote a song I heard once: “The question then is whether tis nobler in the mind to be well-liked, but ineffectual or moral, but maligned.” And I know my answer. I know that I strive to be what this company needs. And it needs someone who will set an example even when doing so is thankless. Who will walk a path of justice even if it’s the sharpest against their feet. I think to the Centurions and Steven Coopers and Gators and Robert Mains and Mark Flynns. I think of what will be left of the great company they built for aspiring wrestlers like myself. And I know I’m only a small part of that. Another part of the spinning wheel of progress. One day, I will be forgotten and they will not.”

“But if it means being forgotten to make sure that people can grow up believing in this company, then I will die a thousand deaths. Lose a million names! I don’t do this to please people! I’ve never been the kind to sacrifice my integrity and if that means you want to show up and hate me, then that’s your choice! Because I can handle it. Because I clawed my way out of every hole this industry can toss you in and I’m still here! Because while all of your eyes are fixated on the leap, none of you have focused on the depth. And the depths are where I make my moments rise from bitter ash! I’ve looked at the Last Chance qualifiers and I see people like Peter Vaughn and Bulk Brogan and my tag team partner and fellow champion and I am unphased. Because every day might be my last chance and you will never be able to comprehend that. I am Ned Kaye, who stood when my body failed me. I am Ned Kaye, who kicks out of finishers when no one else has even lifted an arm! I am the man who sees the walls closing in and breaks them so others can walk through them! I am proof that will can move your limbs when strength and skill struggle to continue! So, come to the shows and boo me! You want to throw me away and to the lions like an old toy you’ve outgrown? Then watch the jaws of lions break.”

“I am here to stay. I am this company’s spirit, flickering ever-presently, and burning for a change. For a new dawn in a city where the light shines brightest. I am the last hope when all others fall and hope springs eternal. In a match where we see a failure of self and identity, a failure of belief, and a failure of meaning, I know who I am and what I stand for. I’m not a traveling bridesmaid, an antisocial imitator, a shattered reflection, or a name atop a poster.”

“I am where people look to for guidance. The man who pulled Mark Flynn towards a better tomorrow. Who fought The Engineer even when I had nearly died a few days prior. Who faced fear to win my first Leap of Faith. Who has emerged fearless. In a city of faith, you are facing one of its greatest sources. Disbelief will shroud your views as I lift the briefcase. A sight that your eyes cannot comprehend until it has hit them. I am not merely going to defeat you. You will see what Centurion saw when he lost to me just a few weeks ago. The silhouette of a image you aren’t ready to see. But what will stick with you to your very cores won’t be the moment of my triumph, but the few seconds after. Because you’re not only going to see me overcome all of you.”

“You’re going to believe it.”

"You can't run from yourself."