009 [DWF]

I was in the air when it happened, on my way to Las Vegas – three days early for a tournament that I hadn't really wanted to enter in the first place. I'd done it to prove I could. To prove, really, that someone out there might take me seriously. When my flight landed, it was all over the news: Chester Bennington had hung himself. I couldn't help but feel rocked by that, completely selfish ways. Those early Linkin Park albums had meant so much to me growing up. They'd felt like my songs, my anthems, as if blaring them over and over could make the pain stop. And for a while, it did. Or maybe I grew numb to it. The thing that rocked me, though, was the knowledge that twelve hours ago I'd been sitting behind the wheel of my car, holding a gun in my hand, contemplating that very thing. I'd spent a week playing Russian Roulette with myself. If she hadn't been there, if she hadn't come outside and found me – I hate to think what might've happened.

I came back from Vegas on autopilot. Flew out the morning after bound for New York. Don't remember much of it. I could still feel the weight of the gun in my hand. I didn't pull the trigger. I wanted to. I didn't want to. Was it a cry for help? I don't... I don't really want to think about it. The reasoning behind it, the reasoning in front of it – I didn't do it. But one of my heroes did.

I wish I could tell the world about what I'd almost done. I won't. I know I won't ever open up about this, about how close I came to the end of everything. Life goes on. The survivors remain.

July 26, 2017

Sarah Lacklan's video had gone live two hours ago. He'd already watched it four times and was on the fifth when the cheap tablet dropped the WiFi signal, forcing the video to freeze-frame on her face. Max's eyes drifted closed. A sigh escaped his lips, turning into a soft snore. He was on the verge of dreaming when the video auto-resumed, stuttering slightly. "...t-the one who g-g-glitters like a diamond whereas everyone else wallows in that muck and mire. NO ONE in this match t-t-t-trains the way I d-d-d-do. NO ONE in this match-"

The signal faltered again, this time crashing the entire app. Max's eyes shot open, the urge to hurl the thing into the wall overwhelming. Beyond frustrated, he held his breath, counting to ten, waiting for his nerve endings to stop screaming bloody murder. He hadn't told her about the match, about how badly he'd been mangled. He couldn't remember any of it and had no desire to go back and watch it over again. Getting out of Vegas was more important – getting away from the lights and the tourists and the thousands of eyes that were likely to look at him and see his sins like scarlet letter tattooed on his forehead. His right side was asleep, pins and needles from holding the tablet with his bad hand and now his traps were locked so tight they felt like they were carved out of marble. He groaned, the answering click of a tongue from the doorway making him look up. Florence stood there, taking in the scene before her.
"Max, what are you doing?" She asked this as she raised an eyebrow and stared at him.

"Just watching this thing online. No big deal." The lie was out before he could stop it. She might have bought it if the video hadn't chosen that moment to start playing again, looping that same line of dialogue all over: "I am the one who glitters like a diamond whereas everyone else wallows in that muck and mire. NO ONE in this match trains the way I do. NO ONE in this match prepares like I do. NO ONE in this match watches tape the way I do..."

He fumbled with it, finally mashing the power button in frustration and then sliding his thumb across the screen to shut it down. He counted to ten. Didn't look up again. Didn't want to know what she thought of this latest obsession – she'd probably heard him replaying it repeatedly for the last hour.

Sarah Lacklan hadn't even mentioned his name. He saw himself as the first to express interest even though it was a joke of a quote on social media that he'd had to clarify weeks later. She'd name-dropped Raven and Rayder – had skipped over Riddle. He knew deep down that it shouldn't be a surprise. The girl was known for her unrelenting ego. It still bothered him. After everything he'd done in Defiant, after coming so close against Aidan Carlisle, he'd expected something more. That measure of respect should have been earned by now.

"Say something," he finally muttered, letting out a sigh. "Tell me I'm being stupid for fixating on this. It's okay. I can take the criticism. I'm not going to..." he trailed off, biting his tongue because he'd almost made light of what had happened. That dark humor of his needed to be contained. It hadn't even been a week.

She stayed in the doorway with those big, blue eyes fixed on him. No matter how serious she looked, there was always softness for him. "Do you really know me so little, Max?" Finally, Florence pushed herself off, moving closer. Gently, she took the tablet out of his hand, resting it on the nearby table before sliding on his lap. "You're not stupid. You are focused and determined. I don't know too much about this business, but I know you. If you want something, you go and get it." There was a small pause, "ever consider that she left your name out on purpose? To push your buttons? To make you feel less important?"

Max sighed as she continued, patiently pushing aside his frustration, "it's common. Denial, that is. When you are up against someone or something that could be dangerous for you?" She scoffed, "so it's neither stupid nor has anything to do with your ego. You are a competitor; you wanna be recognized. And if someone is too ignorant to do so?" Florence smiled, "force her to."

The smile on her face grew even wider when she reached out for his bad hand. He was hesitant like always, but her touch was gentle, massaging his tense joints.

"You question everything. And while I find that an admirable personality trait, sometimes it'll drive you insane. Remember who you are, Max, and why you joined this circus in the first place. And then you will realize how little their opinion means."

"For someone who claims ignorance, you know more than most," Max's smile was sad, "than me, really. Sometimes I miss the most obvious. It just burns me that she said she works the hardest of anyone. As if I didn't have to overcome all those trainers and critics-"

"But that's the thing, love – you did. But isn't it common that every competitor claims to be the hardest worker? Like you say it about yourself and hundreds of others do too." She kissed the side of his head. "But words will only bring you so far. You can call yourself a unicorn and still be missing the horn. People can see the truth so let her claim to be the hardest worker. The toughest. The best. And then just prove her wrong."

Max nodded, a smirk crossing his lips. "Words don't matter. You're right. Absolutely right. She can say whatever she wants. She can piss all over the careers of the legends who've signed on for this. She didn't just omit my name... she skipped over Cyrus Riddle and Darkness too. Legends who paved the way in this business – she had to make it into some personal attack against Jan Van Der Roost's wrestling school like any of that matters."

Max closed his eyes, resting his head against Florence's with a sigh. "I don't get it. I truly don't care where anyone trained – skills are skills – they're here and treating that like it's a joke just undercuts everything. If she loses to any of us, what does that make her now? You can't..." he trailed off, "if I say they're all nobodies and garbage...and I lose to them, I've just completely trashed my own reputation. I've never understood the people who do that."

"But isn't that what all the cool kids do? Trying to elevate themselves at the expense of others?"

"Some," he thought of Aidan then, of the way she'd talked down to him, the way she'd lumped him in with Kasey the coward.

"Look at it like this, Max," she lifted her index finger, "if all the other people are trash, what can she gain from winning? If everyone says the same thing, you're going in circles and accomplishing what?"

"Nothing."

"Exactly! So all she seems to be is a loudmouth with zero sense of reality. You'll go out there and you do your best. Fuck what everyone else has to say or thinks or feels because at the end of the day, you know better – we know better."

He glanced over at the tablet on the table before meeting her earnest gaze. "I wanted so badly to beat Aidan. To take the top title away and I had all these fantasies of how great it would be to finally hold a championship. Almost doesn't count for anything. Close but no cigar... and I... Flossy, I can't drop the ball again. I know I'm being silly. I know I should be grateful that I'm still here, that I've got a company willing to pay me for doing the thing I love most but..." he shook his head slowly. "You probably understand more than anyone else why this is so important to me."

"Honey, I've been disappointed so many times in my life. Giving up was never an option." She smiled softly, patting his cheek. "You will climb whatever mountain is in your way. You will overcome any obstacle."

"I..." she cut him off, finger to his lips.

"Do you know how I know?" He shook his head, "because you are Max Ironside, the hammer of Thor."