002: Show Me How To Live

Hannah stood in the bedroom, staring down at the screen on her phone, brow furrowed in confusion. A shiver of déjà vu crawled down her back as she remembered a little over four years ago when something similar had happened: Lex had posted about a booking in Minneapolis she'd known nothing about. She'd laid into him then, her own trust issues rearing their ugly heads at the thought of him signing with a company that had treated them like garbage in the past.

After digging around on his timeline and finding nothing, she had no idea what he was talking about, leaving her no choice but to ask him directly. She found him on the balcony where he'd set up a gym, the heavy bag still swaying slightly, the blue leather covered in wet smears that could have been either blood or sweat. He was sitting with his back against the wall, eyes closed with a wet towel draped over his head. It wasn't half past noon and it was already oppressively hot.

Lex flexed his fingers and she knew what he was doing – trying to keep them loose before the knuckles started to swell and stiffen up from the abuse. He only did that when he'd lost himself in the moment, gone too hard. She hated seeing him like this.

"Angola?" The word came out soft and he sighed, starting to peel the dark wrap from his right hand.

"Yeah." He didn't elaborate, waited it out, steeling himself for whatever hell she was going to unleash on him. It wasn't as though he'd deliberately forgotten to tell her about the offer, about the cryptic message that had come amid all the bullshit, reminding him of an old favor owed. With the breakup and the move to Vegas, he'd forgotten all about the application he'd filled out until the schedule had arrived in his email.

"In August?" Hannah walked over to the railing, leaning against it as she turned to face him, blocking the sun as he finally lifted his head.

He let the towel fall back a little, leaving it there like a hood as his dark eyes met hers. She could see how tired he was, how much he seemed to be pulling back into himself, trying to get smaller. She knew why he was doing it and she hated herself for being unable to stop it – he'd done it since they were little, going days without speaking, getting lost in the dark passages in his own head as if he was reveling in the misery. Was this trip another part of that same suicidal impulse?

"It's not what you think," he finally said.

"Lex, I-"

He held up a hand to cut her off. "No. Just let me explain, alright? I know what you're gonna say. I know what you're going to think this is and I can assure you that it's not like when I did that underground fighting bullshit." She blinked, surprised that he'd almost plucked that thought from her head. "Angola. Nigeria. Morocco." He ticked off the places on his fingers, "those are the next stops. The place is called Riot Star an' they run shows all over the world, low-key stuff. No big networks, no prime-time slots…" he went back to peeling the wrap from his hand, still flexing his fingers. "It's a chance to start over in a place where nobody knows my name, where I'm not gonna have every asshole talkin' about how swell it's gonna be to square off with a former champion. No bullseye on my back an' I start at the bottom, unknown."

"Why would you-"

He cut her off again, a derisive snort accompanying a twist of his lips into a sneer, "not like the phone's been ringin' off the hook since I parted ways with WWH, now has it? Not like I'm fightin' off the offers with a stick."

"They'll come."

He shook his head, "they won't, Han. I'm damaged goods."

"You headlined The United Center, Lex. More than once! You wrestled at Madison Square Garden in front of a sold-out crowd. I don't understand why you think you're some black-balled pariah because that dumpster fire tried to use you up! This… it's like you're letting them win."

"Lettin' them win? No." He bit his lip, "this is survival, Han. I need to do this. Go back to basics. Strip away all the shit – raze an' burn – rise from the ashes, y'know? First match will be in Angola. 'Gainst some chick named Andi Snow."

Hannah took out her phone as Lex started unwrapping the other hand, Googling the company and his opponent. The more she found, the sicker she felt. The girl had lost her top during her first match. Just a few days ago, she'd wrestled another woman in a 'Taipei Dessert' match complete with caramel sauce and whipped cream. It was almost as degrading as CWF's infamous 'naked aggression'. She couldn't keep that incredulous laughter from bubbling up as she held out the phone towards him. "Have you seen this?"

"Yeah. Gimmicked show. Spin the wheel to find out your match type. There were worse options on the wheel than that. Coulda been like my match with Aornis, y'know? Broken glass. Both of 'em lookin' like hamburger meat by the end of it-"

"Jesus." Swallowing back what she felt at that reminder, she turned off her phone screen. She didn't have the stomach to do anymore research on Lex's new workplace. It felt like a joke, like an insult to everything he'd ever done. "Is this what you really want?"

"I want…" he hesitated, biting back the bitter tirade that was on the tip of his tongue. He didn't care about more championships, about arenas filled with hundreds of thousands of screaming fans and censoring himself for television. He didn't care about the pomp and circumstance and all the bullshit pageantry that went with it. "Listen, Han… it ain't like that. There won't be no Faraday Cage matches or jaguar-mauling like I had in Olympus. They want me as a legit fighter. That was just a one-off show. I'm not afraid of stupid shit but I…" he pushed up to his feet and walked to where she stood, leaning on the railing as the towel fell around his neck. "I still wanna be taken serious. Kinda miss that, y'know?"

From this vantage point, with him standing there squinting into the blinding sun despite the sunglasses he'd just put on, she could see the strands of silver in his hair – just a few at the temples to match the ones in his beard on his cheeks. She thought they made him look rugged, more handsome than ever. The more scars he collected, the more damage he took, the more he shone in her eyes. Even now, watching him speak, hearing the bitterness that colored his words, she knew it was borne of that heart and passion she'd always envied. "I know, baby. Believe me, there are still people out there who'll tune in for that. Even if it takes some effort." She believed that. Even when he'd been a nobody clawing his way up from the bottom almost ten years ago, she'd maintained that he'd be a big deal someday.

Now he was a has-been. An also-ran of the worst kind.

He sighed, bowing his head. "I just wanna fight. For the right reasons."

Her head tilted to the side slightly as she studied him, still not understanding his choice in this company she'd never heard of before today. "Okay," the word came out with an exhale as her hand came up and rested on his cheek. "I trust your judgement," she tried to push aside the images she'd seen of his upcoming opponent smeared in caramel sauce and chocolate chips, trying to convince herself that it was more practical than glue and broken glass.

He didn't tell her that he was banking on a long shot recommendation from someone she'd never met. He wanted to, but it was better to let her believe he'd found his way there by happenstance.

"Lex, if this is what you feel is the right path… okay." She rested her head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his warm skin. "I trust you and will back you one hundred percent." She was wary about this new venture, but she wouldn't stand in his way. She knew the best thing for him was to have a distraction, to keep his body busy while he worked his way through this dark patch. "I gotchu."

"Maybe it'll be good. Maybe it'll surprise you." He murmured, looking down over the swimming pool in their backyard and the lake beyond. "An' if it turns into a shit sandwich with a side of clusterfuck fries, I'll go somewhere else. I'll rebuild my…" he trailed off, not wanting to think about how tarnished his reputation had become. Would he still have any fans left when he showed up in Angola? "It'll work out." He turned and pulled her close, kissing her forehead even as he tried to swallow his own doubts. "Promise."

The moment his lips pressed against her forehead, Hannah closed her eyes. She would never get tired of him holding her. "Whatever happens, I'm here." Leaning in, she kissed his cheek. "I'll follow you anywhere."

"Even Africa?"

She nodded. It didn't matter how uneasy the new company made her, if it was what Lex needed, she'd support it. "Even the moon."

"Give it a few years. That'll be Elon Musk's next project."

They both shared a laugh and then Hannah took a step back, looking up at him again as she grew serious. "You'll come out on top, Lex. Even in space or an electrified cage or the bottom of the ocean. You're a winner-" he opened his mouth to protest and she silenced him with a finger to his lips. "No. Just listen. You've done your time in hell, baby. We both did. This is our second chance." She took his hand, pulling him towards the patio doors. "No matter what happens, you're still a winner. You've got a family who loves you. You've got your health and happiness and-"

He pulled back and she stumbled, crashing against his chest as he caught her. His lips found hers for a deep kiss and he left her breathless. "We won, Han. Us. We beat time, ran out the clock – fuck the rest of it. Doesn't matter anymore. World can't hold us back. Doesn't own us."

"God, I love you," she whispered, "so much."

Someday he hoped he'd feel worthy of that devotion. It wasn't today. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes against the ache in his chest. "I know." The words slipped out, no intent of irony or plagiarism intended before he shifted the subject to safer territory, "feel sticky-as-fuck – gotta shower. You wanna join?"  

Her mischievous grin was answer enough as he picked her up and carried her over the threshold. Angola wasn't for a couple more weeks. He could push all those doubts to the back of his mind until then, just focus on living in the moment. He hadn't done that in so long he'd almost forgotten how.