008: Turn the Page [Vengeance Pro]

THE FUTURE IS UNWRITTEN. The first time I saw that quote, it was spray-painted on a wall in New York City and I was sixteen years old. I had no idea it was a quote from a punk icon. I had no idea how much it was going to stick with me, to resonate far beyond my teenage years.

I'm sure there are those in this business who hate me, who think what I do and my motivations are a mockery of the sanctity of the sport – I had a promoter once tell me that it was impossible to book me in a match because nobody would ever believe the scrawny, handicapped kid could win. I let those words resonate too, I let them inside and let them eat away at me. I found a way to bulk up, to get myself in better fighting shape. I adapted.

I turned the page and started a new chapter. I did that again after losing to James Raven. I asked for the summer off. I received notice a few weeks ago that I wouldn't be needed after my self-imposed hiatus – they didn't care if I'd been trying to heal up a few nagging injuries or that I was trying like hell to find my smile and the joy I'd once felt in the ring. The landscape was changing. People were being pushed into impossible situations and forced out the door. I'd gotten lucky in that regard. I chose to walk away rather than have the rest of my career tarnished more than it already had been. James Raven didn't even show up for the match he won in that tournament – that should tell you all you need to know on the subject.

I turned the page.

I heard Vengeance Pro was coming back. Most won't remember I entered a tournament there once too. My luck where those are concerned (or lack thereof), has become the stuff of legends. That fresh page is so clean. It beckons in the worst way and I wonder what will happen. Will I emerge victorious and earn myself title contention in the very first outing? Can I beat Levi? Logan McLeod? Can the smallest guy manage to make either submit?

I don't know.

The only thing for certain is that this isn't meant to be the last chapter – this isn't a climax or a swan song. This is a new beginning, after all. A clean slate.

The rattle of cups and cutlery from the kitchen would have otherwise been comforting but with the awkward silence that reigned in the nearly-empty living room, it bordered on excruciating. Max sat on a folding metal chair, the same kind that was generally found under a wrestling ring, watching the immaculate couple who sat on the couch. Words died the moment they were formed in his brain and he kept his eyes fixed on the swinging door that led into the kitchen, hoping Rayna would come back soon and save him from saying something he really shouldn't to her parents. It was funny, in retrospect, that he'd been living with her for over a year in New Orleans yet this was the first time her parents had been over – even more ironic since the sale on the house had closed a few days ago. Boxes were stacked behind the couch, blocking off part of the room, making it feel smaller and almost claustrophobic.

"So... uh..." he mumbled, his good hand wrapping around his bad one in his lap in an effort to hide it from their view. "Dinner was... that place had really good bread, didn't you think?"

Rayna's father made a soft sound that was utterly ambiguous and the silence fell over them again.

Max wasn't even sure if they liked him, if they approved of the relationship or the fact that he'd asked for their daughter's hand in marriage. The subject hadn't really come up over dinner and he knew Rayna wasn't close enough with either of them to call them weekly for updates.

Monica Barnes was seated next to her husband Shane and her pale blue eyes were focused on the man who was marrying their daughter. Loudly, she inhaled through her nose and then followed with an exhale. "So, Michael, what job do you have lined up in Miami? I assume you've abandoned that silly wrestling thing."

There were so many things wrong with the question that it took him a few seconds to even process what he'd been asked. "I uh... I..." he stumbled over his words, pausing to clear his throat. "I was working in Key West while we were still living here and that just didn't really pan out. I've got this new thing in the works in Las Vegas and my first match is actually going to be..." he trailed off, looking sheepish as he caught himself before launching into a recitation of his opponents – they wouldn't care, much less know who the two guys were. He didn't bother to correct the name. There wasn't any point.

Rayna's father was scrolling on his phone, not even paying attention. Her mother was actually filing her nails and he watched with revulsion as the fine dust filtered through the air to settle on the couch and carpet.

He could have told them how things had ended in Florida but he didn't really want to give them any more ammunition than he already had. It wouldn't have mattered what he said on the subject in his defense. He dragged in a slow breath, doing his best to keep a smile on his face and a civil tone. "No. I haven't given up on wrestling. I just took a couple months off to recover and spend more time with Bu-" he caught himself before the nickname slipped out, flushing with embarrassment as he corrected himself, "with Rayna. We did some conventions. I did a few speaking engagements. It was actually really rewarding and definitely opened my eyes to the other side of being in the limelight."

"Ah yes, the conventions." There was a hint of disdain in Monica's tone. "We have told Rayna time and time again that they are a waste of time and money. She needs to be constructive with her life. I was hoping that whomever our daughter ends up with that they'd make her strive to do more than she is. However, that doesn't appear to be in the cards."

"Are you kidding?!" Max was incredulous as he stared at Rayna's mother. "She puts so much effort into her looks and she makes all her costumes herself. She's got literally thousands of followers online and she's won almost all the competitions she's entered. Actual cash prizes, rewards for all the time invested – not wasted. She's got a pretty big fan-base – probably bigger than mine if I'm being honest and I just–" he stopped talking when he noticed the look on Monica's face.

From the kitchen, Rayna could hear some raised voices from the living room. It was making her anxious, but usually her parents being nearby made her anxious anyway. Exhaling, she grabbed the tray that had dessert and coffee on it.

Back in the living room, Monica was staring down her future son-in-law. "You just what?" With a raised eyebrow, she narrowed her eyes.

Max swallowed hard, blinking slowly as he felt the mood in the room shift. "I just think you should consider what makes her happy rather than what you think may reflect poorly on you – she's not an extension of you or an accessory and I really believe she knows what she's doing. If you just gave her a chance, you might see it too." He wasn't afraid of their wrath and he'd faced far worse in wrestling than he had with the disdain of her shallow parents.

Before Monica could respond, Rayna came into the living room with the tray in hand. "Who's ready for some cheesecake?" There was a forced smile on her face as she set the tray down on the coffee table, noticing the frosty silence her entrance had done nothing to dispel.

"Cheesecake, Rayna? Are you sure that's wise?" Monica asked, grabbing herself a cup of coffee. "You are planning to walk down the aisle and not waddle, correct?"

Rayna's cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she shrugged the comment off. Even though she had dealt with these things her whole life, the words still stung.

"Also next time you're expecting company, you may want to invest in some decent coffee." Monica placed the cup back on the tray, her lips puckered in distaste.

"Monica, we need to leave soon." Finally Shane spoke up, however his eyes were glued to his phone while he said it. The man rarely acknowledged his daughter and this evening was no exception.

Max picked up one of the plates with the cheesecake on it that he knew she'd gone to three different stores trying to find in the hopes that it would impress her parents. She'd made the fruit sauce that had been ladled over the top herself. With a tight smile, Max took a bite and chewed loudly, deliberately lacking manners as he let out a contented sigh while smacking his lips. "It's delicious," he murmured, his gaze flicking for a moment to Rayna before settling back on her mother. "So sweet and overly-indulgent – it's perfect." The words hung there for a moment; a bit of a double meaning came clear when his lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. "I'm sorry about the coffee. I like the kind they have at Dunkins and she just tolerates my weird taste." He shrugged, dropping a few cubes of sugar into one of the cups before he spoke again. "Bunny," he took a sip of his coffee, eyes fastened on her mother as if daring her to make another snide comment, "Martha and I were just catching up on what you and I've been up to since May."

"Oh yeah?" Rayna said as she took a seat across from her parents, perched on the edge of the armchair they'd never used. She had wanted some of the dessert but now she just felt sick.

"You mean Monica." The older woman shot back, clearly unimpressed with the fact that her future son-in-law didn't remember her name.

Rayna looked at Max, the love she felt for him very clearly on her face. "Did he tell you about the workshops he did? All those kids… it was so magical! I'm so proud of-" she stopped talking when she saw the look on her mother's face.

"How cute." The two words came out in a very negative way. "But hopefully you'll both grow up soon and become reproductive members of society. Perhaps your father and I wouldn't have paid for your ivy league education if we had known you would squander it all away." She rolled her eyes. "We should have just donated the money to some obscure charity. At least we'd have something back on our taxes that way."

The fork clattered against the plate as Max set it down on the table. His bad hand curled into a fist and he made no real effort to hide it as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I have a degree," the words came out strained, "I work with children with developmental difficulties and I find it very rewarding even though it's never going to make me rich. You know, when I'm not wasting my precious time in the ring, being a detriment to society even though most of the fans I interact with tell me that I'm a goddamned inspiration. It's like when I go out there, I make kids who'll never know a normal life feel like anything is possible and you're going to tell me that's not PRODUCTIVE?!" He couldn't help the way his voice rose in volume on the last word.

Before Monica could respond, Rayna had stood up, keeping her emotions under control. Having grown up with them for parents, she had loads of training on how to stay calm. "I think it's probably time," she looked at her father who finally took his eyes off of his phone. "I'm sure you have an early meeting, Daddy."

"As a matter of fact, I do." Shane stood up and slid his phone into his pocket. "Monica, let's go." He gave his wife the command as he was already walking to the door.

Monica rose to her feet, grabbing her purse. "Well, darling, thank you for dinner." She placed a kiss on Rayna's cheek that was anything but affectionate. "Next time, try to be a little more prepared so that I won't have to critique you. Honestly, you were raised better than that." She followed her husband to the door. "Goodnight, Michael. Good luck with your wrestling thing." And with that they were both out the door.

Max let out the breath he'd been holding, shaking his head. "Well," he deadpanned, "that went well, don't you think?"

"Actually, it did. " Rayna sat down on the couch her parents had just vacated, leaning over with a sigh to bury her face in her hands. "That was my mom being nice, if you can believe it."

He could. He'd been on his best behavior as well and it had taken everything not to brag about Vengeance Pro's reboot or his upcoming opportunity there. He didn't want them to crush his spirit the way they seemed bound and bent to do for their daughters.

"Can we not have them at the wedding?" Sighing, Max picked up his piece of cheesecake again, finishing the rest off before adding to the thought. "I'm not sure what would bother them more... an invitation to a themed wedding or being left off the guest list entirely."

Her shoulders went up in a shrug as she looked up at Max. "We can leave them out if you want.... I mean the only person from my family I want there is my sister."

The way she looked at him broke his heart and he stood up quickly, going over to join her on the couch. "You..." he reached out to take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, "you don't deserve that shit, Bunny. They're worse than..." he bit back the words he wanted to say, making a rude noise instead. "Better off without them around, really. Only gonna bring you down."

"Don't need them." Rayna nodded for emphasis, kissing his hand. "I'm ready to begin this next chapter with you, Max. Only you."