Xavier Michaels

Chapter One

December 22, 2006

"So how are things going with the move here?," asked the man sitting across from him, "You've been here for about a month now, so are you all settled in and getting used to the city?" Rather than respond to the hoarse voice from the man sitting in front of him, Xavier looked away to the sole window in the dimly lit room. Through the rectangular portal of glass surrounded by wood, he looked out to the see a dusting of snow falling upon the urban landscape beyond. Psychiatrists usually used offices without windows, giving their patients a sense of isolation. Being free of outside distraction, it was usually easier for people to open their minds and reveal their true thoughts rather than seek refuge otherwise meaningless object. Upon first entering the room to begin the hour-long session, he had moved towards the wall-sized window to pull close the burgundy curtains. Xavier, however, stopped him and asked for the scene to remain open to his view. The serenity, he reasoned, had a calming effect on him.

It was now the fingers of glass and steel coated lightly with the natural white nail polish the he fixed his gaze in order to try to avoid answering the question. His reasoning for leaving the area he had grown up as a child, lived his entire life aside from the traveling time between wrestling events, were simple when truly understanding the situation and his own feeling. He did not want to be reminded of anything from his past life. He wanted a fresh start; get away from everything that could remind him of the past he was trying to get escape. At home, he would only remember times when they were happy. Out in the world were places they had been. It was in a sense paradise lost, and the constant realization of how much he had lost would drive him to the point of a nervous breakdown in the end. Even the sight of his own sister, Melissa, forced him to remember the sight of her in that dress as she served as a bridesmaid at the wedding.

"Divorce isn't an easy thing to cope with, Xavier," pushed the man. Xavier flinched at the words. The very word "divorced" sounded harsh and unforgiving to him, yet it was now the label he had been slapped with. His bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he softly bit down on it. "Tell me about," he said finally, breaking the eerie silence. What more was there to say other than that? There was no disputing the statement. The past couple months had been possibly the most difficult ever in his life. Was it even over yet or was he in for even more heartache to come?

"How's Melissa?," he asked Xavier to shift the course of the conversation, "I've only talked to her once to set up our initial meeting last week. She sounded a bit mature for her age, but nice." No other statement he had ever heard before in his life was truer. To his frustration, she was the one person that actually understood how he was feeling. If there were anyone to get a humanitarian award, it would be her for putting up with all his shit since Riley left. "She's good," answered Xavier with a shrug, "Still goes to school down thee and comes up here each day to stay with me. Why, I don't know. She says our mother's starting to drive her nuts, but I think it's more to keep me from doing something stupid. "

The small lashes of the man's eyebrows scrunched, closing the gap between them as he narrowed his eyes at Xavier. Seeming to pierce the rough and stoic exterior Xavier had always tried to maintain, it felt as if the silver eyes looking back at him were staring at his very soul. The soft ticking from the ornate, wooden clock sitting upon the mahogany desk to the rear of the office, signaling the passing of time. The length between the clicking of its mechanical gears within seemed to grow. Time itself not exactly standing still, but damn close, stretching like the elastic band from Hell.

"I know this may be difficult to understand and you may not realize it right now," he began with a somewhat soothing voice to calm Xavier now, "But you cannot think of this as the end of your life, that things don't have a purpose anymore. Things change, people move on and see that there's life after divorce." Xavier shook his head slightly, not wanted to go through the effort of showing just how false the idea was. He certainly could let his anger and frustration show, but such physical manifestations were the actions of true nut jobs. That would not describe Xavier. He was merely tired of the fake pity and people pretending to understand when they had nothing more then an inkling.

"You don't understand. None of you do," Xavier grumbled under his breath, taking a moment to regain a sense of strength in his voice before continuing, "You wouldn't piss on what I'm thinking if you knew us, how we were. I mean, we were the perfect couple. Now, if some friend of ours that doesn't know asks how she is, it just does wonders for my mood and my social skills. I think I almost knocked at Max McMeddler when I ran into him one time almost a month ago in Soho."

"And Melissa? Have you snapped at your sister like you do others?," he asked, wanting to push the issue and find out just how far Xavier's self-loathing had gone. "No, not her. Never her," answered Xavier with a solemn shake of his head, "Right now, she's the only person in my life that doesn't get on my last nerve. No matter how much I bitch and tell her to go, she won't and never will because that's just how she is. She wants to go to Columbia next year, planning to major in journalism and actually do something with her life unlike me while still managing to keep me sane the whole time. If it weren’t for her, I probably wouldn't be here. One, because I want to see just what she can make of herself. And two, I don't want her to come home and find the mess."

Fuck, he really did not want to say that. Xavier rested his right elbow on the wooden arm of the chair as he held a pair of fingers over his eyes, slumping down in the cushioned frame. A scratching sound pecked away at the quiet between them along with a slightly shuffling. The psychiatrist wrote characters of the alphabet into the bleached parchment that had been sitting on the desk moments before. Xavier did not have to lift the hand from his face to know that he was scribbling down on a prescription paper tablet. "I'm writing out something here for you. I want you getting this filled to be the first thing you do after leaving today," said the doctor, the cordiality of his tone faded in the blink of an eye. Xavier let out a low growling sigh from his chest and throat, biting and chewing on his bottom lip agitated that he had allowed himself to slip in such a way, "Great. Here comes the Prozac."

Chapter Two

Xavier continued to push his way down the hall, moving with and against the flowing current of humanity. Backpacks slung over the shoulders of those around them, finding out just how packed they were when the occasional scholastic luggage swayed into his chest or arm. Through the windows of glass, visitors and students on the campus could observe various promotion displays of various things decided upon the school's alumni. He was beginning to get agitated, frustrated by the slow pace of the river of people. As much as he wanted to, throwing one out of the way and stepping on them would not prove too helpful. Only purpose that would serve being the campus police coming and throwing him off the grounds before he reached where she said she was when he called only a half hour before. Typical traffic jam, the speed of people walking past only hindered by faceless kids gawking at the fliers lining the spaced apart bulletin boards. He should've known better then to meet her at the Student Center in the heat of the day's lunch hours.

The double doorway leading into the main rotunda in the center of the building, the steel frame blocked the encroachment of the brick wall to create the opening. The ocher red of the block stone line evenly with the joining mortar bent away, giving the cafeteria the evenness of its circular shape. Inside, the glass dome of the room's ceiling loomed high overhead. Instead of letting in the sun that, on the typical spring or summer day in the future, would usually shine down to be filtered by the slight tinting of the glass, on the heavy haze of the cloud cover of the sky shown itself. Beside the food preparation and serving area to the left, the room was not actually completely surrounding by the lines of the brick. A huge portion of the other side being a set of glass doors, the wall around them mimicking the transparency all the way up to join the ceiling. Typical of his luck. All that aggravation when he could have just come in that way.

The clanging of aluminum trays followed by the yelling in Spanish by two men in white past the opening of the swinging door from the kitchen was slightly distracting. Feet past the doorway but to the side as to stay out of the way as not to get trampled on by the stampede, Xavier scanned the faces and backs of the heads of of those sitting down at the separate circular tables spaced throughout the dining area. In the distance, all the way in the back, sitting at a table positioned close to the set of glass doors on the other side, he saw the recognizable brown strands of her hair draped down the back of her head. Hanging her head down, it looked as if she was deep in thought while reading something down in front of her.

Xavier walked towards her, his footfalls barely making a sound against the brown tiled floor. His hand lain on her back against the black cotton of her t-shirt, resting on her upper back before sliding up and over her right shoulder. Melissa turned and looked up to him, startled at first but relaxing after seeing that it was him. The only other chair sitting at the Formica table vacant and sitting across from her before he sat himself down to take it.

Xavier looked down, his eyes scanning the mess of written words and pictures supposedly matching the topic of the page they occupied. Unable to make heads or tails out of the book, not trying to read it upside down would be helpful, but it would probably been too complicated for him nonetheless. He tore his himself from it, looking back up to meet her gaze, her brown eyes magnified slightly by the reading glasses she wore. "Call me old fashioned," said Xavier with a nod at the opened book, "But I thought lunch was supposed to be for eating." Melissa smiled, closing the book with its front face looking up. "I already had a little something," she with a tilt of her head in the direction of the small, blue plastic tray to her right, "Just taking a few minutes to get a little reading in. I swear, I hate sociology already."

His right hand reached out, patting her on her left and surrounding it softly in his grip. "You'll do fine. You're the one with the brains in the family," he told her, trying to give a boost to her confidence that there was really nothing she could not do. She smiled, looking down as he was at her hand, feeling his thumb caress down her fingers to the diamond studded gold band on her ring finger. "I loved Paris," she said, "Best way for us to spend Christmas break I could've imagined." "I did too," he answered her, still looking intently on the carbon prism on her finger before they both looked up at the same time for their eyes to meet, "If you said I was going to be doing it last year with anyone let along you, I would've said you were nuts. I'm glad it’s done though and legal. Great way to start of the New Year."

Melissa blushed, the cheeks of her face turning a shade of pink. She lifted her hand from under his to take the book up from the table, dropping it to slide down into the backpack at her side. "I have class in a few minutes. Damn municipal government class will be the death of me. Why I need to know about the different between all these different types of loan bonds I have no idea," she told him. Without her getting ready to leave in a few minutes, he was going to have to get to the point of why he wanted to talk to her.

"I have great news," he began, causing her to stop in mid motion while she zipped her bag closed, "I got a job, just got back from signing the contract." Her face lit up with a glow, as she was unable to contain the tone of excitement in her voice, “Oh my God, Xavier. That's terrific!" He nodded his head in agreement with her before continuing, "A brand new promotion opening up. It's run by something of an old friend." Pulling her hair back behind her ears in a quick motion, she was on the point of talking with a squeal, "OK, come on. Don't just leave me hanging. Give me some details. When does it start?"

Reaching across the surface of the table, he took her left hand in his again to hold in between both his palms gently. He was unsure of how to approach this topic, but if he was going to do this, he did not want her to feel left out in the cold. It was important to him that she got into this with him, showing any doubters that he was moving on with his life and a changed man. "The first show is this Sunday night her in New York. I guess it was dumb luck that it was scheduled on Superbowl Sunday," he said, pausing as he held her hand inches from his face, not breaking the link between their eyes, "And I want you to do this with me. Still focused on school, but going to the shows and coming out to the ring with me."

Melissa looked away for a moment, her right hand reaching up to take the glasses from her eyes and sitting them on the table. She sat quietly while thinking about the idea, not wanting to jeopardize the time she was using to go to school. "I guess I can do that," she said, getting a sigh of relief from Xavier, "Going to the shows and all, seeing what it is you do. Besides, if I can get paid for the whole manager coming out with you to the ring, I'll have some money of my own. I hate having to depend on you for it." That was always her. Her moments of weakness and dependence rarely ever happened, she preferred to be strong and independent of anyone else.

"We'll go to the boss of the place about that later," he told her with an excitement filled voice of his own now, "I know he's still at Madison Square Garden putting the finishing touches on promotional stuff for the show. We can go see him after you're done here." She slid her hand from between his and reach down to pull her bag up to sit on her lap, looking into to make sure she was not forgetting anything as she talked, "I just have this class left and I can go with you there and talk to this guy." "I'll meet you outside the door and we'll go straight from there," he said as they got up from the chairs at the same time.

She took up the blue denim jacket that had been draped over the chair, fitting it over her arms and shoulders before before slinging the bag over her right shoulder. In a matter of seconds, she looked the same as mostly everyone else he had seen here today as he took a couple steps towards her to bridge the space between them. His right hand reached under her jacket and slid down to her waist as he bent down to meet his lips with hers. Parting a couple seconds later, their faces still hung inches from each other, the side of their noses grazing the other. "I'll see you in a couple hours," he whispered softly, "Love you, Mel." "Love you too," she answered in the same tone before he tore his hand away from the touch of her waist. Deciding it would be better to go out through the glass doors near the table instead of the way in which he came, he gave her one last look as he swung open the door. Meeting her smile with one of his own, he watched as she turned away after taking up her glasses from the table and strode away to the in the other direction.

Chapter Three

June 21, 2007

Darkness hung heavy in the air, most of the room staying within the shadows. Entering from the windows to the Xavier's left, beams of light passed over and under the vinyl slates of the opened blinds to pierce through and torn asunder the darkened veil. Glass and wood framing the various photographs reflected the light to bounce off in soft glares. Xavier let out a long, drawn out sigh from his mouth. Laying the back of his head on the top of the leather armchair, Xavier listen to the muffled din of music humming along throughout the rest of the house. His fingers scratched softly at the wooden tips of both its arms and closed his eyes. He could almost go to sleep, the softened rhythm from outside serenading him almost to a slumber in his father's old chair.

Beyond the oak double doors to his right, something a celebration was going on. It was a party to congratulate Melissa on the day of her high school graduation, an act of decadency he wanted nothing to do with the whole deal. An hour after coming to the house with Melissa, he had already been bombarded with a barrage of queries from questioning uncles, aunts and cousins he had not seen in years. They had all heard of his now non-existent wrestling career, the divorce with Riley and they wanted all the juicy details to full the family rumor mills for a good decade at least. This was Melissa's day, not to be taken up by the gossip hounds of the family.

Knowing full well none of them would bother coming in here, he felt safe in its confines. Every square foot of the wall was literally lined with photographs as well as other articles their mother had collected and used to decorate the memorial to their father. As a teenager, he would look at the pictures in wide wonder and amazement. The Purple Heart he was posthumously awarded had been given a special place of honor, sitting alone and isolated in the center of the desk that sat against the middle of the far wall. By now, however, even that had lost its allure. All the pictures looked the same, melding in to his sight to mesh with the sheen and shine of the wooden paneling on which they hung.

If only he could fall asleep in the chair and pass the time even quicker. Melissa knew where he was, and she would come get him when she was ready to go back home. A good two months she had to take some time to unwind and relax for once, the hectic and busy life she had put on pause. He had very little doubt what her future for the next few years would hold when he saw the jam-packed envelope from Columbia University. She had been accepted of course, and come September, she would be working on her bachelor's degree in journalism.

What goes around comes around it would seem, and this instance of karma kicking in proving the old saying to be true. She had given him hope and reason to believe the future was not always so bleak. His prescription of Zoloft had been empty for months, the red tint of the plastic bottle showing only the air held inside. He had not bothered to get it refilled even once. He was actually starting to feel better and it was not because of the pills nor the hour-long sessions of saying almost nothing to the therapist Melissa had demanded he see, but it was she. She refused to give up on him even when he frustrated the ever living shit out of her with his mood swings, not letting him sleep away his sorrow and pulled him out of bed. She insisted he actually start doing something with his life again, and she was going to hold his hand the whole way if that's what it was going to take. For that depth of dedication, he owed her a debt of unending gratitude. But, was there more it then would seem?

Over the past few months, they had become even closer then they had ever been the previous seventeen years. So much so that the line of their brother/sister relation had become somewhat blurred. He found himself giving her those glances as he looked at her, adding precious few yet extra seconds to a kiss, taking the time to stay close to her afterwards and take in the smell of her hair. Standing in line while shopping in Midtown, he would feel her softly crushing her body against his side, slipping stealthily under his arm to have it wrap around her back. While sometimes watching a movie on the couch at night, she would cuddle closely to him. His arm draped over her, she would more often then not eventually fall asleep there in his arms. He could not say what was happening between them. He thought of what it could be, but it was impossible that such a thing could happen. Had the divorce from Riley screwed up his idea of love that he would actually consider a relationship with his own little sister?

Her eighteenth birthday was just less then a week ago, it just was not right that he could think of her in such a way. In the aftermath of her rape, he was the one to be there and protect her, to hold and comfort her when she was hurting the most. He was ultimately the one that hunted the sack of shit down and avenged her. Now, as he felt in his heart thoughts he found repulsive but could not help but genuinely feel, it was he that felt like the predator preying upon her.

One of the double doors open slowly, the brass hinges creaking under the stress of the motion as Melissa walked in at a slow pace. The high heels of her shoes click against the hardwood floor as she turned around to close the door as softly as she had opened it, the quiet click of the lock telling her it was done. Xavier watched on in silence while she backed away from the door and walked in his direction. Bending over, the black tie she was still were for her graduation ceremony handing down from her neck, she brushed her hair away from her face and pulled it behind her ears before she slipped down to sit on his lap. She sat sideways, resting her left shoulder against his right, her neck bent to rub the top of her head against his chin. As a reflex, he naturally wrapped his arms around her to hold her.

"I'm proud of you, Mel. You know that right?" he asked her with a gentle whisper. "I know," she answered with a barely audible mumble. "You always were the smart one out of us. Beat the hell out of high school, and now a school like Columbia," continued Xavier with the encouraging talk. Melissa, sighing weakly only curled into him closer, pulling her legs up to lay over his left, reaching up to his left shoulder. Sensing something was wrong; Xavier rubbed up and down her back against the gray linen shirt. "Mel, what's wrong?" he asked with a tone of clear and evident concern. "Nothing. Just had a fight with mom," she said finally with the same weak mumble as before, "I told her I was going to be staying with you while was going to school, and she wigged out. Started going on about we were abandoning her. This is the kind of crap that made me want to stay with you this last year in the first place. I'm not going to deal with her freaking out on me all the time." Planting a kiss on the top of her head, his voice took on the tone of soothing, "I know, Mel, I know. And you won't have to. She'll just have to get over the empty nest shit eventually. We're both adults now, it's time we both got away from her."

Pulling her head away from his chin, she turned and looked to him. Her soft and gleaming brown eyes looked into him sincerely for a moment. Slowly, she moved her face closer to his as they kissed. Both mouths open, tongues intertwining, Xavier found himself falling into the moment. At the moment, he did not see her as his sister, but another woman entirely. The woman in his arms was someone he had loved for years, no moral iron curtain keeping him from following what his head told him he should and needed to do. The open palm of his left hand drifted down from her waist to her thigh, giving it a slight squeeze through the black slacks she wore before going back up to cup it around her small breast.

Their mouth kept the lock on one another, the currents of passion and lust flowing back and forth between them. Realizing just what they were doing and where, Xavier's eyes shot open and turned away to break the hold. "Mel, what the hell are we doing?," he asked in confusion, pulling his hand away from her breast and looking at in disgust. Melissa put a pair of fingers on the side of his chin, turning him to face her as she spoke inches from his face, "What's it look like we're doing? And unless you have a screwdriver in your pocket to stab me in my leg, you're liking it." "We can't, you know we can't go through with this," said Xavier with a shake of his head in refusal to accept it. She put a finger over his lips, shushing him as she took the hand he had just been disgusted with and slipped it down between her legs, "Like you said, I'm an adult and grown woman now, and it's about time you stopped treating me like I'm some little girl. I'm twice the woman Riley was, and you loved her, even married her. Just because I'm your sister doesn't make me any different. So put the moral shit aside and love me like I love you."

Pulling his hand free from the erotic vice grip of her thighs, Xavier looked around. Glimpses of the photos hanging on the wall catching his eyes as they had not only minutes before. The eight-by-ten portrait of their father in his dress uniform, standing in front of an American flag held erect on a wooden rod, struck him the most eerie. The eyes, those eyes that were his also looked as if they were staring back at him. Filled with nothing but hate and contempt for what they were seeing, it sent chills down Xavier's spine, causing him to shudder. After much effort, he managed to take his gaze from the captured image of their father to the caring and compassion filling Melissa's. It was what he wanted, but he could not bring himself to go to that depth of depravity. "I can't Mel. I'm sorry, but look at where we are all places. Mom's creepy ass room for dad." She had not even flinched, only keeping the same look at him. The eyes staring at him did not look hurt nor stunned in the least, only accepting the fact that her wish was going to be delayed.

"You'll come around eventually," she said quietly, "And then you'll see that this wasn't so crazy after all. Just hold me like this for a little while longer. Give it time for things to quiet down out there." Xavier was not going to argue with her. He had barely escaped falling into the trap of an incest love. If holding her close as he had when she first came in and sat on his lap was going to keep her content; that was his duty for the day and the rest of her life.

Chapter Four

"I'm just so excited, Xavier," said Melissa, any attempt to hide the glee in her voice nonexistent. The entire drive here from the Columbia campus, all she had talked about was meeting Soren. He had taken her to this arena many times before to see shows and plays and the like, but now she looked around as if she had a pair of virgin eyes. He reached over with his arm over her shoulder to pull her against him and holding a hand over her mouth. "Will you calm down already? You're acting like some teenager on her way to a Hannah Montana concert," he joked.

Melissa giggled a muffled laugh into his hand before dropping down and spinning herself out from under his arm. Seeing her jumping out ahead of him, Xavier grabbed the back of her denim jacket only have her easily squirm her way out of it. "Snaky bitch," Xavier grumbled while looking at it hanging limply and empty in his grip. Backwards Melissa walked, the heels of her tan work boots hitting the ground while she faced her brother and mocking him still, "Serves you right for pretending to be a dick."

Way down towards the end of the gray hallway, near one of the many main entrances into the arena's seating area, stood the man that had decided to give him a shot back into the wrestling business. He looked to be fully involved in a conversation with someone on his cell phone. Hopefully, it would end by the time they got there. "There he is," said Xavier with a nod down the hall past her, "Behave yourself around him or no more sugar for you tonight. The shit's like crack."

Melissa gave a quick look over the shoulder, guessing the built man talking on the phone was he. Turning back to Xavier, she only stopped and waiting for him to reach her rather then meet him halfway and snatched her jacket from his hand. "Give me my shit," she mocked while slipping her arms inside it fitting it back on, "Punk, now give me a kiss and let's hope this works." Xavier obliged the request of course without any argument from him.

Returning their attention to the trek to Soren at the end of the tunnel, Xavier took Melissa's hand as they walked together in his direction. It looked as if the conversation was about to close as they approached, Soren closing the phone shut when the reached feet within him. Or maybe he cut the call short because of them. "Xavier," he said with and extending of his hand in Xavier's direction, "I didn't think we'd be meeting so soon after signing your deal, but I'm glad you decided to come back. Everything for the first High Voltage is set and I was about to go, and I forgot to congratulate you. I wasn't the only one that thought you wouldn't marry again after Riley."

Xavier took the hand held out to him, a look of confusion on his face as the words Soren said rung in his ears. He looked to Melissa at his side that only shared the same look he wore. Turning back to Soren, Xavier stammered over his own words, "Ho-how did you know about that?" Soren laughed a slight chuckle at the question before answering, "Xavier, you don't give yourself nearly as much credit when it comes to the attention you've been getting for the last year. It was all over the dirt sheets that you two were doing something as far as a relationship. When you were both spotted out side of De Gaulle Airport, it was practically all over the place that you were going to get married there. Those Frenchies I tell you, they sure have some weird laws over there. You're both happy with it at least, and that's what's really important isn't it."

Both Melissa and Xavier merely blinked, themselves stunned that it was that wide spread. God help them if their mother saw something on it. Probably not however. They both new they would either get a screaming phone call telling them they were disowned and out of the will, or a phone call of a different variety from another relative telling them their mother had dropped dead from a heart attack.

Soren sidestepped past Xavier and took Melissa by her other hand. "And this must be Mrs. Michaels," he said as his pursed lips met the back of her hand with a kiss, "My dear, you're as lovely as Xavier says you're intelligent. You wouldn't happen to have any other sisters would you, Xavier?" Melissa's cheeks flushed a shade of pink, blushing looking away smiling.

"Alright you two," said Xavier with a roll of his eyes, "Soren, enough of getting your mack on. And you girl, I'm so hiding the batteries to your toys." Melissa's jaw dropped, trying to maintain a feigned look of astonishment that Xavier would be so bold. Soren let her hand fall back down to her side, yet Melissa still looked at it with a smile. Sticking his hands in his suit pockets, Soren smiled and asked, "So Mr. and Mrs. Michaels, to what do I owe the pleasure."

"Well, Soren, it's about her," began Xavier with a gesture of his free hand to Melissa, "We wanted to talk to you about some kind of developmental deal for her. Still going to school and all, but it'll get her foot in the door and let her come down with me to ringside when she wants while getting her foot in the door." Soren took a couple steps back, eying her form up and down for a few seconds before breaking off. "Does she have any experience," he queried. Xavier moved to answer, but Melissa cut him off in mid word, "None, but I'm a Michaels, so I'm a natural. With Xavier training me some and showing me how things work, I can get the hang of things fast."

Xavier looked to her confused, clearly not having thought of training her part of the deal. She responded with a look of "Shut the fuck up," to keep him quiet while Soren mulled over the prospect. Soren seemed to be deep in thought for what was probably a minute or so before finally coming to a decision. "I'll tell you guys what," he said finally, "I'll work up something with a basic, generic developmental deal for her and we'll see how she does. I'll have the paperwork for her to sign before the show Sunday."

"Thanks, Soren. We really appreciate this," Xavier said while both him and Melissa shook Soren's hand in thanks, "Speaking of Sunday, I haven't heard anything on who'll be facing who. There isn't anything on the Internet about the show yet, can you at least tell me who I'll be facing?" Soren laughed slightly, scratching at his chin with a finger, "It's actually against an old 'friend' of yours. Armani Styles."

Xavier coughed, and coughed again and again. It felt like choking on a rubber ball that had bounced from the floor from some idiot kid. Melissa reached up and patted him on the back, hoping he was not getting sick all of a sudden as it would completely ruin the night she had planned. Finally regaining control of himself, Xavier look up to Soren with a set of bulging eyes from the coughing. "I'm sorry, Soren," he said hoarsely, "I could've sworn you said Armani was here too. Dear God, there goes the neighborhood. Does he still have that little midget that cursed a lot and that fat Japanese guy with him?"

"Actually, Armani hasn't talked to either them for the last year. He doesn't drink anymore... and he's a Vegan," Soren said while rounding around them and beginning to make his way out towards the arena's exit, "Thanks for stopping by you two, but I'm beat and have to get back to the hotel. Early flight in the morning and have to get back to the hotel. See you both Sunday."

Soren gave them a parting wave as he turned he back and walked down the hall the way they had came. Melissa and Xavier repeated a carbon copy of the same gesture, their faces expressionless as a result of the revelation Soren had thrown on them. Armani Styles not drinking any more? This was supposed to be wrestling, not the Twilight Zone. And what the fuck happened to the "Z" at that end of his name?