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A loud scream is heard.
Steve Harrison walks out of a room.
He shuts the door behind him, and the scream gets quieter and quieter until it is just muffled noise.
He leans against the door and looks down to the floor. He turns, let’s out a long sigh and takes a padlock out of his pocket and latches it to the door. The place is lit by construction work lights. The dim light shines on the face of The Miracle Man, and it is not a pleasant sight. His beard is shaggy, his head not shaved and sweat permeates his face.
“When will it end,” he says softly as he struggles to breath correctly.
The doc moves into focus, “sit down, Steve.”
The doc motions to porch furniture that is ten feet away from where Steve is standing. It is nothing too fancy and seems to have just been grabbed from Home Depot without a thought on quality or comfort. Harrison walks over and sits down on one of the shitty looking chairs. The doc bends down and picks up his bag and walks over to Steve and gets down on one knee.
“Let me see the ribs.”
Steve stares down at the doc and shakes his head, “we have a more important cause right in that fucking room,” he points angrily at the room he just left.
Without hesitating the doc pokes Harrison in the ribs. Harrison jumps and cocks his fist. Doc gets up and takes a step back afraid that Steve might follow through with his threat. “Did that feel good?”
“Are you trying to make some stupid medical point?”
“Lift your shirt up.”
Steve shakes his head, “how about we finish what we came here to do.”
“Your focus cannot always be on something else. You need to focus on yourself unless you enjoy getting hurt and losing your precious wrestling belts.”
The Miracle Man puts his hand up to respond but slowly drops it as he thinks of how to respond to that. He rubs his face and lets out another sigh, “fine,” he lifts his shirt up as he accepts his defeat in this argument.
The doc smiles knowing it is odd for Steve to ever realize he might be wrong and walks back over as Harrison turns his head and lifts his shirt above his shoulders. It isn’t hard to see the injury as the harmed ribs are extremely swollen and black and blue. “I don’t have to touch this area again to know you have at least two broken ribs and I can hear how breathing has become harder just by the sound of your wheeze.”
Steve turns his head back towards him, “what’s your point?”
“That you are in no shape to wrestle…hell, I wouldn’t want you to drive a car with these ribs.”
Steve shrugs, “I am sure Lee Best will definitely listen to your medical advice. I am sure he will take a few minutes out of his life of having women sign NDAs and celebrating the Roe vs Wade reversal to worry about my ribs.”
“Sarcasm?”
“Yes, Doctor, I am being fucking sarcastic. HOW does not care about my health like it doesn’t care about anyone’s health. The only health Lee Best cares about is the companies and by that, I mean how much dirty money he is making off our broken bodies.”
“I can wrap this and give you some pain killers I guess?”
Harrison rolls his eyes, “I don’t care, doc. You say I am not focusing on myself, and the truth is there is no reason to focus on this injury because I don’t get any time off. I don’t get health insurance. What I get is a title match against HOWs favorite grandson.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Let me ask you: is it good or bad that Rebecca Hines is not back to normal yet even though we have been using the medicine for a week on her?”
The doc shakes his head, “these are unfair comparisons, Steve. We were never sure how this would work and just because you were able to remember things that was only after last year when you remembered much more. We have no baseline on Rebecca just the hopes that in time the medicine will bring her back around.”
Harrison groans, “just like wrestling Tyler Best is a great opportunity but it is given under a false narrative that it will be fair. I am injured and yet I am not allowed to use that as an excuse because the show must go on.”
He nods back to Steve understanding the situation. The bright work lights show his shadow nod looking large as if it was going to fight free and eat whoever was in front of him. “How tight should I wrap the ribs?”
The Man who hates Milk stands up and looks down at the doc, “we can worry about that later. There is no stopping someone from targeting them and no amount of tape is going to protect me. I may as well just get used to it. What I will not get used to is the constant failure I have to accept ALL. THE. TIME.”
Suddenly the door to where they are staying opens. The sun brightly shines through, Harrison and The Doc cover their eyes as they watch as Oleg and Jack Marley walk both with rifles on their shoulders. This was definitely not something that would have been expected after Oleg came back to the states with Steve but now Oleg was teaching Jack how to shoot.
It had been quite a few weeks after getting back from Ukraine.
Just days after they entered back into America Steve and Oleg plotted the rescue mission which meant getting weapons, body armor, and blueprints to where Rebecca had been staying. Those days were gone now, and we were left with an Oleg and Jack partnership that confused and bewildered Steve.
“That is confusing,” Harrison says as he points towards the sharp shooters.
The Doc nods in agreement, “very much.”
“I hit the target,” he looks at Oleg, “ok…I hit the edge of the target.”
Oleg nods towards Jack and grabs the rifle from him. He walks over and lays it on the patio table inside the place. He walks back towards the door and sits down on a bucket and looks out a large peephole he must have made at some point.
“How is it going, mon?” Jack asks as he takes a joint from his pocket and walks over to Steve.
Harrison knocks the joint out of his hands, “not in here. As for how I am doing how do you think I am doing? You hear any celebrations or see any fucking cake?” The outburst makes Harrison start to gasp and he holds his ribs in pain.
Jack sees this and nods, “sorry, mon… I was hoping we had a breakthrough but now I am just worried about you.”
Harrison grunts as he holds his ribs. He points to the doctor with his free index finger, “the doc says we need to be more patient.”
“Uh, what about you?”
“I am sleeping in a makeshift Conex box we have put holes for windows in and electrical going off of multiple battery backups with fans everywhere because it is hot outside,” Steve pauses as he seemingly has loss his train of thought, “what was the question?”
“How are you?”
Harrison laughs, “amazing.”
STRONG SARCASM DETECTED.
Oleg turns and watches the conversation from his perch but does not move a muscle. He is listening it seems to learn about American sarcasm. Jack gives him a thumbs up and looks back at Steve. “Will you be able to wrestle, or do you even care about wrestling right now?”
Steve Harrison looks uncertain and shrugs at the question.
Fade
—
That’s the question, isn’t it?
What am I truly focused on right now?
Each War Games I have had personal issues make it difficult for me to keep focus on wrestling. This year I thought it was going to be different but the longer I was in Ukraine the more my mind wandered back to America where Rebecca was waiting…or maybe I hoped she was waiting for me to save her. It is childish of me to believe that, but I need to believe that what is to come is better then the present. I defended MY LSD Title successfully against Bobbinette Carey like I said I would.
Then I was blindsided by Lee Best…
Yea, I know big fucking surprise.
Now I had to defend my title throughout War Games with a broken rib and already had wrestled twenty-eight minutes. The odds were against me and low and behold those odds punched me in the ribs and I was pinned by STRONK…again.
That is tiring to say and think about.
As soon as I was pinned, I didn’t wait around to see what happened. Maybe that was selfish of me to not cheer on my teammates, but I was injured and exhausted and as stated my personal life had overpowered even my LSD title.
I know enough since then to be disgusted by the final two being Christopher America and Tyler Best but that doesn’t mean The Highwaymen just curl up in a ball and roll away. This isn’t the first time any of us have failed and each time we bounce back stronger. Clay Byrd beat STRONK which makes me happy and envious at the same time. I can admit I wish it had been me to defeat him but at least Clay fought hard and brought the HoTV Title into the fold.
Of course, I haven’t congratulated him yet.
Heh.
I haven’t talked to any of them since I left Ukraine because again, I am being a piece of shit. I can admit to putting my concerns over the group right now, but I am hoping they understand that I need to handle this business before I can be at my BEST again.
There is no rest for Steve Harrison though. The ICON Title is back, and I just so happen to be the second ranked wrestler in HOW even with my failure in finishing War Games.
I accept my failings because when I haven’t, I have just continued to fail. If I don’t learn from a loss, then how could I ever learn from a victory? I don’t have a grandfather giving me advantages. I don’t have a father who is one of the most famous wrestlers ever. Nope, I have absolutely nothing but Miracles and a work ethic that leaves most to shame.
Tyler Best has taken HOW by storm and in only his second match in HOW became a champion and survived War Games. This must be all about nature instead of nurture because no father in the Best family has raised a damn thing. They all just suddenly show up with DNA paperwork at the doorstep and Lee then and Mike now uses their newfound son to further their narcissism. It would be sad if it didn’t seem to be extremely successful. I mean this is the Best Family not the Stevens family, right?
That family just bleeds HOW Gold to the point where it sure seems like we are all fighting an uphill battle. Let’s be honest Mike Best was not happy when Tyler accepted the Icon title and let America be World Champion. Guess the family who angers each other stick together though. Nothing is exactly perfect it would seem, but the fact of the matter is that if a Best is a champion that title is more important. Mike will probably come to realize that but before he could he greenlit his greenhorn in facing me. Maybe it was smart since I have been preoccupied but maybe it was a bad decision that will come back to haunt them.
Tyler is a coward.
Tyler is a scrawny kid.
Tyler’s bio is every geek at homes move list when they are playing a wrestling video game. Pick a lane or get ran off the road you bore.
Tyler is a champion and has been trained by some of the greatest HOW wrestlers and Dan Ryan.
That is all the matters. I am not one to complain about where the title comes from, but undeserved confidence will someday bring you face to face with someone who enjoys realigning other peoples spines.
Oh…me?
Yea, I am giddy about doing that.
I have never had a run in with your father. We came close but it never came to be. I will not deny that his retirement disappointed me on a professional level because I remember the man who was once the greatest women’s champion ever and I never got to mix it up with him. Instead, I was a member of The Best Alliance and a tool used by your grandfather. Trust me, I am fully aware he used my desire to be accepted by my father to his benefit.
Lee Best can get ran over by a boulder for all I care.
How the hell does that cockroach keep surviving these beat downs, anyway?
Is he sucking all the stem cells he can get?
Ugh.
Instead, I am left with the far more annoying, tinder swiping, twitter thot hunting Tyler Best. Tyler Best is like when you get rid of a popular person’s personality and are just left with a guy tossing around his family’s money to keep people around him. I feel like there might be a likeable person in there but to get there you would have to spend so much time with him that death would be more acceptable.
I am sure he has his Diet Mike Best dripping in expired milk insults for me.
I am looking forward to some wit because let’s be honest, HOW doesn’t have the most inspiring linguists these days. I like a challenge even if it is from an eighteen-year-old who hasn’t learned what it feels like to lose. You will just fail upwards like every other parasite who has money behind him. It won’t matter at all if you lose because you will continue to get your chances. But for me to win the ICON Title it would be magnificent.
War Games might be over, but The Highwaymen are not. We do not accept what happened and will not scurry off to our corners like those Grapplers did. We still have titles, and we still have a lot of revenge we plan on getting from The Board. Nobody lost their life, Tyler we just came out of it injured and angrier then ever. That title you boast is the true World Title is something I want to rip from those boney fingers of yours. I want your family to seethe and whine when they watch The Miraculous Steve Harrison leave Chaos with the Icon Title and Steve Solex leave with the World Title.
Your War Games victory will mean absolutely nothing.
That is what it is all about.
Lifting yourself up even when you have so many doubts in the back of your mind.
Will she remember?
Am I too late?
Can I forget all of that and focus on you, Tyler?
That is what I worry about. This is what I stay up late unable to sleep thinking about. I don’t sleep well but one thing I always remember is that when I let everything melt away, I am a technician inside that ring. You haven’t gone up against someone like this before. The Suplex Saint is not a lie, it is what I am… what I have trained to become. Then I pause, with a smile coming to my face and I realize, it is also something I really enjoy.
I will give you your first concussion, Tyler.
When we are done the only TAB, you should be worrying about is the one you will have to pay at the hospital.
Well…that and my victory drink at the bar afterwards.