The SUV pulled away from the parking lot. Sektor looked out of the tinted windows thoughtfully as he listened to the muffled hum of the engine, barely audible by the soundproofing of the vehicle. He felt conflicted. He had just attacked his former protege, partner and friend Adam Ellis. It felt like he had just beaten up his own son and for once in his life he was feeling some shred of remorse for his actions.
He had always been good at dismissing emotions. Emotions caused weakness and needed to be channelled correctly in the ring. There was always a fine line between winning and losing where emotions were concerned and Sektor had spent many years perfecting how to repress them.
He could still feel the tension in his arms, back and neck from where he had stretched Adam relentlessly.
This had felt different. He had mentally psyched himself up before the attack and adrenaline gave him the all important nudge he needed to unapologetically attack his former student. Now that the drug was wearing off he was struggling to unpack his feelings. He tried to take his mind elsewhere and put a lid on it. There was nothing he could do. The deed had been done and any sniff of a potential reunion with Adam had gone up in flames. Problem was, there wasn’t much else to do except be trapped with your own thoughts as the SUV cruised towards its destination.
He was back on that plane again.
7 days ago
Sektor’s match with Zach Kostoff was over. His title had been successfully defended against a tough young competitor, but in the end he made him submit and it was over. It was the opening match so Sektor had hit the showers and gotten dressed. He lined up his equipment on the bench, shined his boots, and finished getting ready to leave early so he could hop back on the Alliance’s private jet back to Miami and to his home comforts.
Sektor’s plans for a swift exit were derailed by a runner informing him that Lee Best, God of HOW, himself, had requested his presence in his office. Sektor left his bags in the locker room, rolled his eyes at the EPU agent standing guard outside the locker room doors, and adjusted the collar of his shirt. This wasn’t just going to be a pat on the back. When you get summoned by God, there’s always a good reason. Lee liked formality so Sektor made sure to swap his suit jacket for his black and 97red letterman jacket when he went into speak with the boss. The HOTV title hung over his shoulder to accessorise his image as a champion and leader.
He remained calm as he made his way through the backstage of the arena. Sektor was hoping this wasn’t just going to be another lecture about taking care of himself.
He knocked on the door and waited for Lee’s voice to invite him in. When he did, he forcefully wore a confident smile on his face before entering the room.
“Ayyy, there he is!” Lee warmly greeted, ushering him into the office. “Get over here!”
Sektor smiled and calmly closed the door behind him before approaching Lee’s desk. The God of HOW was wearing his usual smart attire and 97red tinted shades to conceal his damaged and scarred eyes. The boss embraced him with a warm but firm hug, slapping him on the back before patting his shoulders and gesturing for him to take a seat.
“Great fucking job tonight, sir” Lee continued, rummaging in his bottom draw.
He pulled out a bottle of Woodford reserve and two crystal whisky tumblers.
“Apologies, this is all I have. A gift from Benny,” Lee explained, pouring out two healthy measures of the bourbon.
“That’s perfect, thank you. I’m quite partial to Woodford reserve,” Sektor admits, typically always preferring single malt scotch.
Lee placed a glass down in front of Sektor and held up his own.
“It warms me inside to know that, somewhere? Somewhere, Chris Kostoff has just had to watch his son tap out at your hands. Fucking beautiful,” he laughed, taking a sip.
Sektor smirked and gratuitously nodded as he took a sip of his own, placing the glass back down on Lee’s solid oak desk carefully.
“So!” Le continued, resting his hands on his desk and giving the Gold Standard his full attention. “As you know I’m a man of my word and I told you that win or lose? You would get the week off next week. So that’s exactly what you are getting, so enjoy the comforts of my home without having to worry about defending that title next week.”
Sektor nodded appreciatively but felt conflicted. On one hand he knew he needed a rest. His body had been through a series of attacks over the past few weeks and the physicality that Kostoff brought to their match hadn’t helped. On the other hand he was on a heater and winning and momentum was everything in wrestling.
Sektor then found himself frowning and couldn’t hide it. He sensed something.
“What’s wrong?” Lee asked.
“No way you called me in here to have a drink and tell me I got the week off,” he explained, smirking. “What do you need?”
Lee was now smirking and wagging a finger in Sektor’s direction.
“Ah, you know me so well,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair and remained relaxed. “You might not be competing next week, but I do have an assignment for you.”
Sektor remained calm on the outside, but inside he was starting to become anxious. Usually an ‘assignment’ meant taking somebody out, and he had an idea about who that someone might be.
“What is it?”
Lee lingered for a moment, smiling and watching Sektor carefully as though preparing to try and read him like you would in a poker game.
The name alone was enough information to confirm that Sektor was right. He nodded slowly and kept quiet. He knew this day was coming but was perhaps hoping that it wouldn’t. This was the real reason why he was given the week off. Lee had planned this all along. He knew that the next MVW pay-per-view was coinciding with the next episode of Chaos, and was taking an opportunity to enact his revenge on Ellis.
“It’s time, John. Time we teach that punk a lesson,” Lee explained, almost spitting his words as if a bad taste was forming in his mouth.
“Why me?” Sektor asked, without thinking.
Lee spread his arms as if to say ‘you serious?’
“Who else? It has to be you, John.”
Sektor just continued to nod but was now looking at the floor. He was conflicted. He had felt insulted by Adam’s attempts to play down his involvement in his development in recent weeks, even feeling hurt by it. He was angry. But he didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’m sensing you’re not comfortable with this?” Lee probed.
Sektor slowly brought his eyes from the floor and his own thoughts to meet Lee. He shrugged.
“I’ll get it done.”
Lee grimaced uncomfortably, not seeming convinced by Sektor’s response.
“I thought you would want this? After he insulted me, HOW and even you? I thought you’d jump at the chance to give him a kicking? Looking at you now? Well, you don’t look like the cold hearted killer that I thought you were. This attack needs to be executed right. And the message I am sending has to be delivered by you, or it loses all impact.”
Sektor took his time, choosing to take a slow sip of bourbon and savour the taste before swallowing, bearing his teeth.
“Like I said. I’ll get it done!”
Back in the SUV (Present day)
He had made many difficult decisions, where relationships had been concerned, over the course of his career and life.
Ending his partnership with Jatt was tough to stomach. He felt guilty for using Jatt as a way back to the top and tarnishing the friendship they had built together. How could he be so selfish? Abandoning his daughter in pursuit of his own personal goals was perhaps the most heartbreaking decision he ever made. He told himself it was easier this way but deep down he knew that wasn’t true.
Adam was supposed to be his redemption song, someone who would carry on his legacy and teachings, but instead Sektor had been given orders to take him out. Now, here he lay crippled and alone – there was no chance for redemption or passing on his lessons anymore. His legacy was, tragically, going to die with him.
Why don’t you TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL?
I really don’t know how to respond. I don’t understand it, or exactly where all of that came from? I mean, what’s the overall message here, Evan? That I think I’m the greatest thing in the world and in denial about the fact that nobody gives a fuck about me? That I’m boring? That I have designs on myself that no one else seems to agree with?
That’s more or less what everyone says about me, including your slightly more Vanilla friend Rhys Townsend. Everyone seems to have this shared opinion about me but I always give them the same answer.
I don’t give a fuck! I am who I am and I make no apologies for it.
You think I didn’t ask the same questions when Lee asked me to come back? ‘Am I just a placeholder?’ ‘Am I just making up the numbers.’ ‘Is Lee just desperate?’
I’ve been over all of that. I’ve been to the darkest parts of my mind and battled the insecurities. Do you know what I landed on?
I’m a champion!
So who gives a fuck?
Here’s some truth for you though, Evan. In spite of every doubt I’ve had about myself or my place in this business since coming back? There is one thing that I am 100% sure of. If Lee Best had called me when I was retired and asked me to come back, and I had said to him:
“On one condition, boss. Cut Evan Ward from the Best Alliance and give me his spot.”
Do you know what his response would have been?
In a fucking heartbeat he would have done exactly that. Now you can choose to disregard that as me blowing smoke up my own ass if you want to. But I know how much my own stock is really worth, in spite of what everyone else thinks. There is only one person who matters in this business and one opinion who I ever need to be positive towards me:
You’re gone. You’re out. You’ve lost your privileges and you are putting all the blame on me. You look at me and you look at yourself and you can’t understand why I am where I am and why you are at the bottom of the roster, chilling with the likes of Scott Stevens, Xander Azula and Zach Kostoff.
And let’s just be clear, I am sat sixth in the rankings and I am the reigning, defending, HOTV champion. Not because everything comes so easily to me. No, you must have missed a big chunk of narrative around that, probably because you find me too boring to pay attention. But everything I have done since I have returned has been one big fucking struggle.
I have had to grind, harder than I have ever grinded in my life to be where I am today. I will always try hard to win. I don’t try hard to make people like me, because I don’t care.
You cheapened your letter by making fun of ‘the stache.’
Let me tell you something about this, ‘paedostache,’ as you put it. There’s countless times when I have looked in the mirror and thought to myself, “should I shave it off?” “Is it done now?” “Is it time to let go?” “Does it look stupid?”
The answer is always, a resounding NO!
Once upon a time this moustache had more heat than the World champion. Again, no smoke blowing, that’s fucking FACTS! It has become part of my identity. My legend. It’s part of what makes me Iconic.
You, merely being a competitor for my title put me on the defensive. But threaten to touch the moustache? I’d break your fucking neck before you even got the chance.
And what was all that about anyway? Just another lame attempt to try and bring me down? To try and make me look stupid? The only person who looks stupid here, Evan, is you.
Once upon a time I respected you Evan. I still cite you as the opponent who I had the best ever Iron man match with, for this very championship no less. And I’ve had two incredible Iron man matches with Jatt Starr. The man who will soon seal your fate as your career hangs on a knife edge. I always respected you as a wrestler and competitor. One of the greatest in my eyes, with slightly more personality than your counterpart Rhys Townsend.
But if this is what you’ve become? This..
Someone who tried to get cheap heat by running a comedy sketch about me? An attempt to undermine me or dissect my great character? Was that supposed to be funny? Maybe it’s because I was on the receiving end of the attempted joke but I thought it fell flat on its face. I’m sure you and everyone else got a little giggle from it, so well done. But you’re shitty shot in the dark at being creative won’t be enough to carry you across the finish line when we meet at Chaos 45.
Maybe you’ve succeeded in making me look stupid? I promise you, when the bell rings and I’m still holding the HOTV championship? It’ll be you, Evan. It’ll be you feeling pretty fucking stupid.
As for the jacket?
It was never yours. You see, when it comes to Alliance? YOU, were the placeholder..
Now, forever and fucking always better than everyone!