You probably imagine winning a main event, and retaining your LSD championship, would leave you feeling nothing but positive emotions. Elation. Euphoria. Excitement. Relief. For a very short moment in time that is true. You spend a period training your body to be ready for the fight, your mind to be focussed on winning and accepting no other outcome, but when you get in there and the guy’s throwing the kitchen sink at you, you’re left thankful that you managed to survive to fight another day.
For me, that moment quickly passes and I’m left with a sense of complete loneliness. I know, boo-hoo, sad panda Sektor time. Well, I’ve come to understand that what I am experiencing in these moments is nothing more than simple chemistry. As the adrenaline wears off you begin a period of a come down, and we all know I know a thing or two about those. It’s why rockstars fill the void with drugs and alcohol and wrestlers are no exception. When the buzz of a live crowd and melting peoples faces with their music suddenly stops, what is there to bridge the two ends of the spectrum?
I would usually at least be greeted by some manly handshakes and a firm slap on the back from my so-called BA brothers, but that’s gone. I can’t rely on Clay and for some strange reason the rest of them don’t seem to be giving me the time of day any more. Of course, I’m being sarcastic seeing as I berated every single one of them from a sun lounger in the Caribbean. Well fuck’em, I’m a leader and if they don’t like the truth then they can suck my dick.
I surround myself with my own people now. Adam Ellis, the potential future of my legacy. My team of trainers, nutritionists, physios and scientists, they are all on my payroll so I know they can be trusted. This is the beginning of a new chapter in my life where I can build a dynasty. Surrounding yourself with the right people is crucial to being the best version of yourself possible. The BA is toxic, always has been always will. But it’s nothing without me. Besides, it’s a means to an end and so long as I’m winning? I’m reaping the benefits.
At least that’s how it should be.
As I sat backstage, resting my face in the LSD championship, the word soon came in that my name was booked for the go home show. I’m not gonna lie, Zion put me through my paces and I was gonna feel second of it for at least three days before I could train effectively. But no rest for the wicked. No easy pass to rest up and get primed and ready for the big dance at bottom line.
No, no, John Sektor has to compete in a tag match against Teddy Fucking Palmer, one of my opponents. One of the men who would take his chance to cripple me before Bottom line if he gets the opportunity. Alongside his friend, yes friend, who will happily have his back in said tag team match.
Oh yes, the match is being officiated by the other guy I have to defend my LSD championship against at Bottomline. The same guy who made it abundantly fucking clear that it was every man for himself and had no intentions of working with me to get Teddy out of the way.
Am I sounding bitter yet?
Well that’s not even the best part, amigo’s, because my partner? The man, wait fuck that, the KID, whom I have to compete and rely on in this match? Is the same little cockroach who has custody of my only daughter. I mean you just can’t write this shit, right?
Now the old Sektor would dwell on all the negatives of this situation. However, the new Sektor? He’s gonna look real hard to find the positives..
“As you can see, everything is above board and accounted for.”
Around two years ago I was sitting behind a conference table at a fancy law firm in Tampa. By my side was the best lawyer I could afford, which wasn’t much, considering I’d relapsed just after winning the World title at Wargames and slipped back into the life of hard drugs and no work.
Across the table from us were the Kael family lawyers, Fartharder and Shitemoore. Now all lawyers are bent, parasitic, pricks, but these two were by far the sleaziest pair of scumbags I had ever encountered in my entire life. But what did you expect? It was Max.
I eyeballed the pair of them as my lawyer went over all the paperwork in front of him. Fartharder was tall and lanky, whilst Shitemoore was short and fat. A modern day fucking Laurel and Hardy.
Behind them was an entire entourage of lawyers, standing their like an army of fucking undertakers in their black suits with brill creamed hair. It was for intimidation purposes. ‘Look at us! We have more resources than you so don’t even try it!” All I saw was a bunch of redundant looking mother fuckers standing there awkwardly.
“Well?” I asked quietly, leaning towards my lawyer.
I could tell by the look in his eyes and the hesitation to answer that it wasn’t going to be good news.
“It’s all here,” he regrettably replied.
“So I’m afraid this has all been a very expensive waste of time for you, Mr Sektor,” sneered the nasaly voice of Fartharder, enjoying his own smug.
I chose to ignore him. “How can this be possible? How the fuck, could a man like Max get custody of a child? Surely something fishy is going on with all of this?”
“Careful now,” the deep voice of the fat fucking Shitemoore bellowed, smirking at me in a way that made my blood boil. “We take slander very seriously here.”
It was then that my lawyer gestured for me to come in close so he could whisper.
“I don’t know what to tell you, John. All the documents, the papertrail, everything! It’s all here in black and white. They have legal custody of Chloe,” he explained, sounding almost as flabbergasted as I was.
“But how? Surely they would need my consent? I’m her fucking FATHER!” I whispered, though probably loud enough for them to hear.
“John, you surrendered that right the moment the courts ruled you to be an unfit guardian. Besides, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate..”
As he said that I went cold. That fucking bitch! I had to shrug it off, this wasn’t the time to get angry about my cunt of an ex-wife.
“But you read Helens will! She clearly stated that in the event of her death..”
“I know-I know, that ‘Chloe would go live with her father,’ naming you as that man. But it doesn’t matter. In the eyes of the law you are no longer her legal caregiver.”
I sat back, staring at him with disbelief. In my mind I was her father. She has my blood running through her veins and that trumped any piece of shitty paper on that desk.
“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?”
He swallowed hard, turning to face little and large across the table.
“Ok gentlemen, it’s clear that there are no issues with the paperwork regarding Chloe’s custody,” he began. “But my client wouldn’t be here right now if he didn’t want his daughter back. So is there any way your client would be willing to negotiate some form of custody? Even if it’s just some visitation rights to begin with..”
“Absolutely not!” the fat one (Shitemoore) blurted out bluntly.
“No, I’m afraid our client has made it quite clear that he has no interest in allowing Mr Sektor anywhere near his daughter..”
“HIS daughter?” I yelled. I couldn’t help it, I was seething by that point. “Mother-fucker, I piece of paper doesn’t make that lunatic her father. I’M her fucking father!”
“John, calm down,” whispered my lawyer nervously.
“No, I won’t fucking calm down this is ridiculous. I’m her fucking father and I have rights!”
I slammed my fist on the table for good measure.
“What’s it gonna take, hmm? Money? How much?”
I was desperate by that point and all sense of rationale had gone. No amount of money in the world could compensate for the enjoyment Max was getting from playing this evil game with me.
“Please,” sneered Fartharder. “Do you even have any money left? Or have you injected it all?”
That was it!
I lunged straight across the table and tackled the lanky bastard to the floor. I was screaming like a lunatic and choking the motherfucker out with my bare hands. The room erupted into panic and chaos as every single member of their firm seemed to be trying to pry me off him. I sent elbows and fists flying in their direction like a mad man and I busted more than two or three lips and noses.
I hated losing, but losing my daughter, in this way?
I completely fucked myself from having any hope of challenging this. Fartharder and Shitemoore typed up a quick contract assuring that they wouldn’t press assault charges provided I did not seek any further claims against their client. I was on parole and this would have sent me back to the can. There was only one word for it really..
“You never told me you had a daughter.”
I was back in Missouri. I had no reason to go back there other than the strange attraction I had to Regan. Here we were, sat in a bar staring into one another’s eyes. She was making love to another glass of wine whilst I drank soda water with a little lime. She was even more stunning than I remembered her. It was a strange sensation for me. After my divorce I made a ‘hit it and quit it’ rule for myself. The only time I’d broke that rule until now was when Kirsta and I were hate fucking one another.
“You never asked,” I grunted, trying to think of a way to change the subject.
“Hmm,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me inquisitively. “The last time we had a drink, I seem to remember you saying that you have no children..”
“..so to speak,” I corrected her, smirking as I realised I was being smart for once.
Her eyes smiled, telling me I was being naughty. I just wanted to rip her clothes off there and then, and wear her like a mask.
“Don’t get clever with me, Mr Sektor. You know what I mean.”
“Look, she isn’t my daughter any more, okay? Sutler is her guardian now. That’s how it is,” I said bluntly. I needed her to know that this wasn’t a subject I enjoyed bringing up, but women have a nasty habit of wanting to dig into your soul to try and shed light on the darkness.
“That must have been really hard for you,” she said sympathetically, reaching across the table and placing her delicate hand on top of mine.
I snatched it away like a petulant child. “Don’t do this!”
“What?” she gasped.
I couldn’t even look at her and as I turned sharply the acidic muscles all over my body lit on fire, causing me to visibly grimace.
“Aww, poor baby, you really are hurt aren’t you?” she mocked playfully.
“I’m just a little stiff,” I replied, playing down the impact that wrestling has on my aging and war torn body.
“Really? Well you know, I have the perfect remedy for things that are..stiff,” she winked, sipping from her wine seductively.
“I bet you do you naughty bitch,” I smiled, drinking my clean glass of fluid.
“Mind out of the gutter, mister. I’m talking about alcohol. When are you going to loosen up and share a real drink with me?”
I shook my head. She of all people should have respected my discipline and dedication to my training.
“You really are the devil in disguise aren’t you?”
She smiled as though she enjoyed that comparison, which both worried me and turned me on.
“Tell you what,” I continued. “When, I retain my title at Bottomline? I’ll share a drink with you to celebrate.”
Her eyes lit up like I’d just given her a Tiffany engagement ring. Wait til I offer her anal.
“Well, aren’t I a lucky girl? I can’t wait to see what you’re like when you’ve loosened up a bit.”
“I’m not so sure you’d like it. I can be an angry drunk,” I admitted, but I got the sense that she liked danger.
We shared a silence for a while. It was actually nice that we could both enjoy each other’s company for a moment without having to say a word. There’s nothing I hate more than idle fucking chit chat just to fill a void. We’re not on the fucking radio so if you don’t have anything worth saying? Don’t fucking say it!
“Does it bother you? You know, having to team with the man who has your daughter?”
“First of all, he’s not a man. He’s a boy. A little brat bastard who craves the attention his two Hall of Fame Daddy’s never gave him. Secondly? What do you think?”
She gave me a knowing nod, but I doubt she really knew just how I felt about having to work with him.
“So what are you going to do?”
I shrugged as though it was no big deal, because in truth? It wasn’t.
“I’m a professional. He and I are facing a common enemy with common interests. He wants to gain some leverage over Fuse ahead of his World title defence, and I the same with Palmer. As long as he and I stick to the script then we will get through this match and that will be it. I have no intention of breaking focus from my own objectives.”
A nodded and pouted her mouth. “That’s very mature of you,” she said, as though she didn’t quite buy it.
“We are three weeks away from Bottomline. This isn’t the time to go throwing emotions into the mix. It’s a time to be objective. It’s also time for me to show him that, although he has the World title on his shoulder?”
I leaned over the table and this caused Regan to intuitively do the same.
“..I’m better than him!”
The smile slowly crept across her face and she was giving me the ‘fuck me’ eyes that I was looking for.
“Come on,” I said, gingerly getting up from my seat.
“What? Where are we going?”
“I may be stiffer than a corpse right now,” I continued, slipping on my jacket. “But I’m still capable of throwing you around your house like a rag doll.”
“He seem okay to you?” Adam asked, as he and John Durnian, Sektor’s personal trainer, watched from the side of the yard as Sektor trained. Sektor had affectionately nicknamed his John, JD, to save any confusion between himself and him.
“What do you mean?”
Ellis continued to watch his mentor as he dragged a wooden pallet loaded with weights like a horse working the fields. Sektor’s eyes burned with an animal-like focus as he grit his teeth and powered his way across the yard with the load.
“I dunno, he just seems kind of off,” Adam replied, chewing his lip with concern.
“Honestly, dude? I really don’t know him that well. I mean you’ve spent more time with him. Does he seem okay to you?”
“I mean, he’s an intense guy, you know? But since he found out about this tag match he seems even more intense?”
JD smiled as Sektor uncoupled the load from the harness on his back, going straight to the next part of the course they had set up and skipping his way through some tyres.
“I mean he’s training like a demon right now. Whatever it is that’s bothering him? It’s clearly fueling his motivation. And that’s all that matters, right?”
Adam had a look of concern. He knew his mentor’s history. He was a bright kid and had done his homework, learning about the personality of the man who would be shaping him into a better version of himself. He knew well how volatile and unpredictable Sektor could be, especially when something became personal to him. They had worked so hard as a team preparing for Bottomline and he was invested so much in the process that he would hate for something to derail his mentor.
“COME ON SEK, YOU’RE FUCKING KILL IT!” yelled “Dudes a fucking machine, look at him!”
Adam looked on in admiration as his mentor weaved in and out of obstacles with swift speed, demonstrating that he wasn’t allowing his age to affect his agility.
“You guys must feel really privileged to be working with someone like him, huh?” JD asked, shaking his head in amazement as Sektor powered his way up a climbing wall.
“What do you mean, you guys?” Adam asked, narrowing his brow with confusion in JD’s direction.
JD cocked his head to the side, seeming genuinely surprised by Ellis’ confusion. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“You’re gonna have some friends soon, buddy. Seem’s he and Ms Madsen are starting their own wrestling academy.”
Connor, hermano, you wondered why I never got back to you when you said the same tired and predictable shit about me that everyone does. You want to know why?
Because you weren’t on my fucking radar, that’s why. Like seriously, who the fuck are you to me? I am John SekTOR. The man. The myth. The fucking LEGEND! I am the Gold Standard, the technical wrestling machine, the Hall of Famer, the list goes on and on mi amigo.
And who are you? What was it that Dane called you?
..the video game guy?
Now. NOW, you are on my radar. The second you entered the World title picture I began to pay attention. When you look past all the stupid video game puns and gimmicks, underneath all that shit is a very credible wrestler who I am now taking seriously. So do not worry, I will see you when you stand across the ring from me on Saturday.
See, Sutler thinks that he is going to isolate you and I am going to isolate Teddy because that is what this match is supposed to be for us.
But no, I have other ideas and fuck that snot nosed little prick if he thinks he’s dictating how this plays out. Last time I checked? That was my ring and I’m the mother fucking general. So listen carefully, mi hermano.
Every disrespectful comment you made about me? I’m going to smack it out of your mouth. I am going to stretch you from one side of the ring to the other until you’re crying with pain and banging your little gamer hand on the canvas. Then you will finally understand who John Sektor is. Just like every man or woman who has ever been in the ring with me does. There is a reason why I earn respect in the ring, Connor, and that is because I am a fucking artist at hurting people.
I am going to expose you for what you are Connor. A fish out of fucking water, wrestling in a position which you have no place to be in. You are lucky! Lucky that Lee Best has been kind enough to acknowledge your efforts at War Games by giving you this opportunity to challenge for the World title at Bottomline.
Because when I look at the rankings? I’m higher than you. So when you lose at Bottomline? Which you will! I will have beaten Teddy Palmer and Clay Byrd in the same night and will have earned the opportunity to do what no one else in the company could do. Which is take the World title from Sutler Reynolds-Kael.
As for you Teddy? I suggest you just stay out of my way amigo. If you can. Because I’f I get so much of a sniff of a chance to hurt you before Bottom line I’ll take it. Then you can have another excuse for why you lost to me, hmm?
Clay? Yes, that’s right, I’m not about to forget the most important factor in this match. Clay, I’m going to give you ONE last opportunity to pull your weight for Best Alliance. At Bottomline your either with me or against me. And if you are against me? You’re against the BA and when I retain I will personally see to it that the only time you’ll ever see the inside of a BA locker room again?
..is when we’re curb stomping you into the fucking floor!
I’m not fucking around kids.
Sektor OoooOOO–ahhh FUCK this fucking shit!