Nothing’s Changed

Nothing’s Changed

Posted on July 5, 2024 at 7:34 pm by John Sektor

The ethereal sound of church music filled the wide, vaulted nave, reverberating off the polished marble floors and ornate stained glass windows. The Gold Standard, adorned with his signature HOTv championship belt, walked with confident strides in his impeccably tailored suit. His daughter, Chloe, matched his pace as they made their way through the grand space, their footsteps echoing off the high stone walls. The atmosphere was both solemn and majestic, a fitting setting for a man of such prestige and power.

A surge of conflicting emotions flooded his being. He was there to mourn the loss of a friend and colleage, but deep down he was also mourning his own defeat at War Games. The desire to emerge victorious in the final ever War Games burned within him, yet fate had other plans. Despite this disappointment, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at still holding on to his HOTv championship. It seemed as though there was an inexplicable connection between himself and the prestigious belt, as if it were meant to be a part of his destiny.

It wasn’t a funeral or memorial. There had been no word of such plans for the legendary, Hall of Famer, Benny Newell. Instead, he was at his local establishment to pay his respects to a man who he held a lot of love in his heart for.

As they made their way through the dimly lit church, the father and daughter duo came to a stop in front of a large, stone table adorned with flickering candles. The gentle glow from the flames cast eerie shadows on the walls, creating a haunting artwork that seemed to come to life. The smell of melted wax and incense filled the air, adding to the mystical atmosphere of the ancient building. They stood there for a moment, taking in the sight before them, before Sektor eventually knelt down in front of them.

Sektor reached for an unlit candle and placed it in front of him. Reaching into the side pocket of his jacket, he retrieved a small photograph of Benny, who was smiling and wearing his signature Santa hat, tipping a glass towards the camera.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asked.

Sektor reaches for long candle lighter and clicks it to ignite a flame. “I’m lighting a candle in memory of my dear friend Benny,” he explained, presenting the flame to the wick and holding it until the candle lit up.

The soft glow of the candle illuminated the photograph, casting Benny’s smiling face in a warm, comforting light. Sektor placed the picture against the base of the candle holder, ensuring it wouldn’t fall.

“Benny was no saint,” Sektor began. “-but he did a lot for me over the years. He sang my praises on the mic every week and forced people to take notice. He was a good friend,” he continued, struggling to put words to his emotions.

Sektor kneeled in silence for a moment, head bowed, as he remembered his friend. Despite Benny’s flaws, he had always been there for Sektor, supporting him through the highs and lows of his wrestling career. Benny had seen Sektor’s potential long before anyone else.

Sektor recalled late nights at the bar with Benny, chatting and laughing over drinks. Benny’s humor and charisma always lifted his spirits after a tough loss in the ring. He would miss those carefree times.

Chloe put a comforting hand on her father’s shoulder.

“I didn’t think you were religious,” she said.

“I’m not. Not really. Neither was he. But I need to process this. I’ve never been good at dealing with loss. I need to pay my respects now and move on, so I can focus on what’s next.”

Chloe looked deep in thought as she considered what her father said. Her green eyes sparkled with the flickering candles reflecting in them as she looked at him.

“Can I light one?”

Sektor raised a single eyebrow, curious as to why she would want to. He handed her the lighter and watched as she lit a candle of her own. His face melted as he saw a single tear roll down her cheek.

“Who’s it for?” he asked.

Chloe didn’t look at him, she just stared at the candle.


Sektor was taken aback. In all of the chaos since she returned he’d completely forgot about her late mother, his ex wife. She was just a baby when they divorced and her mother had passed when she was only five. He was surprised she could even remember her, let alone shed a tear for her.

A heavy sense of duty tugged at Sektor’s heart, urging him to console Chloe in her time of grief. But the bitterness that consumed him from within was a barrier he couldn’t overcome. He turned away, his eyes fixed on the photograph of Benny illuminated by the flickering candle light. In that moment, he couldn’t help but contemplate his own mortality.

“We’re all just like this flame, Chloe,” he croaked, his voice strained with emotion. “Flickering and struggling for oxygen to keep us alive. But eventually, even that won’t be enough to save us from fading into darkness.”

He gazed off into the distance, lost in thought about his journey towards death. The pain of loss weighed heavily on him, but this was different. Sektor knew his own candle was burning low and if he didn’t put forth every effort to achieve his goal, he too would be plunged into eternal darkness with nothing left behind but failure.

Sektor took a deep breath, composing himself. Now was not the time for maudlin thoughts. There was work to be done.

He rose to his feet, brushing off his trousers. Chloe looked up at him, green eyes still shimmering.

“Come on,” he said gruffly, holding out a hand to help her up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chloe allowed him to pull her up. Together they turned and walked back down the long aisle, their footsteps echoing hollowly off the vaulted ceilings.

“Sorry for being so morbid, kid-” he apologised, a genuine tone of regret in his voice.

Sektor held Chloe’s hand as they walked down the aisle, the flickering candlelight fading behind them. Though his heart ached, he knew he had to be strong for his daughter. She had already endured so much loss in her young life.

As they stepped outside into the hazy afternoon sunlight, Sektor took a deep breath. The fresh air helped clear his mind. He looked down at Chloe and squeezed her hand gently.

Just then, his pocket began to buzz. Retrieving his phone he looked at the display and sighed. It was a text message from Lee Best:

You’re defending next show. Warrick Hill. GL. Lee.

Sektor pushed his tongue into his cheek as he stared at the message. He could feel his hand squeezing the phone as he gritted his teeth and feigned to throw it.

Mother-fucker,” he grunted under his breath.

“What is it?” Chloe asked, noticing him becoming irate.

Taking a breath, he let out a long sigh as he stared up at the clouds, shaking his head.

Nothing’s changed..”


Like a bitch with a grudge?


Taking shortcuts?

Bitch attack?

Warrick? I mean this with all due respect. Sincerely. But before War Games came around I didn’t even know who the fuck you were. So I don’t know what shit you’re talking about grudges. I got nothing against you homie. You were just another body in my way.

You gonna bitch and whine because I clapped you from behind? My friend, if you’re looking for good sportsmanship then you signed for the wrong fucking company hermano. I saw an opportunity to take you out and I took it.




If you think that makes me a pussy then I’m alright with that. Because I’ll be looking you dead in the eyes when we meet at Chaos.

Seriously, though. You seem so salty. I got dropped on my fucking head and eliminated by my own team mate. If anyone should be bitter it should be me, right? But, it is what it is and I don’t blame America. I’d have done the same fucking thing given half the chance because we were all in there trying to make it to the end.

No, I’m not bent out of shape over America eliminating me. No, what pisses me off is that instead of being in the number one contenders match I’m having to defend my championship against your sorry ass. The guy who I just fucking pinned at War Games. The guy who’s been here five fucking minutes, earned Jack shit but is getting a shot at the hottest championship on the roster.

I know you’ve done your homework and you’ll know full well what I’ve accomplished both past and present. But I’ve worked my fucking ass off to be the best HOTv champion I can be. Over 260 days I’ve been champion. So many title defences that I’ve lost count. I’ve made it the most difficult prize to achieve yet it seems anybody who’s anybody can get a shot. In fact, the lower down the rankings you are the more chance you have.

What does that do for me, huh?

I’m not saying I don’t like being the champion, because I do. I fucking love it. I’m addicted to it. But I deserve more. The championship deserves more.

I should be in that fucking number one contenders match. I finished top 5, above Hollywood and Hanson but they get a fucking opportunity. I’ve been ranked number one for fucking months, I shouldn’t even have to compete to be number one contender. But still, that isn’t even good enough to get my name in that hat.

And I know what Lee would say. He would say I’m contractually obliged to defend the belt almost every week because that’s the stipulations of the championship.

You know what?

Fuck that!

I’ve beat the acid test. I’ve defended it successfully week after week and proven, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am the perfect HOTv champion. I’ve done more for this championship than any other wrestler has, and even more than Lee has. Therefore I should be making the fucking rules and stipulations.

That is my right as champion!

I told Lee Best before War Games that there has to be change, but I don’t see anything fucking changing. So I’M going to make things change. That’s the power I have as champion and up until now I’ve been a quiet champion. I’ve laced my boots up, gone to work and won and gone home. But that all ends right here right now. I’m done waiting around so I’m going to bang on doors and shout my voice until I’m fucking heard.

Maybe this is Lee’s way of punishing me? He hasn’t said one word to me after I told him how I feel. In fact, he’s carrying on as though nothings happened but we both know he heard me. I’m not stupid, I know I must have pissed him off speaking out of term the way I did.

Shit. When I say it out loud I realise that I’m behaving like Mike. Just an attention seeking child trying to get a reaction out of Daddy. Huh. I get it now. I’m starting to understand Mike a little more because Lee simply drove him to it, just like me. I’m being ignored, overlooked, taken for granted and I’m all out of patients.

When’s it going to be my turn?

Maybe I have fucked myself after all. Well, at least this way I can still have my dignity. I’m done picking up Lee’s dry cleaning. If he wants me to stay in the Alliance then I will, but I aint being no hitman any more. I fight on my terms and when there’s something in it for me!

My clock is ticking hard and I don’t know how much time I have left. Right now, I still feel good but I know too well that my mentality can change like the flick of a switch. I have to know that I’m heading in the direction that I want to go.

I’ve done everything. I’ve won every title. I’ve broken records. I’ve won War Games. I’ve won the LBI. I’ve been inducted into the Hall of Fame…TWICE!

There is only one box left to tick before I call time on my career and that is to have one last run as World champion. That’s it. It’s obvious, but that’s what I want and who can fucking blame me? Who can fucking deny me that opportunity? Have I not earned it? Have I not proven that I deserve a shot, one on one, for the World title?

I legit don’t know what more I can do. I feel like I’ve completed the HOTv championship now. I’ve beaten everyone put before me, some more than once, and when I beat Warrick then he just becomes another name on an increasingly large list.

Don’t get me twisted. I’ve fucking enjoyed this run. It’s been incredible and I don’t want it to end. I’d love nothing more than to get past the year mark. But it’s not enough any more. I don’t want to say I’ve outgrown it, because that sounds disrespectful. But it’s also kinda true. In fact, honestly? I was too big for it in the first place. But I won it and I treasure it and I turned it into a fucking masterpiece.

I can do the same with Big Red, if not even more. I don’t want to give up my pursuit. I don’t want to believe that the chance of me getting a one on one shot isn’t going to happen. I will keep fighting for it until I stop caring.

For fucks sake…I’m John FUCKING Sektor. The single greatest technical wrestler of all time. I’m so fucking good that about 15 years ago I grew a moustache just to see if I could get it over, and it was more famous than half the roster. To this day, the only reason I don’t shave it is because I know that everyone would lose their fucking minds.

What are we – ha – What are we doing here?

I should be in that fucking match!

Shit, Warrick. I’m sorry, this isn’t even about you. You just poured a little gas on a fire that was already blazing. I’m sure you’ll be a worthy contender for the championship. I’ll give you the same respect as I give all my opponents. But I will say this –

-this match best be fucking worth it!

If I’m to miss out on an opportunity for a shot at Big red to defend my belt and headline chaos? Then you best be fucking worth it.

I expect you to bring all of that salt and pent up aggression with you to the ring and take it out on me. Come –


Show me who Warrick Hill really is. Because let me tell you something, hermano –

You’re about to find out exactly who John Sektor is!