One Step

“One step at a time.” 

This is the thought that MJ Flair tries to keep at the front of her mind as she jogs the empty streets early in the morning. By keeping her focus on the task at hand, she’s hoping to outrun the less constructive thoughts that still push their way forward.

She’s sore, but it was just the usual post-match soreness from pushing herself as hard as she can. If nothing else, she was cleaned up and on her way out the door before Andy Murray had even left the medics. Seeing him on the table getting his knee wrapped made her walk out the door with her head held just a little higher. 

Advantages of youth: she can bounce back a hell of a lot easier than most of her co-workers.

Good thing, too – it’s all she’s got these days.

“Stop.”

Her cheeks flush from both exertion and cold wind. A knit hat covers her head, keeping her hair from blowing every which way. The few people crazy enough to be out on the street with her are similarly bundled, with all eyes focused straight ahead.

“One step at a time.”

Eyes on the prize.

Long as that prize is shoulders down, count of three.

“Stop.”

MJ’s career this year can be looked at as a near – masterpiece or a near – disaster, using the exact same metrics. It’s possible nobody else in the history of the sport can say the same thing, and she’s still struggling with how to get a handle on the stumbling blocks of her career. Most of her peers in High Octane Wrestling would say she’s lost the edge that she came in with.

Or she never had it.

Or she’s worthless without the Industry.

Or she’s worthless without her family name. 

“Stop.”

She’s young. She can bounce back. 

Not just from the lingering effects of a hard-fought match, but from a rough patch of career. She’s done it before – more than once. And she’s done it the same way she always has. 

“One step at a time.”

The fact of the matter is, MJ’s losses have been just as much bad luck and bad timing on her part as they have been skill and experience on her opponents’. They’ve gotten the better of her, but they’ve had to work for it.

They’ve bled for it. They’ve paid for it. 

The fact of the matter is, there are World Champions and Hall of Famers. There are legends of the sport of professional wrestling who would look at MJ’s losses and tell her they’re no big deal.

Jack Harmen. Dan Ryan. Mike Best. Lindsay Troy. Andy Murray. This is a fucking Murderers’ Row of professional wrestling. Anyone who slut shames anyone for losing to one of these five needs to be shown their way out of the sport on the pitiful side of a stretcher. 

Anyone that would reduce them to just a set of numbers doesn’t know the first thing about why this sport matters. 

And yet…

“Stop.”

What’s working against MJ Flair as it relates to the setbacks she’s had so far this year is the fact that most people won’t be in a position to zerg rush Murderer’s Row in the span of two and a half months, one after another after another, with the only victory being over some guy named Rick Dickulous and another guy named Mat Classic. 

Sorry. Matt Klazzic. Jesus fucking christ. 

And who knows – there might be another member of Murderers’ Row about to be added to the lineup. 

Maybe. 

“One step at a time.”

This Lethal Lottery is being promoted as a completely random event. Every title except for Farthington’s is on the line, along with two guaranteed spots in War Games. It’s possible MJ will find herself across the ring again from Mike Best. From Max Kael. 

She pinned him in War Games, which guaranteed he would lose his World Title. He won the LSD Title match from her at Rumble at the Rock. Title or no title, MJ has been itching for just one more shot at him. 

And he’s absolutely someone who belongs on Murderers’ Row. Her long term goal has been to regain the LSD Championship; she has the chance of either getting the opportunity to win it back here or the opportunity to qualify for War Games and a chance to repeat history. 

Just one chance, as her mom once wrote. 

Or the Hollywood Bruvs, defending 24K’s High Octane Tag Team Championships on their behalf. 

Damn. Thought the Bruvs would have more self-respect than to be errand boys. But the odds are not in favor of that. MJ and Jack Harmen have a guaranteed World Tag Team Championship  shot somewhere down the road; the odds of them randomly being set against the Bruvs are incredibly low. 

Assuming it’s actually a random pairing. 

“Stop.”

Fact is, with this event being promoted as a lottery, there’s nothing to be gained by fixing the matchups. Mike Best might be a douche, but he’s an upfront douche and his father has always been a man of his word as far as MJ is concerned. She’ll be booked in a match based on the released guidelines. 

Or she won’t. And that’s a possibility.

It’s possibly that her training – her preparation for the Lethal Lottery will be wasted, with her name simply not being drawn. It’s a possibility that Lee Best brought up during the post-show announcement. 

Like she said, Lee’s always dealt straight as far as her experience.

But that doesn’t matter. The wins, the losses, the Murderers’ Row. The stakes of what could happen if she isn’t booked. Or what happens if she’s booked, and she loses. 

Or if she wins. 

What matters is being there. What matters is stepping foot into an arena and a ring that has gradually turned more and more into hostile territory, with or without an opponent, with her head up and her body honed. 

Win, lose, or watch from the sidelines, MJ Flair is prepared to toss her name into the Lethal Lottery the same way she’s handled every challenge that’s come before her so far, through success, failure, World Championships and brain – ringing concussions. 

“One step at a time.”