JC Vs. Steve Matthews

    All that can be heard is the sound of a fan blowing throughout the locker room as Steve Matthews sits and reflects. He thinks about the last few weeks and the mixed emotions wash over him. On one hand he was somewhat able to vanquish some inner demons and show that the true Steve Matthews isn’t the douchebag that everyone had assumed him to be. That part is something Matthews can take pride in. For the longest time he would be such a condescending asshole and while that made for great television wherever he wrestled, he always felt like he was a little out of his own skin. There he was, working hard and showing up every week but everyone would boo him because of his attitude. That never really sat well with him but he did it because he felt like it was the only way to get noticed. He had lost sight of the man Steve Matthews was at heart. 

    He smiles at the thought of the past ways he tried to get noticed. He can still remember going into a coffee shop and stopping the barista, claiming that he could make the coffee better because he was Steve Matthews and he was better than them. Pretty cheesy and unbelievable stuff if you think about it but yet he did it. Did it get some buzz? Yes. Did he feel like he was the real Steve Matthews? No. That’s not because that guy wasn’t Steve Matthews. It was because he didn’t even know who Steve Matthews was at that time! But now, here in the locker room after WAR, as a bloody mess, full of stitches and staples, well Steve Matthews knows who he is. 

    He rubs the towel on his face which is covered in his blood and sweat which means so much to him. Sweat means hard work and hard work means he’s doing his job. That is what Steve wants. He wants to be the hardest working guy in the room that will work hard and do his job. He wants to be the guy that management can count on...even if carnage wrestling doesn’t see it now. 

    He leans back and slams his head against the wall, causing a ringing in his head that most would be annoyed and upset by, but in this moment, well the ringing is bliss for Matthews. It silences the voice in his head just telling him that he’s plateaued and this is as high as he is going to get. The voice that tells him everyone is right and he’s just a slightly above average wrestler that has maxed out his potential and is on the way down.  

    He hates himself right now for passing out and losing his match with Alex Winter but the truth is, all the strides he’s made as a man mean nothing if he can’t rise up professionally and personally. 

    This is his dream and he wants nothing more than to be the best but you can’t be the best if you can’t produce when it counts. Matthews stands up and walks over to the mirror in the locker room and stares at himself. “Where do we go from here?” He asks himself out loud. A question that if he had uttered the words "I Quit" would have been unbearable and unanswerable, however deep inside Matthews now knows he has the heart at least to find the answers. 

    It’s a couple of nights later and Matthews is laying in his bed, still showing the battle scars from the I Quit match, he's desperately trying to get some sleep when his thoughts are interrupted. His thoughts are interrupted by a voice. They’re all laughing at you. 

    Matthews opens his eyes and sits up. He looks around the room and there’s no one there. He shakes his head, confused at what he just heard. He must’ve been starting to drift off and it was a dream. He lays back down and rolls over when….I know you heard me. They’re all laughing at you! 

    Matthews opens his eyes and stares at the wall, trying not to move. Maybe someone is here. He listens, trying to hear another sound. You lay there and you just let them. You’re pathetic. 

    Matthews shoots up again. “Who’s there?!” 

    You know who’s here Steve! It’s the voice that you try to block out every day. It’s me. It’s the real you! It’s the you that you locked up in your head some time ago. 

    Matthews stares straight ahead and shakes his head. “Shut up!” 

    That’s right. Get angry! 

    Steve rolls out of bed and walks out of the room. Trying to block out the voice and running into the kitchen. Maybe some water will help him wake up more and end this. He runs himself a glass of water and downs it but almost spits it out when. 

    Did you really think water was going to get me to go away? 

    Leave you alone? Why? We are just getting started! It’s only a matter of time till you give way to me again Steve. It’s only a matter of time till you start hurting innocent people! 

    Oh you may think you aren’t but you know you are. I’ve watched you laugh at me over the past few weeks and talk about how your new mentality is better for you but we both know it’s not! I wouldn’t have let Winter get that result. I definitely wouldn’t have let anyone walk away from any match! 

    I’m the edge you lost. I’m the part of you that hasn’t turned into a giant pushover. 

    I've seen the words of others, You and I both know I wouldn’t have let them happen! I would’ve put them in their place long ago. 

    That’s right, get angry. Give it to me Steve. Let me run the show! You will reach heights you’ve never seen before. 

    That’s what you say now but what happened when you lost to Alex Winter? You can’t win an I quit match without me. 

    Bullshit? Just watch because you know I will. We both know you’re only a few losses away and then I’ll be back in full control. Your fragile psyche can only hold on for so long. 

    Matthew takes a second then looks up with a genuine smile, one that shows in the eyes as well as the mouth "Never felt better, for the first time in years I feel like I'm in control and not just a pawn in a game controlled by others." 

    The smile is returned by Jessica "Well get a couple of beers out the fridge and enjoy the damn moment then because it's been way too long since I've seen you properly smile." 

    I want you to understand that there are seasons to your life. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. It’s a fairly common phrase. But I find it to be especially true in my life. I’ve been through so many seasons the past few years it’s hard to dispute the cliché as anything BUT true.  

    Sometimes things end when we don’t want them to. The suddenness and the hole it leaves can come very close to breaking a person. I know losing control almost got the best of me. But there’s an opposite side to this too. Sometimes things just linger. They won’t go away no matter how hard you try. They just fester and annoy until it consumes your life and there is no possible way to move forward because your every move in life revolves around this dark cloud hanging over your head. It suffocates you and no matter how hard you try it won’t go away.   

    It’s quite simply the way of life. The good is fleeting, while the bad is anchored into our lives. We have to learn to find beauty in ashes. By doing so, we find the true way to be happy. The best way to get that dark cloud out from above you, is to act like it doesn’t exist in the first place. Bad is only as bad as the power that we give it right?  

    But after the fight with Alex, my mind was cleared. Despite my loss, I was content that I showed the world that I was not going to quit on being a better man.  

    What's next is no small task. I have to fight JC in my first match since the loss to Winter.  

    This is my dream, and I’m finally realizing it. It’s time for Steve Matthews to begin carving his own niche out in the carnage wrestling history books. Time for me to show the world that I put my all into any task that is put in front of me.   

    It’s time for Steve Matthews to take advantage of this new beginning. 

    The sun hangs high, somewhere, above the blanket of clouds that provides a uniformity of slate to the sky. The streets are slick from the light rain that began overnight and still falls in fits and spurts. It is at this scene, we are outside of Brown’s Pet Shop. 

    Tucked between Frankie’s Bakery and a run down Shoe Repairers, Brown’s sits on the first floor of a red-brick multiplex of storefronts on a sleepy stretch that could be anywhere in America. This is however clearly small-town America. Lower-middle class suburbia with all its charms and warts. 

    Inside, scents of dog food, pet dander and an overly-strong mint air freshener hang in the stagnant air, like a collection of tree-shaped relics from a rear-view mirror. On the right-hand wall are shelves of aquarium and glass tanks, filled with various aquatic and reptilian life. A snake sleeps coiled in on itself; a chameleon rests on a plastic tree branch; fish swim passively. By the front window, an old orange tabby cat licks its fur and tries to absorb whatever light and warmth passes through the cloudscape. And behind the register a pink-haired teenage girl stares at her nails and tries not to die of boredom. 

    Clang. 

    The shopkeeper’s bell over the front entrance cuts through the hum of the heating system, breaking the near-silence and tranquillity as a man in a black leather jacket, jeans and black combat boots walks in. His eyes flicker briefly to the cashier, who is caught slightly slack-jawed, before passing over towards the tanks. He offers a slight nod before brushing the strands of hair off his forehead and proceeding towards the fish and reptiles. 

    Steve Matthews taps a small metal sign that reads “Do Not Tap” before peering in on the set of small lizards. 

    Matthews straightens giving a longing look back at the snake before continuing down the row. He almost walks past the next tank, before stopping and doubling back. He leans in close, almost pressing his nose to the glass. When he speaks, his breath laces brief fog on the exterior of the chameleon’s tank. 

    Matthews smirks and pushes back from the tank. 

    Matthews smirks. 

    Steve’s shoulders are heaving, his body slightly trembling and his fists clenched. 

    Clang.