Do You Trust Me..?

Well...what a night that was. Another match in the bag, and I did exactly what I said I would - sent Sarah Keyes packing with a headache and yet another L to her name.

Was it a close match? Not really. I’m happy with how much offence I got in, with how I controlled the pace. And then, when the time was right, I pounced, the Facial Deconstructor bringing her down to the mat and laying her out for the 1, 2, 3.

And that...that is exactly how it will go next show, when I face the girls yet again, this time for the tag team gold. That’s right, folks, the day has finally come. Melissa Reeves gets her fair shot, her deserved shot, at the tag team gold. And what do they do? They switch my damn partner.

What?

Yeah, I know, that was my reaction too. Gone is Sarah Lacklan, the Blood Reavers torn apart and cast aside. In her place comes Chuck Matthews. Now don’t get me wrong, I got respect for Chuck’s in ring ability. I do. Plenty of it, actually. But we aren’t exactly friends, and it all feels like I’m back to square one.

Why is FSociety so obsessed with fucking me over?

From day one they’ve wanted to hold me back. A fatal 4-way was meant to be my debut. That became a tag. A tag which my team won, but where Sarah Lacklan picked up the pin. A match where it was claimed, afterward, that I needed her help to win. That I needed Dani Cabello’s help to win.

I didn’t.

After that I took on a one fall match, defeating that flop Terry McKenna in a pointless affair. From there I went on to teaming with Sarah fulltime. I didn’t want that. I never wanted to be in a tag team, but I was forced into the situation, so I made the best of it. Sarah and I bonded, not at first...but over time. And for that I’m grateful, she’s good people despite her outward attitude and I wish her well in her own title match at the upcoming show.

Teaming with Sarah was a success. We scored a win over Shelley Silver and Kenzie Rydell to pick up a number one contender position for the tag titles, with a title match due at the next supershow. And for a brief moment things seemed to be going right.

Then came management. Chris Night. Robb Hardy. Between them they added the defeated team of Kenzie and Shelley, plus the nobody team of The I-10 Connection into the match. Thanks a lot, guys, for FUCKING with my career because of your petty politics. I won’t miss either of you.

So around came Cold Dawn and Sarah and I went out, fought valiantly...only to see the I-10 guys take the loss and allow our oh so fantastic tag champs to retain. Champions who are silent with the fans. Champions who never advertise the titles, the division. Two girls who spearhead nothing, who are - at best - mediocre. And why? Because of the management toying with the match.

And that’s how my supershow went. A big waste of fucking time.

We recovered though, Sarah and I, picking up a win against Aiden Morrow and Ryan Callaghan. Sure, Ryan didn’t play his part, but we still took the win that night. And then, just last show, I defeated Sarah Keyes in a one-on-one match. Further proof that I am better than she is, than her team is.

In the aftermath I was finally, finally granted a proper opportunity to take the tag gold. Locke and Keyes versus Melissa Reeves and...Chuck Matthews. And so we’re right back at management wanting to fuck me around. I’m sick of it, I’m sick of them, I can’t wait to get this match done, win the titles and move on to wherever I go next.

Make no mistake though, I WILL win those titles. Just as I did at Honor, I will leave with gold over my shoulder. And just like I did with the Iron Maiden title, I won’t let anyone stand in my way. I won’t be messed around, screwed over, double crossed or backstabbed again. More than anything else, though, I will not be denied. I will not be stopped.

I will walk out of Revelation as one half of the new, and final, FSociety Tag Team Champions.


Through the familiar sting of sweat in her eyes, Melissa Reeves watched Chuck Matthews, her mind filled with both curiosity and anger. What was he doing? Not working out, that much was for sure. Two hours into their gym session and he was still yet to lift a single weight.

She reached up, releasing her grip on the bar of her machine, and moved her towel to her face, wiping the damp away. A few steps brought her to her drink bottle and she took a few gulps. All of this happened without Chuck moving a muscle. Melissa’s eyes narrowed as the annoyance overtook the curiosity.

“Chuck?” Nothing. Her eyes narrowed further. “CHUCK?!”

“Did you know your right shoulder spasms on your release?” Chuck leaned back slightly in his chair, his first sign of movement since they’d begun. “It twitched twelve times on your last set.”

Melissa’s narrowed eyes turned into a straight up frown. “Well at least you’re exercising your eyes.” She rolled her eyes. “...even if nothing else,” she added with a mutter.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Chuck spoke flatly, as if completely ignoring her remark.

A slight grunt escaped her mouth. “I had it reconstructed about...well, almost two years ago now. It got trapped in a ladder and then crushed when my opponent landed on said ladder...” She sighed - it was a memory she’d rather have left in the back of her mind.

Chuck finally moved. He approached her, cautiously at first. His movements were slow, and almost random… but there was something methodical about them. He didn’t say a word, but it was evident by his pensive expression that the gears in his head were turning. He cocked his head to the side, examining her shoulder. Again, exhibiting caution, he gingerly touched her arm, over the scar. He grunted, and backed away.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

Melissa hesitated to answer, unsure of what he was getting at. Eventually she spoke, though only softly. “No. I don’t even notice anymore.”

Chuck clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “Marvelous! Then we shouldn’t have anything to worry about.” He strolled back to his seat in the corner of the gym, stretching his legs out in front of him and picking up his notepad off his gym bag.

She watched him move away, a hand moving to where he had touched without her even thinking on it. “You mean beside the fact you’re yet to actually participate in this workout? You’d better be putting the effort in when we spar. I’d hate to injure my new tag partner in our first session.” Melissa again drank from the bottle, placing a hand on her hip.

Chuck slowly lowered his notepad and looked up at Melissa, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, do we have a problem here?” His tone wasn’t condescending. On the contrary, it seemed like a legitimate question. His voice was calm and collected. In fact, everything about him was calm, from his relaxed posture to his soft voice to his thoughtful expression, examining her as she sneered at him.

“Well…” Melissa paused for a second, trying to think of a diplomatic response, “Usually when you agree to a workout with someone you actually...you know, workout with them.”

Again, Chuck got to his feet, scratching his chin. He frowned for a moment, and looked at the ground, then turned his attention to Melissa. “You know… I’ve been doing this for almost ten years, this whole… wrestling… thing. Contrary to what some people might tell you, I DO know what I’m doing. My system hasn’t exactly failed me before.”

Hearing his comment, Melissa cocked her head to the side, the annoyance back in the forefront of her mind. “No?” She shrugged. “Must have been a different Chuck Matthews who I saw Kenzie Rydell pinning, then.” After an awkward moment of silence, she decided to fill the void by going on. “Point is, this was meant to be a workout and you’re not working out.”

Chuck stood for what seemed like an age, staring at Melissa. His expression was blank. It was always blank, and yet… there was this glint in his eyes, that stupid smug look as if he knew something that nobody else knew. It was annoying. HE was annoying.

“I’m sorry. It’s not… really my way of doing things. I work best alone.” He shoved his notepad into his gym bag and retrieved his gloves instead. He approached Melissa, slipping the gloves onto his hands and holding them out. “Go on. Hit me.”

Despite the obviousness of the instruction, Melissa froze, questioning whether the situation was as it seemed. She considered asking if he was sure, but instead took a half step back and swung down toward the glove. Chuck did nothing to prevent the blow, taking her punch full to the palm of his hand. He shook his arm a bit, loosening his shoulder. “Not bad.” He held his hands out again. “Again.”

More sure of what Chuck was doing, Melissa swung again, this time putting her weight behind the strike, aiming to make him really feel her fist. Chuck grunted, again shaking out his arm. He nodded slowly, his eyes still locked on Melissa’s form. “You’re holding back.” He readied his hands again. “Don’t.”

Melissa pressed her tongue into her cheek and let out a sigh, before shrugging. “Okay, you asked for it.” She again punched, this time faking a left and then hammering Chuck with her right, her feet taking her a step forward as she completed the punch.

Chuck adjusted his stance at the last moment, catching the punch to his opposite hand. He stumbled back a step, but managed to keep his balance. “There you go!” He chuckled to himself, sliding the glove off his hand and rotating his wrist. His palm was already turning slightly pink from the sharp blow. He tossed the glove aside, sliding the opposite off his hand as well. He shook himself out, rotating his shoulders, his neck, his wrists, loosening his joints. “Alright…. Now try again.” This time he didn’t raise his hands. He stood, arms at his side, looking her full in the face. “Go on.”

The years of experience at Melissa’s disposal screamed at her that this was a trap. However, she felt it worthwhile to see Chuck actually have some input, so took the swing, unsure of quite what to expect, her mind already running through a thousand possible scenarios. Chuck kept his eyes locked on her at all times, and at the last possible moment before impact, he….. Did nothing. Chuck took the blow full to the face and stumbled a few steps before falling flat on his back with a groan.

Confused as all hell by the turn of events, Melissa looked down, shaking her fist from the blow. “Are...are you okay?”

Chuck slowly got to his feet. He moved his hand to his jaw, sliding it back and forth. “Come on, I do this for a living. You think one hit is gonna take me out?” He chuckled, but it didn’t stop him from opening and closing his mouth several times, checking for any sort of injury. He hopped from one foot to the other, again loosening himself up, keeping his joints from locking. He stood still once more, returning his hands to his sides. “Alright… alright, last time, I promise. Hit me.”

“Okay, but don’t let Betsy get mad if I ruin your face…” Once again, Melissa swung - no hesitation in the strike, though she did it fully knowing a punch could potentially do very real damage to her new partner. Chuck stood still once more, but before the blow could land, he stepped to the side. In a smooth motion, he caught her by the wrist and slapped it away, letting her momentum turn her just enough for Chuck to deliver his own hit, straight to the scar on her right shoulder.

As the pain - and more than that, the reminder that the pain brought - coursed through Melissa, the anger she often worked so hard to hide reared its ugly head. She span, striking Chuck in the midriff with the point of her left elbow, before instinctively moving to hold at her right shoulder. She took a few steps away, giving a primal yell. Melissa turned back to Chuck, thoughts filled with how many ways she could hurt him for what he did, but her anger quickly cleared again as her reason returned, and she stopped, instead breathing in deeply. Chuck groaned loudly, straightening up and stretching out his midsection, his hand holding where Melissa’s elbow had driven itself. He laughed to himself, a pained laugh, amused, the laugh of a man not often caught by surprise. “Good shot! Very good shot.” He exhaled and stretched out once more. “Are you alright, Miss Reeves?”

Melissa rolled her shoulder, holding where he had impacted. She looked up, moving her hand away from the area so as to not show Chuck he had definitely hurt her. The frown on her face lessened, though the smile didn’t return. “I’m fine. Are you?”

Chuck shrugged slightly. “I mean, I might have a bruise in the morning, but I’ve had worse. Let me ask you: Why did you try another punch? You threw four in a row, why try a fifth?”

“I enjoyed hitting you.” She chuckled. “Okay, no, I wanted to see what you were going to do...”

“You expected it. I hold my hands up, you see that as a target, you hit the hands. I put my hands down, you go for the face. I hit you, you hit the first thing you can find… do you see where I’m going with this?”

Melissa brushed the hair from her face and wiped sweat from her brow. She tilted her head. “Go on…”

“You’ve got a very distinctive style, Melissa. You run on instinct.” Chuck paused for a moment and, realizing how that may have sounded, corrected himself. “That’s not a bad thing. You can’t teach instinct. It gives you adrenaline… it gives you power. But it comes at a cost. The way you fight is… compulsive. And, once you’ve learned to read it, it becomes predictable.” Chuck cradled his ribs again. “Here’s the thing: We’ve got a shot at the titles. We need to be at the top of our game, and I know for you, that means being in the best shape you can be. For me, it means understanding how this team of ours is going to operate.” A short silence fell between them, so Chuck continued. “These two have been together for ages. They’ve traveled together, they’ve fought together, they’ve become champions together. You and me? I’ve never been in the ring with you. We’ve never worked together. We don’t even talk all that much. If we’re going to stand a hope in hell of winning this thing, we need to both be at the top of our game. For you, that’s physically. For me? You know what they call me.”

Melissa rolled her wrists and approached Chuck, standing within arm’s reach. She held her hand out and tapped the side of his forehead. “Yeah, I know what they call you. But for all of your smarts, you lack heart...you lose interest, you stop caring.” She then tapped his heart. “You think I haven’t seen you questioning your future in this industry? So, you call me predictable, but that was a single exercise. The question here isn’t about how ‘predictable’ I am, but how much your heart is in this. Because for all of my passion, my training, my experience, it won’t mean a whole lot if my partner isn’t going to give his 100% to the match.” Before Chuck could reply, she interrupted to continue. “And I mean that with no offence. But if we’re going to be honest then let’s be honest.”

Chuck nodded slowly. “You don’t trust I’ll be there to get your back. Understandable. I haven’t exactly given you a reason.” He was silent for a moment, frowning slightly. “I’ll tell you the same thing I’d tell anyone else that got paired up with me: You want to win this thing? Let’s go out and win this thing. What I want, what I care about, what my future in this business holds… that’s irrelevant. If YOU want to win this thing, then let’s do it. Just because I’ve stopped caring for this industry doesn’t mean I expect the world to do the same… and yeah, I can put aside my own ego for one night if it means helping you get the belts you want.” He stared at her a moment, as though trying to read her thoughts. “So, my question to you… how badly do you want to win?”

“Everything I did...teaming with Sarah, the hours put into the team, that was taken from me when they took her from me. The shot we earned was taken from me when they added Kenzie and Shelley and the I-10 guys in. Ever since I arrived in FSociety, this has been my goal.” She sighed. “So how badly do I want this? I don’t want it. I need it. Because if I fail now, it was all for nothing.”

“We are at a disadvantage here. We don’t have the same experience as a team. You don’t know me, I don’t really know you. If we’re being honest… that was my goal when I agreed to come here today. You’re right, I didn’t do much in regards to working out, but I can work out on my own time. What I CAN’T do on my own time is see what my tag partner can do.  I came here so I could see how you work. And in the few hours we’ve been here, what have I learned? You’ve got a bad shoulder. I learned how you react to anger. I learned how you naturally fight. I learned that, in many ways, you fight in a near opposite style to me. It’s based on adrenaline. Power. Physicality. Mine is slow. It’s intentional. It’s thought out, planned. I think that’s going to work for us. We NEED it to work for us. If we’re going to overcome the experience advantage, we’re going to need to learn how to use our individual strengths to complement each other. You have my word, when push comes to shove, I will do everything in my power to win this match. We will leave Vegas with the titles. But I need you to trust me.” Chuck hesitated for a moment, but extended his hand. “Can you trust me?”

Melissa looked down at the hand. She thought for a moment, the pain in her shoulder still playing on her mind. “You’re right, we are different. I’m not stupid, but you’re smarter. You’re no slouch, but I’m more aggressive. Together, maybe...just maybe we will indeed complement each other. And perhaps, with a little luck, we can make this work.” With that said, she decided to extend her hand and take his, shaking it. “So yes...I trust you.”