What's the point of it all?

Bull/Graves Residence
Las Vegas, NV
Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Aurora didn’t even want to bother unpacking after dragging her luggage into the bedroom. After that long flight home from Tokyo, the only thing she wanted to do was flop down into the comforter of her own bed. But this was to be no ordinary bed flop – this time, as her body stretched and writhed against the familiar cotton bedding, her hands clutched tightly to her half of the Redemption Tag Team Championship belts. The look on her face was one of absolute bliss.

Damon had followed her into the room, dropping his bags on the floor by the door, his own championship belt draped over his shoulder. Sitting down beside her, he began to twirl her hair around his fingers as he smiled.

Damon: Well, looks like we’ve done it again, eh Harley?

Aurora: We sure did! Did you see the look on Jew Blazer’s face when he caught sight of our little surprise? “That’s not my cake!”

Damon: That was nothing considering the look on both of their faces after we “fed” them said cake.

Aurora: Hey, we did exactly what we said we were going to do, so it’s all good. At least they still got to have some cake...

Damon: Even if Ronnie North is probably STILL trying to get icing out of his chest hair.

Aurora cringed at the mental image of North’s excessive body hair, matted with icing and cake crumbs. Cringed to the point where she actually went pale.

Damon: Do I need to clear the way so that you can make a beeline for the toilet?

Aurora: No, Puddin’. I’ll be fine. But it’s still not the sort of mental image I want....

Damon: Well then, in that case...

Damon positioned his body over Aurora’s, gently holding her wrists over her head as he gazed down at her suggestively.

Damon: Let me put an even better image into your mind....

As Aurora giggled, Damon began to lean in for a kiss. But before their lips could meet, Damon’s cell phone went off. Damon sighed deeply, his head drooping as Aurora bit her bottom lip.

Damon: I guess I’d better get that....

Aurora slipped out of Damon’s grasp, wrapping her legs around his waist and rolling him over so that she had him pinned on the bed. Pinning his shoulders down, she stared into his eyes, shaking her head.

Aurora: Oh, no you don’t, Mr. Graves. I told you what happens when you rev up this Harley. Besides, if it’s important enough, they can just leave a damn voicemail.

Damon: I can see I won’t be able to persuade you otherwise... not that I would want to, anyway.

Aurora giggled seductively at her husband, arching her eyebrow.

Aurora: As if I couldn’t tell....

Damon: You little minx...

Damon let out a playful growl as he raised his head, burying his face into Aurora’s neck. Her skin broke out into goosebumps as she squealed, and Damon used her distraction to roll her over....

It was a move that would send them both spilling over the foot of the bed and onto the floor.

Aurora: HAH! Pinned ya again!

Damon’s cell phone kept ringing, but the amorous couple paid it no mind, enjoying each other’s company long after the phone went silent...



Damon walked up to the dresser, the skin of his bare chest glistening with a dewy layer of sweat. With a smile still plastered on his face, he picked up his cell phone. As he deactivated the lock screen, he noticed the voicemail icon at the top of the screen, right beside the missed call icon. As he scrutinized what was on the screen, Aurora slipped in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing as tightly as she could.

Damon: Hm... 310 area code...

Aurora: You think it might be your grandfather?

Damon: It’s a possibility. Anyway, let’s find out.

Damon opened up the voicemail menu, holding the phone up to his ear to listen to the message as Aurora looked on in blind curiosity. Within seconds, the smile quickly faded from Damon’s face as he set the phone down, replaced by a vacant, emotionless stare. He broke away from his wife’s embrace, sitting down on the foot of the bed, resting his arms on his thighs. The phone slipped from his hand, clattering against the hardwood floor.

Aurora: Damon...?

She narrowed her eyes, curiosity and concern seemingly having a tug of war on her face, with concern having the slight advantage. She had only ever seen that look on his face once before – when the tattoo shop in Long Beach had burned down.

Aurora: Puddin’... you’re starting to scare me. What’s going on?

He continued to stare off into space, even as he stood up and walked into the bathroom. Aurora raised a hand in his direction, as if to call after him, but before she could say anything, he shut the door behind him. Aurora sighed, a sudden sense of hopelessness washing over her. Shaking her head, she walked over to the foot of the bed, bending down to pick up Damon’s cell phone. She could hear the automated menu for his voicemail repeating itself over and over again, but this was soon drowned out by the sound of an anguished howl...

Damon’s Voice: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Aurora replayed the last message, if nothing else, to find out what it was that had him so upset. As she held the phone up to her ear, a male voice began to speak, and he didn’t sound like he was in a good mood.

Voice on Phone: Hey, Damon... this is your cousin Robert. I...

She heard Robert sigh over the phone.

Robert: I really wish I wasn’t making this call, but I thought you should know... Uncle Teddy – no, your grandfather – passed away in his sleep last night. Um, I guess give me a call as soon as you get this message.

She immediately closed out the voicemail app, staring at the bathroom door. After that window-rattling scream, the bathroom was eerily silent. For what seemed like an eternity, she continued her watch on the door, waiting for even the slightest hint of movement from the other side. Finally, the doorknob turned, and her husband emerged, hair hanging in front of his face as he fixed his eyes on the floor.

Aurora: Damon, I heard the voicemail... I’m so sorry...

She looked into his eyes. Those once radiant, absinthe-green eyes were now a dull olive, surrounded by a tortured shade of red. Indeed, his whole face bore a similar hue. He stood there, not saying a word before his head once again found a home in the crook of her neck, his voice choked by emotion and muffled by her hair. Aurora could do nothing but hold him, a single sympathetic tear rolling down her cheek as she clenched her eyes shut.

Damon: He was the closest thing I had to a father... the only one I could really talk to after Mom died – and now he’s gone. I didn’t even get a chance to see him one last time.

Aurora: We never know when our time is up, Damon. All we can do is just live our lives...

Damon: I have to get to Inglewood... meet with the family about funeral arrangements. Not the sort of family reunion I was hoping for....

Aurora: I’m going with you. I’m NOT letting you go through this alone. Don’t forget that it’s my family, too.

Damon: You have no idea how much that means to me, Harley....

Aurora: Come on... let’s take a moment to collect ourselves, then I’ll call Alicia and let her know what’s going on. You get in touch with the family; tell them we’ll be there soon.



Inglewood Plaza Inn
Inglewood, CA
Thursday morning, March 16, 2017

Aurora sat with her back against a dark wooden headboard, the soft, yellow glow of the bedside lamp shining down on her arm. She stared blankly at the TV mounted on the other side of the room, a somewhat vacant look in her eyes as she flipped through the channels before giving up and tossing the remote to the side.

Aurora: You know, these last few weeks since Cold Dawn have given me a lot of time to reflect on things. I’ve had the chance to enjoy a little leisure time with one of the most important people in my life, and it’s made me realize that it doesn’t make a bit of difference what happened at the end of Cold Dawn. I went into that ring, and I did what I do every time I step through those ropes. And on that night, that ONE night, I came up just a little short.

And I’m perfectly fine with that. I have other things in life to look forward to besides piss and moan about the FSociety Championship, and how I came THIS FUCKING CLOSE to grabbing that brass ring, only to have it slip through my fingers like a greased pig.

There was a hint of disappointment mixed with frustration in her voice as she spoke. Despite this, her eyes flashed with a glimmer of pride, even if only for a moment.

Aurora: Hell, all I have to do is just compare where I am now to where I was a year ago, and I can honestly say that if my life were to end today, then I’d be going out with the biggest shit-eating grin on my face you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on.

But then again, as much as I’m sure my haters will be disappointed, I don’t plan on dropping dead anytime soon.

She smirked, shaking her head as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She pushed off, walking toward the room’s single window, and the sheer white curtain that fluttered in the draft of the air conditioner protruding from the wall beneath the window sill. She ran her fingers along one of the folds of sheer fabric, feeling its coarse fibers as they moved against her skin.

Aurora: Speaking of haters, despite the fact that I’m just coming off of two of the biggest fights of my career to date, my next match involves two people that – shock of shocks – I don’t actually hate. I mean, while one of them I’ve certainly exchanged a few – okay, SEVERAL – cross words with, the other one is a name I’ve only heard in whispers.

Forgive me for not spilling out of my bra with enthusiasm.

She flashed a sarcastic grin, pulling out a chair from underneath a small round table, where a few take-out menus were spread out on the surface in a fan shape. She picked up one such menu, advertising a pizza joint that was just a few steps away from the hotel. After a quick scan, she set it aside.

Aurora: On the other hand, maybe the naysayers are right about me... maybe I’ll never be more than just another tag team wrestler. I might as well stick with what works for me, right? I mean, that’s what’s gotten me this far in my career, especially now that I’ve won my fourth tag team championship in just under 10 months.

Or maybe, I’ll just keep doing what I’ve been doing for the last 23 years that I’ve been breathing this planet’s rank-ass air, and not give a damn about what people expect of me. Yeah, I think that’s what I’m going to do.

Ever since Damon and I started as a tag team, people have been trying to pick at us, to drive that wedge between the two of us, by saying that he’s done nothing but hold me back. And that he’d be nothing if he didn’t have me in his corner. Well, I’d like to think that what he did at Cold Dawn shut up a few of the critics, but if I’ve learned anything, people are always going to talk shit to make themselves feel better about their own existences.

So, now that my match against Tyson Gregory is over and done with, the new head honchos have decided to stick me in a match that really does nothing for me. No offense to my opponents, but what do any of us stand to gain from this match? Both Kenzie and myself are coming off of hard-fought matches – not to mention a wicked case of jetlag – while the other guy is dusting off his boots after who knows how long?

She leaned back, propping her feet up on the table as she folded her hands, resting her elbows on the chair’s armrests.

Aurora: Seriously... what’s it all for? Just a bunch of us looking to move back up the ladder, knowing that only one of us will be able to pull ourselves up to the next rung.

Fine.

She got up, walking back to the window. This time, she pulled back the curtain, looking out toward the railing, where Damon stood with his phone in his hand. It was clear that he was deep in conversation with whomever was on the other end, but she had no idea what was being said.

Aurora: But just know that at this point, I give absolutely zero fucks about who I have to take out. Friend, foe, or indifferent, in the end, if you’re standing in front of me, you’re just another target for me to take aim at. Nothing personal... because once the bell rings, none of it will matter anymore, anyway. After all, no matter who we are and what we do, all of our stories will end the same way.

The door to the hotel room slowly swung open, and Damon stepped into the room as he tucked his phone into his pocket. His normally bright, expressive eyes bore the same mournful haze they had since the night before. He looked at Aurora with those same eyes and nodded his head.

Damon: Let’s go... they’re meeting at Grandpa’s place.

Aurora nodded in response, following her husband out of the hotel room door.



Adams Residence
Inglewood, CA
Thursday, March 16, 2017

The atmosphere was a somber one as Aurora sat silently in the living room of Damon’s late grandfather’s house. She scanned the room, filled with teary-eyed relatives that up until now, she had never met before. A few feet away, Damon stood beside a picture of his grandfather clad in his Navy dress blues. Half out of seeking to comfort her husband, half out of a need of some familiarity, Aurora walked up to him, wrapping her arms around him as she rested her head on his chest. He kissed the top of her head, then looked around, a half-hearted smirk on his face.

Damon: Well, I guess I should start making some introductions.

Aurora: I just wish I was meeting them under better circumstances.

Damon: Believe me, Harley; I would, too. I guess some things just can’t be helped. At least there aren’t too many people here; just the ones that could make it on short notice.

An older woman approached them, dressed in a simple black suit, her grey hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. She peered at the tattooed couple behind a pair of thick-rimmed bifocals, her thin, pink lips curling into an attempt at a welcoming smile.

Lady: Good of you to come, Damon. You’ve been missed around here.

Damon: It has been a while, Aunt Laura. Anyway, I’d like you to meet my wife, Aurora. Aurora, this is my aunt, Laura; my grandfather’s youngest sister.

Aurora nervously extended her hand toward the older woman, trying to manage a smile.

Aurora: I wish we were meeting under different terms, but it’s nice to meet you, in any event.

Laura: Likewise. I’m glad to see Damon finally settling down with such a lovely young lady that’s just as – ahem – colorful as he is.

Aurora let out an awkward laugh as she glanced at her husband. Damon merely smirked as he rubbed the back of his head.

Damon: She actually has more ink than I do now...

Aurora: That’s because he’s the one that put it there.

Laura: It’s nice to hear even a little bit of laughter around here at such a sad time. Teddy loved to laugh, and for him to see all of us sitting and moping around, well...

Damon: He’d be the first to tell us to quit acting like a bunch of wet blankets.

Laura: That’s exactly what he’d say! Oh, Damon... Teddy was always so proud of you. The last time I came out to visit, he would show me all of your wrestling videos, that big old smile of his plastered on his face...

Damon started to blush, something even Aurora found to be a rare occurrence.

Laura: Oh, that reminds me... Damon, he told me that if anything should ever happen to him, to give this to you...

Laura reached into her purse, pulling out a long, white envelope, which she then handed to Damon. On the front of the envelope were the words “For my Grandson”. Aurora looked on as he broke the seal, pulling out a folded letter. As he opened the letter, Aurora heard a light thud, prompting her to look down at her husband’s feet.

Aurora: Hold on... something just fell out...

She bent down, picking up a small brass key. Getting back up, she turned it over in her hand, staring in curiosity.

Aurora: I wonder what this key goes to....

Damon scanned the letter, his eyes darting back and forth as he poured over the words on the pages. Aurora watched as his eyebrow arched, as it always did when he came upon some interesting information. He finished reading the letter, carefully folding the pages containing his grandfather’s final words to him. Aurora heard Damon sniffle just a little as he slipped the paper back into the envelope. She tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away.

Damon: Sorry, Harley... I just... I need a minute.

Damon hurried out of the room, leaving Aurora and Laura standing there, both women with worried looks on their faces.

Aurora: I should go after him....

Laura: No... let him be for a bit, dear. He just needs to let it all sink in. Besides, it’ll give us some time to get to know each other. After all, we’re family now. Come and sit down, and you can tell me all about what you and Damon have been up to...

Laura gestured toward an old, Victorian-style sofa – dark brown velvet with an even darker wood trim. With a sigh, she followed her. After all, if the whole family was going to discuss funeral arrangements, the least she could do is take the time to learn more about the family she had married into, and the man whose memory they had come to honor.



Inglewood Park Cemetery
Inglewood, CA
Thursday, March 16, 2017

Aurora sat beneath the shade of a massive tree at the side of a narrow road, looking off into the distance as Damon walked the surrounding area, conversing with a funeral director. She shook her head, letting out a sigh of mild frustration as she forced herself up from the ground.

Aurora: I shouldn’t be here...

I shouldn’t be in the next state, helping to plan a funeral for a man I never met, but right now, my husband needs me to be here for him. You see, not that far from where I’m standing lies the resting place of my mother-in-law, and soon, we’ll be burying her father nearby as well. Still, if you think I’m going to let anything – even a death in the family – throw me off of my game at Anarchy, you’re mistaken. But now, we come to the part where I take a moment to throw a few choice words at the two other people I’ll be sharing the ring with once I do get back to Vegas.

Aurora stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans, walking alongside the curb to avoid stepping on the graves of the cemetery’s – for lack of a better term – residents. She kept shooting periodic glances over in Damon’s direction, watching as he kept pointing toward the plot of earth that would serve as his grandfather’s final resting place. Further up the road, a single bench sat beside an empty trash can, a few wilted rose petals lying at the trash can’s base.

Aurora: Kenzie, to say that there’s a fuckton of history between the two of us would be a gross understatement. After all, we were once sisters in arms. That is, until you decided that the ideals of the Angelz of Destruction just didn’t line up with yours. And yeah, I could bring up some of the other shit that went down – things I’m sure you’ve had to live with for the last few months – but what would be the point of bringing them up all over again? Why bother trying to dredge up something that happened nearly a year ago?

I no longer hold any ill will toward you, Kenzie. I’ve already given you enough shit for what went down in NGW, so as long as you’re willing to leave it in the past, so will I. However, I can’t overlook the fact that you’re in this match, so I have to take all of that history – the good and the bad – and set it to the side. This Sunday, we go to war one more time, and I think you know what to expect out of me once I step through those ropes, so I don’t see the point of repeating myself. Will this be the last time you and I cross paths in the ring? Who can say? But know that win or lose, the respect will always be there.

And now, this brings me to the dark horse in this match, Chuck Matthews, the “Smartest Man in Wrestling.” That’s quite the moniker you’ve given yourself, Chuckles.

She shook her head, a half-hearted chuckle leaving her lips as she pulled her knee up onto the bench. She rested her hand on her thigh, pausing for a moment to glance up to the sky as a crow flew overhead.

Aurora: Sure, you’ve been around for a while, and I’m fairly certain that a lot of people are going to give me hell for not even having the slightest clue as to who you are, but when the only thing I can dig up on you is that you were the final Inferno Wrestling Las Vegas Champion, what did you expect? I don’t have time to go spelunking through the depths of Inferno’s history, so go ahead and rip me apart for my ignorance. I really don’t give a shit.

You may have been a big name not that long ago, but the way I see it, you’re just another body in the ring to me. Just another face for me to want to kick around, until I’ve decided I’m finished knocking the shit out of you. Call me overconfident, call me whatever the hell you want, but in the end, the only thing that matters is whose shoulders are pinned to the mat for the count of three. My job in this match is to make sure I’m on the right side of that three count, and if I end up having to go through you, then so be it.

From where she sat, Aurora saw Damon make his way toward the road, navigating through the many rows of graves, with the funeral director close behind. She got back up from her seat, walking toward the black Buick LaCrosse they had rented. By the time she had made it halfway between the bench and the car, Damon had already reached it, and was already sitting in the driver’s seat.

Aurora: Go ahead... do what everyone else in FSociety save for a few I can count on one fucking hand does and take a huge steaming shit on me. It’s all good. You know what the old saying is... Haters make the best motivators, so all you’d be doing is giving me more reason to prove you wrong.

She opened the passenger door, slipping into the seat. As she shut the door, she stuck her arm out of the open window, sticking her hand up as if she was about to wave, but instead, her fingers spread out like the feathers of a cockatoo’s crest.

Aurora: Later, bitches!

As she pulled her hand back inside, Damon pulled the car away from the curb, driving up the road toward the main building.