The match against Deas and Maniac when he teamed with Jeremy was the furthest thing from his mind though. He couldn’t help but constantly think about Sean and Michelle. He had messaged him several times, as well as Hans after what happened with Vanessa and Erica after her match with Alexis Rose. One man who he hadn’t heard from though was Jeremy. As he recounted in his head Erica’s untimely relegation about Jeremy, he involuntarily shook his head. He looked at his phone for what felt the thousandth time. His message had been sent but it didn’t look as if Jeremy had even read it. He then recounted Sam Elliott’s ominous monologue on the Asylum Match as HWA had started to press the hype button his upcoming PPV match with Maniac. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of excitement compounded with nervousness.
Just as he’s been about to put his phone away, a notification pings and he hurriedly brings it back up. But it wasn’t Jeremy, it was Butch letting the talent know of the upcoming Havoc card for July 31st along with its location. Matt raises a curious an eyebrow when he sees his name across the page from William Draconis.
“I suppose I better get this out the road, so I should,” Matt says to himself. He lets a little gush of air puff out from his mouth as he sets up the HWA app.
“Well, that was a clusterf*ck-and-a-half in Wichita, so it was! I’m not going to even address the heinous actions of Steven Angel because he’s not worth anyone’s words and if anyone should be addressing him, it’s my boy, Sean. As for what Erica revealed at the end of the show, y’know, upon reflection, I couldn’t care less about the match, some things are bigger than what goes on in that ring, so they are, and Erica, cailín, what you did, outing Jeremy like that? In my eyes, that’s reprehensible. Whatever orientation Jeremy is, if he wants the world to know, if he only wants certain people to know, that was his[/] choice to make! And you took that out of his hands and for why? Because you’ve suddenly got this chip on your shoulder? That’s low, even for you, so it is. But then again, considering your company these days, should I even be surprised anymore?”
Matt shakes his head in disgust.
“You’re pathetic, Erica, so you are, trying to cast shade on my work ethic as well and trying to draw my own sexual preferences into the matter like that is anyone’s business. If I or anyone else is gay, bi, straight, trans, whatever, that should not matter to anyone, least of all you! And then there you are, hiking your fingers down your chuff in front of Coach Hans? A happily married man! Again for what? Because he loves his wife who exercised her own right to give her opinion? You’re beyond any semblance of redemption from this, Erica. I’m an easygoing lad, so I am, but in years to come, if you ever decide you’ve got anything resembling regret for what you’ve done, this is one lad who won’t be answering your call.”
Matt takes a moment before he continues.
“Maniac, you’re right, I am looking forward to Havoc. Not only does it mean we’ll be one show closer to Art of War where you and I will finally put an end to this rivalry, but I also get to see Coach Hans shut your mouth after weeks of your pathetic baiting. Furthermore, I get to jump straight back into the ring. Which brings me to my next opponent, William Draconis.”
Matt takes a short breath and then keeps going.
“The Texas Dragon, the head of your family, the original Son of Anarchy.”
Matt smirks.
“I have to say big fella, you’ve certainly impressed us all since HWA returned. What are ya now? Four and oh?”
Matt purses his lips and raises his eyebrows in an expression showcasing his acknowledgement of Draconis’ accomplishments.
“I mean, you did what I couldn’t do and beat Maniac and that match with Legion there back in Wichita?”
Matt makes the chef’s kiss gesture.
“And I know you’ll want to keep your momentum going, so you will fella. But it stops at Havoc, in Arkansas. I know you’re big and you’re strong. Hell, if I stood next to you in the line at catering, most people wouldn’t even notice me. But that’s the way I like it lad, the odds stacked against me, I mean look at what I’m getting myself in for at Art of War, entering the most barbaric environment in professional wrestling against the psychopath who concocted it. But don’t worry, big man, I’m not overlooking you and focusing on the pay-per-view. See, Maniac still likes to ramble on like I’m some young, inexperienced rookie, whereas that couldn’t be further from the truth. Everyone conveniently forgets that before I joined HWA when I was still only 20 years old, I’d been competing professionally since I was 16. I’ve been wrestling over 10 years. But I know you won’t make that mistake, William, will ya, fella? You’ve got this newly-discovered sense of honor, you’ve brought your kids and nephew into the fold, hoping to follow in your footsteps and I respect that, so I do. But Matt Miller isn’t gonna be the five-and-oh notch on the General Lee’s dashboard, William. See, I know you’ve had quite the selection of bangers since you returned but trust me when I say not one of your opponents has presented you with the challenge I’m bringing to our match, big man! I’m sure I’ll be hearing from ya soon, so I will! Let’s make some magic in Little Rock!”
Matt ends the feed and puts his phone back into normal mode, scanning through his notifications and sees Jeremy is typing in the message thread they have. The three dots keep flashing indicating Jeremy was typing and this continues for about thirty seconds until it stops and then there’s nothing. Matt groans in frustration and puts his phone away.
“Come on Jer, answer me, lad!”
The scene fades to black.
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