Since Matt’s diagnosis Jeremy had become increasingly frustrated with the situation. Being his boyfriend aside, Matt was a mentor, a leader, the first to knock on the door in 2016 after the company went under, and the first to pick up its tattered banner and carry it all the way through 2023. He ate, slept, and breathed HWA, and it truly wouldn’t be where it was today without him. At this point in it’s epic return, a year into their return to broadcast television, Ring Master ahead of them along with the HWA Championship…it made his predicament unfair, unsettling, and in his eyes…entire unacceptable.
Not placing blame on their friends, but no one seemed to have the same convictions about it as he did. Not even Sean, who understandably had his own issues going on. He would wrestle again though, the fact that doctors had advised Matt of the opposite was something no one else seemed to fully understand. He was so handsome, so beautiful, and somehow his easy-going personality had persevered over this troubling time in his life.
Jeremy had been hell bent, and eyes focused on Maniac. He blamed him for this. Blamed him for his arrogance in demanding respect, for luring Matt down a path he’d never gone before, for pushing him to, and ultimately beyond his limits. Matt couldn’t fight any more, but he could fight for him, and he would. He would get the justice he thought Matt deserved. The only problem was…Matt didn’t necessarily want him to. They lay there speaking in low, delicate whispers to one another…the way lovers do.
(Matt): ……the risk is too high, and you know I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.
(Jeremy): And if it were me? What then, what would you do? You’d be ripping his throat out.
Matt smiles knowing Jeremy speaks the truth.
(Matt): That’s different.
(Jeremy): Babe, you know it isn’t.
He knew Jeremy was right. When you love someone you’d do anything to protect them, to defend them, or if need be…avenge them. If the roles were reversed he’d be at Maniac’s throat or worse, just as Jeremy said.
(Matt): Hey…look at me…this isn’t me doubting your abilities. This is me not wanting you to end up like this, like me, yeah?
There was a soft, pleading look on his eyes as he now played with Jeremy’s fresh cut hair. The prickly ends of the buzzed sides tickled his fingertips.
(Jeremy): I hate him. He drove you to this. He pushed and poked and prodded you every step of the way. He dredged up that Asylum Match and if the fuking executives at CBS hadn’t seen dollars signs, even you wouldn’t have convinced Butch and Wisdom to change their mind.
(Matt): It’s done, so it is! I get the short end of the straw, so I do. I’m making me peace wi’ it. I can’t tell you what to do babe, I can only ask, so I can. Jer, you’re the smartest person I know. So all I’ll ask is that you think this through. Promise me that, will ya?
The blue of his eyes was a mesmerizing sparkle. A cosmic constellation of wonder and humbling awe. The power they held over him. How they weakened him like some sort of blue kryptonite and he sighed.
(Jeremy): I promise.
They kissed and held one another in amazing silence until sleep found them. He’d never felt as close to Matt as he had that night, and thinking back on their conversation he almost regretted his promise. He didn’t want to think about it, he wanted to act, but Matt had infused him with a moment of pause. And so, he spent the last few days upholding his promise, he thought about it, wrestled with his thoughts, with his will, with Matt’s wishes.
And now…there were some admissions made, some realizations, and finally a resolution. Come Havoc, he knew what he wanted to do, what he had to do, what Blood, Sweat and Tears could bring…no one would stop him…and Maniac was not going to like it. He continued his run, a second-wind of sorts, or perhaps a third sweeping over him as he raced along and confident and committed, as the scene fades to black.
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