09.08.16, vegasConfetti. Music. Champagne. A celebration. That's what was supposed to be happening right now. They were supposed to be happy, excited, celebrating. Three days ago, Tommy locked O.E. Ayano into an octopus stretch and a few seconds later Rex speared the both of them right out of their boots. It was a dangerous maneuver dubbed the 10-56, reserved for the most important of moments. Moments like that one, because three seconds later the Evans brothers were crowned the Sin City Wrestling Tag Team Champions.
They'd been dreaming about it for years. Two brothers, climbing through the ranks to capture a top-tier tag team title together. They finally did it, and were supposed to be back in Atlanta. Back with Alexis and Ashlyn, celebrating their sweetest victory. Rex had become a Triple Crown Champion at the same time. They had so much to be thankful for, so much to celebrate. Instead they were stuck in a dusty old apartment that hadn't seen use in months, experiencing agony.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. He's stubborn, you know that," a breeze rolled through the open balcony door, letting in the cool night air. Outside, leaning over the railing as he took a drag from his cigarette, was Tommy Evans. Physically, he seemed fine, with the exception of a few scratches and bruises from the war they went through. The agony was present in his eyes, though, as he held the phone up to his ear, listening and muttering back. "He doesn't want her to know, I guess. He just keeps saying it will pass, as if he's been here before, which I just can't imagine. It's intense, Ash. I-I... I just don't know what to do for him.
"Is she asking questions?" He asked after a brief pause, taking another drag. Before he was able to get an answer, there was a sound from behind him, somewhere inside the loft. An agonized scream accompanied by the sound of a crash. "Fuck!"
The younger Evans brother didn't even take time to say goodbye, almost tossing his cell phone over the balcony with the rest of his cigarette as he turned on a dime. Rushing back into the apartment and past the first couple of rooms he burst through the cracked open door at the back of the hallway, where the older brother had seemingly just fallen face-first onto the floor near the far wall, knocking all manner of items to the floor around him. His face had already become flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as his arms shook beneath his weight, trying and failing to push himself back upright.
"Rex! Are you o-" Tommy gasped as he flew into the room, dropping to a knee and attempting to help his older brother flip over to a seated position against the wall. But Rex batted him away, falling back down before Tommy eventually gave him no choice, grabbing him and helping him to a more comfortable position. "Rex, what the fuck? Just stop it.
Stop this."
"Stop? Stop?" He scoffed in response, shaking his head and looking away in a failed attempt to hide the tears that had welled up in his eyes. "I can't. I can't
stop, not now. We just won the tag team championships, Tommy. And... and in just a few weeks? It's finally happening. After all these years, it's finally going to happen."
A tear streamed down the older brother's cheek as Tommy fell to a seated position next to him, rubbing Rex's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. The sat there in silence for a moment, Rex staring at the wall, Tommy staring at him, before the latter took a deep breath.
"If you don't stop you're going to kill yourself," he didn't raise his voice but the words were dripping with conviction and authority. Rex's red face grew pale and stoic as lifted a hand to wipe away the tears, staring intently at that same point on the wall, far away from Tommy's face, as he subtly shook his head while Tommy continued. "I know, man. I know.
"I know how much this means to you. Rex Evans versus Doug E. Fresh. Almost four years in the making. But- but look at yourself. Just take
one look at yourself. You can't walk. You can barely even stand up on your own. You're in constant pain. It's not fucking worth it. It's-" Tommy stumbled through the words, taking a deep breath as he considered his next words. "You're a father now, Rex. The only thing worse than becoming our dad would be letting that little boy grow up
without one. You need to rest, have the doctors take a look at you for once in your damn life. Doug can wait a few weeks."
A FEW YEARS LATER...
01.18.19, atlanta"I don't know if I can wait these last few days," Rex managed to say through his mouthguard as a bead of sweat dripped from his eyebrow. His gloved hands were guarding his face, a small smirk on his expression as he beckoned his little brother in.
"This thing has been building up for six years, Rex. I don't think one more week will kill you," Tommy panted, sweat dripping from practically every point on his head. With a quick breath the younger brother stepped left, but then juked to the right on his back foot, spinning as he leaped into the air and twisted around with a tornado kick to the left side of Rex's face.
Rex snatched Tommy's foot right out of the air and pulled him in by the leg before lunging forward with a massive, awkward powerbomb. A muffled scream escaped Tommy's lungs as Rex bounced off and hooked the leg. Outside the ring, one of their trainees hit the apron and counted to three. Rex rolled onto his back next to Tommy with a bit of a laugh, pulling his mouth guard out as they both laid there, staring up at the ceiling while trying to catch their breath. "I'm pretty sure the Professor won't be throwing any tornado kicks at me, kid."
"Hey. Hey. Don't call me kid," Tommy said through panted breaths with an angry yet sarcastic tone, wincing and groaning as he pushed himself first to a seated position and eventually all the way up to his feet. "After next year, I won't even be a young gun anymore, alright?"
"Alright, alright. You're right, I'm sorry," Rex laughed, rolling over and pushing himself back to his feet with relative ease. "You want to go again?"
"Uh," Tommy quickly spun around, casting a disturbed look in Rex's direction. "Pardon my french, but
fuck no," they both started laughing as Tommy carefully climbed up to sit atop one of the turnbuckles. "Throw one of the students around."
There were a half-dozen students positioned around the ring, all appearing to be Tommy's age or younger. All of their eyes quickly grew wide as Rex's gaze fell upon them, immediately beginning to look around at one another. Rex chuckled and shook his head slightly as he stepped towards the ropes. "Nah, I think we're done for the day. You can hit the showers. Remember to take it easy tonight, we're heading out early in the morning and you're all going to have a pretty big week next week."
The two brothers watched as the six students walked towards the locker rooms, whispering excitedly amongst each other. Tommy took a deep breath with a small grin. "You know they've all figured out where you're taking them by now, right?" Rex's head quickly turned Tommy's direction, his brow furrowing. "Come on, you told them to pack for over a week. They all know your schedule, old man."
"Yeah," Rex laughed, shaking his head as he turned back to face the locker room doors. "I guess you're right."
"Can't believe you're flying them all to Kyoto with you," Tommy shook his head as he climbed off the turnbuckle and turned to lean against the ropes next to his brother.
"Japan's an important place for any wrestler to visit early in their career, I'm glad they're going to get a chance to train there for a week. Wish we could have. And there's so much talent on the King of the Monster's card I couldn't let them miss it. They don't get to see enough live, top-tier action here in Atlanta," Rex explained, all the while Tommy had turned and locked his gaze onto him, unwavering. Rex finally felt it and turned toward him with a confused look. "What?"
"How are you?" He asked bluntly, taking Rex aback slightly. After a moment, his happy expression fades and his eyes grow distant as they fall to the ground outside the ring. "This match has almost happened so many times and now it finally is.
How are you?"
"I should have paid closer attention to the scheduling, you know?" He responded with disappointment. "I don't think I gave Aidan Collins or Mark Mania my all, knowing what was on the horizon. I threw away my chance to get locked in a chamber with Jack. That's one of my biggest regrets."
When he finished speaking there was a pause and he looked up to realize Tommy was still staring at him through unwavering, squinted eyes. They stood there staring at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time before Rex finally sighed.
"I'm fine. I saw the doctor, she said I'm in the clear. Spine is healthy. Neck's fine, legs are fine. I'm fine," Rex said quietly, but more excitement poked through with each word. "This
will finally happen."
With no hesitation, Tommy stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his big brother. The latter was surprised by it, laughing a bit. But after a few seconds, Rex's expression faded to one void of emotion as he wrapped his arms back around his little brother tightly. They stood there.
For a while.
January 23rd, 2019 - Kyoto, Japan - Hyatt Regency Kyoto, My Hotel Room
They're calling this six years in the making, but that doesn't really do it justice. Not for me, anyways. For you, Douglas, this has only been building for six years. But for me? This has been building far longer than that.
When I moved into my first apartment at seventeen it was the first time I ever had a television. It wasn't mine, technically, but my roommates didn't have any problems with me using it to watch wrestling. They were fans too, eventually at least. Every Wednesday night they'd invite people over to drink beer and watch Sin City Wrestling with me. They'd only get through like fifteen minutes of the show before getting distracted by one thing or another. Not me. Every Wednesday night, all night, beginning to end. I was staring at that shitty little 27-inch TV, watching Wildcard.
Watching you.
There was a show almost every night of the week. TFWF, VWF, APW, and so on. But there was always a special place in my heart for those Wednesday nights, because that's where I wanted to be. Las Vegas. The glitz and the glam, the Luxor Casino. I always dreamed of wrestling there one day. Wrestling you one day.
One of those things happened. Nothing in my memory, outside of the day I met my son, compares to the feeling I had standing at the top of that ladder above Norcia, hoisting the Global Championship high above my head. It was practically a lifelong dream accomplished. Only one thing could slide between them. In two days time, it finally will.
So, yeah. Six years in the making on paper. But for me? Twelve.
Like I said, though, you weren't the only person I was watching. It's no secret to people who have followed my career, I grew up idolizing the True Experts of our business. Lester. Sandy. Even Jack. I met each of them, one by one. And one by one they each disappointed me.
I wrestled Level-One in a CRW vs APW match, and he left his partners high and dry, allowing me to pick up the victory. I knew his true colors that night. By the time Sally and I teamed up to take on he and Terry Marvin, I despised him. I lost.
When I entered my second Extreme Tournament, I was one of the first to arrive at Siberia because of my... circumstances. When the tournament got cancelled, Jack kept me there, torturing me. Breaking me down. Trying to end me. I fought tooth and nail from then on to eventually get back to him. When I finally did, I embarrassed him. So, a few months later, he came for me. I despised him. I lost.
Sandy Makel came to Sin City around the same time that I made my return to the company. I was on a tear and so was he. I finally had my chance to earn an opportunity for the Global Championship, and he chloroformed me. After I eventually won the title anyways, he was the first in line to come for it. I despised him. I lost.
In early 2013, six years ago, you were the CWC Champion around the same time that I was becoming one of the hottest names in the industry. I crawled from relative obscurity to fighting for over two hours against 99 other competitors in the Survive & Conquer match to finish third. You wanted a true challenger for your championship. You wanted me. My dream was coming true.
But it didn't. It didn't happen then, and it didn't happen several times after that, despite many attempts. The only time we ever stepped into the same ring as competitors was the following year's Survive & Conquer match, but Specter eliminated me before we got a chance to seize the opportunity.
Despite so many chances, despite so many failures, despite always being right there next to one another with the promise of an eventual fight between us... you were always cordial with me. No matter how vile you became, no matter how villainous... you always treated me with respect. That's the one thing that differs between you and all the other True Experts I've climbed into the ring with. I don't despise you. There's a reciprocated respect between us.
Maybe that's because deep down you always knew that one day I'd be the one to finally put you away. Maybe it was fate that's been preventing us from competing all these years. Maybe I've always been the one that's going to officially send you home to your family, unable to ever step foot in a ring again, and the fates just weren't quite finished with you yet. Until now.
A few weeks ago I stepped into the ring against Sewaside, another True Expert I looked up to growing up. I told him that I was going to let him walk out of the arena on his own out of respect for the man he used to be. I want you to know, Douglas, that I'm going to treat you with the same respect; however, I'm not going to make you the same promise.
I don't want you to walk out of the arena, because if you do? That gives you an opportunity to come back. That leaves things open ended. You deserve better than that. Everything I do to you in this match is going to be out of the deepest respect, Doug. Every bruise. Every cut. Every stitch. Every broken rib. Every single thing I do... delivered out of respect for one of the greatest professional wrestlers to ever step through the ropes.
And in the end your career will be over. I hope that, afterward, you can forgive me. That you can see I did it all for you. That even this was done out of respect. Why? How? Because this shell of the man that Doug E. Fresh used to be is disgracing your legacy. You're tarnishing everything you've worked your entire career to build. So, I'm going to end things for you in the most beautiful way I can imagine.
That way nobody will remember the past few months. Nobody will remember you losing the True Expert Championship to Jack. Nobody will remember you failing to secure a single win in the Extreme Tournament. Nobody will remember any of it. Instead, they'll remember the full magnitude of your career. Every highlight, every championship, every trophy, everything. Everything. Magnificently, mercifully... and brutally ended in one final blaze of glory at the hands of your greatest adversary.
That's what you deserve. That's what I want to give you.
And though you won't be able to walk out of the ring on your own, I'll pick you up. I'll carry you to the back myself, so that you can raise your fist in the air one final time, and these fans can give you the goodbye you deserve.
Some of my words might seem harsh. For good reason. I can't do this alone, Douglas. I want to give you what you deserve, what you have earned. But I can't do it unless the Doug E. Fresh I was supposed to fight six years ago shows up. The Doug E. Fresh that won Survive & Conquer five years ago. The Doug E. Fresh who won the True Expert Championship. The Doug E. Fresh I was scheduled to step into the ring with two and a half years ago, before my body gave up on me. The Doug E. Fresh I used to watch on a 27" television screen all those years ago.
I want that Doug... but you? You need that Doug. And maybe, just maybe, these harsh words will be enough to coax him back out.
Two days, Douglas. Two days. Finally. Are you ready? I am.
Forgive me.
- Rex Evans