Page 1 of Heartbreaker
It all started with a bet. A risk. Putting everything on the line with no way of knowing how it will end. Sometimes, the loss is so insignificant, it doesn’t matter, but other times it means losing everything…
“You think you can beat me?” Austin Murray—better known to the world by his ring name “The Showstopper”Spencer Austin—scoffs on the monitor in front of me. He shares a look with Viviana, his wife both on and off screen.
The crowd chants a chorus of “Aus-tin,” bringing another smirk to the current Elite Wrestling Entertainment Champion’s face. The oversized leather belt rests on his left shoulder. The EWE logo sits on the large golden center plate, which is riddled with gemstones to make it shine beneath the bright stadium lights. On either side are two smaller golden plates that contain the initials S.A. in delicate script—a weird choice considering the man who holds the belt, but who am I to judge? He won the title six weeks ago, unseating former champion “The Reaper”Brody Wilderin a triple-threat match between the two of them andBrooks Taylor.
The defeat leftBrooksitching for revenge…
“You hear that, Brooks?”Spencerpractically spits the name. “They don’t wantyou. They’re tired of you.”
The monitor switches to show the man he’s been heckling for the past five minutes.Brooks Taylor, better known to me as John Brooks—but to the world, he’s just Brooks. He towers at the top of the steel ramp that leads down through the crowd and straight to the mouth of the ring dressed in jeans and one of his vintageBrooks TaylorT-shirts from almost ten years ago. The black material clings to his figure, showing off his strong, athletic build. The wings of an eagle spread across his broad chest, outlining his name.Built for thisis written in bold, capital letters at the bottom. It’s a simple concept for a not-so-simple man…
Brookslooks unamused, glaring down the ramp at the wrestler who has been a thorn in his side for the last three months. WhileBrooks Taylormight not find any of this amusing, I can only assume the person behind the mask of this performance is eating it up. Mischief swims in those dark blue eyes, the same ones that used to stare into my soul and say, “I love you.”
A bold-faced lie.
“And you know, I think it’s comical you think you can beat me.You couldn’t even beat Vee with a hand tied behind your back!” That makes me roll my eyes. This whole thing has been embarrassing, even by EWE standards.
When I saw the disastrous match betweenBrooksandVivianatwo weeks ago, I couldn’t believe Noah was okay with it. Noah Callahan is the Chief Content Officer and husband of Elite Wrestling Entertainment darling, Chelsea Rafferty. But it wasn’t his idea at all; it was Amos Rafferty’s. Amos is the man who started the Elite Entertainment Wrestling empire over thirty years ago, and what Amos wants…Amos gets. Case in point, the storyline betweenBrooks Taylorand theAustins. Spencer and Viviana have been married for six months now, and while Noah might have found their on-screen relationship stale by now (his words, not mine), Amos has allowed them to keep going with it.
“Should we see a clip?I think we should.Roll the clip!”Spencer’s demands are met when a recap of their match appears on the screen…
The referee tied Brooks’s hand behind his back. Brooks tested the give of the rope before he rolled his neck and shoulders, loosening up. Austin whispered to Viviana from the apron—the outermost part of the ring—and she cracked her knuckles, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The referee motioned to ring the bell, and Austin jumped to the floor. Viviana moved toward her opponent, chopping Brooks across the chest three times, backing him into the corner. She jumped up on the ropes on either side of him, providing some extra leverage as she wailed down on him. Looking out at the crowd, Viviana landed a final blow and jumped down as Brooks slumped farther into the corner.
Jumping down from the ropes, she stalked back into the opposite corner, watching. When he began to stir, she sprang into a somersault that landed a hard kick on his chest. The impact sent him back into the ropes. The force springboarded him back into the ring, straight into her foot.
With her opponent down, Viviana took a moment to celebrate, and it gave him the chance to recoup. She attempted to kick him on his way back up, but he caught her foot and twisted instinctively, about to go for his signature move, the Legacy Lock. She yelped in pain, and Brooks dropped her foot at the sound.
“Enough, Vee!” Brooks yelled. “Enough, I’m not going to fight you.”
“Finish him,” Austin said from under the bottom rope, and the crowd began to chant the same thing. As Brooks tried to talk sense into her, Viviana climbed the top rope and landed another dropkick, this time to his head. Brooks fell to the mat, and in a quick 1…2…3, Viviana was declared the winner.
The camera pans toViviana, and her growing smirk is met by a loud chorus of “boos.”That’s interesting…This is the first crowd that has mostly been behindBrookssince the start of their feud.
“You didn’t even try, Brooks,”Spencerpractically whines. “You could’ve at least tried to put up a fight, given her something to work with.”
Brooksstands tall and confident, maintaining that stereotypicalBrooks Taylorfaçade—the one I had always admired but hated all the same. I wanted to see him crack sometimes, give in to the feelings he buried deep inside…but that wasn’t who the man behind the mask thoughtBrooks Taylorwas supposed to be. The character ofBrooks Taylorwas supposed to be a larger-than-life superhero who got back up when he was down and kept going no matter what.
There isn’t anyone like John Brooks in this company, no one who can oust him from his place on the throne of EWE…No one is prepared to take his place because no one is willing to do what he does. Not even the man standing in front of him, despite how much Spencer thinks he wants it. He has always believed he’s better than Brooks, better than most of the locker room, and has vied for the top spot in the company for as long as I’ve known him. But, just like everyone else, he’s failed to prove himself worthy.
“Are you serious?”Brooksasks. The sound wraps around me like a blanket in the winter, warming my body to the core. It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice not on a television screen in over two years, and it still has the same effect on me that it did the first time we met.
“You ready?” A voice cuts through the spell I’ve been under for the last ten minutes. Noah Callahan.
With a small smile, I shake my head. Noah chuckles, giving me a thumbs up, and motions me toward the black curtain separating the gorilla post—the operations center backstage—from the timekeeper position. Once I walk through that curtain, there’s no going back…
Taking a deep breath, I grip the black material between my fingers. I have no idea what waits for me on the other side, but more importantly, I have no idea what waits for me when I come back through it.
A deep wave of nausea rolls through my entire being as I step into the waiting area. Feeling a little nauseous—a little nervous—before you walk out is normal, maybe even expected, because once you step out on the other side, all of that gets replaced by pure, unadulterated adrenaline. It’s a high unlike anything in the world, and even though I know that, my body hasn’t quite caught up to my brain, and I’m almost certain I might throw up. I haven’t felt like this since my debut nine years ago. Garbled voices come from the earpiece in the timekeeper’s left ear, counting down until it’s time to kill the lights.
Brooks’s voice is closer when he speaks this time, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Goosebumps rise across my skin despite the black hoodie I’m wearing—the one I had to wear to maintain anonymity backstage. “I wasn’t going to fight your wife.Are you insane?Vee is good, but I refuse to do that.” There’s a spark in the air following his words. A hum in the crowd as I imagine a smirk lifts the right corner of his mouth.
I strip the hoodie from my shoulders and drop it to the side of the room seconds before the timekeeper gives me a single nod.
Brooks has no idea what’s about to happen. None of them do. My return to EWE has been something Noah and I have kept close to the vest for the last two months.
I can imagine the look on his face, wetting his lips with a growing smirk, asBrookssays, “But I know someone who will.”
Showtime.
