Dreams

[Dre Cutler]

JJ Biggs versus Jake Keeton at Night of the Immortals.

The last professional wrestling contest for both.

I never thought I'd be wrestling well into my forties. I've had over a dozen surgeries between both my knees. I've had numerous concussions, broken bones, and torn muscles. I've endured months at a time without seeing my family. I've wrestled under big-time contracts. And I've competed in matches where I've actually had to take a financial loss. It's been a rough, long, and grueling ride. I've been to the top of the mountain, enduring the struggle to reach the peak. And I've experience the demoralizing plummet to the bottom.

I've been through it all.

And I'd do it all over again.

I'd change nothing. The road taken shapes the man. The struggle makes the glory taste even sweeter.

I'm proud of the man I've become. Can you say the same, Jake?

I've spent the past few weeks inside your head. You can say I haven't, but it's clear to anyone with a set of eyeballs. I've been one step ahead of you from the beginning. I ruined a golden opportunity for you at High Stakes. I penetrated the brain of your son and made him believe I was taking him on the path to glory. I created a family divide within the Keeton household, creating a cloud of distrust. I beat the living piss out of your son on national television -- not once, but twice. I manipulated JC's bitch; she did good work for me, both in her storytelling with you two and bouncing on my dick.

Face it, Jake, I've done anything and everything I've wanted to since I arrived.

And I think it shows a distinct difference in the men we've become. Even after years of experience, you've shown time and time again that you are prone to being mind fucked over and over again.

You know what that says about you, Jake?

Your weak.

Your frail.

You run your mouth, spewing smart ass comments in every direction. But inside you're crying, tears are flowing and questions are unanswered. It's like you're constantly walking around in the dark. You've searched for years, trying desperately to find the light switch. Every now and again, you lucked out and found it, but each and every time the light went out and you were forced to search for it again.

At the start of your career, you had an important test in front of you. And you know what? You fucking aced it, man. But you failed to realize that, from then on, the answers were always changing.

I've adapted. You've stayed the same.

You're always trying to compare our careers, trying to raise doubt on my accomplishments. Think about it, Jake, you've spent years following people around that put you in positions to succeed. You've signed with organizations ran by friends and associates, me included, at one point and time. In these organizations, you gained so many victories over the likes of Nighthawk and Jack Gaither, constantly avoiding the real competition. You were basically handed so much success over your career, but you're too arrogant and stupid to realize it.

Yet, you act as if you should be treated as a legend. And for some dumbass fucking reason, the fans treat you like one. I'm here to put an end to that. You're Jake Keeton, a man that had a long and decently successful career.

But you're not a fucking legend.

I've been steps ahead of you for weeks. Just when you think you're catching up, I quickly change direction and you trip over your own feet. By the time you get back up, I'm gone again and you're struggling to catch up. Do you think things are going to be any different at Night of the Immortals? You really think you're going to be able to beat me, Jake? You think it's going to be simple, don't you? Target the knees, why not?

Go ahead.

You can cut my fucking legs off.

I won't stop. I won't quit. This is my last match, and I'm damn sure not going to finish my career with anything other than a victory.

You've pranced around for far too long, it's time for "The Featured Attraction" to finally tell you to sit your ass down. The age of Jake Keeton came and went years ago, but you missed it because you were distracted in your search for the light switch. But the age of JJ Biggs, it lives forever, Jake. It never stops, even when I retire. That's the difference between you and I.

I'm forever.

I know we are going to have a match for the ages. Why wouldn't we? The way we perform in our final match will go a long way in determining how we are remembered. I'm ready to die in that ring, Jake. I think that is something a lot of people say just to say it, but I promise you I mean it.

Prepare to have your world shattered around you.

Prepare to be exposed, Jake.

Once that bell rings, and you and I are finally going to square off, you will see that I am the better man.

I am "The Featured Attraction."

And simply put, I was born better.

-----

Tuesday, August 12th, 2014 

The sky is dark gray, all hint of light smothered by clouds. Rain is coming down at a slow but steady pace, losing a battle against gravity it was never meant to win. The dreary weather is responsible for the streets being lonesome and barren; everyone choosing to snuggle inside to stay warm and dry. All signs of life are gone, with the exception of a vehicle, freshly parked and idling. The driver kills the engine as both he and a passenger exit from the vehicle in unison and close their doors quietly.

As if they are functioning off one brain, they both swipe at the front of their clothes to remove any debris before placing a hat on their heads to complete the ensemble. They are both clad in a dark blue military uniform, various ribbons and badges don the right breast area on their chests. The rain picks up a little bit, pounding down on them as they maneuver as one around the vehicle and towards a house.

They move in complete silence, both men walking at the same pace and looking forward. The maneuver their way to the front door. One of them falls to the back, slightly, allowing the other to take the lead. The man in front visibly draws in a deep breath, his chest rising before returning to its natural position as he exhales. He raises his hand, closed-fist, and knocks with a purpose three times, then he returns his hand to his side while he waits patiently.

The door opens slowly, revealing a familiar face in the doorway. JJ Biggs, clad in only a pair of black basketball shorts, makes eye contact with the man directly in front of him. His mind is racing but he's doing everything he can to avoid jumping to conclusions. His mouth is agape and eyes wide as he stands, frozen, unable to acknowledge the men in front of him, only capable of staring.

"John Biggs, Junior?"

JJ's mouth twitches and an inaudible noise escapes but forming cohesive thoughts and words at the moment are impossible. He manages a nod in response.

"I have been asked to inform you that your son, Myles Biggs, has been reported dead..."

-----

Present Day 

JJ Biggs: I've... thought about our last conversation a lot these past few days.

"The Featured Attraction," clad in a pair of faded blue jeans and a black Chevelle t-shirt, sits on the ground, his legs pulled in and arms resting on his knees. The wind is howling around him, causing leaves and various debris to dance like classically trained professionals. He is surrounded by various tombstones and grave sites, all of which stretch as far as the eyes can see. He swallows hard and turns his gaze to the one directly in front of him, the name on it reads: Myles Biggs.

JJ Biggs: I -- I realize I should have handled the situation differently. I'm haunted by my actions to this day. You came to me, even though you didn't have to, and asked for my blessing. I was -- damnit, Myles, I was scared of losing you. I --

He pauses mid-sentence, looking away from his son's tombstone. JJ shakes his head softly, trying to fight back the emotions that are rumbling to the surface. He stares off into space, but resumes speaking as he does so.

JJ Biggs: I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. I -- after your funeral, I just -- I don't know, I was angry, I was hurt. I think I was pissed at you, of all people, I was pissed at you. How fucking shallow am I? My son, my first born, wanted to serve his country with honor. And he did -- and it cost him his life. And I blamed you, Myles. I -- hated the fact that you were gone and I would never see you again. I was so -- I don't know, I was fucked up, and I let my misguided emotions prevent me from coming to see you.

He pauses once more, his voice beginning to tremble. He returns his gaze to his son's tombstone, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. He sniffles before harshly wiping them away before they escape his eyes.

JJ Biggs: It will always eat at me; the last memory I have of you is me telling you to never come back. That's -- that's just fucked.

"The Featured Attraction" looks at the ground in front of him, pausing as he continues to get lost in the memory of his last conversation with his son.

JJ Biggs: It's -- you know, I always told you that you can do whatever you want to do. I just -- I guess I wasn't ready for your military pursuit. And that's on me, and I will live with that until the day I die. We talked a lot about dreams that day, Myles; while telling me yours, we talked about mine. And -- without all of you being so supportive throughout the years, I'd have fallen flat on my face and accomplished nothing. It took my longer than it should have to realize this, Myles, and I -- my God, I'm so, so, so sorry. I just -- I don't know, after I got over my childish aggression towards the whole situation, I was too much of a coward to visit you. But I -- it just --

He takes in a long breath, holding it deep inside as he tries to compose himself. He exhales slowly while running his hands through his beard and trying to avoid losing his battle with the emotions inside.

JJ Biggs: It felt right, now, it just felt right, because my dream is coming to a conclusion in a few days. I'm -- well, I'm retiring after my next match. To really close the door on my career, on my dream, I had to try to repair the damage I've done. I know I'll never be able to do that but I will spend the rest of my existence trying.

JJ sniffles a couple of times and wipes away a few stray tears from his cheeks. He rises to his feet and takes a couple of steps towards his son's tombstone. He stops a couple of inches away from it, his bottom lip trembling.

JJ Biggs: I'm proud of you, son. I -- I'm so sorry for everything. I live every day with a heavy heart and you're always on my mind. I'm going to wrestle my last match like a man possessed because I know you'd expect nothing less of me. I love you, Myles, please never forget that...

JJ wipes both of his eyes once more, trying his hardest to maintain control. He bends forward and softly kisses the top of the tombstone. He returns to a vertical base, taking one more glance at the writing. And while he's reading it, the wind stops, almost immediately, and for the first time the entire day, the sun peaks through the heavily clouded sky and shines brightly. JJ takes notice of the sudden change in weather, a small smile forms in the corner of his mouth. He pats the top of the tombstone a couple of times before turning on his heel and heading towards his car.

"A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work." - Colin Powell