Lost Boys: Different Directions

[TheLostBoys]

On this particular day in Dayton, Ohio we bear witness to an uncommon occurrence. Dean Coulter and Sam Braxton, the seemingly inseparable Lost Boys, are not together. Furthering this strange anomaly is the reversal of the roles of the two Australian wrestlers. The usually restrained and composed Dean Coulter is finding solace in the bottom of glass, after glass, after glass. Whilst Sam Braxton, unashamedly known as the brash one, wanders almost aimlessly around the Aviation Heritage National Historic Park. He seems a bit more introverted and introspective than usual (that being none) and isn't paying attention to his surroundings. In his hand is a pamphlet for the Top 7 Tourists locations in Dayton.



"It was supposed to be us flying high. But instead we are moments way from a spectacular crash and burn..." Sam mumbled to himself.



"Excuse me?" A passer-by asked, looking at Sam in a perplexed and apprehensive manner.



"Huh?" Sam was brought back to reality and his current surroundings, realising his comments had attracted some unwanted attention.



"Oh. Don't mind me. Just thinking aloud. Got a lot going on up there."



With that he made an exit before someone else thought he was crazy and called the cops on him.

The truth was Sam didn't know what was going on and therefore didn't know what to feel. Sure he technically won his match last week but it was Will Fennell, a man he deemed severely inferior to himself that had achieved the victory. Sam's showing was less than spectacular. He also knew that something was wrong with Dean, something was coming between them and he felt absolutely powerless. On top of that one of his opponent's last week, James Gilmore (who was to partner with Sam and Dean in the upcoming match) had made a comment that had resonated with Sam.



'He was nothing without Dean.'



Warranted they were closer than many couples and had been a team for most of their lives. But still...Sam had always styled himself as independent and self-reliant, so the comment hurt his ego somewhat.

For the first time Sam needed someone to talk to, but ironically was lacking in a confidant. On a whim he pulled out his phone and dialled up a number...



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To further the anomalous separation of the Lost Boys was the reversal of roles between Sam and Dean. While Sam was wandering through the more touristy aspects of Dayton, Ohio lost to his thought. Dean Coulter, the more restrained and contemplative, was seated front and centre in the Dublin Pub, hoping to find…something at the bottom of glass, after glass, after glass.
Or as he put it, 'getting ready' for the upcoming match.


“Hey take it easy there pal. It’s barely gone midday and I’d hate to have my first patron thrown out so early.”



Dean looked to the bartender. A homely looking young man. He watched Dean with the reluctance of someone expecting trouble.



“Mate. You ever been so involved with someone for so long that when it begins to feel stifling you have no idea where to go? Or what to do?”



“Ah. A bad break up?”



“God no. Well…no, not really. It’s complicated.”



“Always is. But do us all a favour and have some waters for a while yeah?”



“I can’t help but think that we made a terrible mistake. But I know that they’ll never accept that. They’ll never consider heading back home.”



“Sounds like this partner of yours may not be thinking about what’s the best for the both of you. Communication is key. I suggest sitting down with them and sorting this all out. Before it destroys the both of you.”



“If only…like I said it’s complicated. We’ve been together for so long. Sure we’ve had our differences, we’re only human after all. But this…This is different and I am not comfortable with who I am becoming to make this work.”



Dean checked his watch.



“Ah. I’d better be going.”



“Just take it easy. You’ll be alright.”


"Yeah. I'll be fine."

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Sam and Dean met up later to rendezvous in front of the Crowne Plaza, the hotel where they were staying. Dean was looking a bit disheveled, but yet again Sam said nothing.

"Alright Sam you ready to do this?"

"I'm ready. In fact. Mate, why don't you head back up to the room and kick back."

"What? We've got a promo to do."

"I'll handle the promo. You just do whatever it is you've been doing with your downtime lately."

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked at Sam suspiciously.

"What have you got planned?"

"Nothing, just going to do the promo. Seriously I got this. You clearly need to rest and recover before Monday."

With that Sam motioned for an oncoming taxi. Dean paused and looked to his friend, then to the hotel lobby doors and back again a couple of times. He then shrugged and began walking towards the hotel doors.

"Play nice!" He called back to Sam, who looked at the departing Dean with worry and disappointment.

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The camera comes into focus to show the solitary figure of Sam Braxton once more seated dead centre in front of the camera's view.



"Before anyone asks, I've asked to take the helm on this one, so sorry to say you're dealing with just me again. Not by necessity, but by choice...Sort of. That is how confident we are about our coming match, that we only need one voice. Lets cut to the chase. Last week my...'team' won over James Gilmore and El Grande Malo, but it was the Bayou Bogan, Will Fennell, who was able to get the pin. Much to my shame and chagrin. Thankfully this week I can reclaim some of what I lost last week because Will is once more on the opposing side to me. I don't know what it is about you boys and us, but we seemed destined to always clash. Like some grand Hero and Nemesis story. But don't full yourself you could never amount of Superman, and you are certainly not smart enough to be Lex Luthor. But regardless I will make you remember what happened the last time you go involved with me."



"So I'll move on to my other opponents. Devlin Raine, the self-styled "Destiny Dealer" and Ryan Shane. Names I am only vaguely familiar with. We've never faced off against each other so you've never even been a blip on my radar. How quickly times change. But I believe the saying goes, 'the more things change, the more they stay the same.' Because even though we may now be opponents. you are still little more than a blip. Ryan...you make yourself out to be some 'somebody', trying to undo your past failures or some nonsense. A changed man and all that cliche bullshit. Go look, long and hard in a mirror Ryan, because once a failure. ALWAYS a failure. So please do yourself a favour and don't start thinking, just because you ahve picked up some paltry early victories, which says more about your competition then it does you, that your destined to achieve any greatness. This is a cold, harsh business and come Saturday you will be stepping into what is my forte. An art I have spent almost my entire life perfecting...Just don't get too disappointed. Ok Ryan?"



"But speaking of destined....I now turn my sights on to Devlin Raine. What happened? There you were, seemingly owning the arena and on a fast track, hoping to make a name for yourself. And then what? You fall short and pull a disappearing act? Not sure if anyone has mentioned this to you yet. It's hard to deal out destinies on a part-time basis. Perhaps if you were a bit more of a Beast you could get away with it. But you're not. Not one of you. So Dean would then beg the question; what are you? But since he's not here I am going to asnwer for him, and for you. You are the cast of a Z grade ensemble film, thrown together by drawing names from a hat. Here I'll prove it."



From underneath the chair Sam produces a bland, no-label cap, with a series of small paper pieces cluttered inside. Staring straight at the camera he grabs a paper and holds it up.



"My first team mate next week is going to be...Paige Garcia...You know what. I'm ok with this. She's hot and is the current Diamond's Champion, so at least I know she's quality."



He pulls out a second paper and holds it up for the camera.



"And finally...well fuck...Next week Paige and I are teaming up with Vasco Dias...Well that sucks. But you get my point. Dean and I are a team. Always have been, and always will be. A well-oiled, tag-team machine. But beyond that we're the closest of friends, we know how to settle any differences, in or out of the ring. I can trust in him. Gilmore however is a rogue element in this instance, but as long as he keeps in place on the apron and just lets the Lost Boys take care of business. Then there won't be any problems. And I'll show him there is so much more to Sam Braxton!"



"Now I've done more than enough talking. I'll just wait for Monday and let our actions speak volumes."
 

And with that the camera cut out.