Steel Cage
Inside Gorilla Position.
I had stepped out a little early, and I welcomed Russell warmly when he came back after finishing his ceremony in the ring.
"Feeling recovered?"
"Yeah. Thanks for worrying about me."
Delighted to be reunited, we tapped fists lightly. At that, the staff who had spotted Russell started calling out.
"Russell, welcome back!"
"What a roar that was!"
Because of a flight delay, he hadn't arrived until after the show had already started. And since he'd been hiding out in a parked van to keep his return a surprise, most of them were only meeting him now.
Russell smiled at all the warm greetings and pointed at me, standing beside him.
"It's all thanks to this guy."
"True. Sin really held the show down solidly as the villain champion."
"I heard Gorilla Position echoes like thunder when a show's a real hit. I never thought I'd see it myself……"
"I watched the whole thing on television. Anyone who faces you comes out looking several times better than they were."
Suddenly the arrows of praise swung back toward me. I gave a wry smile and put a hand on Russell's shoulder.
"You're all healed up, right?"
"Completely fine. Passed the medical tests and everything. I could step into the ring right now if I had to."
"Still, let's agree not to push your body before the match."
"Fair enough. Can't have me getting hurt again and making trouble for everyone."
Russell furrowed his brow, looking a little guilty. But I thought it couldn't be helped.
Frankly, I was the one who ought to apologize — I'd been quietly glad the injury happened exactly when it was useful (?).
Good thing I only thought that one to myself.
Anyone who saw a person get injured and blurted out Woo-hoo! Now I can write it into the script! would be treated as garbage on the spot.
At any rate, it was a relief he'd recovered in good health. He'd even bulked up — when I touched his shoulder, it was properly firm now.
Just as we were sharing the joy of our reunion, Harley came back inside after greeting the crowd.
"Save the reunions for the locker room, kids. We've still got a dark match to run."
"Oh, right. Yes, Harley."
Russell nodded.
But oddly enough, the moment Harley walked in, the commotion only grew louder.
"Harley! You were amazing!"
"Great work out there!"
"You're still alive!"
"……You little punks."
Harley's cheeks flushed red, and I snickered.
"Let's head back together, Harley."
"Mm. And here I was going to offer to help with the work."
"Old men catch colds if they stay undressed that long."
"And which one of us was it, again, who's been living off this old man?"
"That'd be the brat Top Hill."
I answered with a mischievous grin, left the rest of the work to the others, and slipped out toward the locker room with Harley and Russell.
As we walked down the long corridor, I noticed Harley's back, flushed red from taking bumps in the ring.
"You did great out there."
"……Thank you."
"I didn't do anything. The crowd's reaction was absolutely massive."
"I thought I'd lost the right to receive that kind of response."
"Really?"
"Yeah. No matter what I did back in the day, I figured it wasn't right for the man I am now to get that kind of welcome."
Harley's expression turned quite serious.
Apparently he felt a touch apologetic about drawing such a reaction when he hadn't bled or sweated a drop in that ring.
"Still, thanks to you, I'll be sleeping very well tonight."
"Glad to hear it."
I smiled.
Maybe some old man, after what he saw tonight, would stand before a bathroom mirror and take a long look at himself. Remembering his younger days.
And if he then came back to the arena with his grandkids, paid for the tickets out of his pension, and bought them t-shirts — that would be the best ending of all.
"Why not just come back as an active wrestler?"
"And reserve a coffin while I'm at it."
With that cynical reply, he touched his lower back and stepped into the locker room.
The wrestlers waiting inside all rose from their seats to greet him.
He really will sleep well tonight.
I thought so as I watched Harley's retreating back, his face split by a satisfied grin.
After the show ended.
The wrestlers who had returned to the office gathered in the lounge and turned on the radio. Normally I would have listened to every minute of it, but tonight the content was predictable, so I ducked out partway through.
They'll be singing our praises, no doubt.
It was a quiet night. Crickets chirped in the grass, and the office — far even from the nearest gas station — hung in a heavy stillness. The perfect atmosphere for losing yourself in thought.
Russell's back sooner than I expected.
By the original plan, his return should have come right before the next pay-per-view, but things had turned out differently.
It was early October now. The next pay-per-view was in mid-December. In other words, the rivalry would have to be carried through the weekly shows for a stretch of more than two months.
Can we actually pull that off?
I turned it over every which way, but the answer that kept coming back was no. Dragging a feud out that long simply wasn't the GCW style.
Every rivalry ends at the pay-per-view. That was an article of faith.
But unlike the main event scene, our pay-per-views only came once every three months. So we'd found all sorts of ways to work around it when a story ran long — ending a rivalry midway, turning it into a three-way, or pitting whole teams against each other.
But my rivalry with Russell couldn't be stretched out like that. Because ours had been running ever since the moment I betrayed him.
From that day on, people had been waiting for his return. Whoever I feuded with, they remembered Russell.
That was why his return, helping Harley, had drawn a reaction every bit as huge as mine. It meant people had been waiting for him that badly. And so I couldn't let this drag on any longer.
Roughly ten shows from now. Two and a half months. If we kept the rivalry going that long, everyone would be worn out.
As fast as possible — but with a story that satisfies them completely.
I hand the belt to Russell and help him rise as the next top face. Then I get to close out Sin's story, the one that's run for over a year, exactly the way I wanted.
And if the reaction comes the way I expect, I head to the main event with my market value through the roof.
Plus I get professional satisfaction (?) thrown in for free.
A story this good was a massive boost to a wrestler's career, too.
Here's hoping it all goes well.
Just as I was settling on that conclusion, I heard movement behind me.
"Russell?"
"……What are you doing out here?"
He'd been getting his fill of congratulations (?) on his return from the senior wrestlers for a while now, and he looked thoroughly worn out.
He held out one of the vitamin drinks he was carrying in both hands.
"Figuring some things out."
"The storyline? If you're stuck, it might be better to set up a meeting with the creative team."
"I will. ……Wait, where'd this come from? I didn't see any in the fridge."
"Leftover from the night I drank them with Sheena. It's been sitting in my room this whole time."
"……Is it even safe to drink?"
"It was still within the date."
I decided to wait until Russell took the first sip before drinking mine. He swallowed the vitamin drink without a second thought and kept talking.
"Oh, by the way — I had an idle night at home watching the show, and I noticed something."
"Hmm?"
"My mother keeps a giant jug of maple syrup stocked up, ready to kill you with if you ever set foot in our house."
"……Maple syrup?"
"Canadians learn the art of killing a man with it."
"That's a new one on me."
"Want me to teach you?"
Russell grinned.
When he cracked a joke about his own ethnicity like that, I never knew how to respond. ……Probably because he felt comfortable enough around me to do it.
Somehow it reminded me of my own mother. Even born into a wrestling family, maybe mothers everywhere really aren't so different.
"Anyway — in that ring, you were more magnificent than anyone. If it had been me, I'd have been buried under the crowd's boos."
"You flatter me."
"But one thing kept gnawing at me."
"Yeah?"
"What are you going to do about Willie? Just keep ignoring it, like you have been?"
"Hard to say."
"……I suppose letting it slide is one option. But it doesn't sit right with me."
Russell's face clouded over.
The truth was, GCW had been acting all along as if the business with Willie had never happened. And that was a strange thing to do.
Because it wasn't a thing that never happened.
Glossing over it would mean denying the very act of inviting Willie into GCW and giving him joy.
And yet, because the boy had passed away, no one dared bring it up.
It was complete checkmate. ……Until I made up my mind, I'd thought so too.
I smiled and asked.
"How would you want it handled?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. What do you think?"
"I want to protect what needs protecting. But drawing that line feels like the hard part."
"A line?"
"Like if you went out on the show and insulted Willie just to draw heat from the crowd."
"But didn't that ship already sail, back when I betrayed you?"
"Well……"
Russell let out a long breath.
He was right. The moment I broke my promise to Willie, we had already crossed the line. A real event had been folded into the script.
We'd split the tag team and used Willie again, all for the sake of buzz.
That was how everyone would see it.
Until now, anyway.
"But Russell. Our rivalry isn't over yet, is it?"
"What?"
"Which means we still have a chance to set all of this right before it ends."
"……"
"Willie said something once. That he wished we two could go on without fighting, because he'd had a friend named Danny."
"Danny?"
"He never got to make peace with him. And Danny never came back."
"……I see."
"But come on — does that even make sense? People not fighting? Especially the two of us — just a year ago, we beat the hell out of each other starting our careers."
"You mean……"
"I talk about myself. You talk about yourself. We have it out, beat on each other, and then we understand each other. Isn't that a great story?"
Russell's eyes went round. But soon enough, he nodded as if he understood.
I had realized it after talking with Ebony too — brushing Willie aside was a disrespect. And Russell agreed.
"You really are the type to betray me."
"That's right. I'm the kind of man who'll do anything for success."
"And I'll understand that about you. ……Which is why I won't hate Sin the way he is."
"And maybe I never attacked you because I truly hated you, either."
"Oh-ho……"
Russell seemed to sink deep into his role, like an actor vanishing into a part.
When he looked at me again, the gaze was different from before — a little more complicated.
He brings his ideas, I bring mine, and from that the ending of the script would take shape. But one thing was certain.
"We're going to talk about Willie. One week before the match."
With that, I raised my vitamin drink toward Russell.
A light toast.
And so, at long last, the script for my rivalry with Russell began.
Three weeks. We'd face off in the fourth and hand over the belt, and until then the rivalry would build through in-ring segments and promos.
The first show of Russell and my true collision had arrived.
Kicking off the opening, Russell stepped up onto the stage to a tearing guitar riff and the roar of the crowd.
"A lot has happened."
And with that, he began telling his story in plain, unadorned words.
No theatrics were needed. No bellowing, no exaggerated gestures. The people wanted to hear Russell's story, plain and simple.
"It was agony. Even watching the show on television was hard. But I kept watching, to whip myself forward."
His words held emotion in the tightest possible restraint.
"While I waited for the day I'd fight that man for the championship belt. And I am ready now. I've even picked the place befitting that fight."
But the restraint itself gave the words their weight of truth. Russell was holding his rage in check with everything he had — and the crowd could feel it.
The audience's response was thunderous.
The end of this rivalry would be my final match in GCW.
And against Russell, no less — the rival who had walked nearly the whole of my year-and-a-half career beside me.
To bring such a long-running feud to its close, a stage of that caliber was only fitting.
"Steel Cage."
We would fight like beasts locked inside a cage of steel.
……But plans are only plans.
A few days later, everything veered off in a direction none of us had imagined.