"
Come on man, lets grab a drink."
I hopped out of the front seat of James car and walked toward the door our our favorite bar.
"
Two seconds mate, I need to call the misses and let her know we made it."
James' voice didn't slow me down. I was ready to head in and find a seat. People knew us here. Not in an annoying way, but it wasn't uncommon for someone to buy us a drink. It was still unusual to me. A Midwestern kid and a run of the mill guy from England, and we were something of cult heroes in this small bar just outside of San Francisco. As I got inside I shook a few hands, slapped a few fives, and posed for a picture. Strikeforce was on top of the world. We were about to head into Unscripted in the biggest match of our lives and we were more than ready. As I found an empty booth, James made his way inside. He went through the same motions before he slid into the booth opposite me.
"
Sorry about that mate, you know how Dinah worries, what with her being so close to her due date."
I checked the time on my phone and then pulled up a picture to show to James.
"
Is it just me or are ninety percent of the people who want pictures me with kids?"
I slide my phone back in my pocket.
"
You are like a big, scruffy teddy bear. Kids are drawn to that."
Almost as soon as James had finished the waitress walked up and slid into the booth next to James.
"
Hey there fellas, what can I get for you tonight?"
She made sure to scoot as close to James as possible.
"
I'll have a jack and coke."
"
Okay, jack and coke for the handsome man. And for you big guy?"
"
Rum and coke, make it a double. And an order of wings with ranch."
The waitress wrote down our order and slid out of the booth.
"
I'll get that right in boys."
She left with a wink at James. I looked at him, disappointed.
"
Man, why do the girls always go for you?
He simply shook his head, ignoring my question as the bar began to blur and fade.
I sat up in bed, scratching my head. I started to recall the dream as I swung my legs over the side of my bed, my feet touching the floor. I guess for a long time there was a lot of jealousy that was beginning to build in me. James had always been better than me, that was the long and short of it, but I didn't think he was so much better that he deserved all of the praise and attention. When groups of fans wanted pictures and autographs, they always ran to him first. When girls wanted to give us their number, they always went to him, despite him being engaged with a child on the way. Maybe that night is where the seeds were planted, maybe they were planted further back. I didn't know, but I did know that with each passing day I grew jealous of my friend. Like an overlooked younger brother, I grew spiteful of James.
I stood and went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I grabbed a nearby towel and wiped it dry. I stared back at the man in the mirror. He was different. He wasn't me. Despite not recognizing him, I was unsure how I felt about him. Sometimes I liked him and felt drawn to him, other times I was scared and ashamed of him. My feelings on the man looking back at me were just as confusing as my feelings toward James. I loved James, he was my best friend, my brother, my protector from myself. His family had taken me in like one of their own. For that I was eternally grateful. On the other side of the coin, he often pushed me aside when non wrestling things came up. He had gone behind my back during the Sergei ordeal. When he came back, he retook the spotlight. I may have failed in my quest to avenge him, but he never gave me a chance to stand on my own two feet. For that, I hated him.
I walked to the window, looking out at the busy street below. It had been some time since I had been in England. The last time I was here James took me to his father's grave site. He trusted me enough to allow me to see him at his most vulnerable. It was a touching moment, but this trip would include no such heartwarming moments. I was the enemy, the foreign invader. James was the hometown hero, defending his belt against the outsider. I would receive no warm welcome, I was the bad guy. I would be booed unmercifully. So I had to hide my face.
I walked to my bag and pulled out my mask. I walked back to the mirror and slipped it over my face. The man who looked back at me was confident, powerful. The man whose eyes I stared into didn't care about what the fans thought, or about winning gold. He cared about one thing, and one thing only. Getting his hands around the throat of James Howard and slowly sucking the life out of him, until the man in the mirror had exacted his revenge.
