"I'm changing my path." -Vega
185.4 lbs
Do you have any idea?
10 pounds... nice.
A drop of perspiration splashes on the digital scale's display screen as Vega stands on it, shirtless and in gym shorts, proudly drenched in sweat as he stares at the number. Next to him stands Agent Fields, dressed in his typical black suit and loosened tie, looking as out of place as one can in this busy fitness center. The sounds of barbells clanging and exercise machines running seem to slightly annoy Fields as he dons a confused look on his face as he stares at Vega, who pays him no mind.
10 pounds? What are you talking about?
I've gained 10 pounds.
Agent Fields studies Vega's body, specifically his stomach.
You don't look fat.
Muscle. I've gained 10 pounds of muscle.
That's nice, Will... but I asked you about Alexis' whereabouts. I know you've been tracking her down.
Vega flexes his arms a bit, briefly showing off his slightly improved physique before stepping off the scale. He makes his way towards a workout bench, and grabs a decent sized dumbbell left on the floor next to it. Fields follows him, avoiding getting near anybody else in fear of getting sweat on his suit. He watches Vega begin to do curls with his right arm as he waits for a reply.
Well?
Vega doesn't stop his workout, but obliges with a response while he continues his curls.
This last cycle taught me a lot. Being in the ring with people like Tyrone Blades, Flex Mussel, Matt Tastic, and now I'm days away from facing Harald Var Krigare for the second time... they're all bigger and stronger than I am. I used to think I could rely solely on my speed, accuracy and balance. That may have been enough for me to survive in the Mayhem Division, but there are levels to this game, and I'm on a whole new level now. I'm done surviving. It' time to succeed. I need more than just the best reflexes in the company to succeed at this level.
What... in the hell does that have to do with Alexis?
Vega stops, and places the dumbbell on the ground while exhaling sharply. He looks towards Fields with an unconcerned look in his eyes.
Nothing.
He then lifts the dumbbell up again, this time with his left arm, and continues doing his bicep curls. Agent Fields is somewhat dumbfounded by Vega's response. His face contorts as he attempts to make sense of Vega's cavalier attitude.
Wait, wait, wait... don't you care about where Alexis is?
Nope.
But, she blew up your penthouse! You know it was her.
Probably.
So?
Vega shrugs between reps, not even bothering to look up.
Okay, okay... what about Priya? She's been missing since the explosion. I know you care about her. That girl hasn't hurt a fly.
Maybe she went back home.
To England?
Vega nods apathetically.
But you don't know that for sure...?
Vega shakes his head, equally as apathetically. An exasperated Agent Fields throws his hands up in disbelief.
You know... I knew you had a choice to make, Will; either help me, or help Alexis. But never in a million years would I have guessed you'd choose to help neither.
Fields looks on at Vega, still struggling to process his indifference.
You know how hard it was to find you here? I thought you were still in Las Vegas, living it up in your penthouse. Instead, my intelligence team had to work overtime to find out you're spending your time at a damn gym... in Cleveland of all places. Since when do you even workout? Never mind that. Look, I know you never cared about me, but to not give a damn about Alexis or Priya isn't like you. What's changed?
Vega places the dumbbell back on the ground, concluding his bicep workout. He stretches and flexes his arms a bit before standing up off the bench and looking towards Agent Fields.
Sometimes you just have to change what you care about.
Oh yeah? And what do you care about now?
Vega stares at Fields with the first glimpse of sincerity he's had in his eyes all day.
The only thing I care about right now... is beating Harald Var Krigare.
Agent Fields isn't sure how to respond, but Vega could care less and simply walks away, done with his workout for the day. Fields is left standing in the middle of the busy gym, shaking his head, astonished by the man he used to know.
We follow Vega as he enters the men's locker room. He walks passed a handful of guys to get to his locker. Vega opens it and pulls his gym bag out. He places it on the bench, but before he can open it, he hears a familiar voice.
Aww shit, funny runnin' into you here.
Vega turns around to see Mr. Jones standing there nearly eclipsing him with his size yet not being the least bit threatening. Vega seems a bit confused as he looks around to assess the situation.
You always hang out in men's locker rooms?
What!? Hell nah. Homie don't get down like that. Not that there's anything wrong with that, y'know?
Whatever you say, Jones. Either way, you runnin' into me here... why doesn't this feel like it's just a coincidence?
Mr. Jones puts his hands up like a caught thief.
Aight, aight, you got me. I knew you was here, man. The Hollow Ones still got ears on the streets, homie. Word is you're in town for a specific reason.
Yup.
Word is... you're lookin' for someone.
That's right.
Mr. Jones smiles at Vega.
I can tell you where to find him.
--------------------------------------
The moonlight hazily reflects off the puddles gathered on the sidewalk on this rainy night. Vega stands there with his black boots halfway submerged in water and a matching raincoat that is whipping in the wind. He wipes his soaked hair away from his face while looking at an unimpressive sign nailed up over a worn down wooden door.
Little Kings Tavern
Vega takes a final glance before walking in. The loud storm outside is quickly muted as the door slams shut behind him. The few patrons of this run down establishment barely take notice that someone has even entered. The pool game continues uninterrupted to the side, and the jukebox continues playing classic rock.
The only person in the entire bar that notices Vega enter stands up from his bar stool and lifts his glass in the air. It's none other than Tyrone Blades. Vega makes his way towards him while brushing water off of himself. Tyrone greets him with a smile and motions with his hand for Vega to take a seat next to him.
Heard you been lookin' for me.
Vega sits down at the same time as Tyrone.
You heard right.
The bartender approaches Vega.
What'll it be?
Bourbon. Neat.
You got it.
Vega looks towards Tyrone's glass.
Club soda?
You know it.
The bartender serves Vega his bourbon. Vega takes the glass and holds it towards Blades. Tyrone grabs his club soda and clinks glasses with Vega.
Cheers, homie.
Cheers.
Both enjoy a sip of their drinks before placing the glasses back on the counter.
Well, you aint lookin' no more. Ya done found me now, son.
With a little help from your friend. I'm guessin' I'm only here because you wanted to be found.
Cleveland is my city, homie. I look out for it, and it looks after me. I heard you been lookin' for me lately... and as far as I'm concerned, you and me are cool, so I had no issues bein' found. It's all love, nah mean? So, what's up?
Vega stares into his bourbon.
I'm not here to get into your personal life. Your retirement, it came as a shock to me, and quite honestly perhaps to the entire WZCW Universe. I'm sure you had your reasons to step away form the game, and that isn't really any of my business.
I appreciate that, brother.
Truth be told, your abrupt retirement didn't leave me with the chance to say "Thank You."
What you tryna thank me for, homie?
Vega takes a sip of his whiskey, savoring the taste in his mouth before replying.
Last cycle... losing to you, tagging with you against Eve and Flex, and then battling Eve to a "No Contest"... it all led to R-Awakening...
R-Awakening... that night aint go so great for me, y'know? But it sure as shit was a good night for you. You beat Matt Tastic, and it aint even really take you that long to do it. You opened up some eyes that night, homie.
Vega shrugs, unconvinced by Tyrone's statement.
Maybe. But, we all have off nights.
True.
I've seen Matt Tastic in the ring. The man is capable of amazing things. The Tastic I faced at R-Awakening wasn't the same one I've seen in the past. I can admit that I got lucky that night. It was Matt's first match back form injury. I may have beaten him, but I didn't beat him at his best.
You aint lyin' there, but a win is still a win. And you did it fair and square.
Tyrone takes a sip of his club soda while studying Vega a bit, seemingly impressed by what he sees.
Jones told me he tracked you down at a gym. Looks like you been hittin' them weights kinda hard. You makin' gains, son. Not gonna lie, I aint take you as the gym type.
I wasn't.
How much you put on, man? Gotta be 7... 8 pounds...
10.
10!? Since when?
Since the last time I lost...
Vega looks towards Tyrone.
...lost to you.
Blades leans back in his bar stool.
Daaamn, son... you gained 10 pounds of muscle in a little over 2 months? That's impressive. What made you start goin' all Schwarzenegger on us man?
Losing to you the way I did, being in the ring with Eve, Flex and Matt this cycle... it changed my outlook on this business. I used to be able to get by on raw skill. I got by in this company by being quicker, striking faster without ever learning any real wrestling holds or technique. I never bothered to lift a weight, do a sit up or try a push-up. My greatest gifts were my mind and my reflexes and for a long time there it worked.
Then I left... and everything changed.
Vega takes another sip of his bourbon. He shakes his head, pondering the time he spent away.
In the almost 5 years I was gone from WZCW, the sport evolved... the competitors evolved. Whether it be legends like Titus, Constantine, Eve or yourself... or new faces like Kagura, Callie, Keaton or Harald Var Krigare... the talent in this company evolved. And yet, there I was, returning after 5 years... never evolving, never growing, never learning how to succeed. I thought I was going to come back and take this company by storm.
Vega brushes his drenched hair away from his face before whipping the water off of his hand.
Instead... it was me who would be caught in the storm.
Vega shakes his head in disappointment.
Then two bolts of lightning in the middle of the storm hit me right in the face... Click, Clack.
Vega looks towards Tyrone once again.
The better man won that night.
Blades humbly lowers his head.
Respect, brother.
Vega nods, appreciating Tyrone's humility.
Ever since that night, thanks to you, I've had a brand new focus like I've never had before. I'm done just getting by in this company, and it starts this round with Harald Var Krigare.
That HVK is one big, bad man.
I know it all too well. I was in the ring with him the night he won the Mayhem Championship from Tony Mancini at Kingdom Come. He beat us, Tiger and Ace to win the title. I've felt his power. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced before in my life. He may not have pinned my shoulders down to the mat that night... but there's no doubt about it, that man beat me. These 10 pounds I've added? They mean nothing against Krigare. But this newfound focus inside me? This is something new to me.
It sounds like it's about time for you to take the next step. The Gold Rush Tournament changes careers, homie.
You're God damn right it does... I'm changing my path. My career shift begins this round at Ascension against Harald Var Krigare. This time, it's just me and him in the ring, one on one. No silly Tiger, no Ace Stevens, and no Tony Mancini to pick apart. Just Var Krigare standing across from Vega... and this time, I'm ready.
Hell yeah, mo'fucka.
Vega takes an emphatic sip of his bourbon before placing the glass back down on the counter. Blades eyes the drink, and looks back towards Vega.
You ever think about leaving that behind?
Leaving what behind?
Tyrone motions with his face towards Vega's bourbon.
The drinking?
And the smoking...
And the drugs...?
And the drugs.
Vega takes a deep breath while looking away just for a moment.
I know what it's like, homie. I been there. Look, I aint tryin' to sound like some after school special here, but if you're really tryin' to change your career path... the booze, the smokes, the drugs... it all keeps you from reaching your peak. And I'm tellin' you, brother... I felt it in you that night. You've got the potential to be a dangerous, dangerous man in this company. Hittin' the gym is a great start... but maybe it's time you take the next step.
Vega stares longingly into the last bit of bourbon left in his glass. The bartender notices him staring at what little whiskey he has left and offers him another pour.
'nother bourbon?
Vega looks over towards Blades before closing his eyes and shaking his head.
No. No more bourbon.
He opens his eyes, accepting what he must do with his life next before looking over towards the bartender.
Club soda, please.
The bartender obliges and prepares the the drink. Vega doesn't seem too thrilled, but Blades smiles proudly nonetheless. Once the non alcoholic drink is placed in front of Vega, he slowly shoves the glass containing the last bit of bourbon away from him. The bartender takes it away, and Vega is left staring at his new drink with an unfamiliar glaze. Tyrone lifts his own club soda into the air in encouragement.
To changing your path.
Vega produces a half smile, and lifts his club soda into the air, clinking glasses with Tyrone's.
Cheers to that... homie.
Blades chuckles at Vega's attempts at slang before the two enjoy a sober beverage together for the first time. Just then, Vega feels his iPhone go off in his pocket. An alarm can be heard as he takes it out.
Shit... I've got a flight to catch in less than an hour.
Where ya headed?
The place I used to call home... New York City.
Oh damn, that's right. Meltdown and Ascension are at The Garden this round.
Vega nods defiantly.
Madison Square Garden. I was born & raised a bike ride away from that place. There's no better place for me to start altering my path in this company then at The Garden. I may have no house right now to live in, but New York City will always be my home.
Tyrone smiles as he nods at Vega.
Then I think it's time you go back home, brother.
Vega stands up and nods back in agreement.
I think you're right.
Vega reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet to pay for his drink.
Don't worry about it. If that's your last drink... then it's on me.
Vega smiles as Blades stands up as well. They shake hands, and then give each other a halfway embrace of respect.
It's your time, homie.
Vega looks back with gratitude and confidence.
Thanks, Ty.
Blades smiles before Vega looks at his iPhone and notices the time.
I've got a plane to catch.
Vega smiles, and makes his towards the door. Suddenly, Tyrone remembers something and calls out to Vega.
Yo, Vega!
Vega stops in his tracks and turns around to see what Tyrone wants. Blades projects his voice across the bar so he can hear him.
You know that thing you said about never bothering to learn an actual wrestling hold?
Vega projects back.
Yeah...?
Well, I've got a friend that might be able to help you with that.
Oh yeah?
Yeah. I just got one question for you?
What's that?
Tyrone takes a sip of his club soda before replying to Vega with a smile on his face.
Ya ever been to Mexico?
-End-
