America Jackson: Coda - Architects of Tomorrow
Mar 23, 2021 0:00:50 GMT -5
Jubei and chase like this
Post by america on Mar 23, 2021 0:00:50 GMT -5
Tomorrow.
That’s what it’s all come down to, right?
One last show.
One last fight.
One last match.
It’s weird, man. The stakes feel so strange. Like I’m coming out here looking to fight like hell to decide who will be the last champion and on one level I know that win or lose, tomorrow looks very much the same. I’m gonna pack my bags and fly on home and live my life with or without the gold that I’ve spent the last six months obsessing over packed in with me. The paychecks are going to stop rolling in. I get to decide whether or not I’ll be like every other champ of a dead fed, finding a new challenge and walking on in like I got a ten foot dick before the first bell’s even rung. Or…I could just go home, call it one hell of a career in a single banner year and let my accomplishments stay in the memory of each and every person who was with us along the way.
Not a single part of that changes, win or lose.
No one would fault me coming out short here.
It’s the end of the line, they’d say.
You were looking ahead, they’d say.
There’s always tomorrow, they’d say.
I could almost believe that.
I could almost accept it.
But then I’d think back to the last year of my life. Of every battle that carried me forward. Of the title shot that everyone thought would be an easy defense for a fresh champion which would turn into THE defining run for the American Title. Of the night I walked in, defending my title, and won the world title end to end. Of the night I defended two belts in one night and came up short. Of the battles I had to keep my American Title reign intact while seeking the one match I needed to have. Of becoming a double champion again and forming some kind of respect with the one opponent I needed to face.
This was a whole year of my life.
Maybe the defining year of my life.
It doesn’t matter if it’s the smart thing.
It doesn’t matter what tomorrow looks like.
Tonight?
I am still the APW AMERICAN CHAMPION!
Tonight!
I FINALLY have the chance to win back MY World Title.
TONIGHT!
I will LEAVE Alpha Pro Wrestling having never been pinned, knocked out, or forced to submit.
Tomorrow I face a new reality.
Tonight, I’m still the best damn wrestler in this company.
Let’s get it.
The phone was heavy in his hand from the ring.
Isaiah was there with him, having come to Japan to see his final match with APW in person. America was so excited to meet him at the airport, where Isaiah attested he had never spent so long on a flight before. America had smiled and laughed, noting that he had said much the same the first time he’d come over. They went out for dinner at a local ramen spot with English menus that America had eaten at several times over the past week. Then they made it home and into bed. America felt himself drifting toward sleep when the ring woke him.
“America here. Yes…oh…okay. No, I can’t…I’ll be home next week, I can’t make it back before then. Sure. Okay, thank you.”
The call was short. America sat facing the window, looking out into the city lights and wishing for a moment the sunrise weren’t so far away. Isaiah, realizing he wasn’t settling back in, sat up and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. America’s hand moved softly to grip Isaiah’s in a small gesture of comfort.
“Hey. What’s up?” Isaiah asked.
“That was the nurse.” America said. “My mom died.”
Zaigon Carter.
What can I say man? You brought me into this. I’m not ashamed to say that if there hadn’t been a plan for Zaigon Carter to return to the world of professional wrestling, America Jackson never would have arrived. I rode in finding myself unfamiliar and out of my depth and you took me under your wing and taught me the things that my ability and skills from the mat and the cage couldn’t have carried me through alone.
I’m not an idiot. I know you had your own reasons for doing things. You needed an enforcer and I was happy to play that role for you. My bills were paid, but more than that…I knew what my role was. I’d spent so long being the all star, but when you land just shy of Olympics and realize you’ve gone as far as you can with amateur…well, I was and always will be grateful for the direction you gave me. It let me find the footing I needed to become the champion you see before you today.
That’s something you were always afraid of.
I could feel it every time things got a little competitive. You needed that glory and the shine and the attention. Chalk it up to daddy issues that make mine look easy by comparison, but the only thing in the whole damn world you wanted was the spotlight and that suited me just fine at first. You’d go out and dance around and grandstand while I’d go out and put in the work to make sure we’d keep on winning. As long as that lasted, we’d get along great. After all, even when we didn’t want the same things, what we wanted was compatible enough to keep it rolling for a while.
Then I got that shot at the World Title and I thought “What if?”
What if the name America Jackson didn’t need Zaigon Carter beside it to be great?
What if I could make my own name and in doing so, secure my own future?
What if everything I wanted could be in my own hands?
That was the question that screwed it all up, really. I saw it when you left APW. You had seen that I wouldn’t sit around playing the sidekick anymore and thought that maybe greener pastures would work out better. As long as we went to AW, I could go back to being your loyal little sidekick and you could take the belt associated with a title that was no longer yours and we’d just never talk about the fact that you knew if it ever came down to you and me with this belt in between us, I’d come out on top.
I get it. It’s business. I stayed loyal to you in AW and when we failed to capture the tag titles and you put me through some glass…that was just business too. You had to give yourself a clean break and if I couldn’t carry you onward to gold, then you had to sell me as the weak link in order to find a new angle to break in. It didn’t work of course. The Zaigon Carter who got beaten out of Full Throttle Wrestling nearly a decade ago never lost the flaws or insecurities that led him there. You thought you could be the brains and that it’d carry you to being the best but that’s not what the game is. This isn’t a business where clever wins.
So you got vicious.
Bravo.
You took Damon to the limit in a match that I honestly thought he’d have you in. I didn’t call that you’d push him to the limit in the same way that I didn’t expect you’d ever show your face here again. Damon and I…we’re fighters. We step up to meet challenges as they rise up against us. But you…you did everything you could to delegitimize challengers before they could actually step in the ring with you and when you finally got a real fight, you ran. So hell, I thought after I pulled the glass from my body that I’d seen the last of you. You got your shot, as long as I never felt the need to get some receipts, it was over.
But now here you are, finding your way into the match I’ve been fighting to get for the better part of half a year now. You wormed your way in, infecting it, just how you like to do. For once your little games has paid off and you get to stand center stage on the final show this company will ever have and in theory even stand a chance at being the last man to hold its biggest titles.
In theory.
Life doesn’t work in theory though.
We make our plans and we think that they’ll all work out for us. Every single opponent I’ve run up against has thought they had it. The formula, the ideas, the spirit to beat me at my own game or force me into theirs enough to take this title from me. Not a single one, of them have ever been able to do it and all for the same reason why you couldn’t come out on top when the two of us were on opposite sides of the ring for the first time.
You think your ideas will save you.
They won’t.
I can outthink you.
I can outfight you.
I can outwrestle you.
The second you hit that ring with me, you’ve already made all your best moves. Every single moment after that, I’m going to show you just what it is that has made me un-fucking-beatable in this company. You brought me to this business, Zaigon, and I will always be appreciative of that. But you didn’t make me the man I am today. I am proud to have become that without you. When we step into the ring one last time?
I’ll show you just what a monster you’ve created.
It was Sakura Season.
The cherry blossom leaves had begun to bloom, leaving beautiful pink petals drifting down around the couple as they walked through the park. They tried to ignore the stares as foreigners out on a date. For America, it all fell somewhat secondary in his mind regardless. The news he got in the phone call followed by the more detailed information provided by email was taking up too much of his thoughts.
They had come in to get her up in the morning and found her cold. Artificial resuscitation had been attempted and failed. Time of death was called as 9:23am although she had certainly been dead longer. All those years lingered in his heart. Years of trying to fight to keep her safe and alive. Years of hoping that one day she would respond to him again. Years spent dreaming of a future that would never come to pass.
“It’s beautiful out here.” America said. It was almost a reflex. A need to fill the air with sound so that the absence in him didn’t radiate outward. Isaiah gave his hand a squeeze of affirmation. “My mom would have loved this. She always liked the colourful plants. Would give my dad hell for lining up nothing but the money makers. She’d always complain that the farm needed more colour.”
“Jax…”
“I thought…I believed that if I kept being the son she remembered, she’d come back to me.” America said. “It’s stupid, but I hoped in my heart that if I could keep the farm going and keep winning and keep things going right just long enough, that she’d come back to me by the end of it. I know now that it’s not…she died a long time ago. All we did was keep the body warm, but I just wish…”
“I’m so sorry.” Isaiah said. “You had to deal with so much on your shoulders. Trying to figure out how to keep a roof over her head, deal with your daddy’s rep, and figure out your own shit on top of that. Here you are though, halfway around the world fighting on just like she would have wanted for you.”
“Who knows what she would have wanted?” America said. “We’ll never get to know what she would have thought of my career or my accomplishments or…us.” Isaiah smiled, gentle and sad at that. “I have lost so much of my life waiting for a future that was never going to happen. It sounds so terrible in my head, but as much as this hurts I also feel…I don’t know, free?”
“Free?” Isaiah asked.
“Like tomorrow can be whatever I want it to be.” America said. “is that…is that wrong?”
“Nah. It’s not wrong at all.” Isaiah said. “Listen, you’re gonna feel how you’re gonna feel. Ain’t nobody who can tell you how you’re meant to handle all this. Your whole world has turned upside down more than anyone’s should by your age. I think you’re owed a little peace. If that comes from choosing your own tomorrow…hell, that’s just fine. Long as I get to spend it with you.”
America kissed him. It was sudden and passionate. When their lips parted, he wore the ghost of a smile.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” America said. “I don’t need forever. As long as I have you…tomorrow will do.”
Damon.
What can I say?
This was inevitable.
Then it wasn’t.
This was the match that would shape our futures.
Then it wasn’t.
This was the clash of titans that could only be settled one on one.
Then it wasn’t.
After months of fighting tooth and nail to end up on the other side of the ring from one another, it seems almost fitting that this should be the end and with some unnecessary baggage dragged along for the ride. It wouldn’t be the final APW show if they didn’t find a way to take what should have been THE defining match of a generation and add a bunch of unnecessary bullshit that makes it less than it could have been.
Still, all things considered we could have been left without the opportunity to lock up at all. And what a tragedy that would have been. The two greatest champions in APW history. Who else could close out this era, really? Jubei took his shot at stepping up to the stage, but it could never have been him. Not really.
There’s always the little disappointments though.
I thought of you as an equal. Someone who couldn’t be conquered except by the absolute best. I thought you wouldn’t let anyone take you out before we got the chance to settle it once and for all. When Zaigon’s hands held that title, I felt disappointment in me. The same disappointment I felt when I watched Jason Ryan send you into exile for months.
I suppose that’s the difference between us. It’s not that our egos are undeserved. We’ve faced some of the best wrestlers in the world and come out on top. You and I have demonstrated a dominance over the rest of this company whose reputation will last far beyond the company itself. Honestly, I’ll also excuse some hubris. After all, I let myself set up a marathon fight that left me one title lighter. I can’t be too critical of a mistake or two made because you were sure you had it.
But…
I never ran away.
I never left this company in the hands of people I was better than. I sure as hell would never have left it with Jason Ryan as World Champion. You could have been there this whole time…we could have had wars one after another for months, Architects vs. the Storm. We called you out and you never came because you let Jason Ryan beat you and then you just…what? Accepted it? Walked off into retirement?
When Zaigon was hustling to get the shot that would eventually become his reign, you were on Twitter just making jokes about how nice it was to sit at home with your husband. I can understand that on a level. Hell, I’m looking at my next steps now and that may just be the path I take. But…on my terms. On my last stand. If Jason fucking Ryan had attacked my family and taken my title, I would be beating on the gates fighting to get another shot at him. Not just…waiting patiently to see if I would be invited back.
When I saw you just walk away like that, I thought to myself “I will never respect him.”
Then you came back. You got your revenge. You won your title. You responded to my callouts and you made it a real fight. I squared up against you and little by little, I saw more of myself in you. I saw that same fighter’s spirit I have. I saw the desire to prove yourself to be the best. I saw a man who I could honestly say would stand in that ring and be my equal.
Against all odds, I respected you.
The Man Who Ran Away.
Still it just sits there in the back of my mind and still it’s the answer as to why I know that when we finally settle this, I’ll be the one to come out of it with my hand raised. You don’t have the guts for it. You never did. You’re a man with all the talent in the world and all the drive, but when it comes down to it…I’m the man who fights through.
I’m the man who kept fighting week in and week out to make APW a place I could be proud to fight in. I did double duty when I needed to, I never asked for a week off, never turned down a challenge. I just kept winning and winning and winning and showing everyone that the best wrestlers in the world could come here. I laid a challenge to the world and I backed it up. I said that I’d be the American Champ until the end of fucking time and I am one day away from fulfilling that promise.
Through it all, while I was fighting tooth and nail to make APW great, you were…what?
Snuggling with your husband?
I like you Damon.
I respect you.
But you’re a man who gives up in the face of an impossible fight.
So I will never be you.
“I do.”
America felt the ring on his finger. He felt Isaiah’s lips touch his as they were announced husband and husband. There was a roar from the crowd, no longer that of wrestling fans across the world, but simply the friends and family of the couple. It had been several years since America’s last match and while he still insisted he was thinking of getting back to it, Isaiah would always call bullshit on him. America knew he was right. He’d fallen out of ring shape and watched as the industry moved on without him.
Later, as the reception carried on America looked over at Isaiah with eyes filled with love. His husband was being graced with the affections of America’s new Mother-in-Law. America had a wistful moment. He thought back to his own mother and for a moment idly wished she could have seen this day. Then he shook his head and grabbed a beer from the bar. As he did, his former partner came to greet him.
“Quite the show. Been a while since you’ve heard a pop like that, huh?” Damon Warrens said, a carbonated water in hand. America smiled.
“Thanks for coming Damon.” America said warmly. “How’s Jaime and the kids?”
“Well, I’ve got Christian babysitting the youngest right now. Someone at your party was slipping DJ alcohol and I would prefer Emi not get the same.” Damon cocked an eyebrow at the situation.
“You can take the frat out of the college…” America laughed. “It’s really good to see you, man.”
“Back at you. And hey…retirement’s suiting you well. Are you somehow more jacked than you were when you were active?” Damon laughed.
“Oh god, don’t get me started. All I’ve been doing is lifting, if I have to stretch too far I’ll tear a quad.”
The two men laughed, a moment of solidarity among many on that night.
“Was it worth it, in the end?” Damon asked. “Walking away after just that one last match?”
Isaiah and his mom started to wave America over for photos. He smiled at them, giving a little wave and turning back to Damon apologetically before walking away. As he went, he turned back and gave him a smile entirely without reservation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about man.
“Nothing ever ends.”
The future is what we make of it.
We can’t know what it’s going to hold for us. Whether it’ll be joy or sadness, mercy or wrath. Time’s arrow marches forward in one direction and all we can do is keep walking along with it, one moment at a time. I’m sure my future will be full of heartbreaks, happiness, and moments big and small which will continue to shape the person I become.
For a long time, I fought for a particular shape of the future.
But then yesterday…
Yesterday, my Mom died.
I thought about bowing out of this match. Heading home early so that I could get things ready that little bit sooner. I thought about how it was a match for titles that won’t be recognized tomorrow, that I was fighting for pride and no one would fault me if I put my family first. I thought about my mom…and I remembered how she looked, coming to see me compete. How she’d get fired up and scream my name when I won. She wouldn’t want me spitting on a year of my life for her sake. She didn’t raise me to quit anything half done.
I am not like either of you.
I will not run from competition.
I will not run from my failures.
Everything I ever did in APW…I’m proud of all of it.
I’m proud of the journey I took.
I’m proud of the battles I fought.
I’m proud of the man I became.
So I will walk out of this match the APW Champion.
The man who never ran away.
The man who never failed it.
More than either of you…
I AM ALPHA PRO WRESTLING.
Then.
Now.
Forever.
America Jackson watched the sunset.
It still calmed him now, much as it did when he was younger. When he thought back to his mother and all the sunsets she had watched before her passing, it gave him a warm feeling in his heart. He held Isaiah’s hand in his, old joints pressing back on him in a way they never had when they first fell in love more than fifty years prior. He still made America feel complete. Blessed even.
Their kids had been by for the weekend, bringing the grandchildren along with them. Blossom had brought her wife Laurel and their kids, the ever-precocious Lisa along with her sullen brother Matthew. Isaac’s wife Marigold was working an overnight at the hospital, so he brought Caleb and Jordy along with him. The two were still inseparable, but found ways to incorporate their cousins into their games.
Once upon a time, America would have loaded them onto the tractor for a ride but his old bones didn’t have as much in them anymore. Instead he found his joy in watching them play. Seeing the joys of youth unfold in his home…it painted over the bad that had happened there a long time ago. Beneath it all, you could still see the scars of the thing if you looked hard enough, but every tomorrow made it heal just a little more.
He kept his gold over the mantle. Isaiah would always roll his eyes, but America still liked to talk about it. His glory days. Maybe not as long as they could have been, maybe not as storied. But still a time that was precious to him. Sometimes he’d sit the grandkids down and show them his old matches. The youngest had to be convinced it was really him. After all, he didn’t have any gray hair at all! Most of them would come around to it being cool, although he suspected Matthew was merely humouring his grandfather. America understood. It was another life where he was another man. A past which built his future.
Looking out at the sunset, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He had found love in the shadow of tragedy and it had made him a better man. He looked back on that time of his life with no small amount of embarrassment, but also carrying a wistfulness reserved only for the past. He had built himself a life and it was good. No matter how many days would come, good or bad, he’d always have Isaiah and he’d always have the sunset. For however many days…
He looked forward to tomorrow.
That’s what it’s all come down to, right?
One last show.
One last fight.
One last match.
It’s weird, man. The stakes feel so strange. Like I’m coming out here looking to fight like hell to decide who will be the last champion and on one level I know that win or lose, tomorrow looks very much the same. I’m gonna pack my bags and fly on home and live my life with or without the gold that I’ve spent the last six months obsessing over packed in with me. The paychecks are going to stop rolling in. I get to decide whether or not I’ll be like every other champ of a dead fed, finding a new challenge and walking on in like I got a ten foot dick before the first bell’s even rung. Or…I could just go home, call it one hell of a career in a single banner year and let my accomplishments stay in the memory of each and every person who was with us along the way.
Not a single part of that changes, win or lose.
No one would fault me coming out short here.
It’s the end of the line, they’d say.
You were looking ahead, they’d say.
There’s always tomorrow, they’d say.
I could almost believe that.
I could almost accept it.
But then I’d think back to the last year of my life. Of every battle that carried me forward. Of the title shot that everyone thought would be an easy defense for a fresh champion which would turn into THE defining run for the American Title. Of the night I walked in, defending my title, and won the world title end to end. Of the night I defended two belts in one night and came up short. Of the battles I had to keep my American Title reign intact while seeking the one match I needed to have. Of becoming a double champion again and forming some kind of respect with the one opponent I needed to face.
This was a whole year of my life.
Maybe the defining year of my life.
It doesn’t matter if it’s the smart thing.
It doesn’t matter what tomorrow looks like.
Tonight?
I am still the APW AMERICAN CHAMPION!
Tonight!
I FINALLY have the chance to win back MY World Title.
TONIGHT!
I will LEAVE Alpha Pro Wrestling having never been pinned, knocked out, or forced to submit.
Tomorrow I face a new reality.
Tonight, I’m still the best damn wrestler in this company.
Let’s get it.
The phone was heavy in his hand from the ring.
Isaiah was there with him, having come to Japan to see his final match with APW in person. America was so excited to meet him at the airport, where Isaiah attested he had never spent so long on a flight before. America had smiled and laughed, noting that he had said much the same the first time he’d come over. They went out for dinner at a local ramen spot with English menus that America had eaten at several times over the past week. Then they made it home and into bed. America felt himself drifting toward sleep when the ring woke him.
“America here. Yes…oh…okay. No, I can’t…I’ll be home next week, I can’t make it back before then. Sure. Okay, thank you.”
The call was short. America sat facing the window, looking out into the city lights and wishing for a moment the sunrise weren’t so far away. Isaiah, realizing he wasn’t settling back in, sat up and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. America’s hand moved softly to grip Isaiah’s in a small gesture of comfort.
“Hey. What’s up?” Isaiah asked.
“That was the nurse.” America said. “My mom died.”
Zaigon Carter.
What can I say man? You brought me into this. I’m not ashamed to say that if there hadn’t been a plan for Zaigon Carter to return to the world of professional wrestling, America Jackson never would have arrived. I rode in finding myself unfamiliar and out of my depth and you took me under your wing and taught me the things that my ability and skills from the mat and the cage couldn’t have carried me through alone.
I’m not an idiot. I know you had your own reasons for doing things. You needed an enforcer and I was happy to play that role for you. My bills were paid, but more than that…I knew what my role was. I’d spent so long being the all star, but when you land just shy of Olympics and realize you’ve gone as far as you can with amateur…well, I was and always will be grateful for the direction you gave me. It let me find the footing I needed to become the champion you see before you today.
That’s something you were always afraid of.
I could feel it every time things got a little competitive. You needed that glory and the shine and the attention. Chalk it up to daddy issues that make mine look easy by comparison, but the only thing in the whole damn world you wanted was the spotlight and that suited me just fine at first. You’d go out and dance around and grandstand while I’d go out and put in the work to make sure we’d keep on winning. As long as that lasted, we’d get along great. After all, even when we didn’t want the same things, what we wanted was compatible enough to keep it rolling for a while.
Then I got that shot at the World Title and I thought “What if?”
What if the name America Jackson didn’t need Zaigon Carter beside it to be great?
What if I could make my own name and in doing so, secure my own future?
What if everything I wanted could be in my own hands?
That was the question that screwed it all up, really. I saw it when you left APW. You had seen that I wouldn’t sit around playing the sidekick anymore and thought that maybe greener pastures would work out better. As long as we went to AW, I could go back to being your loyal little sidekick and you could take the belt associated with a title that was no longer yours and we’d just never talk about the fact that you knew if it ever came down to you and me with this belt in between us, I’d come out on top.
I get it. It’s business. I stayed loyal to you in AW and when we failed to capture the tag titles and you put me through some glass…that was just business too. You had to give yourself a clean break and if I couldn’t carry you onward to gold, then you had to sell me as the weak link in order to find a new angle to break in. It didn’t work of course. The Zaigon Carter who got beaten out of Full Throttle Wrestling nearly a decade ago never lost the flaws or insecurities that led him there. You thought you could be the brains and that it’d carry you to being the best but that’s not what the game is. This isn’t a business where clever wins.
So you got vicious.
Bravo.
You took Damon to the limit in a match that I honestly thought he’d have you in. I didn’t call that you’d push him to the limit in the same way that I didn’t expect you’d ever show your face here again. Damon and I…we’re fighters. We step up to meet challenges as they rise up against us. But you…you did everything you could to delegitimize challengers before they could actually step in the ring with you and when you finally got a real fight, you ran. So hell, I thought after I pulled the glass from my body that I’d seen the last of you. You got your shot, as long as I never felt the need to get some receipts, it was over.
But now here you are, finding your way into the match I’ve been fighting to get for the better part of half a year now. You wormed your way in, infecting it, just how you like to do. For once your little games has paid off and you get to stand center stage on the final show this company will ever have and in theory even stand a chance at being the last man to hold its biggest titles.
In theory.
Life doesn’t work in theory though.
We make our plans and we think that they’ll all work out for us. Every single opponent I’ve run up against has thought they had it. The formula, the ideas, the spirit to beat me at my own game or force me into theirs enough to take this title from me. Not a single one, of them have ever been able to do it and all for the same reason why you couldn’t come out on top when the two of us were on opposite sides of the ring for the first time.
You think your ideas will save you.
They won’t.
I can outthink you.
I can outfight you.
I can outwrestle you.
The second you hit that ring with me, you’ve already made all your best moves. Every single moment after that, I’m going to show you just what it is that has made me un-fucking-beatable in this company. You brought me to this business, Zaigon, and I will always be appreciative of that. But you didn’t make me the man I am today. I am proud to have become that without you. When we step into the ring one last time?
I’ll show you just what a monster you’ve created.
It was Sakura Season.
The cherry blossom leaves had begun to bloom, leaving beautiful pink petals drifting down around the couple as they walked through the park. They tried to ignore the stares as foreigners out on a date. For America, it all fell somewhat secondary in his mind regardless. The news he got in the phone call followed by the more detailed information provided by email was taking up too much of his thoughts.
They had come in to get her up in the morning and found her cold. Artificial resuscitation had been attempted and failed. Time of death was called as 9:23am although she had certainly been dead longer. All those years lingered in his heart. Years of trying to fight to keep her safe and alive. Years of hoping that one day she would respond to him again. Years spent dreaming of a future that would never come to pass.
“It’s beautiful out here.” America said. It was almost a reflex. A need to fill the air with sound so that the absence in him didn’t radiate outward. Isaiah gave his hand a squeeze of affirmation. “My mom would have loved this. She always liked the colourful plants. Would give my dad hell for lining up nothing but the money makers. She’d always complain that the farm needed more colour.”
“Jax…”
“I thought…I believed that if I kept being the son she remembered, she’d come back to me.” America said. “It’s stupid, but I hoped in my heart that if I could keep the farm going and keep winning and keep things going right just long enough, that she’d come back to me by the end of it. I know now that it’s not…she died a long time ago. All we did was keep the body warm, but I just wish…”
“I’m so sorry.” Isaiah said. “You had to deal with so much on your shoulders. Trying to figure out how to keep a roof over her head, deal with your daddy’s rep, and figure out your own shit on top of that. Here you are though, halfway around the world fighting on just like she would have wanted for you.”
“Who knows what she would have wanted?” America said. “We’ll never get to know what she would have thought of my career or my accomplishments or…us.” Isaiah smiled, gentle and sad at that. “I have lost so much of my life waiting for a future that was never going to happen. It sounds so terrible in my head, but as much as this hurts I also feel…I don’t know, free?”
“Free?” Isaiah asked.
“Like tomorrow can be whatever I want it to be.” America said. “is that…is that wrong?”
“Nah. It’s not wrong at all.” Isaiah said. “Listen, you’re gonna feel how you’re gonna feel. Ain’t nobody who can tell you how you’re meant to handle all this. Your whole world has turned upside down more than anyone’s should by your age. I think you’re owed a little peace. If that comes from choosing your own tomorrow…hell, that’s just fine. Long as I get to spend it with you.”
America kissed him. It was sudden and passionate. When their lips parted, he wore the ghost of a smile.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” America said. “I don’t need forever. As long as I have you…tomorrow will do.”
Damon.
What can I say?
This was inevitable.
Then it wasn’t.
This was the match that would shape our futures.
Then it wasn’t.
This was the clash of titans that could only be settled one on one.
Then it wasn’t.
After months of fighting tooth and nail to end up on the other side of the ring from one another, it seems almost fitting that this should be the end and with some unnecessary baggage dragged along for the ride. It wouldn’t be the final APW show if they didn’t find a way to take what should have been THE defining match of a generation and add a bunch of unnecessary bullshit that makes it less than it could have been.
Still, all things considered we could have been left without the opportunity to lock up at all. And what a tragedy that would have been. The two greatest champions in APW history. Who else could close out this era, really? Jubei took his shot at stepping up to the stage, but it could never have been him. Not really.
There’s always the little disappointments though.
I thought of you as an equal. Someone who couldn’t be conquered except by the absolute best. I thought you wouldn’t let anyone take you out before we got the chance to settle it once and for all. When Zaigon’s hands held that title, I felt disappointment in me. The same disappointment I felt when I watched Jason Ryan send you into exile for months.
I suppose that’s the difference between us. It’s not that our egos are undeserved. We’ve faced some of the best wrestlers in the world and come out on top. You and I have demonstrated a dominance over the rest of this company whose reputation will last far beyond the company itself. Honestly, I’ll also excuse some hubris. After all, I let myself set up a marathon fight that left me one title lighter. I can’t be too critical of a mistake or two made because you were sure you had it.
But…
I never ran away.
I never left this company in the hands of people I was better than. I sure as hell would never have left it with Jason Ryan as World Champion. You could have been there this whole time…we could have had wars one after another for months, Architects vs. the Storm. We called you out and you never came because you let Jason Ryan beat you and then you just…what? Accepted it? Walked off into retirement?
When Zaigon was hustling to get the shot that would eventually become his reign, you were on Twitter just making jokes about how nice it was to sit at home with your husband. I can understand that on a level. Hell, I’m looking at my next steps now and that may just be the path I take. But…on my terms. On my last stand. If Jason fucking Ryan had attacked my family and taken my title, I would be beating on the gates fighting to get another shot at him. Not just…waiting patiently to see if I would be invited back.
When I saw you just walk away like that, I thought to myself “I will never respect him.”
Then you came back. You got your revenge. You won your title. You responded to my callouts and you made it a real fight. I squared up against you and little by little, I saw more of myself in you. I saw that same fighter’s spirit I have. I saw the desire to prove yourself to be the best. I saw a man who I could honestly say would stand in that ring and be my equal.
Against all odds, I respected you.
The Man Who Ran Away.
Still it just sits there in the back of my mind and still it’s the answer as to why I know that when we finally settle this, I’ll be the one to come out of it with my hand raised. You don’t have the guts for it. You never did. You’re a man with all the talent in the world and all the drive, but when it comes down to it…I’m the man who fights through.
I’m the man who kept fighting week in and week out to make APW a place I could be proud to fight in. I did double duty when I needed to, I never asked for a week off, never turned down a challenge. I just kept winning and winning and winning and showing everyone that the best wrestlers in the world could come here. I laid a challenge to the world and I backed it up. I said that I’d be the American Champ until the end of fucking time and I am one day away from fulfilling that promise.
Through it all, while I was fighting tooth and nail to make APW great, you were…what?
Snuggling with your husband?
I like you Damon.
I respect you.
But you’re a man who gives up in the face of an impossible fight.
So I will never be you.
“I do.”
America felt the ring on his finger. He felt Isaiah’s lips touch his as they were announced husband and husband. There was a roar from the crowd, no longer that of wrestling fans across the world, but simply the friends and family of the couple. It had been several years since America’s last match and while he still insisted he was thinking of getting back to it, Isaiah would always call bullshit on him. America knew he was right. He’d fallen out of ring shape and watched as the industry moved on without him.
Later, as the reception carried on America looked over at Isaiah with eyes filled with love. His husband was being graced with the affections of America’s new Mother-in-Law. America had a wistful moment. He thought back to his own mother and for a moment idly wished she could have seen this day. Then he shook his head and grabbed a beer from the bar. As he did, his former partner came to greet him.
“Quite the show. Been a while since you’ve heard a pop like that, huh?” Damon Warrens said, a carbonated water in hand. America smiled.
“Thanks for coming Damon.” America said warmly. “How’s Jaime and the kids?”
“Well, I’ve got Christian babysitting the youngest right now. Someone at your party was slipping DJ alcohol and I would prefer Emi not get the same.” Damon cocked an eyebrow at the situation.
“You can take the frat out of the college…” America laughed. “It’s really good to see you, man.”
“Back at you. And hey…retirement’s suiting you well. Are you somehow more jacked than you were when you were active?” Damon laughed.
“Oh god, don’t get me started. All I’ve been doing is lifting, if I have to stretch too far I’ll tear a quad.”
The two men laughed, a moment of solidarity among many on that night.
“Was it worth it, in the end?” Damon asked. “Walking away after just that one last match?”
Isaiah and his mom started to wave America over for photos. He smiled at them, giving a little wave and turning back to Damon apologetically before walking away. As he went, he turned back and gave him a smile entirely without reservation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about man.
“Nothing ever ends.”
The future is what we make of it.
We can’t know what it’s going to hold for us. Whether it’ll be joy or sadness, mercy or wrath. Time’s arrow marches forward in one direction and all we can do is keep walking along with it, one moment at a time. I’m sure my future will be full of heartbreaks, happiness, and moments big and small which will continue to shape the person I become.
For a long time, I fought for a particular shape of the future.
But then yesterday…
Yesterday, my Mom died.
I thought about bowing out of this match. Heading home early so that I could get things ready that little bit sooner. I thought about how it was a match for titles that won’t be recognized tomorrow, that I was fighting for pride and no one would fault me if I put my family first. I thought about my mom…and I remembered how she looked, coming to see me compete. How she’d get fired up and scream my name when I won. She wouldn’t want me spitting on a year of my life for her sake. She didn’t raise me to quit anything half done.
I am not like either of you.
I will not run from competition.
I will not run from my failures.
Everything I ever did in APW…I’m proud of all of it.
I’m proud of the journey I took.
I’m proud of the battles I fought.
I’m proud of the man I became.
So I will walk out of this match the APW Champion.
The man who never ran away.
The man who never failed it.
More than either of you…
I AM ALPHA PRO WRESTLING.
Then.
Now.
Forever.
America Jackson watched the sunset.
It still calmed him now, much as it did when he was younger. When he thought back to his mother and all the sunsets she had watched before her passing, it gave him a warm feeling in his heart. He held Isaiah’s hand in his, old joints pressing back on him in a way they never had when they first fell in love more than fifty years prior. He still made America feel complete. Blessed even.
Their kids had been by for the weekend, bringing the grandchildren along with them. Blossom had brought her wife Laurel and their kids, the ever-precocious Lisa along with her sullen brother Matthew. Isaac’s wife Marigold was working an overnight at the hospital, so he brought Caleb and Jordy along with him. The two were still inseparable, but found ways to incorporate their cousins into their games.
Once upon a time, America would have loaded them onto the tractor for a ride but his old bones didn’t have as much in them anymore. Instead he found his joy in watching them play. Seeing the joys of youth unfold in his home…it painted over the bad that had happened there a long time ago. Beneath it all, you could still see the scars of the thing if you looked hard enough, but every tomorrow made it heal just a little more.
He kept his gold over the mantle. Isaiah would always roll his eyes, but America still liked to talk about it. His glory days. Maybe not as long as they could have been, maybe not as storied. But still a time that was precious to him. Sometimes he’d sit the grandkids down and show them his old matches. The youngest had to be convinced it was really him. After all, he didn’t have any gray hair at all! Most of them would come around to it being cool, although he suspected Matthew was merely humouring his grandfather. America understood. It was another life where he was another man. A past which built his future.
Looking out at the sunset, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He had found love in the shadow of tragedy and it had made him a better man. He looked back on that time of his life with no small amount of embarrassment, but also carrying a wistfulness reserved only for the past. He had built himself a life and it was good. No matter how many days would come, good or bad, he’d always have Isaiah and he’d always have the sunset. For however many days…
He looked forward to tomorrow.
