((He'd been on the phone all night with her well into Monday morning...sixish on the west coast. The sky was still pale and dull, the air held a bit of chill to it, and he was shirtless out on his balcony with the phone still pressed to his ear. And he smiles right there because she just said something cute...or intelligent...or witty...or most likely funny. Or perhaps even...he smiles because she can't see him do so right there and then, and that makes him feel comfortable.))

((The camera's there because he'd arranged for it to be there. Although to be fair to Kyle, who made the reservation Saturday at around 2:30 in the PM, one never knows what life may have in store for them an hour much less two-days down the road. He should have been out on the beach by now...catching the early waves, but he hasn't been able to put down the phone. It's been thirty-minutes since they first knocked on his door, and thus far he's managed to ignore them from behind the sliding glass door.))

((It's much like watching a mime.))

((Although luckily the LWF employees great film editors, and as such we're just coming into this thing as he drops the phone away from his ear and shuts the cordless down with the push of a button. The second he does the dopey smile fades from his face, as his eyes find the camera through the glass, and he pulls the sliding door open. The sounds of water front life are feed to us for a moment until the door is shut behind him, and we're once again dropped into the silence of his one room apartment.))

((Placing the phone upon a smallish circular table of glass, he grabs up one of the chairs surrounding it, and spinning it around straddles the chair. His bare chest pushes against the back of the chair as he folds his hands together...))

November: Ya know Kevin...when you're right, you're right, and you my friend are right. Half of what I said last week in your direction I've already forgotten about...because both your career and life do matter very little to me, but...

And you knew there'd be a but...

In this great evolving sport of ours not only am I paid to wrestle, but get this...I'm also paid to run my opponents good name through the mud. There's no ulterior motive as to why I brought up any aspect of your past or career...only that it feels less retarded then say ragging on your ring skills, or your accent, or the way you interview, or the way you... 

((A blank look crosses his face as his eyes go wide. He's been up awhile now. He should have told these guys to go home.))

Sorry...I ran out of "or the way you's". 

((He shakes his head and runs a rough hand back through thick, disheveled, raven, hair...This was a really bad idea. He refocuses on the lens.))

((He could still hear her voice in his head, and that made it hard to be bitter.))

In any matter Kevin I figured you of all people could appreciate the great lengths I'm going to to make this debate of ours for the next couple of weeks something that's not all together similar to anything else we've done so far. Because I don't want to repeat ancient history to you, and I don't want to remind you of "who you're suppose to be, and I don't want to tell you what kind of man I think you are, but damn it it's what the fans want! It's also what I want. Because although I could sit here for the next two-weeks kissing your ass and telling you on what levels I respect you...

Well actually no...after one interview you really can't travel that road any further, but hey!

See although I could do that...it's just not very interesting. I mean...the LWF pays me "good money" to find my opponents flaws. That's what they deem interesting...that's what, how'd they put it, "sells tickets". Of course the veteran of the sport as your are you would best understand this philosophy. Opponent A says some off the wall shit to opponent B...opponent B goes berserk, and blamo we have an honest to goodness fight. Hell it worked for Muhammad Ali, and he was the greatest, and that's just something I don't debate over.

((His chin, carrying some stubble, drops down onto the back of the chair, and he's silent for a moment. Behind him, through the sliding glass doors the sky has started to leave that morning gray for the California blue. It would have been a great day for surfing.))

((He let's out a long sigh interrupting the silence.))

I'll get serious with you now for a moment...if I can...because I'm somewhat tired and I'm feeling rather detached at the moment, but I'll try because there's a part of me that respects you. But don't think for a moment that respect indicates niceties. You respected, and maybe still do respect Twilight, and yet very few kind words were exchanged between the two of you. Save for you throwing that word respect around. Still in this sport all respect means is that there's a general fear of your wit and in ring abilities. I know all about the latter...I'm two and oh against you at this point, and so I have no choice but to respect you on that level. Your better then me...that's obvious. So why not admit it, but even with that knowledge at hand...I can't just roll over and play dead. That's why I attacked you Friday night. That's why I attack your character. That's why I poke and prod at you ever chance I get...because at some point I'll find the right trigger and set you off.

And yeah I feel okay relaying my game plan to you...I really do. Because the intent remains the same. Make Merrix care in a way that he can't dispute. To my knowledge, and again I'm not a big history buff, this sport only became personal to you once or twice. Greg Eskridge and Vice. I won't get into the why...because I really don't know why, but it seems these two names invoke more true emotion from you then do the names Riley, Angel, and Shawny T-light.

So the question begs to be asked, "Why set Merrix off?" And that's simple really, and again I feel comfortable doing this because the intent remains the same. Angry wrestlers are sloppy wrestlers. And for me to win...you need to be off your game. It's A B logic. It's doubtful I'll find that trigger this time around...or maybe event he next time around because in your tenure within this sport you've emotionally separated yourself even further from this sport. An attack on your character, an attack on your body, a heinous act upon a friend...no longer incite rage from you. You just become really bothered by it all and lash out with a bitter tongue. Then you go tot he ring...knock some heads together, and call it good for another week.

You're mechanical Merrix...more so then say Collins, and so I need to find that old Merrix that cared, that had something to prove, that would make the mistake of becoming too involved. I will torment you relentlessly. I will attack every aspect of you in a way that's slightly more involved what you've grown use to. I will because it's what I'm paid to do. I will because Shawn and Jeffery wish they could. I will because you deserve better then what Attict and Riley are shoveling you, and to be quite honest...I'm the only one with the ability to knock you down. Not just trip you up as the previously mentioned have.

Just try to remember through all of this, and this may be your one saving grace if you do, none of this is personal. How could it be? I don't even know you. I just need to beat you.

'night   

((Normally there would be a wink at the end of that, but if he closed one eye right now the other would fall as well. So instead he picks up the phone again. Maybe she'll still be awake. His fingers start to punch the numbers before he's even made up his mind.))

((Because he's not in control anymore. That feeling in the pit of his stomach is now. The way the hairs stand up on the back of his neck now dictates the cost of his phone bill. He didn't see her at first...she dwelled for so long in a world and a shadow that he never even once tried to understand or look into. How he could have missed her though is beyond him...she brightens a room without words.))

((The receiver found it's way to his ear, and he waited the longest three-rings of the last thee-days. He considered hanging up right after the last ring, but she took that option away from him. He speaks...))

Hi. 

((He smiles...))

((black...))