OCTOBER 20, 2022
The roars of the crowd have long since left the Target Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The audience have long-since exited the arena, likely seeking out some Supreme Championship Wrestling after-parties as it’s not every day the global promotion comes to town. But there remains a single locker-room unabandoned, some lights still blaring at full strength. Inside the locker-room, however, sits an elephant. This elephant takes up an inordinate amount of space, creating a tense environment in which none of the occupants say a thing.
Because this locker-room belongs to “The All-Star” Gavin Taylor.
The man sits on the bench, still clad in sweat-covered gear with his eyes affixed to the ground beneath his feet. This was it for him. His golden opportunity. His Trios Tournament contract cash-in. He had sat upon the moment looking for the right opportunity to use it, and this was the night to do it. October 20th. Minneapolis, Minnesota. It was supposed to go down in the annals of history as the night “The All-Star” proved all the doubters wrong. The night that Gavin Taylor finally fulfilled all that potential… all that promise… that he had demonstrated for years, and finally ascend to the very top of the professional wrestling world. It was supposed to be the night that he did what many had tried and failed to do… what some had deemed impossible. He was supposed to go to the ring against, ironically, his one-time Trios partner, his Team SUP ally, Xander Valentine – the SCW World Heavyweight Champion – and finally overcome, lifting the hallowed Platinum World Championship belt above his head. This was the moment.
Except it wasn’t.
Instead, Gavin found himself locked in Fade to Black. Fighting valiantly to escape only seemed to lock him in tighter and, without escape, Gavin submitted. Not by his act, however. For all the time he spent in that maneuver, Gavin simply would not give up that day. Except his body had other ideas, submitting for him by way of passing out. The referee was left with no alternative but to the call the match. Any longer in that move and Gavin might have suffered permanent damage. It was the only thing to do… the right thing to do. And although Gavin recognized it was the right thing to do… something any referee would do in the same situation, it still stung. In Gavin’s mind, this was it. He wasn’t getting younger. He wasn’t having Championship matches thrown at him. He felt like all the momentum he had built since the Trios Tournament, including his monumental victory over Syren at that year’s Rise to Greatness, a stunning 30-minute Iron-person match W, was gone. Nothing else mattered. He wasn’t Champion.
In the room with him were the usual suspects, his Agent Ava St. Claire, who always tried to manifest the downs that The All-Star suffered into something for success down the line, and his All-Star Security, Jack and Karl Barker. None of them say anything either – they know better. They had seen Gavin through all sorts of defeats, every kind of setback, but nothing they had witnessed before had ever been like this. No… this was something entirely different. This wasn’t the usual “I’m having a slump, and I’ll get out of it” moment. This was Gavin at his lowest. Speak and they might find themselves without employment. They sit strewn out across the room, all contemplating their own conditions at the moment. But, as it is a public arena, there soon comes a knock at the door.
“Gotta ask you to hurry it up,” an unnamed backstage worker says through the door. “We close up in 30.”
Gavin doesn’t move in acknowledgement, although the heavy sigh escaping his lips indicate that he clearly hears the instruction. Ava moves closer to the door, making a comment through it.
“Thank you,” she says, trying not to raise her voice too much, lest she raise the ire of The All-Star. “We’ll be out soon… I think.”
“I don’t make the rules, Ms. St. Claire,” the worker responds through the door. “If you ain’t out in 30, it’s gonna be costly.”
“Yes, I get that,” Ava responds. “Just don’t lock us in.”
“Fine…” the worker finally says before audibly walking away. Ava listens, sighing herself as she moves next to Gavin, resting her hands on his. “Gavin?”
Gavin doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch. There would have been a time that such hand-to-hand contact would have resulted in a stern talking to… a reminder that Gavin was a married man, some jokes from the Barkers, something other than the absence of activity that The All-Star currently gives. But he is too lost in his own head to respond to any external stimuli.
“Gavin, we have to get going,” she finally says, though her voice breaks as she gets through “going”. Her hands tremble atop of his as she looks to him. “You need to get some sleep. We… we can talk about regrouping in the morning and…”
“No.”
Ava’s heart sinks at the first word to escape Gavin’s mouth since the end of Breakdown… “No”.
“Okay, that’s okay,” she assures him, although her voice trembles in betrayal of her own fear and trepidation. “We can take all the time you need. Regroup in a week… we can regroup in a week and see where you want to go next. We can figure this out, Gavin. We can get you back where you need to be and…”
Gavin moves his hands away from Ava’s, reaching to his side to grab his bags although he still hasn’t begun to change out of his gear. Lobbing the duffel bag over his shoulder, Gavin begins to walk to the door. Jack and Karl stand up to follow him, but Gavin stops.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice low. “Not now.”
“But boss…” Jack says, his voice toned as if he was a sad puppy dog. Gavin still doesn’t turn – he hasn’t actually looked at his entourage.
“Not… now,” Gavin responds again, putting extra emphasis on each word. The Barkers back off as Ava steps forward, looking to set plans – she was always such a good agent.
“We’ll regroup next week?” she asks, this time with a bit more confidence and hopefulness in her voice. Gavin doesn’t respond, instead opening the door and passing through. He closes it behind him as he goes, his footsteps audibly getting farther and farther away. Ava and the Barkers remain in the locker-room without him.
“So what now?” Karl asks. Ava can only shake her head as she stands with the A.S.S.
“I wish I knew,” she responds. But Ava doesn’t have any Earthly idea what was going through Gavin’s mind. And how could she, really? Ava and the Barkers are left wondering what comes next.
Gavin, on the other hand, simply kept walking. The words from Ava St. Claire rang through his head as he closed the door behind him, walking away from his agent and employed, gimmick-specific security. If he was being honest – a concept that Gavin wasn’t entirely familiar with in the past decade-plus of his wrestling career – Gavin didn’t know the answer to that question… if that even was meant as a question at all. “What was next”? Yes… what was next for the All-Star. He couldn’t say. Instead, all he could think about was tomorrow. Getting on the plane. Going to Hollywood, where his wife Madison was filming another movie. At least she had been able to parlay her wrestling career into a successful venture. He had become so consumed with the industry itself, with becoming a Champion, that he possibly gave up a number of opportunities to grow beyond it.
And after falling to Xander Valentine, his old friend, his Team SUP partner, his white whale… well, let’s just say that Gavin was beginning to second-guess a number of his decisions.
He began thinking about the past year… about everything he had been through since that Trios Tournament began. There was once upon a time where he was one of the most manipulative men in the business. Hell, he almost convinced himself he had turned once, earning Championships in the old Independent Wrestling Cartel from it. But for all his cred, he felt blunted recently, to the point where he was outplayed by Ravyn “Not My Cousin” Taylor.
And now that he was second-guessing things, he began to wonder if there really was an Uncle Roy… No, that one was just silly.
As he gets to his car in the parking garage, Gavin steps in. Starting the ignition and going into drive, he exits the area, not once looking back
MAY 23, 2023
The halls of St. Claire Management Ltd. are unusually active or a Tuesday. Generally, talent meetings aren’t scheduled for the day after a long weekend. Talents tend to find themselves outside of an appropriate physical state necessary to facilitate meaningful conversation. So, the buzz around the hallways are quite… unsettling.
Ava St. Claire’s office, however, is not the epicenter of the commotion. No – the founder and namesake of St. Claire Management has taken a largely hands-off approach when dealing with the agents in her employ and the talent they represent. This has been especially true since October, when the talent she represented personally decided to walk out of the arena following a soul-crushing defeat, not to be heard from since. Her office, as it is, remains dark and empty, with Ava being up at the cottage for an extended long weekend. But a door to the room opens slowly, and the sound of muffled voices can be heard.
“In here,” a clearly female voice says. A light turns on, with Ava’s assistant Violet Appleby at the switch. A previously unidentified male security guard stands with her, looking around as though this was the most mischief he had ever participated in in his entire life. “We should be able to find some kind of address to Ms. St. Claire’s cottage.”
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” the guard says as he pokes his head back through the door. “Ms. St. Claire is very particular about her privacy. You could be costing both of us our jobs.”
Violet turns her head to the guard with a knowing smirk. “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it’s not going to work. You wouldn’t have said “yes” if you didn’t appreciate the risks involved.”
“True,” he responds with a conciliatory nod. “It’s just that…”
““It’s just that” nothing,” she responds. “You and I both know that she’s been lost without a purpose, and the only thing that she felt gave her purpose was travelling around with that stubborn man and his merry band of idiots.”
“So…” the guard begins, trying to piece together the plan.
“So… we’re going to drive to her cottage and convince her to track that man down so she can get that fire back in her eyes,” Violet finishes the sentence, explaining her idea. The guard nods, though it’s evident from his eyes that he doesn’t quite get it. “She won’t do it herself. She’ll say she respects his wishes too much to do that. So she needs to be pushed to it. It’s the only way.”
Violet begins to rummage through a drawer, looking for a sign – a piece of paper, an old receipt. Anything of note. She rummaged and rustled through the desk until finally she discovered an address book. “Ah ha!” Violet exclaimed excitedly. “Let’s go!”
As Violet went to the door, grabbing the guard’s wrist as she passes, he plants his feet, pulling her back. “Go where?” he asked. Violet incredulously lifts up the address book.
“I’ve got an address for an off-grid cottage. This is definitely where Ava has been hiding out.”
She tries to walk again. His feet remain planted. “Come on, Anderson,” Violet basically pleads with the guard. “We only have one chance at this. You know just as well as I do that since October, she’s been left out in the dark and hasn’t had a purpose. She’s been listless. She’s lacked motivation. And if she doesn’t do anything, the board cold very well replace her as the head of the company named after her. For Christ’s sake, we can’t let that happen.”
“Why not?” he asks. “Why does saving her job have to be your job? Or my job, for that matter? Let the bitch rot…”
Violet instinctively slaps him across the face, immediately regretting it. “Sorry,” she says conciliatorily. “Reflex?”
“Look… I’ll drive you there, but that’s it,” Anderson the guard relents. Violet excitedly jumps forward and hugs the man. “You find Ava, it’s all on you.”
Violet nods as she eagerly pulls past the guard, holding onto his wrist and pulling her with him.
MAY 24, 2023
The road trip to cottage country was rather uneventful, but even with driving all night, they found that locating the exact cottage listed in Ava St. Claire’s address book was easier said than done. Apparently, this address was not recognized by the most recent GPS update – possibly why Ava had chosen this one – and it took longer than they would admit should have been necessary to find the exact lodging. But at the crack of dawn, Anderson Craft (the guard) and Violet Appleby pulled into the winding driveway of the addressed home. They pull up to the front of the drive, but as the black jeep turns off, Violet is overwhelmed with nerves. She remains in place, only staring a the front door.
“Nervous?” Anderson asks Violet, although he could tell the answer. Violet clutched the address book tighter.
“Am I crazy?” she asks.
“Do you really want me to answer that question?’ Anderson responds. “I mean ‘again’.”
“I’m putting my job… my livelihood on the line, and for what?” she says, shaking her head. “Ava may not even be reachable. She may be happy out here, even. And I’m going to drag her back out of loyalty to someone who isn’t even loyal to her named company?”
“If you “want, I can turn this around,” the guard offers. “We can drive back to Toronto and pretend this road trip never happened. But I think we’ll get halfway back and you’ll start to regret not going in there.”
“What makes you think that?” Violet asks, looking over at him with these big, hopeful eyes. He shrugs.
“You just seem like the type,” he answers. Violet exhales deeply as she nods her head. Clutching the book closer to her chest, she stats to undo her seatbelt.
“You’re right,” she affirms. “Just gotta get my nerves together and…”
Just then, there’s a light tapping at the passenger’s side window. Violet jumps a bit, turning and looking at the source before fainting….
…
…
…
“Violet?” a voice says as she slowly opens her eyes. Her blurred vision obstructs the image of the man standing over her. “There you are…”
“Wha…” Violet rubs her eyes to try and improve her vison, although it isn’t exactly a fruitful endeavor. Looking to the formed body in front of he, she squints. “Gavin?”
As her vision clears up, she sees Gavin Taylor standing in front of her. He’s grown a beard in the time he had been away and has allowed the greys within it to settle despite his still relative youth. But from everything Violet can tell, he’s taken care of himself… at least he hasn’t gotten fat, which would have been Ava’s number one fear. He strides around the sofa like an ethereal being, something from a dream, and holds out a bottle of water.
“Didn’t think you’d recognize me,” he said tongue-firmly in cheek. But despite his charms, Violet was still bewildered and, if she was honest, disoriented. She takes the bottle of water and, opening it, pours a little into her hand to wipe her face. As water spills onto the floor, Gavin tries to straighten the bottle in her hand. “Hey… trying to keep the place clean here.”
“Gavin, what have you been doing here?” she asks the most blatant, obvious question. “Is this your Aaron Rodgers spirit quest?”
Gavin almost appears to be offended by this charge. “That is an insult, Violet,” he remarks. “If anything, Aaron Rodgers is on a Gavin Taylor spirit quest.”
Violet rolls her eyes. Gavin hadn’t lost his charms. But for Gavin, it’s not an expression of his charm. He wrestles internally with what has been going on… an apparent theme for the All-Star over the last seven months.
“But it was just… professional wrestling, man,” Gavin chuckles. “It’s a wild ride, you know? You can ride the highest of highs, stand on top of the world, only to find yourself taken down by an illusion getting into your head. Uncle Roy…”
“I’m sorry?” Violet is clearly confused.
“That was the name of my “uncle” who “died”,” Gavin begins telling the story, disgust and disbelief awash in his voice. Violet takes this story seriously, however.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she blurts out. “I had no ide-“
“For fucks’ sake,” Gavin shakes his head in defense of every fuck. “There was never an Uncle Roy. He was a trope created by Ravyn Taylor to fool Ducky into believing the two of us were related.”
“So who did die?” Violet asks innocently.
“No one died!” Gavin exclaims. “Whose life do you think this is? No… it was just a means to attack me, get into my head, turn Ducky against me, and throw me off before my Trios cash-in. But that’s okay… because I’ve learned a lot these last seven months. I had done a lot of things in my career that I wasn’t proud of, but being away from it has given me the ability to really get to know myself. And you know what? I kind of like who I am. I’ve done things that I had never before dreamt I could do. You see that painting over there?”
Violet looks back to a painting on the wall. “Did you paint that?”
“No,” Gavin answers. “I won it in an auction. I reupholstered that couch you’re sitting on…”
Violet looks at the sofa.
“Yeah, no furniture designer would make a sofa with my old t-shirts, so I had to do it myself,” Gavin reminisced. “I’ve been good. I’ve made peace with who I am and what my place is. I know that I’m not this world-killer, take all comers, generational megastar. I’m The All-Star, and that’s good company.”
“Don’t you miss it?” Violet asks. “The roar of the crowd… the bright lights… the adrenaline… isn’t there something in the business worth the occasional bad night and heartbreak?”
“Wow, when you put it like that…” Gavin’s sarcasm trails off.
“I mean it… your stock as a talent was higher than it had ever been before. You were arguably at your most profitable state. And then you were just gone,” Violet explains. Gavin doesn’t appear to be moved by the business-speak. “Had you kept pushing along…”
“But I couldn’t just keep pushing along, Vi,” Gavin cuts in. “After years and years and years of pushing, I just didn’t have it in my heart anymore! There was always going to be someone else… a Simon Lyman or a Donovan Kayl, a Kennedy Street, or a Willow Wilkes, or an Andre Jordan, or a Xander Valentine. There was always going to be that hurdle that even me, even The All-Star, just couldn’t overcome! And after putting fifteen years of blood, sweat, and more blood into plying to be the absolute best, I just didn’t have it in my heart anymore! Profitability and recognition are great, but I’m a fucking athlete first. Not being able to compete with the best when I was at my best is fucking murder. I left because I had to before the quest to be the best killed me! And there’s nothing the numbers or the lights or the roar of the crowd can do to change that!”
“I didn’t…” Violet was at a loss or words.
“No, because I never talked about it,” Gavin retaliates. “What are we tiger-sharks supposed to do? We can’t afford to be so open with our thoughts and… worse… our feelings.”
“Tiger-sharks?”
“Just go with it,” he says. “If I had spoken about my insecurities and trepidations, what do you suspect would have happened to me? Hell, you saw what happened over a FAKE FUCKING RELATIVE! It’s just… no matter how much talent we have, there’s a mental toll that the business can take… an emotional toll, as well. Those of us who never recognize it can never escape it. Honestly, I needed to get away… truly needed to.”
“So you’re never coming back?” Violet asks earnestly. “Ava needs you… he agency needs you… everyone needs you.”
“No one needs me,” Gavin replies, shaking his head. “I walked away and no one came to look for me. No one called me out. No one even called me. The Agency grew. SCW moved forward without me.”
“Everyone misses you,” Violet clarifies, but again Gavin shakes his head.
“Maybe for a bit, but they got over it,” he says. “They always do. As for coming back? I’m happy now. I’m alive. I train at my leisure, rather than a schedule for a match. Why would I give that up?”
“You at least owe a goodbye,” Anderson Craft says as he walks into the living-room carrying a half-eaten muffin in his hand. “These are great, by the way.”
“Thanks?” Gavin answers, though unsure as to who this stranger is or why he was eating his baking.
“He’s right, Gavin,” Violet agrees. “You never gave SCW a goodbye. You never gave Ava a goodbye. You owe it to everyone to let them know what you’re doing and, at best, that you’re okay… that you haven’t fallen off the edge of the planet and disappeared into a chasm of nothingness.”
Gavin sighs. He looks to Violet, who stands firm and confident, then glances over to Anderson who isn’t really paying attention but still gives a thumbs up when he realizes he’s on a hot seat. Nodding, Gavin agrees.
“Fine,” he says. “You got a camera on you?”
“Always,” Violet smiles, pulling out her phone. Gavin moves over to his chair, also reupholstered with old Gavin Taylor merchandise. Violet uses her hand to count down, and points to Gavin as she hits Record.
[REC.]
Gavin looks to the camera, appearing to be a little bit older and, from the whites in his beard, a little bit wiser as well. His breath is slightly laboured as this is the first time he’s been in front of a camera in seven months. He grins a bit, with a sense of nerves actually coming in his stomach.
“Hi…”
Gavn’s nerves… an uncharacteristic trait for The All-Star, cause him to stumble over his words.
“Wow… I thought this would be easier. I feel that I owe everyone a goodbye message… so here I am. First off, I’m okay. I really am. I’ve spent a lot of time out here in thought an reflection, trying to make sense of Gavin Taylor the man and Gavin Taylor the wrestler, figuring how the two of those could co-exist. And honestly, I’m not sure they can. When I lost the World Championship match back in October, it was like a schism occurred, forever fragmenting those parts of me. My first message, thus, is to Xander Valentine. I don’t want you to blame yourself for this. You were the better man that night. Hell, you’ve always been the better man. That was just something I spent far too much time trying to run away from… until it caught me.”
He gives a half-hearted smile.
“Guess that was always destined to happen. But look, my departure from SCW was building for a long time. It wasn’t losing that match that sent me out… it was more the final straw on the camel’s back. I needed time to really figure out who I was as a man before I could even dream of figuring out my place in the wrestling industry. I’ve… I’ve done therapy the last few months and I’ve been really working on myself because I don’t want to be “that guy” anymore. So second, I want to reach out to Kandis. I truly regret throwing boiling water in your face. If I could go back, I would absolutely not do that.”
Gavin nods his head.”
“Walking away from SCW was the hardest thing I’ve had to do but I know that, for me, it was also the most necessary. Look… we’re just about to come out of a month resting on mental health awareness. If I wasn’t going to address my own health and well-being – physical and mental – then I’d be setting a bad tone for everything else in my life. I don’t want to be one of those guys who gets looked at in his 70s because he laments constantly about the way things were and doesn’t adapt to the way things will become. I do also want to send a message out to Ducky… Pro… Nicole… whoever can get the message across. Tell her that I’m sorry I never got her anything for her birthday, and that I hope to make it up to her this year. I don’t know how yet, but I will.”
Gavin nods his head. This was a point that he was especially confident in.
“Look, at the end of the day, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry with the way things ended. I’m sorry if anyone out there felt there wasn’t any closure with me. But you know what? I didn’t get closure either. I talked a good game, but in the end couldn’t seal the deal, and that’s on me. That’s 100% on me. And if I were to come back, I know I’d be walking into a hornet’s nest that I’m not sure I’d be prepared for…”
Gavin sighs. It’s clear there are some hamster wheels spinning at a breakneck pace in his head, but Gavin tries to shake it and get them out.
“I know that my declaration here comes at a weird time, because this is Taking Hold of the Flame season, right? The lead in to Rise to Greatness. The time where anyone can look at opportunity staring them right in the face and reach out and, if they’re able, take the flame, punch their ticket, and earn their shot at greatness. I know that, for me to make this statement now of all times, probably seems like a bit of a mislead. You’re probably expecting this entire statement to be about how I’m going to march out at the Flame, throw out 39 other competitors and punch MY ticket to Rise to Greatness. You probably think that I’m going to prepare myself for the biggest night of my career… But no… I don’t need to throw out 39 other competitors. I don’t need to capture the Flame to know my worth.”
And in a moment, Gavin Taylor: The Man decides to take a seat, and the glimmer in his eye would suggest that Gavin Taylor: The Wrestler has reared his head. His trademark shit-eating smirk curls upon his lips, even behind the beard of his self-exile,, as recognizable as it has ever been.
“All I need is one. That’s all. I enter Taking Hold of the Flame against 39 other competitors, and as long as I can throw out one, I’ll know in my heart that I’ve still got what it takes to compete at this level. I’ll know that I’ve got what it takes to be the ALL-STAR of SCW! That it… just one. And if that one happens to be the last elimination of the match? Well… I guess you’d know where to find me come Rise to Greatness. I am who I am… man, All-Star, wrestler, Champion-in-waiting. I once game myself a dozen nicknames because I felt it was necessary to best market myself, but at the end of the day, this isn’t a game of marketing. It’s a chess match. It’s a game of skill. It’s a game of luck and opportunity. The opportunity comes at Taking Hold of the Flame. The luck comes from the draw. The skill comes in dealing with whatever obstacles are in front of you. By God, I still have it in me! It’s time I remind the world of exactly who I am! No fancy nicknames… not even “The All-Star”…”
Gavin pushes himself to his feet, and the cell-phone camera from Violet Appleby jerks up to follow him.
“With God as my witness, I am Gavin Taylor! And I will not let myself down again! At Taking Hold of the Flame, you’re going to see The All-Star at his absolute BEST! THAT I can promise you! Now quick, stop recording, send this manifesto to SCW headquarters, and call Ava. We’re getting the gang back together!”
With that, the recording stops.
We don’t know what happened in the hours and days that followed. All we have is this one solitary declaration. That after seven months in isolation, a “spirit quest”, The All-Star was ready to make his stand. The All-Star was ready to come back to civilization and do the one thing that he always knew was deepest in his soul. For Gavin Taylor, it wasn’t a question of what else he could do to make a living outside of wrestling. Gavin needed to reconcile his position with himself. Gavin needed to come to a point where he was comfortable with defeat, but sure with his movements. He needed to reconfigure his expectations. But still, in the heavily combative environment of Taking Hold of the Flame, Gavin was set to do what it took to prove to himself that he still belonged. And to him, that meant throwing out one person.
That’s all.
"The All-Star" Gavin Taylor 