Waiting in the Weeds

“Wouldn’t be Culture Shock without the big spectacle would it?”

“Throw the roster into a big pot and fire up the burner. See who can take the heat, and who gets cooked.”

“This’ll be my fourth one of these. Survivor. The Murder Rumble. War Games. Now, Manhunt.”

“Normally, I try to act with some sense of humility. But there’s a time and place to be humble, and this ain’t it. So in the words of a fellow Hoosier…”

“Which one of you motherfuckers is comin’ in second?”

# # #

March 2, 2025. Osaka, Japan. The end of the King’s Winter tour in Bang! Pro Wrestling.

The match results on RingDispatch.com read:

“Big Iron” Gorou Ichikawa d. Jennifer Colton @ 6:15 by pinfall after the Joker’s Wild (Canadian backbreaker rack rolled into a knee strike)

But they didn’t tell the whole story.

There was no mention of the medical issue that forced Ichikawa’s original opponent out of action, or that Jennifer Colton practically beat down Inoue Doi’s door trying to take the spot. Nor did her complete fearlessness come up, as the youngest active Colton frequently attacked the larger, stronger, more experienced opponent without hesitation. The utter failure of those attacks did make the article, along with her getting busted open about two minutes into the fight.

The deep bow of respect she gave to the Ironhearts’ leader afterwards also went unmentioned, as did her attempt to stagger all the way back to Argyle before collapsing.

She almost made it.

Thanks to the wrestler’s favorite three-piece combo–pain, exhaustion, and blood loss–Jennifer was taken straight to the trainer’s office…so if anyone happened to be looking for her at the show, they knew where she’d be.

Not a whole lot of silver in that lining, but Nate Colton took what he could get.

The moment he saw her stumble, he took off from the makeshift lounge where he’d been watching the show and sprinted toward the trainer’s room, his VIP badge trailing behind him.

Maybe she didn’t want to see him. Hell, no “maybe” about it–he’d been stonewalled by everyone from Claire Merci to Roosevelt Black. Nate only got in by signing up for the Generalissimo’s e-mail list and making a generous donation to the Save the Birdmen fund.

So no, she would not be welcoming his presence, especially not after an ass kicking and before medical attention.

Well, that’s just tough shit for her. I get to put myself first once in a while.

He arrived just in time to her limp into the trainer’s room, leaning heavily on two medics. Before he could follow, the door closed on him.

“Fuck!” Nate muttered, and gave the door three heavy knocks. One of the medics opened the door, doing his best to block the New Diamond’s attempted entrance.

“Hey, just…one second, okay? That’s my sister, my name is–”

“I know who you are, Mr. Colton,” the medic replied. “Let us do our job.” He tried to shove the door closed on Nate; easier said than done when the pushee is

“You all right, Jen?”

“Dunno. How many fingers am I holding up?” She raised her hand, showing off the exact finger he expected.

Yeah, she’s fine.

Nate’s lip curled into a half-smile, and he backed away from the exasperated medic. “I’ll be here if you need anything!” he shouted, just as the door slammed in his face.

“Great, can you grab me a pitcher of Fuck Off Juice? I think they keep it outside!”

“Ha!”

Nate leaned against the wall on the other side, feeling most of the concern wash away. That insult was the best news he’d had in ages. Not only was his sister okay–of course she is; she’s tough as hell and has been in way worse fights than that–but after three months of the silent treatment, she was finally willing to talk to him.

Good thing too, because he had plenty to say.

We can start with how dumb it was to sign with Bang! on a whim without telling anyone and then move on to how we could really use your help with Blake’s training ‘cause I’m on the other side of the world too and mom and dad’s anniversary is this summer are you really gonna miss it and hey if we’ve got time maybe I can tell you that things don’t taste right anymore and I’ve got new nightmares to go along with the old ones and how every time I hear that colossal motherfucker talk I want to shoot him or myself in the head and I ain’t real picky about which and how fucked up is it that you cut me out of your life over something that I was right about, God dammit

Hmm.

Maybe best not to dump all that on her at once.

So, he refined. Reworked. The intrusive thoughts could wait. So could the nightmares about being devoured by his ex-girlfriend, which still happened with alarming regularity. Maybe some of this could be sorted before they talked, and the guilt trip could go from a two-week cruise to an hour at the grocery store. If he organized his thoughts, he might not get lost in them.

Nate neared the middle of his sixth or seventh draft when the trainer’s door opened again. He may not have lost himself, but he definitely lost track of time.

“Hey.”

The greeting from the doorway was soft, almost meek. Very unlike Jennifer, and enough to shock Nate out of his giving his big lecture that he’d rehearsed six and a half times.

“Hey,” he said back.

She stared at him, almost expressionless, stitches marking her forehead like she was Frankenstein’s kid sister instead of his own.

She certainly didn’t look the same as before. Along with the bruises, bandages and stitches, her face carried a weariness that wasn’t there two months ago.

Or maybe it was, and I didn’t look for it

Nate could see it now…and recognized it immediately.

Their profession was full of people who looked tough, and just as full of people who acted tough. The number of people who actually were tough? Much, much lower.

Jennifer Colton was, and had always been, one of that number. From her first day in training, she had talked a big game and backed it up every step of the way. She never shied away from a hit, never showed fear. Every ounce of shit sent her way, she gave right back.

Being that tough…it’s draining. It means giving of yourself over and over, because you’re surrounded by people who only know how to take. Until you’ve got nothing left. Until you’re just…hollow.

Nate knew the feeling. He’d been on the edge of that same chasm for a while now. He wasn’t sure how much left to give.

But whatever he had, Jennifer needed it now.

I’m still upset with you. There’s a lot of shit we need to sort out.

But now ain’t the time.

“It’s…good to see you, Jen,” he said.

“You too,” Jenny replied, as softly as before.

“And…I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” She heard his words, but obviously didn’t listen to them.

“I mean that,” Nate said. “You took a big risk. You could have followed me into PRIME, or the lads into SHOOT, or gone back and worked for Dad. Instead, you picked a place on the other side of the world, where we can’t help you…and you’ve been making it work, all on your own.”

“Yeah, I’m really ‘making it work,’” she snapped, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Just got my shit rocked by a huge Japanese cowboy.”

Still got some fight in you, then. Good.

“The wins will come. Like Dad says, you gotta focus on the process–”

“--not the product,” she finished, rolling her eyes like she always did at Jake’s little phrases.

“The old man’s not wrong. Anyway, you’re doing the hardest part right now. Jumping straight from the kiddie pool to a deep end that’s full of sharks. Well…one shark. And a bicycle.”

“OH MY GOD FUCK THAT BICYCLE!”

“Right?! Point is, you’ve been playing this shit on hard mode. Foreign country, don’t speak the language, no support, and the worst wrestlers are still miles better than anything Missouri Valley had to offer. I know it sucks right now…but you’ll figure it out, and when you do, you’re going to blow their minds.”

Jennifer drew her lips together and nodded; Nate hoped it meant that his words got through to her, even if only a little. As long as it gave her the strength for whatever came next.

“Thanks, bro. I…gotta go. Left my jacket ringside.”

“Yeah, better get that. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And if you–”

Jennifer closed the gap in an instant, throwing her arms around her brother’s torso and nearly squeezing the life out of him.

His hunch was right; the speech gave her the strength to do what she needed.

And what she needed most of all…was to be weak.

Jennifer burst into tears; something Nate could only remember happening a handful of times.

“I fucked up, Nate.”

And even more rarely, admitted fault.

“I fucked up so bad…”

# # #

“Anyone who doesn’t think I’m the man to beat ain’t paying attention.”

“Look at the people on top here. The real heavy hitters.”

“Ivan, with his Army.”

“Jiles, with his Bandits.”

“Daytona, with his Whoresmen.”

“Farthington, Hayes, and the French dickhead. All stuck tight together like a pack of murderous theater kids.”

“And me.”

“No managers, no stooges, no bullshit.”

“Just. Me.”

“Alone.”

“Over the years, I’ve heard you all tell me that I’m doing it wrong. That I’ll never make it to the top without cheating, screwing people over, or trying to cripple someone in every fight.”

“But here I am. One of the best wrestlers in the world’s top promotion. I don’t like to rest on my accomplishments, but most of you would trade yours for mine in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t think I’m the one doing it wrong.”

“Truth is, I’m as good in the ring as anyone and a damn sight better than most. I’ve beaten guys who went on to get immediate title shots, because losing to me is as good as beating anyone else.”

“I don’t need to bear the standard. I set the standard…and time and again, I have raised it.”

“All by being myself, and doing things my way. I am who I am, and I cannot–I will not–be anything else.”

“Keep that in mind. For all your tricks, your lies, your tantrums, your cheap shots and shortcuts, your schemes and armies…just remember that it takes all of that for you to reach my level.”

“And for most of you…it’s still nowhere near enough.”

# # #

Nate looked at the picture on his sister’s phone.

It came from one of her many social media feeds, and featured her boyfriend for most of the last year, Trece Vickers. Putting his best face out there for the world.

He’s all right but he’s no wait where did that thought come from

There, on his arm, was Jessica Blaylock–known to the wrestling world as Jezebel Jinx. Jennifer’s classmate at the Academy, her fellow Belmont Queen.

Her best friend.

“Jesus,” he muttered. He put the device face-down on the table and turned toward his sister, who hadn’t moved since they arrived at her hotel. Still cross-legged on the bed, head hung and fully obscured by her favorite hoodie. One of its rabbit ears drooped sadly in front of her face; the other lolled off to the side.

“How long ago?”

“Two weeks. But that’s for putting stuff on Insta. They probably started hooking up as soon as I left.”

“You don’t know that.” Probably waited a month, he thought, but pushed it from his mind. It was Unhelpful, and couldn’t be allowed to linger.

Instead, he went for the first option from the traditional Big Brother playbook.

“You want me to beat the shit out of him?”

“Yes. No!” Jennifer buried her head in the sleeves of her hoodie. “I don’t know…”

Nate felt relieved that family-driven vengeance was off the table. I’d have done it, but I’d feel like a douche the whole time

Besides, he’s not the only asshole here

Also Unhelpful. That one got pushed down the hole with the others, to be dealt with later.

“I guess I hoped he’d…wait for me? God, I’m so fucking stupid…” Shame turned her face bright red, and she tried to bury it in her hands.

You know, when I fucked up like this y’all forced me to wear the clown suit and do the Big Dummy Dance

Into. The. Hole.

He did feel bad for her. Heartbreak always sucks, and Jennifer–usually the breaker, not the breakee–wasn’t used to it. But it was hard to build sympathy for her, considering all the things she had to say about Skye Reeves.

She’s mostly right, but still

Another for the hole…which was filling up quicker than it used to.

“I think…” He paused, choosing his words with extra care. “I think it’s best if you keep your distance for a while. Don’t look at their feeds; unfollow them if you have to. Let this lie until you get back to the States, and then have that conversation.”

“But that won’t be until the end of the year! I’m pissed at them now!”

Don’t you fucking start with me

Nope, that was destined for the hole too.

“Don’t you f–”

SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK SHIT

Nate clamped his jaw closed, hoping to choke back the words before they came out, and bit his tongue in the process. The pain was enough to derail the train, though it did get a strange look from Jennifer. It was the first time she’d looked up in ten minutes, so hey, progress.

“What was that?”

“Don’t you…feel…like we should cut Benny in on this conversation?” Nate asked, desperately tamping down his true feelings like they were trash in an already overflowing can. All the thoughts he was going to deal with “later.” Well, “later” needed to get off its ass, now.

“He’ll just tell me to hook up with both of them. That’s his solution for everything.”

“You…”

should learn how to solve your own fucking problems and not expect ME to fix everything

“...are not wrong.”

Sort your shit Nathan or she’ll never talk to you again

“Anyway,” Nate continued. “Give it some time, feel your feelings…but be ready to walk away if it starts to make you crazy.”

“Like you with that bitch ex of yours?”

I take it all back you are doing the Extended Version of the Big Dummy Dance, ALL FIVE VERSES

NO

God dammit, Nathan, this is what you DO, this is what you are FOR, pack it up, pick it up, and get moving

He pressed down even harder, the fury in his mind coming out as a half-hearted middle finger. Jenny snickered, and Nate was able to fake a smile at that.

As long as one of us is having a good time

The rest of it? That all got pressed down as far as it would go, into a small brick that fit in easily with all the rest of his burdens.

The guilt over what happened to Paxton Ray.

His continued obsession with Skye Reeves. How the feelings were turning sour, but no less intense.

Blake…in general. How useless he felt on the other side of the planet, when his baby brother needed him most.

And now, being expected to help when he was so desperate for it himself.

He’d get a few drinks, scream in the shower for a while, and it would all be fine.

It’s fine.

It’s fine.

He heard a sniffle from the bed, and then the heavy blow into a tissue. Jennifer was finally starting to compose herself.

“Maybe we should talk about something else.”

Thank God and Jesus and Rezin and Larry and Vivica Fox

“Like, what the hell are we gonna do with Blake?”

Convince him to go back to college ‘cause he’s making a huge fucking mistake

That was a thought he wanted to voice…but different words came out instead.

“I think we need to back his play here. No matter what we think of his decision…it is his decision, and we should respect that.”

What? Fuck! No! That’s not what

“Yeah, but…it’s Blake. They’ll eat him alive out there.”

They won’t even have to chew

Again, his mouth betrayed him, in the same way it had helped only minutes ago.

“Dad’s got a good plan in place…we’re going to bring him along slowly, focus on getting him caught up, then start booking him early next year. That should be enough time to get him ready for the Belmont.”

Oh, fuck me! That’s not what I meant at all!

But his real thoughts, the ones he wanted to say…those were squished down into the brick. He couldn’t get to those without letting them all loose…and he couldn’t risk that.

“You ask me, I think he’s still fucked up from…what happened.”

He absolutely is so am I and so are you and Benny and Mom and

“I get it, Jen. But whatever the reason, he made the call. If he needs help, we help him. Whatever he needs, however we can.”

“Okay,” Jenny replied, obviously not convinced. “I kinda think Mom’s right about him, though. If any of us shouldn’t be in the business…”

I hate to say it, but

He didn’t say it.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t dare.

Nate just shrugged, and let his sister’s doubt hang in the air between them.

Finally, something forced its way through his series of mental blocks–a poorly stifled yawn. “Well, I s’pose.” While he stood up, Jennifer scrambled off the bed to give him another hug.

“Thanks again, bro.”

“Any time, sis.”

“And…thanks for not being a dick about stuff. You had the right, but…thanks.”

Let’s just keep that brick right where it is for now

“No problem. See you later, Jenny Rabbit.”

“Don’t call me that. You’re not Grandpa Dave.”

Nate chuckled on his way out. As the door closed, the emotions he’d been keeping in check finally started to let loose.

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF–

NOPE

Nope

Better hold on at least until the elevator

By some minor miracle, he didn’t have to wait long after pressing the call button. Nate entered, selected the Lobby, and closed the doors.

“--FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKK!!”

He half-collapsed against the back wall, done in by the cathartic yawp. Every intrusive thought, rogue emotion, and stray impulse he’d ignored for the last two hours flooded back into his heart, making his legs even weaker.

Thank God no one’s in this elevator; it’d be like the airport bathroom in Sydney all over again

How fucked is this, I got what I wanted and now I feel worse

I know I’m supposed to handle everything but I can’t keep doing this, I just can’t

Just once, one goddamn time, I’d like some help, is that too much to ask

Maybe if I get my ass kicked first, it worked for Jenny

…

…

…

Fuck it, why not?

I’ve had worse ideas

# # #

“Wanna prove me wrong?”

“Good. I’ll see you in Tokyo.”

“I plan on being front and center for the whole hour; anyone who wants a shot can come and take one. When it’s my turn in the spotlight…I won’t hide. I won’t run. I won’t back down an inch.”

“Maybe one of you will get lucky, and you’ll beat the New Diamond at Manhunt.”

“But none of you–one at a time or all together–are strong enough to break him.”

“In the end, I plan on finishing the match just like I start it. Still standing.”

“Still standing alone.”