The Warrior and The Wren, No. 37

Chronicle 37

“The Gate”

Eldred's phone rang.

He barely looked at it.

The new government phone had been ringing constantly since Unity registered the number.

Officials.

Journalists.

Aetherians.

Diplomats.

People asking for appointments.

People asking for money.

People asking whether they still had jobs.

People asking questions Eldred did not know how to answer.

The novelty had faded quickly.

He glanced at the screen.

Then froze.

His eyes widened.

No.

He stared harder.

The name remained.

PETRAEUS

Eldred slowly sat straighter.

He had saved the number.

Of course he had.

The moment the Unity application revealed the official contact information for the Roman Imperial Secretariat, Eldred had immediately created a contact.

Not because he expected Petraeus to personally call him.

That possibility had seemed ridiculous.

He had simply thought—

What if?

Now...

Apparently...

What if.

Eldred stared at the ringing phone.

Elara was gone.

She had left the Unity complex nearly an hour earlier for an interview.

Of course.

Of course the Roman Emperor called while the Queen was away.

The phone continued ringing.

Eldred swallowed.

Then answered.

"Hello?"

Immediately-

Wrong.

Far too casual.

He straightened.

"Royal Chancellery of Aetheria."

Better.

Maybe.

A man's voice answered.

"Mr. Eldred?"

Eldred's entire body stiffened.

"Yes."

"This is Petraeus."

Silence.

Eldred knew that.

Obviously.

The screen had said Petraeus.

Still...

Hearing it was different.

"Oh."

Fantastic.

Excellent diplomacy.

Oh.

Petraeus laughed.

That somehow made everything worse.

Eldred tried again.

"Your Imperial Majesty."

"That sounds considerably better than 'oh.'"

Eldred closed his eyes.

"Sorry."

"No."

Petraeus sounded amused.

"Don't apologize."

Eldred rubbed his forehead.

"I had a better opening prepared."

"You prepared an opening?"

"Not specifically."

"Then it wasn't prepared."

Eldred laughed nervously.

Petraeus joined him.

"Relax."

"I'm trying."

"Poorly."

"Very."

Another laugh.

Then Petraeus said-

"It's all right."

A pause.

"You can let your little fanboy out."

Eldred stared.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Very."

Eldred leaned back in his chair.

Some of the tension disappeared.

"Fine."

He smiled.

"It really is an honour to speak with you."

"Thank you."

"I've imagined this."

Petraeus laughed.

"You've imagined speaking to me?"

"Many times."

"Should I be worried?"

"No."

Eldred immediately reconsidered.

"...Probably not."

"Comforting."

Eldred smiled.

"I mean..."

He searched for the words.

"When you're young, you imagine meeting important people."

"Kings."

"Presidents."

"Emperors."

"You imagine saying something intelligent."

"Memorable."

"Something worthy of the occasion."

Petraeus waited.

Eldred looked toward the phone.

"...and then the Emperor actually calls..."

"...and you say 'oh.'"

Petraeus laughed loudly.

"Reality rarely respects rehearsal."

Eldred smiled.

"I've noticed."

"Good."

Petraeus' tone changed.

Not colder.

Simply-

Business.

"So."

Eldred straightened instinctively.

"Your message."

"Yes."

"The summit."

"Yes."

Petraeus paused.

"You want Rome to host it."

"Elara does."

"Here in Ercolanum?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Eldred had expected that question.

At least...

He thought he had.

"Because we're already here."

Petraeus laughed.

"Convenience."

"Partly."

"Only partly?"

Eldred sat straighter.

"No."

"Elara thinks Ercolanum is neutral."

"Aetheris is still recovering."

"Curgarden carries obvious political baggage."

"Bringing everyone here means nobody enters the room surrounded by their own army, their own supporters or their own territorial power."

Petraeus remained quiet.

Good.

Eldred continued.

"...but there is another reason."

"Go ahead."

"Elara wants you involved."

A pause.

"Me personally?"

"Yes."

"As what?"

Eldred hesitated.

"Moderator."

Petraeus was silent.

Eldred immediately wondered if he'd used the wrong word.

"Not..."

He tried again.

"Not someone controlling the process."

"Not someone deciding Aetheria's future."

"...but..."

"If disagreements become serious..."

"If Elara and the provincial representatives start talking past one another..."

"If Curgarden..."

He paused.

"...or anyone else..."

"...believes Elara is simply using the summit to dictate terms..."

Eldred swallowed.

"She believes you could keep everyone talking."

Petraeus remained quiet.

Then-

"Why me?"

Eldred smiled faintly.

"She respects you."

Petraeus laughed softly.

"A lot of countries tell Rome they respect Rome."

"Usually immediately before asking Rome for something."

Eldred froze.

That sounded familiar.

Because...

That was exactly what he was doing.

Petraeus continued.

"I've been told Rome is the cradle of civilization."

"The defender of civilization."

"The guardian of civilization."

"The indispensable partner of civilization."

"The oldest friend of governments I didn't know existed until somebody asked us for money."

Eldred couldn't help himself.

He laughed.

"That's fair."

"It usually is."

Eldred continued.

"Elara genuinely means it."

"I believe she does."

"She grew up studying Rome."

"Roman law."

"Roman government."

"Your history."

"Your modern institutions."

"She thinks..."

Eldred paused.

Then smiled.

"...and these are her words..."

"...that you're the elder statesman."

Petraeus groaned.

"Oh, wonderful."

Eldred laughed.

"She meant it as a compliment."

"I know."

"It still makes me sound ancient."

"You are Emperor of Rome."

"That doesn't mean I personally knew Augustus."

Eldred laughed.

Then immediately remembered who he was speaking to.

Petraeus seemed delighted.

"Good."

"What?"

"You're relaxing."

"A little."

"Keep going."

Eldred nodded.

Then remembered-

Phone.

Right.

"She thinks you can teach her."

Petraeus became quieter.

"Teach her what?"

"How to run a state."

"How to deal with people who disagree with her."

"How to rebuild legitimacy."

"How to know when to compromise."

"When not to."

Eldred looked toward the Unity offices around him.

"She became Queen without ever expecting to become Queen."

"Yesterday she was trying to survive a court case."

"Today she's rebuilding a government."

Petraeus said nothing.

"She doesn't pretend she knows what she's doing."

Eldred smiled.

"Neither do I."

"That part was becoming apparent."

Eldred laughed.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Then Petraeus sighed.

"Mr. Eldred..."

That sounded different.

Serious again.

"...I am honoured."

"I mean that."

"...but I have to be realistic."

Eldred's smile disappeared.

"Of course."

"Rome gets asked to mediate disputes constantly."

"Sometimes officially."

"Sometimes unofficially."

"Sometimes both sides insist we're the only neutral party."

"Sometimes both sides insist we're biased."

"Sometimes the same side does both in the same week."

Eldred smiled slightly.

Petraeus continued.

"I have a government."

"A legislature."

"Military obligations."

"Trade negotiations."

"Domestic problems."

"Foreign problems."

"...and occasionally..."

"...I enjoy seeing my wife."

Eldred laughed.

"So I can't personally settle every argument in the world."

"Of course."

A pause.

Eldred waited.

Nothing.

His stomach tightened.

Was that a no?

Had he failed?

Should he push?

Should he thank Petraeus?

Should he offer something?

What?

He had no idea.

The silence lengthened.

Petraeus noticed.

"Mr. Eldred."

"Yes?"

"You don't know what to say."

It wasn't a question.

Eldred sighed.

"No."

"I noticed."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Right."

"That's another lesson."

Eldred frowned.

"Another?"

"Your first diplomatic lesson."

Eldred sat straighter.

Petraeus continued.

"If you want something from another government..."

"...you have to consider what that government wants from you."

Eldred frowned.

"What do you want?"

Petraeus laughed.

"Better."

Eldred smiled.

"...but..."

He looked genuinely baffled.

"...what can Aetheria offer Rome?"

"Quite a lot."

Eldred stared.

"No offence..."

"None taken."

"...but you're Rome."

"Yes."

"The Roman Empire."

"Still yes."

Eldred spread one hand helplessly.

"That's like buying a gift for a billionaire."

"What do you give someone who already has everything?"

Petraeus answered immediately.

"Something they don't."

Eldred blinked.

"...Right."

Petraeus continued.

"Aetheria needs reconstruction."

"Yes."

"Reconstruction needs capital."

Eldred nodded.

Again...

Phone.

Right.

"Yes."

"It needs engineering firms."

"Construction companies."

"Banking."

"Insurance."

"Transportation."

"Telecommunications."

"Power."

"Water."

"Consultants."

"Legal experts."

"Urban planners."

"Analysts."

"Observers."

"Advisers."

Eldred's eyebrows slowly rose.

Petraeus continued.

"All of those people need access."

"Contracts."

"Licences."

"Local partners."

"Tax arrangements."

"Investment protections."

"Trade access."

"Land."

"Ports."

"Roads."

"Airspace."

"Markets."

Eldred was completely silent now.

He understood.

Finally.

"Oh."

Petraeus laughed.

"There it is again."

Eldred smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry."

"I told you to stop apologizing."

"Right."

Petraeus continued.

"Rome has a trade company province in Gujarat."

Eldred listened carefully.

"It does very well."

"We'd like it to do better."

"How?"

"Reach."

"Influence."

"Access."

"Trade corridors."

"Contracts farther into the region."

Petraeus paused.

"A rebuilding Aetheria could become part of that."

Eldred stared ahead.

The summit suddenly felt different.

Not sinister.

Not corrupt.

Just...

Larger.

He'd called asking for a room and an Emperor.

Petraeus was talking about markets.

Infrastructure.

Regional strategy.

Decades.

Eldred swallowed.

"So..."

He hesitated.

"...you'd host the summit if we offered Roman companies favourable rebuilding contracts?"

Petraeus immediately stopped him.

"No."

Eldred froze.

"No?"

"Never phrase it that way."

Eldred's eyes widened.

"Oh."

"That sounds like a bribe."

"It wasn't-"

"I know."

Petraeus laughed softly.

"I'm teaching you."

Eldred exhaled.

"Right."

"You don't trade one favour for one favour like children swapping sweets."

"Governments develop relationships."

"Rome helps create stability."

"Aetheria considers Rome a preferred economic partner."

"Rome provides expertise."

"Aetheria provides access."

"Both sides create conditions where cooperation benefits both countries."

Eldred nodded slowly.

"That's diplomacy."

"Part of it."

"I thought diplomacy was treaties."

"It is."

"Speeches."

"Sometimes."

"State dinners."

"Unfortunately."

Eldred laughed.

Petraeus continued.

"Mostly..."

"...it's figuring out what everyone wants..."

"...what everyone can live with..."

"...and how to make them believe they gained something."

Eldred thought about that.

Then-

"I have absolutely no authority to promise you any of those things."

Petraeus laughed.

Finally.

Something Eldred had gotten right.

"Excellent."

"What?"

"That was the correct answer."

Eldred smiled.

"I'm learning."

"Slowly."

"Boyd says the same thing."

"Boyd sounds wise."

"He enjoys watching us suffer."

"Then he's definitely experienced government."

Eldred laughed.

Petraeus became serious again.

"Don't promise anything today."

"Talk to Elara."

"Talk to whoever eventually becomes your Finance Minister."

"Trade Minister."

"Economic advisers."

"Lawyers."

"People who know what they're doing."

Eldred smiled.

"That would be new."

"It generally helps."

Then-

Petraeus sighed.

"All right."

Eldred straightened.

"All right?"

"I'll host it."

Silence.

Eldred's eyes widened.

"You will?"

"Yes."

"Here?"

"In Ercolanum."

Eldred smiled.

"...and you'll moderate?"

"I'll participate."

"Personally?"

"Yes."

Eldred almost stood.

Then remembered that would accomplish nothing.

"Thank you."

His excitement poured straight through any remaining professionalism.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"You're welcome."

Petraeus paused.

"...and before you start offering me Gujarat access..."

Eldred froze.

"...I'm not accepting anything from you today."

Eldred frowned.

"Why?"

"Because you don't know what you're doing."

Silence.

Then Eldred laughed.

Petraeus did too.

"That's brutally honest."

"Would you prefer dishonest diplomacy?"

"Probably not."

"Good."

Petraeus continued.

"If I wanted to..."

"...I could probably extract half a dozen commitments from you during this phone call."

Eldred swallowed.

"That's comforting."

"I won't."

"Why?"

"Because that would be taking advantage of an inexperienced government during a crisis."

Petraeus's voice softened.

"...and I don't want our relationship with Aetheria beginning that way."

Eldred relaxed.

"...but..."

There it was.

Eldred smiled.

"There's always a but."

"Always."

Petraeus continued.

"The next person you speak to may not be as charitable."

Eldred's smile faded.

"Some governments will see your weakness."

"Some companies will see it."

"Some diplomats will see it."

"Some will help."

"Some will smile while helping themselves."

Eldred listened.

"So learn."

"Fast."

"You represent a country now."

"What you say matters."

"What you don't say matters."

"What you promise matters."

"Sometimes..."

"...what you accidentally imply matters most."

Eldred stared at the floor.

That was terrifying.

Petraeus seemed to sense it.

"Don't panic."

"I'm trying."

"Poorly?"

"Very."

Petraeus laughed.

"You'll learn."

Eldred smiled.

"Elara will too."

"I suspect so."

"Speaking of Elara..."

Eldred looked up.

"Yes?"

"Is she there?"

"No."

"Where is she?"

"Interview."

"Ah."

Petraeus paused.

"I'd like to speak with her."

"Of course."

"Perhaps take her to dinner."

Eldred froze.

Just slightly.

Unfortunately...

Petraeus noticed everything.

Silence.

Then-

"Mr. Eldred?"

"Yes?"

"You became very quiet."

"No."

"You did."

Eldred rubbed the back of his neck.

"No."

Petraeus laughed.

Eldred closed his eyes.

Here we go.

"She's my girlfriend."

Silence.

Then Petraeus laughed.

Not politely.

Really laughed.

Eldred waited.

"Yes."

Petraeus eventually managed.

"I know."

Eldred blinked.

"Oh."

"Mr. Eldred..."

Another laugh.

"I'm not Nero."

Eldred burst out laughing.

"I didn't mean-"

"I am not going to invite the Queen of Aetheria to dinner..."

"...murder her boyfriend..."

"...and marry her."

Eldred covered his face.

"This conversation has gone badly."

"It's gone wonderfully."

"For you."

"Very much so."

Eldred laughed.

Then Petraeus softened.

"Don't be insecure."

Eldred lowered his hand.

"I'm trying not to be."

"You're going to have to get used to this."

"Elara is a head of state now."

"She's going to have dinners with presidents."

"Prime ministers."

"Kings."

"Queens."

"Emperors."

"Business leaders."

"Generals."

"Ambassadors."

"People she likes."

"People she doesn't."

Petraeus paused.

"...and she'll probably hate seventy-five percent of them."

Eldred laughed.

"Probably."

"You'll attend many of those dinners too."

"Wonderful."

"Some will be wonderful."

"Some will be unbearable."

"Some will last four hours."

Eldred groaned.

"Why?"

"Because diplomacy hates happiness."

Eldred laughed again.

Then-

"I understand."

He looked toward the empty chair Elara had occupied earlier.

"It's just..."

"What?"

"A work in progress."

Petraeus waited.

"Yesterday..."

Eldred smiled faintly.

"...she was Elara."

"Today she's Queen Elara."

"...and yesterday you were Eldred."

"Today I'm Royal Chancellor."

"Minister of Everything."

Petraeus paused.

"What?"

Eldred laughed.

"Long story."

"I look forward to hearing it."

Eldred smiled.

"It's just strange."

"Of course it is."

"You're allowed to find it strange."

Petraeus continued.

"Just don't let strange become fear."

"Or jealousy."

"Or control."

Eldred nodded slowly.

"Right."

"Trust her."

"I do."

"Good."

"...and let her become what she has to become."

Eldred looked down.

That one stayed with him.

Petraeus continued.

"Give her my number."

"Have her call me when she's finished."

"Through the official number?"

Petraeus laughed.

"No."

"The one that just called you."

Eldred stared at the screen.

"Oh."

"There it is."

Eldred laughed.

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Right."

"You're learning."

"Slowly."

Petraeus smiled through the phone.

"I'll speak with you again, Chancellor."

Eldred straightened.

The title still felt strange.

"Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty."

"Petraeus is fine when we're speaking privately."

Eldred froze.

"...Really?"

"Don't make me regret it."

Eldred smiled.

"I won't."

"Goodbye, Eldred."

"Goodbye..."

He hesitated.

"...Petraeus."

The name felt illegal.

Petraeus laughed.

Then the call ended.

Eldred slowly lowered the phone.

He stared at it.

For several seconds...

Nothing.

Then-

"Petraeus called me."

Nobody was nearby to appreciate this.

Eldred looked around anyway.

"Petraeus called me."

Still nobody.

He smiled.

Then remembered the rest of the conversation.

Trade.

Investment.

Access.

Negotiation.

Diplomatic leverage.

Elara having dinner with thousands of powerful people.

The possibility that other governments would eat him alive.

His smile faded slightly.

He opened his notes.

Started typing.

SUMMIT APPROVED — PETRAEUS WILL PARTICIPATE

Then-

DO NOT PROMISE ANYTHING.

He stared at that line.

Added-

SERIOUSLY.

Then another.

ASK ELARA ABOUT GUJARAT / ROMAN INVESTMENT

Then-

GET ACTUAL FOREIGN AFFAIRS MINISTER.

Eldred stared.

That one seemed increasingly urgent.

He saved the note.

Then leaned back.

Yesterday...

He had been Eldred.

Today...

The Emperor of Rome had personally taught him his first lesson in international diplomacy.

Eldred smiled.

Then his phone rang again.

He looked at it.

Unknown number.

The smile disappeared.

"Back to government."

---

The lake was beautiful.

Lars had barely noticed.

Not until now.

The balcony overlooked the water, the lights of Miramar stretching along the shoreline and reflecting across the surface.

Somewhere below...

Music.

Cars.

People laughing.

The city was still awake.

So were Lars and Sven.

Barely.

Lars leaned against the balcony railing.

Shirtless.

Lei hanging around his neck.

Beer bottle in one hand.

Sven stood beside him in roughly the same condition.

Minus the lei.

Behind them...

Two women slept.

One sprawled diagonally across one bed.

The other had somehow acquired nearly every pillow in the room.

Sven looked back through the open balcony door.

"She's got my pillow."

Lars glanced back.

"So?"

"I like that pillow."

"You have six."

"That's the good one."

Lars laughed.

Sven took another drink.

"Tragic."

"Very."

They stood quietly.

Lars smiled.

He hadn't had a night like this in...

...by Jove...

How long?

Drinking.

Dancing.

Talking to women.

Making idiots of themselves.

Making complete idiots of themselves.

No bottles.

No diapers.

No Sophia.

No Peter.

No-

Sarah.

Lars' smile faded.

He looked down at his beer.

There it was.

He waited.

...

Nothing.

Lars frowned.

Took another drink.

Still...

Nothing.

That was strange.

Not what he'd done.

He knew what he'd done.

That part was extremely straightforward.

He had cheated on his wife.

There was no loophole.

No technicality.

No-

We were on a break.

No.

He was married.

He had left Sarah.

Found Sven.

Gone drinking.

Met a woman.

Gone back to the hotel with her.

...and cheated.

Simple.

The strange part...

Was how little he cared.

Lars stared across the lake.

He'd seen movies.

Read books.

Watched enough television.

There was always a moment.

The married man kissed another woman...

Then pulled away.

I can't.

Or he sat on the edge of the bed afterward...

Head in his hands.

What have I done?

Or he looked at his wedding ring.

Or saw a photograph of his children.

Or suddenly realized that the exciting stranger in front of him wasn't worth destroying everything he had at home.

Something.

Some epiphany.

Some great moral thunderbolt.

Lars had waited for his.

It never came.

Not when he kissed her.

Not when they came upstairs.

Not when he took off his wedding ring and put it on the nightstand.

Not afterward.

Not now.

Instead...

Everything had felt...

Right.

Lars hated that word.

He loved that word.

It terrified him.

It liberated him.

He took another drink.

"Sven."

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Sven looked at him.

"You already did."

Lars stared.

Sven smiled.

"Sorry."

Lars laughed.

"Jerk."

"What's up?"

Lars looked through the balcony door.

Then back toward the lake.

"I don't feel bad."

Sven's expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

"About?"

Lars looked at him.

Sven nodded.

"Right."

Lars turned back toward the water.

"I should."

"Probably."

"I cheated on my wife."

"Yes."

"I have two kids."

"Also yes."

"I should feel like crap."

Sven took another drink.

"I can't tell you how you're supposed to feel."

"That's the problem."

Lars frowned.

"I don't."

Sven remained quiet.

"I mean..."

Lars gestured toward the room.

"Nothing."

"I had fun."

"A lot of fun."

"Best night I've had in..."

He stopped.

That sentence sounded awful.

Sven didn't rescue him from it.

Lars sighed.

"I don't know."

He stared at the bottle.

"I kept waiting for that moment."

"What moment?"

"You know."

Lars waved vaguely.

"The movie moment."

Sven frowned.

"The movie moment?"

"The guy cheats."

"Then suddenly he realizes..."

Lars put on an exaggerated voice.

"'Oh by Jove! What am I doing? I love my wife.'"

Sven smiled faintly.

"Right."

"Then he runs home."

"Or stops halfway."

"Or whatever."

Lars shook his head.

"Didn't happen."

Sven leaned against the railing.

"No."

"No."

Lars looked at him.

"Why?"

Sven shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Helpful."

"I'm serious."

Sven took another drink.

"I can't tell you what it means."

"You know me."

"I do."

"Then guess."

Sven sighed.

"Fine."

He looked across the lake.

"You want the nice answer?"

"No."

"Good."

Sven thought.

Then-

"I don't think you ever finished being young."

Lars frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"It means..."

Sven gestured toward him.

"You got married."

"You had kids."

"You got the house."

"Family."

"Career."

"Everything you're supposed to want."

Lars listened.

"...but I'm not sure you were actually ready for any of it."

Lars stared at him.

Sven continued.

"I think you liked the idea."

"Of Sarah?"

"No."

Sven immediately shook his head.

"I think you loved Sarah."

Lars looked away.

"I still do."

"Okay."

Sven accepted it without argument.

"...but loving Sarah and being ready to be married to Sarah aren't necessarily the same thing."

Lars said nothing.

"You liked being in love."

"You liked having somebody."

"You liked the wedding."

"You liked the idea of having kids."

"You liked the idea of being a husband."

"A father."

Sven paused.

"...and maybe you thought becoming those things would make you ready to be those things."

Lars frowned.

"I don't understand."

"You thought you'd grow into it."

Sven shrugged.

"Get married..."

"...and you'll become a husband."

"Have kids..."

"...and you'll become a dad."

"Responsibilities show up..."

"...and responsible Lars magically shows up with them."

Lars stared.

"That's harsh."

"You asked."

"I know."

Sven looked back toward the hotel room.

Then at Lars.

"You always liked this."

Lars followed his eyes.

The women.

The beer.

The city.

The freedom.

"Going out."

"Travelling."

"Meeting people."

"Doing whatever you want."

"No schedule except work."

"No commitments except whatever you've already decided you want."

Sven looked at him.

"...and maybe part of you never stopped wanting that."

Lars took a long drink.

He couldn't argue.

That was the problem.

He couldn't argue with any of it.

"I missed this."

"I know."

"A lot."

"I know."

Lars laughed quietly.

"I forgot how much."

Sven nodded.

Lars stared across the lake.

"I felt..."

He searched.

"Young."

Sven smiled slightly.

"You are young."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah."

Lars looked down.

"No one needed anything from me."

There.

That one hurt.

Lars heard it himself.

Sven did too.

Lars rubbed his face.

"F***."

He looked toward the room.

"That's horrible."

"It's honest."

"I have kids."

"Yes."

"Sophia needs me."

"Yes."

"Peter needs me."

"Yes."

Lars turned toward Sven.

"I can't just..."

He gestured around them.

"...do this."

Sven said nothing.

"I can't give up on my kids."

"No."

"I won't."

Sven nodded.

"Good."

Lars looked down.

"Sarah..."

He hesitated.

That hesitation said enough.

"...maybe."

Sven looked at him.

Lars swallowed.

"F***."

For the first time that night...

Something resembling guilt appeared.

Not about the woman sleeping inside.

Not directly.

About Sophia.

Peter.

The consequences.

The life waiting behind the fun.

Lars put the beer bottle on the balcony table.

"Maybe I really f***ed up tonight."

Sven nodded.

"Maybe."

Lars looked at him.

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know."

"'No, Lars. Cheating on your wife was actually an excellent decision.'"

Lars laughed despite himself.

"No."

"Then maybe you f***ed up."

Sven shrugged.

"Maybe tonight tells you something you needed to know."

"That's not exactly better."

"I didn't say it was."

Lars stared at Sven.

Then-

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"This."

Lars gestured toward the room.

"The Sven thing."

Sven smiled.

"The Sven thing?"

"You know what I mean."

"No commitments."

"Women."

"Travel."

"Wrestling."

"You do whatever you want."

"How does that work?"

Sven thought for a moment.

Then shrugged.

"I'm honest."

Lars laughed.

"You?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Fifteen Girlfriends?"

"I don't lie to them."

"Fair."

Sven leaned against the railing.

"I know what I want."

"I know what I don't want."

"If I want to date somebody, I date them."

"If it gets serious..."

"...I decide whether I want serious."

"If I don't..."

"...I say so."

"If she wants something I don't want..."

"...then we shouldn't be together."

Lars listened.

"I'm not marrying somebody because I think marriage will fix me."

"I'm not having kids because everybody says eventually I'll want kids."

"I'm not promising forever because forever sounds romantic after three beers."

Lars looked at his bottle.

"Four."

Sven glanced at it.

"That explains the lei."

Lars laughed.

He touched it.

"I like the lei."

"It's magnificent."

"Thank you."

Sven smiled.

Then became serious again.

"I don't do things I'm not committed to doing."

Lars frowned.

"That's your secret?"

"Pretty much."

"Sounds selfish."

"Sometimes it is."

Sven shrugged.

"...but marrying someone when you don't want marriage is worse."

"Having kids when you don't want kids is worse."

"Promising somebody you're going to build a life with them..."

"...then spending that life wishing you were somewhere else..."

Sven looked toward the hotel room.

"...that's worse."

Lars looked away.

The words sat there.

Heavy.

"You think that's me?"

"I don't know."

"Come on."

"I don't."

Sven shook his head.

"I think you hit a crossroads tonight."

Lars looked at him.

"A crossroads."

"Yeah."

"You can go home tomorrow..."

"...pretend this never happened..."

"...tell yourself you were drunk..."

"...blame the fight..."

"...blame Sarah..."

"...blame me..."

Lars looked at him.

"I'm not blaming you."

"Good."

"Because I didn't make you do anything."

"I know."

Sven continued.

"Or..."

"...you can actually figure out why you did it."

Lars frowned.

"Because I was pissed off."

"Maybe."

"Because Sarah called me stupid."

"Maybe."

"Because I wanted to have fun."

"Definitely."

Lars almost smiled.

Sven didn't.

"...but none of that explains why you don't care."

Lars' smile vanished.

There it was again.

The part he couldn't escape.

Sven pointed toward him.

"That's what you need to figure out."

Lars looked toward the water.

"Do you want Sarah?"

Lars opened his mouth.

Sven immediately stopped him.

"Don't answer me."

Lars closed it.

"Answer yourself."

Sven continued.

"Do you want your marriage?"

"Not because you already have it."

"Not because divorce would be ugly."

"Not because of money."

"Not because you're scared of hurting Sarah."

"Not because you're scared Joanna will kill you."

Lars smiled faintly.

"She might."

"Probably."

"Azamat definitely will."

"Probably."

Sven continued.

"Do you actually want to be Sarah's husband?"

Lars stared across the lake.

"...and your kids."

Sven's voice softened.

"That's different."

Lars nodded immediately.

"Yes."

"I know."

"I want them."

"Then that's something."

Lars swallowed.

"I can't abandon them."

"Then don't."

"...but if Sarah and I-"

"Being Sarah's husband and being Sophia and Peter's father aren't the same job."

Lars looked at him.

"You can fail at one..."

"...without deciding you're going to fail at the other."

Lars absorbed that.

It was simultaneously comforting...

...and horrifying.

Because it made something possible that he hadn't wanted to admit was possible.

Sarah...

Without Lars.

Lars...

Without Sarah.

Sophia and Peter...

With both.

Somehow.

Maybe.

Sven continued.

"You have to figure out where your heart actually is."

"Then figure out where your commitments are."

"...and once you know..."

He shrugged.

"...commit."

"Really commit."

"If that's Sarah..."

"...then stop half-a**ing your marriage."

Lars flinched.

"If it's not Sarah..."

"...stop pretending."

Another flinch.

"...and the kids?"

"Be their father."

"No matter what."

"No excuses."

"No..."

Sven smiled.

"...'Sarah knows the routine better.'"

Lars glared.

"F*** you."

"You told me about yesterday."

"I know."

Sven laughed.

Then softened again.

"You've got two little people who didn't choose any of this."

Lars nodded.

"They don't care whether Dad wants to feel twenty-two again."

"They don't care whether Mum and Dad are having problems."

"They need their dad."

"So be him."

Lars stared toward the lake.

Silence.

Long this time.

The city continued below.

A car horn.

Laughter.

Music.

Somebody yelled something from another balcony.

Sven finished his beer.

Lars didn't touch his.

Eventually-

"I really love them."

"I know."

"Sophia..."

Lars smiled.

"She climbs on me every time I come home."

Sven smiled.

"She's weird."

"She's perfect."

"She's weird."

Lars laughed.

"Peter's starting to recognize me."

"That's usually how children work."

"Shut up."

Sven grinned.

Lars looked down.

His smile faded.

"I don't want them growing up thinking I left them."

"Then don't leave them."

"What if I leave Sarah?"

Sven shrugged.

"Then you figure it out."

"Custody."

"Schedules."

"Where you live."

"Where they live."

"How touring works."

"How Sarah works."

"How you work."

"Whatever."

He looked at Lars.

"...but that's tomorrow."

Lars nodded.

"Tonight..."

Sven pointed toward him.

"...you figure out what the heck happened to you."

Lars stared at the water again.

He wasn't sure he liked that assignment.

It was much easier when he was angry.

Sarah was unreasonable.

Sarah called him stupid.

Sarah didn't appreciate him.

Sarah made him feel useless.

Easy.

Then he could leave.

Drink.

Meet somebody.

Have fun.

Prove to himself that he was still Lars.

Except now...

The anger was gone.

...and Lars was still here.

Still married.

Still a father.

Still wearing a lei.

Still standing shirtless beside Sven at some ridiculous hour of the morning...

...while a woman whose last name he wasn't completely sure he remembered slept inside.

Lars looked down at his wedding ring.

He'd put it back on.

He wasn't sure when.

He turned it around his finger.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

"I don't know what I want."

Sven nodded.

"Then that's where you start."

Lars looked at him.

"That's terrible advice."

"It's excellent advice."

"It doesn't tell me anything."

"It tells you not to make another life-changing decision until you know."

Lars considered that.

"...Okay."

"Don't go home and promise Sarah everything."

Lars nodded.

"Don't call her and end the marriage from a hotel balcony."

Lars nodded again.

"Don't wake her up right now and confess because suddenly you need to feel better."

Lars looked at him.

That one hadn't occurred to him.

Now it had.

Sven pointed.

"Especially that."

Lars sighed.

"Fine."

"Figure yourself out."

"Then talk to her."

Lars looked back toward the room.

"...and..."

He gestured vaguely.

Sven understood.

"Yeah."

Lars swallowed.

"I have to tell her."

"Eventually."

"That's going to destroy her."

"Maybe."

Lars closed his eyes.

There.

Finally.

Something hurt.

Not enough to undo the night.

Nothing could.

...but enough.

Lars opened his eyes.

"Crap."

Sven put a hand on his shoulder.

"Crossroads."

Lars nodded.

"Crossroads."

They stood together.

Looking across Miramar.

The lake stretched peacefully beneath them.

Behind them...

The remains of the life Lars thought he'd missed.

Somewhere else...

The family he'd walked away from hours earlier.

Neither disappeared simply because Lars wanted the other.

That was the problem.

For perhaps the first time since he'd married Sarah...

Lars understood that he couldn't simply drift into whatever happened next.

He had to choose.

...and then...

He had to live like he'd chosen it.

---

Joanna's phone rang.

She glanced at the screen.

SARAH

Joanna smiled.

Then answered.

"Hey, Sar—"

The smile vanished.

Sarah filled the screen.

Barely.

She was slumped against the couch.

Hair everywhere.

Eyes swollen.

Face red.

She looked like she had spent the last several hours crying...

...because she had.

Joanna immediately sat upright.

"Oh my goodness."

Sarah sniffled.

"Hi."

"Sarah."

Joanna stared.

"What happened?"

Sarah laughed.

A pathetic little sound.

"What didn't happen?"

Joanna's expression softened.

"Oh, honey."

Sarah wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

"I'm tired."

"I know."

"No."

Sarah shook her head.

"I'm..."

She closed her eyes.

"...I don't think I've ever been this tired."

Joanna didn't know what to say.

Sarah continued anyway.

"I can't do anything."

"I don't want to do anything."

"I don't want to cook."

"I don't want to clean."

"I don't want to get up."

"I don't want to talk to anybody."

She sniffled.

"...but I have two children."

Joanna nodded.

"I know."

"So I have to."

Sarah looked away from the phone.

"I can't just..."

She gestured weakly.

"...stop."

Somewhere offscreen...

A child made a noise.

Sarah's head immediately turned.

She listened.

Waited.

Nothing else.

Sarah relaxed.

Barely.

Joanna watched.

Even now.

Exhausted.

Heartbroken.

Barely functioning.

Sarah was listening for the kids.

"Where's Lars?"

Sarah looked back at the screen.

Silence.

Joanna immediately regretted asking.

"Right."

Sarah swallowed.

"I don't know."

Joanna's face hardened.

Of course she knew more than that.

Everybody knew more than that.

The entire world apparently knew more than Sarah wanted to know.

Sarah shifted the phone.

For a moment...

Joanna saw the entrance behind her.

Joanna stared.

"...Is that still that stupid gate?"

Sarah looked over her shoulder.

"Yep."

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"They didn't fix the door?"

"Nope."

"Did you call management?"

Sarah laughed.

That laugh again.

"They won't answer."

Joanna stared.

"They won't answer?"

"I called."

Sarah held up the phone.

"Nothing."

"I called again."

"Nothing."

"I left a message."

"Nothing."

She shrugged.

"I don't know."

Joanna shook her head.

"That is insane."

"I don't care anymore."

That scared Joanna more than the crying.

Sarah looked toward the stupid garden gate.

"They can leave it."

"What?"

"They can leave it forever."

Sarah shrugged.

"I don't care."

"Sarah-"

"I don't."

She leaned her head against the couch.

"They can put another gate behind that gate."

"Then another one."

"Build a whole fucking fence through my living room."

Joanna almost smiled.

Almost.

Sarah didn't.

Joanna's smile disappeared.

Then she noticed something else.

"Where's Fido?"

Sarah closed her eyes.

"Oh."

Joanna frowned.

"Where is he?"

"Somewhere."

"Somewhere?"

"He doesn't like me right now."

Joanna stared.

"My dog?"

Sarah nodded miserably.

"Your dog."

"What did he do?"

Sarah looked away.

"...I don't want to talk about it."

Joanna blinked.

"What did Fido do?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Sarah."

"I had to discipline him."

Joanna's eyes widened.

"For what?"

"Joanna."

"What did he-"

"Please."

Sarah looked into the camera.

"I can't."

Joanna stopped.

Whatever Fido had done...

Not now.

"Okay."

Sarah wiped her eyes again.

"He won't even come near me."

"He'll come around."

"Great."

Sarah laughed bitterly.

"My husband leaves me."

"My dog hates me."

"Your dog."

"Your dog hates me."

"Thank you."

Sarah actually smiled.

Tiny.

Gone almost immediately.

Joanna leaned closer to the screen.

"Sarah..."

She hesitated.

Because there was no point pretending.

Sarah knew.

Joanna knew.

Zas knew.

The entire wrestling world knew.

Probably half the people who had never watched wrestling knew by now.

"Have you..."

Joanna stopped.

Sarah looked at her.

"Seen it?"

Joanna nodded.

Sarah's eyes filled again.

"Yeah."

Joanna closed her eyes.

"F***."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

Sarah nodded.

Joanna didn't know what else to say.

The photographs had spread everywhere.

Lars at a bar in Cleveland.

Sven beside him.

Lars with another woman.

Then another photograph.

Lars kissing her.

Another-

The woman pressed against him on the dance floor.

Lars' hands on her.

Enough that nobody could plausibly call it friendly.

Enough that nobody could plausibly call it innocent.

Sarah swallowed.

"I don't know what happened after."

Joanna said nothing.

"I don't know if he slept with her."

Sarah stared downward.

"Maybe he did."

A pause.

"Maybe there were two."

Joanna's face tightened.

"Sarah-"

"I don't know."

Sarah shrugged.

"I don't care."

Joanna stared at her.

Sarah looked back.

"I mean it."

Her voice cracked.

"I don't want details."

"I don't want somebody investigating."

"I don't want someone finding the women."

"I don't want somebody asking Sven."

"I don't want..."

Her breathing hitched.

She stopped.

Covered her face.

Joanna waited.

Sarah lowered her hands.

"I saw enough."

The tears returned.

Joanna's own eyes watered.

"F*** him."

Sarah laughed through her tears.

"That's apparently what somebody did."

Joanna froze.

Sarah stared at herself on the screen.

Then-

A laugh escaped Joanna.

She immediately covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry."

Sarah laughed too.

Just for a second.

Then she started crying again.

Joanna's face crumpled.

"Oh, Sarah."

"I don't know what to do."

"I know."

"No."

Sarah shook her head.

"I really don't."

She rubbed her eyes.

"I keep thinking..."

She stopped.

"What?"

"I don't think I can stay with him."

Joanna went quiet.

Sarah stared downward.

"I don't."

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to look at him."

"How I'm supposed to sleep beside him."

"How I'm supposed to..."

She shook her head.

"I don't know."

Joanna nodded slowly.

"You don't have to decide that right now."

"...but I do."

"No, you don't."

"I have two kids."

"That doesn't mean you have to decide today."

"I don't have money."

Joanna stopped.

Sarah looked ashamed immediately.

"I can't afford this place."

"Sarah-"

"I can't."

Her voice became more frantic.

"I don't make what Lars makes."

"I don't wrestle anymore."

"I've got Sophia."

"Peter."

"I've got bills."

"I've got-"

"Sarah."

"I can't just leave."

"Sarah."

"I don't even know where I'd go."

"Sarah."

Joanna tried again.

"Sarah!"

Sarah stopped.

Joanna softened immediately.

"You're not doing this alone."

Sarah looked at her.

"We'll figure something out."

"How?"

"I don't know yet."

"Exactly."

"No."

Joanna shook her head.

"I don't know yet."

Sarah stared.

Joanna continued.

"You've got me."

"You've got people who love you."

"We're not going to let you end up on the street with two babies because Lars decided to-"

She stopped.

Looked offscreen.

"Zas."

Sarah blinked.

"What?"

Joanna turned.

"How long have you been standing there?"

Zasaramel appeared over Joanna's shoulder.

"Long enough."

Joanna stared.

"You were listening?"

"You were shouting."

"I wasn't shouting."

Zas looked at her.

Joanna sighed.

"Fine."

Zas looked toward the screen.

His expression changed when he saw Sarah.

"Hello, Sarah."

Sarah wiped her face.

"Hi, Zas."

"You look terrible."

Joanna smacked his arm.

"ZAS!"

"What?"

Sarah laughed.

Actually laughed.

A small one.

Zas frowned.

"I was not insulting her."

"I know."

Sarah sniffled.

"He's right."

Joanna glared at him.

Zas remained completely unbothered.

Then he sat beside Joanna.

"May I ask you something?"

Sarah shrugged.

"Sure."

Zas looked at her.

"Do you love Lars?"

Sarah froze.

Joanna turned toward him.

"Zas."

"What?"

"Maybe don't-"

Sarah interrupted.

"I don't know."

Silence.

The answer surprised even Sarah.

She stared at the screen.

"I..."

She swallowed.

"I think so."

Zas nodded.

"I did."

He waited.

Sarah corrected herself.

"I do."

Another pause.

"I think."

Joanna reached toward the phone as though she could somehow touch Sarah through it.

Zas remained still.

"Then that is what you must determine."

Sarah frowned.

"What?"

"Whether you love him."

"I just said-"

"You said you think."

Sarah stopped.

Zas continued.

"You told Joanna you cannot afford to leave him."

Sarah looked down.

"Yeah."

"You said you need his income."

"Yes."

"You need help with the children."

Sarah's mouth tightened.

"He's not exactly helping right now."

"No."

Zas accepted that immediately.

"...but you need someone."

Sarah nodded.

"You need a home."

"Money."

"Support."

"Security."

"Yes."

Zas leaned slightly toward the screen.

"Those are needs."

Sarah stared.

"They are important."

"They are not love."

Joanna went quiet.

Sarah did too.

Zas continued.

"You must decide whether you love Lars..."

"...or whether you merely need Lars."

Sarah swallowed.

"What if it's both?"

"Then it is both."

Zas shrugged.

"There is nothing wrong with needing your husband."

Sarah looked at him.

"...but you must know which is which."

Silence.

Sarah's breathing slowed.

For the first time during the call...

She wasn't crying.

She was thinking.

Zas continued.

"If you love Lars..."

"...then perhaps you can repair your marriage."

Sarah's face twisted.

"I don't know if I can forgive this."

"I did not say you must."

Sarah looked at him.

"Love does not require you to accept everything another person does."

Zas paused.

"...but if you still love him..."

"...and he still loves you..."

"...and both of you truly wish to repair what you have broken..."

He nodded.

"...then perhaps you can."

Sarah stared at the screen.

"...and if I don't?"

Zas's expression remained gentle.

"Then you repair something else."

Sarah frowned.

"Your life."

Silence.

"If what keeps you with Lars is that you need money..."

"...then find another way to obtain money."

"If you need somewhere to live..."

"...find somewhere to live."

"If you need help raising Sophia and Peter..."

"...find people who will help you."

Sarah stared.

Zas continued.

"Those problems may be difficult."

"Very difficult."

"...but they are problems that can be solved."

Sarah's eyes filled again.

Different tears now.

Not quite despair.

"You're making it sound easy."

"No."

Zas shook his head.

"I think it would be very hard."

Sarah laughed weakly.

"Thanks."

"...but hard is not impossible."

He looked directly at her.

"You should not stay with a man you no longer love because you are afraid you cannot survive without him."

Sarah stared.

"...and you should not leave a man you still love merely because you are afraid that loving him makes you weak."

Joanna looked at Zas.

Then back at Sarah.

Sarah was completely silent.

Finally-

"Wow."

Zas frowned.

Joanna smiled faintly.

"That means you made sense."

"Ah."

Sarah rubbed her forehead.

"That makes..."

She sighed.

"...way too much sense."

Zas nodded.

"I often do."

Joanna stared at him.

Zas smiled.

Sarah laughed again.

A little longer this time.

Then she looked away.

"I need to think."

"Yes," Zas said.

"Not tonight," Joanna added immediately.

Sarah looked at her.

"You don't have to solve your marriage tonight."

Joanna pointed toward the screen.

"Your job tonight is Sophia."

"Peter."

"Food."

"Water."

"Sleep if those two tiny monsters allow it."

Sarah smiled faintly.

"They won't."

"Probably not."

"...and tomorrow?"

Joanna shrugged.

"Tomorrow can be tomorrow."

Sarah nodded.

That...

She could manage.

Maybe.

Then Joanna's eyes narrowed.

"Now."

Sarah frowned.

"What?"

"Fido."

Sarah groaned.

"Oh no."

"I want to talk to him."

"Joanna."

"Get my dog."

"He's mad at me."

"I'll set him straight."

"Joanna-"

"Fido!"

Joanna shouted toward Sarah's phone as though the dog were somehow expected to understand video conferencing.

Sarah stared.

"You know he isn't inside the phone."

"FIDO!"

Zas leaned toward Joanna.

"I don't believe increasing your volume will help."

"Nobody asked you."

Zas leaned back.

Sarah shook her head.

Then-

Movement.

At the edge of the screen.

Joanna's face lit up.

"There!"

Sarah turned.

Fido stood in the hallway.

Watching.

"Come here."

Fido did not move.

Sarah sighed.

"See?"

Joanna leaned toward the screen.

"Fido!"

His ears moved.

"Come here, baby!"

Fido took one step.

Stopped.

Joanna's voice softened.

"Come on."

Another step.

Then another.

Sarah watched.

Eventually...

Fido approached the couch.

Slowly.

Sarah shifted the phone so Joanna could see him.

The moment Fido saw Joanna's face...

He froze.

His ears dropped.

His head lowered.

Joanna stared.

"Oh by Jove."

Sarah sniffled.

"Told you."

Joanna's expression became stern.

"Fido."

Fido looked away.

"Look at me."

Nothing.

"Fido."

He glanced toward the screen.

Then away again.

Joanna gasped.

"Are you ashamed?"

Zas frowned.

"Can dogs feel shame?"

"Not now, Zas."

Fido slowly looked toward Joanna again.

Joanna softened.

"Oh, baby."

Fido's tail moved.

Once.

Tiny.

"There he is."

Another wag.

"Come on."

Fido stepped closer.

Sarah watched.

Joanna smiled brightly.

"Who's my handsome boy?"

Tail.

Tail.

Tail.

"There he is!"

Fido's entire rear half started moving.

Sarah laughed.

Joanna laughed.

"That's my boy!"

Fido moved closer to Sarah.

Then put his front paws against the couch.

Sarah stared.

"Seriously?"

Joanna grinned.

"See?"

Fido looked at Sarah.

Sarah looked at Fido.

"You were ignoring me five minutes ago."

Fido climbed up beside her.

Turned around.

Then pressed himself against Sarah.

Sarah's face softened.

"Oh."

She wrapped an arm around him.

Fido licked her cheek.

Sarah laughed.

"No."

Another lick.

"Fido."

Another.

"Stop."

Joanna smiled.

"He's forgiven you."

"I didn't do anything to him."

Fido licked Sarah again.

"Okay."

She hugged him.

"I forgive you too."

Joanna frowned.

"For what?"

Sarah looked at her.

Joanna immediately remembered.

"Right."

"Not talking about it."

"Thank you."

Fido settled against Sarah.

Sarah stroked his fur.

Joanna smiled.

"Better?"

Sarah nodded.

"A little."

"Good."

Zas appeared beside Joanna again.

"Do you wish me to speak to the dog as well?"

Joanna looked at him.

"What are you going to tell him?"

Zas thought.

"That he must decide whether he loves Sarah or merely needs her."

Sarah burst out laughing.

A real laugh.

Sudden.

Unexpected.

She covered her mouth.

Joanna stared at Zas.

Then started laughing too.

Zas smiled.

Fido's tail began wagging again...

Because everyone else seemed happy.

Sarah looked down at him.

Amazing.

Five minutes ago...

He had been hiding from her.

Now his tail was thumping against the couch as if nothing bad had ever happened.

Joanna had said a few words.

Sarah had scratched behind his ears.

...and Fido's entire world was good again.

Sarah smiled.

She wished people worked that way.

She wished she worked that way.

One familiar voice.

One hand through her hair.

One-

Who's my good girl?

-and suddenly the door didn't matter.

The pictures didn't matter.

Lars didn't matter.

Nothing hurt.

Everything was simply...

Good again.

Sarah scratched beneath Fido's chin.

His eyes closed contentedly.

Lucky bastard.

Sarah smiled.

Not because she was happy.

Not yet.

...but because, for a few seconds...

Someone she loved was.

...and right now...

That was enough.

---

Lunch at the Imperial Academy was rarely quiet.

Today was no exception.

Someone was shouting from the training floor.

Weights clanged somewhere beyond the cafeteria.

A television mounted near the ceiling played highlights from last night's WFE show with the sound turned down.

Five wrestlers occupied one of the larger tables.

Rotimi Ayodele.

Dolph Wrangler.

Eddie Pineda.

Davo Grigoryan.

Darren Goodman.

Or-

As virtually everyone called the latter two-

Dav and Daz.

Daz had one boot resting on the empty chair beside him.

His hair looked like he'd styled it during an electrical storm.

Dav stared at the boot.

"Could you not?"

Daz looked at him.

"Not what?"

"Put your filthy boot where people eat."

"Nobody's eating there."

"Because your filthy boot is there."

Daz smiled.

"Still got it."

Dav sighed.

Across the table...

Eddie looked at them.

"You two should get back together."

Dav immediately pointed at him.

"No."

Daz grinned.

"See?"

Eddie laughed.

"I didn't even finish."

"You didn't have to."

Daz leaned toward Eddie.

"We've been doing this for twenty years."

Dav shook his head.

"We were randomly put together."

"...and became one of the greatest tag teams in Combat Arts history."

"According to you."

"According to history."

"According to your documentary."

"Same thing."

Dolph looked up from his lunch.

"I'd pay to see it."

Dav stared.

"Don't encourage him."

Rotimi smiled.

"I think everyone would pay to see it."

Dav groaned.

Daz raised both hands.

"THE REUNION TOUR!"

Immediately-

From somewhere across the cafeteria-

"DAV AND DAZ!"

Someone else joined.

"DAV AND DAZ!"

Another wrestler slapped a table.

"DAV AND DAZ!"

Dav closed his eyes.

Daz stood.

Raised his arms.

"DAV AND DAZ!"

Dav grabbed the back of Daz's shirt and pulled him down.

"Sit."

Daz sat.

Still grinning.

"You miss me."

"I see you every week."

"You miss us."

"There is no us."

Daz put a hand over his heart.

"You wound me."

Dolph shook his head.

"They're never giving you people the match."

"They've teased it for fifteen years," Rotimi said.

"Exactly," Dav replied. "Why ruin a perfectly good tease by actually doing it?"

Daz nodded solemnly.

"That's wrestling."

Eddie smiled.

Then looked down at his phone.

His smile faded.

Rotimi noticed.

"You all right?"

"Yeah."

Eddie sighed.

"No."

He put the phone down.

"Roman tour."

The table collectively groaned.

There it was.

The subject everyone had been avoiding.

Dolph stabbed at his lunch.

"I don't want to go."

Daz looked at him.

"You're allowed to say that?"

"I just did."

Dav nodded.

"I'm with Dolph."

Rotimi leaned back.

"I don't mind Rome."

"I like Rome," Dav said. "That's not the problem."

"The problem is Vince decided we're all going to Rome with about five minutes' notice."

"Exactly."

Daz shrugged.

"I've had worse surprises."

Dav looked at him.

"You once woke up in a monastery."

"That was a fantastic surprise."

"You didn't know what country you were in."

"Less fantastic."

Eddie wasn't laughing.

Daz noticed.

"What's wrong?"

Eddie exhaled.

"My anniversary."

The table quieted.

Dolph frowned.

"During the tour?"

"Yep."

"Ouch."

"Yep."

Eddie picked at his food.

"We were supposed to be in Dominica."

Rotimi nodded.

"Your hometown."

"Exactly."

Eddie's frustration grew as he spoke.

"I had everything planned."

"Everything."

"Hotel."

"Dinner."

"Flowers."

"Got somebody watching the kids."

Daz raised an eyebrow.

"All five?"

"All five."

Daz whistled.

"That's not babysitting."

"That's disaster relief."

Eddie laughed despite himself.

"Pretty much."

Then the smile disappeared.

"I had the whole thing."

"I wasn't going to tell her until we got there."

"She thought we were just doing dinner."

"I had this..."

He stopped.

Shook his head.

"Doesn't matter."

Dav frowned.

"It matters."

"Not anymore."

Eddie picked up his phone.

"So now it's another..."

He held the imaginary phone against his ear.

"'Happy anniversary, baby.'"

A pause.

"'I love you.'"

Another.

"'I'm sorry I'm not there.'"

Another.

"'We'll celebrate when I get home.'"

He put the imaginary phone down.

"I hate that."

Nobody joked.

"I f***ing hate that."

Rotimi nodded.

"Understandable."

"I miss birthdays."

"School things."

"Anniversaries."

"Family stuff."

"I know that's the business."

"I signed up for it."

"My wife signed up for a lot of it too."

Eddie shook his head.

"...but this one didn't need to happen."

Dav nodded.

"That's the part that pisses me off."

"If something goes wrong..."

"Okay."

"Somebody gets hurt."

"Show gets cancelled."

"Building falls down."

"War starts."

"Whatever."

Daz nodded.

"Building falling down would be inconvenient."

Dav ignored him.

"...but this?"

"Vince woke up and decided Rome sounded exciting."

Dolph shrugged.

"That's Vince."

"That's not a defence."

"I didn't say it was."

Rotimi took another bite.

"Joanna's thrilled."

Eddie looked at him.

"Joanna's always thrilled."

"Joanna would wrestle on the Moon if Vince gave her a spacesuit."

Daz nodded.

"She's probably already designing the gear."

"Blue spacesuit," Dav said.

"Rose on the helmet," Rotimi added.

Eddie finally smiled.

"Zas standing at Mission Control looking confused."

Dolph shook his head.

"That poor man."

They laughed.

For a few moments...

The Roman tour became tolerable.

Then Dolph looked toward the television.

Something had changed.

A wrestling news program.

A photograph filled the screen.

Lars.

At the bar.

Woman in front of him.

His hand-

Very obviously-

Somewhere a married man's hand should not have been.

Nobody at the table spoke.

Daz looked up.

"Oh."

Dav followed his eyes.

His expression hardened.

"Turn that crap off."

Nobody did.

Another photograph appeared.

Lars kissing the woman.

Eddie stared.

Then looked away.

"Idiot."

Dolph shook his head.

"F***ing idiot."

Rotimi sighed.

Daz said nothing.

Dav glanced at him.

"You're quiet."

"What do you want me to say?"

"You're usually not short on material."

Daz stared at the screen.

Then-

"He f***ed up."

Simple.

Nobody disagreed.

Rotimi folded his arms.

"We don't actually know what happened."

Dolph looked at him.

"We know enough."

"No."

Rotimi shook his head.

"I mean before."

"The fight."

"Whatever happened with Sarah."

"Why Lars left."

"Why he went out with Sven."

"We don't know any of that."

Eddie nodded.

"Doesn't matter."

Rotimi looked at him.

Eddie shrugged.

"Not for this."

He pointed toward the television.

"Maybe Sarah screamed at him."

"Maybe she told him she hates him."

"Maybe she threw his stuff out the window."

"I don't know."

"Maybe Lars had the worst night of his life."

Eddie shook his head.

"You still don't do that."

Dav nodded.

"Exactly."

Rotimi held up a hand.

"I'm not defending him."

"I know."

"I'm just saying we don't know what happened."

"...and I'm saying there's nothing Sarah could've said that made Lars put his hand up another woman's skirt."

Silence.

Rotimi nodded.

"Fair."

Dolph leaned back.

"I don't understand it."

Daz looked at him.

"Cheating?"

"Yeah."

Daz laughed.

"Of all people..."

Dolph frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Say it."

"No."

Daz grinned.

"Dolph Wrangler discussing sexual restraint is just..."

Dolph stared.

"I'm not married."

Daz raised both hands.

"Exactly."

Dav laughed.

Dolph pointed across the table.

"Neither are you."

Daz smiled proudly.

"Correct."

Eddie shook his head.

"That doesn't mean anything."

He gestured toward himself.

"You think I don't like women?"

Daz laughed.

"Eddie..."

"I love women."

"We know."

"I really love women."

"We know."

Eddie grinned.

"I enjoy the attention."

Dav nodded.

"That's putting it mildly."

"I go through the curtain and women are screaming."

"They're reaching for me."

"They're throwing things at me."

Daz smiled.

"Sometimes underwear."

"Sometimes."

Eddie shrugged.

"I'm not dead."

"I like it."

"I like knowing women think I'm attractive."

"I like flirting."

"I like playing Eddie Pineda."

He tapped his chest.

"...but then I go home."

"My wife's there."

"My kids are there."

"That's my life."

Eddie shook his head.

"I made that commitment."

"Nobody forced me."

"Nobody put a gun to my head and said, 'Eddie, marry this woman and make five children.'"

Daz frowned.

"Five still seems excessive."

Eddie laughed.

"Shut up."

Daz smiled.

Eddie continued.

"I'm sore when I get home."

"I'm tired."

"Sometimes I can barely move."

"...but if the dishes need doing..."

"I do the dishes."

"If the floor needs cleaning..."

"I clean."

"If somebody needs food..."

"I cook."

"If one of the kids needs something..."

"I do what I can."

He shrugged.

"I'm their dad."

"I'm her husband."

"That's the deal."

Dav nodded slowly.

"Same."

Daz looked at him.

Dav frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You've become so respectable."

Dav smiled.

"You should try it."

"No."

"Didn't think so."

Dav leaned back.

"I used to be horrible."

Dolph looked at him.

"With women?"

"Absolutely."

Daz laughed.

"Can confirm."

Dav pointed at him.

"You were worse."

"Am worse."

"Fair."

Dav continued.

"I loved being single."

"Different woman every week."

"Sometimes every night."

Daz raised his drink.

"Those were the days."

"...and then I met my wife."

Dav shrugged.

"That was it."

Dolph frowned.

"Just like that?"

"No."

Dav laughed.

"It was terrifying."

"I spent about six months convincing myself I wasn't settling down."

Daz nodded.

"He was pathetic."

"I was."

"He'd disappear from parties to call her."

"I did."

"He bought her flowers."

"I did."

"He once left a club at eleven because she wasn't feeling well."

Dav stared at him.

"You remember all this?"

Daz looked offended.

"I lost my tag-team partner."

Dav laughed.

"You survived."

"Barely."

Dav looked back toward the television.

"...but I chose it."

"Marriage."

"Kids."

"That life."

"I don't get to wake up ten years later and pretend nobody told me what it meant."

Daz became quieter.

That landed differently coming from Dav.

Then Eddie looked at him.

"What about you?"

Daz smiled.

"What about me?"

"You've cheated."

Daz's smile disappeared.

"Yeah."

Dolph looked surprised.

"Really?"

Daz stared at him.

"Dolph."

"Right."

Daz leaned back.

"Yeah."

"A few times."

He scratched his chin.

"Not proud of it."

Rotimi looked at him.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because I was selfish."

That answer came quickly.

No joke.

No excuse.

Daz shrugged.

"Wanted somebody else."

"Didn't want to break up with the person I was with."

"Wanted both."

"So I took both."

He nodded toward the television.

"Wrong."

Simple.

Then-

"...but I never got married."

Eddie frowned.

"That doesn't make cheating okay."

"I didn't say it did."

Daz shook his head.

"I'm saying marriage means something different to me."

"If I'm dating somebody..."

"I owe her honesty."

"I owe her respect."

"If we agree we're exclusive..."

"...then I shouldn't cheat."

He shrugged.

"...but marriage?"

Daz became unusually serious.

"That's standing in front of everybody you love and saying..."

"'This is it.'"

"'I'm choosing this person.'"

"'I'm building my life with this person.'"

He looked toward Lars' photograph.

"If I don't want to make that promise..."

"...I don't."

Dav smiled faintly.

"Which is why you're never getting married."

"Exactly."

"...and you're happy?"

Daz grinned.

"Ecstatic."

Dolph laughed.

"Nobody doubts that."

Daz's grin widened.

"My documentary has three seasons."

Dav covered his face.

"Oh gosh."

"Four coming."

"No."

"Streaming internationally."

"We know."

"Critically acclaimed."

"It is not critically acclaimed."

"People watch it."

"That's not the same thing."

Rotimi shook his head, smiling.

"I still don't understand how they made an entire documentary series about your sex life."

Daz pointed at him.

"Because I am culturally significant."

Dav stared.

"You're a public-health study."

Daz burst out laughing.

Eddie nearly choked on his drink.

Even Dolph smiled.

Then the television changed photographs again.

Sarah.

An older photograph.

From her wrestling days.

The laughter died.

Eddie looked down at his phone.

"I messaged her."

"So did I," Dav said.

Rotimi nodded.

"Me too."

Dolph shrugged.

"Same."

Everyone looked at Daz.

He frowned.

"What?"

Dav stared.

"Did you?"

"Of course I did."

Daz looked almost offended.

"I love Sarah."

Then immediately-

"Not like that."

Dav smiled.

"Thank you for clarifying."

"You people."

Daz shook his head.

"She's family."

That silenced the table again.

Because she was.

Not literally.

Not to them.

...but wrestling had its own strange definition of family.

You travelled together.

Bled together.

Got hurt together.

Spent birthdays together because you couldn't spend them with your actual families.

Watched marriages begin.

Watched marriages end.

Watched children grow up through photographs sent from airports.

Sarah had been part of that world for years.

They knew her.

They loved her.

...and now...

Nobody knew what to say to her.

"She answer you?" Eddie asked.

Daz shook his head.

"Heart."

"That's it."

Dav nodded.

"Same."

Rotimi looked at his phone.

"She said thank you."

Dolph shrugged.

"I got nothing."

Eddie smiled faintly.

"Give her time."

Dolph nodded.

"I know."

Then his expression changed.

"What happens when Lars comes back?"

Nobody answered immediately.

Dolph looked around the table.

"We're going to have to work with him."

Dav sighed.

"Yep."

"What if one of us has to wrestle him?"

Rotimi frowned.

"You wrestle him."

Dolph looked at him.

"That's it?"

"What else?"

Dolph leaned forward.

"You know what would've happened twenty years ago."

Dav immediately groaned.

"No."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"Locker room would've handled it."

Dav stared.

"Handled it how?"

Dolph shrugged.

"You know."

"No."

Dav shook his head.

"Say it."

Dolph hesitated.

"Maybe somebody works a little stiff."

"Maybe Lars takes a few extra shots."

"Maybe somebody teaches him that you don't treat people like that."

Dav stared at him.

"That's stupid."

Dolph frowned.

"Come on."

"No."

Dav pointed at him.

"You know how much of that old-school bulls*** I dealt with?"

Dolph said nothing.

"Hazing."

"Receipts."

"Guys deciding they were locker-room judges."

"Some veteran decides you disrespected somebody..."

"...so now you're supposed to stand there while he beats the tar out of you."

Daz nodded slowly.

Dav continued.

"...and everybody calls it justice because that's easier than admitting it's assault."

Dolph frowned.

"I'm not saying beat him unconscious."

"Then where's the line?"

Dolph said nothing.

"One stiff shot?"

"Three?"

"Ten?"

"Do we vote?"

"Does Vince appoint an official locker-room executioner?"

Daz raised his hand.

"I nominate Dolph."

Dolph glared.

Daz lowered it.

Dav shook his head.

"Lars did something crappy."

"That doesn't give us permission to do something crappy."

Dolph leaned back.

"So nothing happens."

"I didn't say that."

"What happens?"

Dav gestured toward the screen.

"This."

"People know."

"Sarah knows."

"His family knows."

"The fans know."

"The locker room knows."

"He's going to have to live with that."

Rotimi nodded.

"...and Sarah decides what happens to their marriage."

"Exactly."

Dolph frowned.

"...and we just work with him."

Nobody looked happy about that.

Eddie sighed.

"If Vince tells us to."

Daz looked toward him.

"You don't want to?"

"No."

Eddie shook his head.

"I don't."

"Not right now."

Rotimi nodded.

"Neither do I."

Dav looked around.

"Same."

Daz shrugged.

"I don't want to either."

They looked at Dolph.

He stared at the television.

"No."

He shook his head.

"F*** him."

Dav sighed.

"...but if Vince books it..."

Dolph's jaw tightened.

"...we work."

Eddie nodded.

Professional.

That was the ugly part.

They didn't have to like Lars.

They didn't have to forgive Lars.

They didn't have to invite Lars to lunch.

They didn't have to listen to his explanation.

...but if Vince McGeady walked into the Academy tomorrow and announced—

EDDIE PINEDA VERSUS LARS ERIKSSON

-or-

DAV AND DAZ REUNITE AGAINST LARS AND SVEN

Daz immediately looked at Dav.

Dav saw it.

"No."

"I didn't say anything."

"You thought it."

Daz grinned.

"The people want it."

"No."

"Imagine the pop."

"No."

"One night."

"No."

"Rome."

"No."

"'The Biggest Show Of The Year.'"

"NO."

Daz laughed.

Eddie shook his head.

"Twenty years."

"Twenty years," Dav muttered.

Dolph smiled.

Then the smile faded.

"Still."

He looked around the table.

"I don't want Lars."

Neither did anyone else.

Eddie stared at the screen.

Then sighed.

"Doesn't matter what we want."

Rotimi looked at him.

"Vince."

Eddie nodded.

"Vince."

Daz raised his drink.

"To employee autonomy."

Dav raised his.

"We don't have any."

"That's the joke."

Rotimi raised his cup.

Dolph followed.

Eddie reluctantly joined them.

Five cups met in the middle.

Then Daz looked at Dav.

"So..."

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Reunion."

Daz smiled.

"Reunion."

"No."

From another table-

"DAV AND DAZ!"

Daz immediately raised both arms.

"DAV AND DAZ!"

Dav dropped his head onto the table.

The chant spread.

"DAV AND DAZ!"

"DAV AND DAZ!"

"DAV AND DAZ!"

Eddie laughed.

Rotimi joined in.

Dolph started pounding the table.

Dav remained facedown.

Daz threw an arm around him.

"My brother!"

"Get off me."

"My partner!"

"We are not partners."

"My best friend!"

"Unfortunately."

The chant continued.

For a few minutes...

Rome could wait.

Lars could wait.

Vince could wait.

They were wrestlers having lunch.

Friends giving one another crap.

...and somewhere beneath the jokes...

Five men who had all made very different choices about women, marriage, sex and family...

...had somehow arrived at exactly the same conclusion.

Whatever had happened between Lars and Sarah...

Whatever Lars had been feeling...

Whatever Sarah had said...

Whatever came next...

Lars had made a promise.

Then he'd broken it.

Nobody at that table wanted to punish him.

Nobody wanted revenge.

They simply didn't particularly want to stand beside him either.

Unfortunately...

In the WFE...

That decision belonged to Vince.

---

Sarah looked better.

Not good.

Better.

There was a difference.

Her eyes were still red.

Her hair was still a mess.

She was still wrapped in the same blanket she'd apparently decided was now part of her permanent wardrobe.

...but when Joanna answered the video call this time, Sarah wasn't actively sobbing.

That counted as progress.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Joanna smiled.

"You look better."

Sarah stared.

"That sounded like an insult."

"It wasn't."

"It sounded like one."

"You looked like death last time."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Sarah smiled.

Small.

Real.

Joanna noticed immediately.

"So..."

She shifted on the hotel bed.

"How are you?"

Sarah thought about it.

"Bad."

Joanna nodded.

"...but better."

"Good."

"I think."

"Still good."

Sarah adjusted the blanket around herself.

Fido immediately appeared from somewhere beside her and shoved his head underneath Sarah's arm.

Sarah looked down.

"Yes."

She scratched his ears.

"I know."

Joanna smiled.

"My boy."

Fido's ears perked up at Joanna's voice.

Sarah looked at the phone.

"He's basically attached to me now."

"Good."

"He follows me everywhere."

"Good."

"I went to the bathroom yesterday and he sat outside the door."

"Good."

Sarah stared.

"You're enjoying this."

"Very much."

Fido rested his head against Sarah.

Sarah smiled.

Then-

"My mum's here."

"Oh!"

"Yeah."

"Thank goodness."

Sarah nodded.

"She came over yesterday."

"She's helping with Sophia and Peter."

"Cooking."

"Cleaning."

"Whatever."

Sarah looked exhausted just listing it.

"She took them out for a few hours today."

"That's why it's actually quiet."

Joanna smiled.

"Good."

"I needed quiet."

"I bet."

Sarah leaned her head back.

"People have been really nice."

Joanna's smile widened.

"The wrestling people?"

"Everybody."

Sarah picked up her phone.

"I've gotten..."

She scrolled.

"I don't even know."

"Messages from people I haven't talked to in years."

"Flowers."

"Food."

"Somebody sent diapers."

Joanna laughed.

"That's useful."

"Very."

Sarah continued scrolling.

"Georgia called."

"Carly called."

"Eddie messaged me."

"Rotimi."

"Dav."

"Dolph."

Joanna raised an eyebrow.

"Dolph?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

Sarah smiled.

"'Thinking about you. Don't feel like you need to answer.'"

Joanna's expression softened.

"That's actually really sweet."

"I know."

"I didn't answer."

"That's okay."

"I sent him a heart."

"That counts."

Sarah continued.

"Joey Ace sent me this enormous fruit basket."

"Of course he did."

"I don't know why there's a pineapple."

"Maybe he likes pineapple."

"Maybe."

Sarah shrugged.

"Somebody from the Imperial Academy sent me cupcakes but nobody put their name on them."

Joanna gasped.

"Mystery cupcakes."

"I know."

"Don't eat them."

Sarah stared.

"They came from the Academy."

"That doesn't make them safe."

Sarah laughed.

"Joanna."

"I'm serious. Wrestlers are disgusting."

"You are a wrestler."

"Exactly."

Sarah laughed again.

Joanna watched her.

That was twice.

Good.

Sarah looked back down at the phone.

"I think the highlight was Daz."

Joanna immediately smiled.

"Oh no."

Sarah's smile widened.

"He sent me a nude."

Joanna burst out laughing.

Across the room-

Zas looked up from his phone.

He had been sitting quietly in a chair for nearly the entire conversation.

Phone held in both hands.

Eyes narrowed.

Deep concentration.

Every few seconds-

Tap.

Tap.

Swipe.

Tap.

Candy Crush.

He looked toward Joanna.

"What?"

Joanna was still laughing.

Sarah started laughing too.

Zas lowered his phone.

"What did she say?"

Joanna tried to compose herself.

"Daz sent Sarah a nude picture."

Zas stared.

Sarah waved from the screen.

"Hi, Zas."

"Hello."

Zas looked at Joanna.

Then Sarah.

Then Joanna again.

"...Why?"

Sarah laughed.

"Because he's Daz."

Zas stared.

This explained absolutely nothing.

Joanna turned the phone slightly so Zas could join the conversation.

"You remember Daz?"

"The man you told me about?"

"Probably."

"The one who used to wrestle with Dav?"

"Yes."

"The strange one."

Joanna frowned.

"You're going to have to narrow that down."

Zas considered this.

"The man with the documentary about his sex life."

"That's Daz."

Zas nodded.

"Yes."

He looked toward Sarah.

"He sent you a nude photograph of himself."

"Yep."

"...because you are sad."

"Yep."

Zas frowned.

Sarah started laughing again.

Joanna grinned.

"You have to understand Daz."

"I am trying."

"He's..."

Joanna paused.

How did one explain Darren Goodman?

"Daz."

Zas stared.

"Again, that explains nothing."

Sarah laughed.

Joanna tried again.

"He's weird."

"I established that."

"Campy."

"Yes."

"Flamboyant."

"Yes."

"Punk."

"I don't know what that means."

"We'll get there."

"Okay."

"...and somehow one of the sweetest men you'll ever meet."

Sarah nodded.

"He really is."

Zas looked between them.

"...and he sends naked pictures to sad women."

Sarah covered her mouth.

Joanna burst out laughing.

"No!"

"You just said-"

"No."

Joanna shook her head.

"Not like that."

Zas' expression suggested that not like that was going to require considerable explanation.

Sarah stepped in.

"It's a joke between us."

Zas looked at her.

"A longstanding joke."

"How long-standing?"

Sarah thought.

"Years."

Zas blinked.

Joanna laughed.

"Okay."

She shifted on the bed.

"Here's what happened."

Zas put his phone down.

Candy Crush could wait.

Joanna continued.

"Women get pictures from men."

Zas nodded.

"Yes."

"No."

Joanna stared.

"Pictures."

Zas frowned.

Then-

Understanding.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Zas looked disgusted.

"Without asking?"

"Constantly."

Sarah nodded.

"Constantly."

Joanna pointed toward herself.

"Me too."

Zas looked at her.

"You?"

Joanna laughed.

"Zas."

His expression changed.

Not angry.

Not exactly.

Just...

Unhappy with humanity.

"Men send you photographs of their-"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Joanna shrugged.

"Because men."

Sarah nodded.

"Because men."

Zas stared at both of them.

"I am a man."

"Congratulations," Joanna said.

"I have never done this."

"Also congratulations."

Zas frowned.

Sarah laughed.

Joanna continued.

"Anyway, years ago Sarah was complaining about it."

Sarah nodded.

"I was furious."

"She was ranting backstage."

"'Why do men think I want to see this?'"

"'Why do they think this works?'"

"'Why do they think I'm going to open my phone and suddenly fall in love with them?'"

Sarah smiled.

"Something like that."

"Daz was sitting there listening."

Sarah immediately started laughing.

Joanna continued.

"...and eventually Daz says..."

She lowered her voice into an imitation.

"'What if I sent you one?'"

Sarah laughed harder.

Zas stared.

"...and you said yes?"

Sarah shook her head.

"I think I said, 'At least yours would be funny.'"

Joanna pointed.

"Exactly."

Sarah nodded.

"...so he sent one."

Zas stared.

"Immediately?"

"Pretty much."

Joanna laughed.

"Daz doesn't overthink things."

"I am beginning to understand this."

Sarah wiped her eyes.

The tears this time were from laughter.

"It made me laugh."

"Then one of the other women heard about it."

Joanna continued.

"Then another."

Sarah nodded.

"Then people started asking."

Zas looked increasingly confused.

"Asking Daz to send them naked photographs."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Joanna shrugged.

"Because it became a thing."

"A thing."

"A wrestling thing."

Zas leaned back.

"I do not understand wrestling."

Joanna grinned.

"You haven't even started."

Sarah laughed.

"He's going to be traumatized."

"I survived an avalanche."

Joanna nodded.

"Give wrestling time."

Zas stared.

Sarah laughed again.

Then sighed.

The laughter faded.

Not completely.

Just enough.

"It helped."

Joanna's expression softened.

"Daz?"

Sarah nodded.

"All of them."

She looked at her phone.

"Everybody."

Sarah swallowed.

"I've spent so much time feeling like..."

She stopped.

Joanna waited.

"...like Lars leaving meant there was something wrong with me."

Joanna frowned.

"Sarah."

"I know."

Sarah shook her head.

"I know that's stupid."

"It's not stupid."

"It feels stupid."

Sarah scratched Fido behind the ears.

"...but then you get all these messages."

"People checking on you."

"People you haven't talked to in years telling you they love you."

"People sending food."

"People sending flowers."

"People sending..."

She smiled.

"...their genitals."

Joanna burst out laughing again.

Zas closed his eyes.

"I walked into that."

"Yes, you did."

Sarah smiled.

"It just reminds me..."

She looked down at Fido.

"...I have people."

Joanna nodded.

"You do."

"A lot."

"I know."

Sarah swallowed.

Her eyes watered slightly.

"...but I still cry."

"That's okay."

"A lot."

"That's okay too."

"I cried this morning."

Joanna nodded.

"Then I stopped."

"Good."

"Then I cried again."

"Also okay."

Sarah smiled weakly.

"Then Mum told me Peter needed changing."

Joanna laughed.

"Children don't respect emotional crises."

"No."

"They really don't."

Sarah wiped beneath one eye.

"...but Mum's helping."

"Fido's back to loving me."

Fido's tail thumped.

"...and..."

Sarah turned the phone slightly.

Behind her-

A door.

An actual door.

Joanna's eyes widened.

"YOU HAVE A DOOR!"

Sarah laughed.

"I have a door."

"An actual door!"

"Yes."

"Not a gate!"

"No."

Joanna threw both hands into the air.

"YES!"

Zas looked toward the screen.

"Is that the door they originally promised?"

Sarah stared at it.

"I think."

"You think?"

"Don't start."

Zas nodded.

"Understood."

Sarah sighed.

"It took..."

She counted mentally.

"...I don't even know how many calls."

"Management finally answered."

"Then somebody came."

"Then somebody else came."

"Then they said they needed another contractor."

"Then he came."

"Then the first contractor came back."

"Then nobody knew what the other person had done."

Joanna groaned.

"Oh no."

"Then somebody removed something."

Zas frowned.

"What?"

"I don't know."

"Then somebody installed something."

"What?"

"I don't know."

"Then somebody tested the sensor."

"Did it work?"

"No."

Joanna covered her face.

Sarah continued.

"Then they came back."

"Then it worked."

"Then it stopped."

"No."

"Then it worked again."

Joanna lowered her hands.

"Does it work now?"

Sarah looked toward the door.

"...yes."

A pause.

"I think."

Joanna stared.

Sarah stared back.

Neither spoke.

Then Sarah shrugged.

"It's been three days."

Joanna nodded slowly.

"That's promising."

"I haven't gotten another notice."

"Very promising."

"Nobody's knocked on my door at one-thirty in the morning."

"Excellent."

"Nobody's removed my door."

"Progress!"

Sarah smiled.

"I don't know if it's over."

"...but I've had peace for a few days."

Joanna nodded.

"Take it."

"I am."

Sarah leaned against the couch.

Fido immediately adjusted himself so more of his body touched her.

Joanna noticed.

"Look at him."

Sarah smiled.

"He won't leave me."

"Good boy."

Fido's tail thumped.

Sarah kissed the top of his head.

"He's been really good."

Zas smiled faintly.

Then Joanna asked the question both of them had been avoiding.

"...Lars?"

Sarah's smile disappeared.

She shook her head.

"No."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Joanna frowned.

"No call?"

"No."

"Message?"

"No."

Sarah swallowed.

"I don't know where he is."

Joanna didn't push.

Sarah stared down at Fido.

"I don't know what I'm going to say when he comes back."

"You don't need to know yet."

Sarah nodded.

"I keep remembering what Zas said."

Zas looked toward the phone.

Sarah smiled faintly.

"Love him..."

"...or need him."

Zas nodded.

"Yes."

"I still don't know."

"Then continue thinking."

Sarah sighed.

"I hate thinking."

Joanna smiled.

"So does Zas."

Zas frowned.

"I think constantly."

"You play Candy Crush constantly."

"That requires thought."

Joanna looked at his phone.

"What level are you on?"

Zas immediately picked it up.

"One thousand, nine hundred and eighty-seven."

Joanna stared.

Sarah stared.

Zas looked between them.

"What?"

Sarah started laughing.

Joanna shook her head.

"You need help."

"I am winning."

"There is no winning Candy Crush."

"Then why are there levels?"

Joanna opened her mouth.

Stopped.

"...I don't know."

Zas smiled triumphantly.

Sarah laughed again.

Joanna smiled.

There.

That was the point.

Not fixing Sarah.

Not pretending everything was fine.

Just...

Making her laugh.

One stupid thing at a time.

Eventually Sarah yawned.

Joanna noticed.

"Go sleep."

"I might."

"Your mum has the kids?"

"For another hour."

"Sleep."

Sarah nodded.

"I'll try."

"We love you."

Sarah's eyes watered again.

"I love you too."

Zas leaned toward the phone.

"We are here if you need us."

"Thank you."

Sarah smiled.

"Both of you."

Then she looked at Joanna.

"...and tell Daz his picture worked."

Joanna laughed.

"You tell him."

"I sent him a heart."

"That's enough."

Sarah smiled.

"Bye."

"Bye, Sar."

"Goodbye," Zas said.

The call ended.

Silence.

Joanna put her phone down.

Then-

Zas looked at her.

Joanna noticed immediately.

"What?"

Zas hesitated.

"Has Daz ever sent you one?"

Joanna stared.

Then stuck her tongue out at him.

Zas frowned.

"That does not answer my question."

Joanna pulled her tongue back in.

"Maybe."

Zas stared.

Joanna smiled innocently.

"Joanna."

"Yes."

Zas' eyebrows rose.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes."

Zas stared at her.

Joanna started laughing.

"It was years ago."

Zas looked down.

"Hm."

Joanna's smile faded slightly.

"You don't like that."

Zas considered his answer.

"I am not sure."

"Okay."

He looked at her.

"I know it is a joke."

"Yes."

"I understand that."

"Okay."

"...but I am still deciding whether I like knowing another man has sent you a photograph of himself naked."

Joanna nodded.

"That's fair."

Zas looked mildly surprised.

"No argument?"

"No."

She shrugged.

"If it bothers you, I'll tell him not to do it anymore."

Zas looked at her.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"You wouldn't be angry?"

"Why would I be angry?"

Joanna moved closer.

"You're not telling me I can't talk to Daz."

"You're not telling me I can't be friends with him."

"You're telling me something makes you uncomfortable."

She shrugged.

"That's allowed."

Zas thought.

Joanna waited.

Then-

"No."

She frowned.

"No?"

"Don't tell him."

Joanna blinked.

"Are you sure?"

Zas nodded.

"I trust you."

Joanna's expression softened.

"...and I trust what you have told me about Daz."

Zas paused.

"Although I still think he is very strange."

Joanna smiled.

"He is."

"Extremely strange."

"Yes."

"...but..."

Zas looked toward Sarah's vanished image on the phone.

"He made her laugh."

Joanna nodded.

"He did."

"That matters."

"It does."

Zas thought again.

"...and I suppose I admire something about him."

Joanna's eyebrows rose.

"Daz?"

"Yes."

"You're admiring Daz?"

"Do not make me regret saying this."

Joanna grinned.

"Never."

Zas continued.

"He seems very certain about who he is."

Joanna's smile softened.

"He is."

"He does not pretend to be something else simply because other people expect it."

"No."

"He seems loyal to his friends."

"Very."

Zas nodded.

"I respect that."

Joanna leaned against him.

"So you like Daz."

"I did not say that."

"You admire him."

"Somewhat."

"You trust him."

"Within limits."

Joanna smiled.

"You like him."

Zas sighed.

"I have never met him."

"Yet."

Zas looked at her.

Joanna's grin widened.

"You realize you're going on tour with the WFE now."

Zas' expression changed.

Slowly.

Joanna laughed.

"Oh, honey."

"What?"

"You think Daz is weird."

Zas stared.

Joanna patted his chest.

"You're in for such a surprise."

Zas considered that.

Then picked up his phone.

Candy Crush reappeared.

Joanna stared.

"That's your response?"

"I am preparing myself."

"With Candy Crush."

"It brings order."

Joanna laughed.

Zas swiped a candy across the screen.

A cascade followed.

He smiled.

Joanna rested her head against his shoulder.

For a little while...

Neither said anything.

Sarah still had a broken heart.

Lars was still gone.

Nobody knew what would happen when he returned.

...but Sarah had her mother.

She had Fido.

She had a door.

She had friends.

She had people sending flowers.

People sending food.

People sending messages.

...and, apparently...

One very specific person sending something else entirely.

Zas shook his head.

"Wrestlers."

Joanna smiled against his shoulder.

"You haven't seen anything yet."

---

The meeting had reached a conclusion.

A reasonable conclusion.

A professional conclusion.

A conclusion arrived at by six people with decades of combined experience in professional wrestling.

Which meant...

It probably had no chance whatsoever.

Triple X sat at the head of the conference table.

Cathy Greenwall sat beside him.

Joey Ace was halfway through a cup of coffee.

Aiden McGeady had several pages of notes spread in front of him.

Rob Sinclair leaned back in his chair.

Daniel Miles had been unusually quiet.

On the screen behind them-

Lars Eriksson.

Not smiling.

Not posing.

Just a promotional photograph.

Beside him-

Sven.

Triple X looked around the room.

"So."

Nobody spoke.

He tried again.

"Does anybody here actually want Lars on television right now?"

Nothing.

Triple X nodded.

"Good meeting."

Rob laughed.

Cathy didn't.

"I don't think there's anyone in the locker room who wants anything to do with him."

Daniel nodded.

"I was downstairs earlier."

"Bad?"

"Nobody threatened him."

"He's not here."

"Exactly."

Joey took another drink.

"People are angry."

Aiden frowned.

"More than angry."

"They love Sarah."

Cathy nodded.

"That's the problem."

She gestured toward the screen.

"Lars didn't cheat on some woman nobody knows."

"Sarah worked here."

"Trained here."

"Travelled with half these people."

"Some of them watched her and Joanna grow up."

Rob folded his arms.

"There's probably not a wrestler in the building who doesn't have an opinion."

Daniel finally spoke.

"...and opinions are fine."

Triple X looked toward him.

Daniel continued.

"What worries me is putting Lars in a ring with somebody who's angry."

Cathy nodded.

"Exactly."

"I don't care how professional they are."

Daniel leaned forward.

"You put two people together and one of them genuinely hates the other..."

"...that's when things get stupid."

"Stiff shot."

"Accidental receipt."

"Somebody decides to send a message."

Rob sighed.

"We've already heard people talking about that."

Triple X frowned.

"Who?"

Rob waved him off.

"Nobody serious."

"Yet."

Cathy shook her head.

"So don't create the opportunity."

Joey finally put down his coffee.

"What are we saying?"

"Suspension?"

"No," Triple X said immediately.

"Why not?"

"Because then we're officially punishing him for cheating on his wife."

Joey shrugged.

"Wouldn't exactly break my heart."

"It would break Legal's."

Aiden nodded.

"...and probably Lars' contract."

Cathy added-

"We're not his church."

"We're not his marriage counsellor."

"We're his employer."

Rob looked toward the screen.

"So what do we do?"

Triple X thought.

Then-

"Nothing."

Joey frowned.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Triple X pointed toward Lars.

"Leave him home."

"Not suspended."

"Not fired."

"Not punished."

"Just..."

He shrugged.

"...not booked."

Cathy nodded immediately.

"That's where I'm at."

Aiden looked through his notes.

"How long?"

"Weeks."

"Maybe."

"However long it takes."

Triple X continued.

"Let people cool down."

"Let Lars deal with whatever the hell is happening in his personal life."

"Let Sarah breathe."

"Let the locker room stop fantasizing about killing him."

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

"Metaphorically."

Triple X looked at him.

"...Mostly."

Rob laughed.

Cathy didn't.

"We don't need him right now."

She looked toward the booking sheets.

"The tag division survives without Lars."

"We have teams."

"We have programs."

"We have half a Roman tour already thrown together."

"Just remove him from creative plans."

Joey nodded.

"Then if things calm down..."

"...we bring him back."

"Quietly," Aiden said.

"Exactly."

"No big redemption angle."

"No exploitation."

"No..."

Cathy stopped.

She looked toward the door.

Everyone followed her eyes.

Silence.

Triple X frowned.

"What?"

Cathy continued staring.

"I suddenly have a terrible feeling."

Joey looked toward the door.

"Why?"

"Because we just agreed on something sensible."

Rob laughed.

"Don't."

The door opened.

Everyone groaned.

Vince entered.

Smiling.

Carrying bags.

Several bags.

Large bags.

Another employee followed him carrying cardboard trays loaded with coffee containers.

Vince looked around the room.

"Good morning!"

Nobody answered.

Vince frowned.

"That bad?"

Triple X stared at the bags.

"What's in those?"

Vince immediately brightened.

"Doughnuts."

Joey sat straighter.

"Go on."

"Breakfast sandwiches."

Joey's eyes widened.

"Go on."

"Coffee."

Joey stood.

Cathy grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait."

Joey looked at her.

"What?"

Cathy narrowed her eyes at Vince.

"What's the catch?"

Vince looked offended.

"Catch?"

"You brought food."

"I bring food."

"No."

Triple X shook his head.

"You send food."

Rob nodded.

"You don't personally carry doughnuts."

Aiden leaned toward Daniel.

"They've learned."

Daniel nodded.

Joey was still staring at the bag.

"I don't care."

He pulled free of Cathy.

"I'm willing to hear the catch while eating."

Vince placed everything onto the table.

Joey immediately opened the first bag.

"Oh."

He smiled.

"Chocolate."

Cathy stared at Vince.

"Vince."

"Yes?"

"What do you want?"

Vince poured himself coffee.

Then-

"Lars and Sven."

Silence.

Joey stopped chewing.

Triple X closed his eyes.

Rob leaned back.

Aiden stared at Vince.

Daniel looked toward the ceiling.

Cathy sighed.

"No."

Vince smiled.

"I want them on the first plane to Ercolanum."

The entire room groaned.

Joey groaned too.

Then took another bite.

Triple X rubbed his forehead.

"Vince."

"What?"

"We just spent forty minutes discussing why Lars should not be on television."

"Good."

Triple X stared.

"Good?"

"That means you've thought about him."

Cathy closed her eyes.

"That's not how that works."

Vince pulled out a chair.

Sat.

Took a doughnut.

"Here's how I see it."

Nobody wanted to hear how Vince saw it.

Vince continued anyway.

"Everybody hates Lars."

Cathy stared.

"Yes."

"Everybody hates Sven."

Rob frowned.

"Not really."

"They will."

"Why?"

Vince smiled.

There it was.

The smile.

Triple X knew that smile.

Cathy knew that smile.

Everyone in the room knew that smile.

It meant-

I have solved wrestling.

Vince leaned forward.

"Raiders."

Silence.

Daniel frowned.

"What?"

"Norse raiders."

Rob stared.

Aiden slowly lowered his pen.

Vince continued.

"Lars."

"Sven."

"Two giant Norsemen."

"They come into town."

"They take what they want."

"They drink."

"They fight."

"They destroy people."

Triple X stared.

"...and?"

Vince smiled wider.

"They steal the women."

Cathy's eyes widened.

"No."

Vince held up a hand.

"Not literally."

"Oh, good."

"They don't kidnap anybody."

"Wonderful."

"The women go willingly."

Cathy stared.

Vince gestured excitedly.

"That's the gimmick."

"They come into town..."

"...and every woman wants them."

"They're dangerous."

"They're arrogant."

"They're irresistible."

Daniel stared.

"Because Lars cheated on Sarah."

"Exactly!"

Daniel closed his eyes.

"I shouldn't have asked."

Vince stood.

He was fully into it now.

"Think about the entrance."

"Smoke."

"Drums."

"Fire."

"Women."

Triple X frowned.

"Women?"

"Women."

"Following them?"

"Following them."

"Why?"

"Because they stole them."

Cathy raised one finger.

"You just said they don't steal them."

Vince sighed.

"Metaphorically."

"That's somehow worse."

Joey had moved onto a breakfast sandwich.

He watched like someone enjoying dinner theatre.

Vince continued.

"They're heels."

"Monster heels."

"We build the entire tag division around them."

"They come in."

"Destroy everybody."

"Take the women."

"Leave."

Rob frowned.

"What women?"

"Local women."

"In every city?"

"Exactly."

Aiden looked disturbed.

"So each week..."

"...Lars and Sven arrive..."

"...beat somebody up..."

"...and leave with women."

Vince pointed.

"Now you've got it."

Aiden stared.

"I wasn't endorsing it."

Vince sat again.

Triple X leaned forward.

"Vince."

"Yeah?"

"Sarah is one of ours."

Vince's expression softened slightly.

"I know."

"People are furious."

"I know."

"Nobody wants to work with Lars."

"I know."

"So your solution..."

Triple X stared.

"...is to make Lars' adultery his wrestling gimmick."

Vince thought.

"Not adultery."

Cathy groaned.

"What word would you prefer?"

"Virility."

Daniel covered his face.

Joey nearly choked.

Rob started laughing despite himself.

Cathy stared at Vince.

"Virility."

"Yes."

"You're going to market Lars' infidelity as virility."

"He's a heel!"

Vince spread his hands.

"We're not saying he's good."

"We're saying he's terrible."

"People hate him."

"Good."

"We want them to hate him."

Triple X frowned.

"Not like this."

Vince immediately responded-

"Why not?"

"Because there's real pain involved."

"There's always real pain involved."

"No."

Triple X shook his head.

"Not like this."

Cathy leaned forward.

"...and that's not even my biggest problem."

Vince looked at her.

"What?"

"Rome."

Silence.

Vince waited.

Cathy stared.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're going to take two men..."

"...dress them as Norse raiders..."

"...have them invade Roman cities..."

"...steal women..."

"...and you're starting this storyline in the Roman Empire?"

Vince smiled.

"Exactly."

Cathy stared.

"Vince."

"What?"

"Do you know anything about Roman history?"

"Of course."

"Then why are we having this conversation?"

Vince frowned.

Cathy continued.

"Rome spent centuries dealing with barbarian incursions."

"Raids."

"Sacks."

"Settlements."

"Wars."

"Whole regions devastated."

"Cities destroyed."

"People enslaved."

"Populations displaced."

"Some of the most traumatic episodes in Roman history revolve around exactly the imagery you're describing."

Vince nodded.

"Yes."

Cathy stopped.

"...Yes?"

"Exactly."

Her eyes widened.

"No."

"The audience understands it."

"NO."

"The heat is already there."

"VINCE."

He smiled.

"We don't have to explain anything."

"The Roman fans see these two Norse barbarians..."

"...they understand immediately."

Cathy stared.

"You are proposing deliberately invoking centuries of Roman cultural trauma..."

"...to get wrestling heat."

Vince thought.

Then-

"When you say it like that..."

"Because that's what you're saying."

Vince took a sip of coffee.

Then shrugged.

"They're heels."

Cathy dropped her head into her hands.

Rob laughed quietly.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was Vince.

Vince continued.

"I'm not fighting Roman history."

"I'm using Roman history."

"That's the point."

Daniel frowned.

"....and what if the Romans don't think it's fun?"

"They're not supposed to."

"No."

Daniel shook his head.

"I mean what if they don't think it's wrestling?"

"What if they think we're insulting them?"

Vince considered that.

"Then we'll adjust."

Cathy looked up.

"After what?"

"A riot?"

"No one's going to riot."

"How do you know?"

"I've promoted wrestling for forty years."

"Rome has existed for two thousand."

Vince paused.

Joey slowly raised his sandwich.

"Point Cathy."

Vince glared at him.

Joey took another bite.

Triple X sighed.

"Let's back up."

"Please."

He pointed toward Lars' photograph.

"The locker room."

Vince nodded.

"What about it?"

"They hate him."

"Good."

"No."

Triple X leaned forward.

"Not storyline hate."

"Real hate."

"I understand."

"No, Vince."

Daniel spoke now.

"People have already talked about working stiff with him."

Vince's expression changed.

That got his attention.

"Who?"

"We're not naming names."

"Why not?"

"Because we're trying to prevent it."

Cathy nodded.

"That's why we decided to leave him off television."

Vince frowned.

"You decided?"

"Recommended."

Cathy smiled bitterly.

"I'm a consultant, remember?"

Vince smiled.

"Good."

Cathy regretted reminding him.

Triple X continued.

"Who works with them?"

Vince looked around.

"What?"

"Your monster heel tag team."

"Who wrestles them?"

Vince shrugged.

"Tag teams."

"Which ones?"

"Any."

"No."

Triple X shook his head.

"That's the problem."

"Nobody wants to."

Vince frowned.

"They work here."

Cathy immediately spoke.

"Careful."

Vince looked at her.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

Vince sighed.

"I'm not forcing anyone into an unsafe situation."

Daniel nodded.

"Good."

"...but I'm also not letting the locker room decide creative because they're angry at someone."

Triple X leaned back.

That...

Was harder to argue.

Vince continued.

"If Lars is unsafe..."

"That's different."

"If someone thinks he'll hurt them..."

"Tell me."

"If Lars can't behave professionally..."

"He's gone."

"...but if the objection is..."

Vince put on an exaggerated voice.

"'I don't like him because he cheated on Sarah.'"

He shrugged.

"That's not enough."

Cathy frowned.

"It's enough for them not to trust him."

"Then we rebuild trust."

"How?"

Vince smiled.

"By working."

Daniel immediately shook his head.

"No."

"What?"

"You don't rebuild trust by putting someone in a physical performance with a person who hates him."

"Fine."

Vince waved a hand.

"We find volunteers."

Silence.

Rob laughed.

"Good luck."

"There'll be somebody."

"Who?"

Vince looked around.

Nobody offered a name.

Joey chewed.

Vince stared at him.

Joey immediately shook his head.

"Don't look at me."

"You don't wrestle."

"Exactly."

Vince sighed.

Aiden finally spoke.

"Can I ask something?"

"Sure."

"Why?"

Vince looked at him.

"Why what?"

"Why do you care this much?"

Aiden gestured toward the screen.

"We can leave Lars home."

"We have a massive roster."

"We have other tag teams."

"We have Roman shows to build."

"Why force this?"

Vince smiled.

Because to Vince...

The answer was obvious.

"Because everybody's talking about him."

Silence.

"Everybody."

Vince pointed toward Lars.

"Wrestling media."

"Sports media."

"Entertainment media."

"People who don't know what a wristlock is know Lars Eriksson's name today."

Cathy frowned.

"For cheating on his wife."

"Yes."

"That's not good publicity."

"It's publicity."

Triple X sighed.

"There it is."

Vince continued.

"I'm not pretending it didn't happen."

"I'm not asking people to cheer him."

"I'm saying..."

He spread his hands.

"...they already hate him."

"So use it."

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

"That's pretty cynical."

Vince nodded.

"Yes."

The room stopped.

Vince rarely admitted that quickly.

He continued.

"...but wrestling is emotion."

"People care about Lars."

"Right now..."

"...they care about punching him in the face."

Vince smiled.

"Give them someone who does it."

Triple X stared.

"You really think this is a main-event act."

"Eventually."

"A tag team built around adultery."

"Raiders."

"Stop correcting that."

Vince smiled.

Cathy sighed.

"What happens if it bombs?"

"It won't."

"Vince."

"What?"

"What happens if it bombs?"

Vince leaned back.

Thought.

Then finally-

"Few weeks."

Cathy narrowed her eyes.

"What about a few weeks?"

"We try it."

"Give it a few weeks."

"If the backlash is too strong..."

"If the Romans hate it in the wrong way..."

"If the locker room refuses to work with them..."

"If the audience doesn't respond..."

He shrugged.

"We kill it."

Triple X stared.

"That easily?"

"Yes."

"You'll admit it failed?"

"No."

Triple X laughed.

Of course.

Vince continued.

"We'll say it evolved."

Cathy rolled her eyes.

"Naturally."

"...but I want the chance."

Vince became serious.

"That's all."

"A few weeks."

"See what happens."

He pointed toward the screen.

"Lars and Sven."

"Norse raiders."

"Monster heels."

"The tag division revolves around stopping them."

"...and every city..."

Joey swallowed his food.

"...they steal women."

Vince pointed at him.

"Exactly."

Cathy glared at Joey.

"What?"

He shrugged.

"I'm following."

Cathy turned back toward Vince.

"...and you're absolutely committed to this."

Vince smiled.

That smile again.

Huge.

Proud.

Certain.

Everyone at the table recognized it.

Triple X looked at Cathy.

Cathy looked at Daniel.

Daniel looked at Rob.

Rob looked at Aiden.

Aiden looked at Joey.

Joey reached for another doughnut.

Triple X sighed.

"Why do we have meetings?"

Cathy leaned back.

"I ask myself that every morning."

Vince frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Vince stood.

"Good."

He clapped his hands.

"First plane to Ercolanum."

Triple X stared.

"We didn't agree."

"I heard your concerns."

"That's not agreement."

"I considered them."

"For how long?"

Vince looked at his watch.

"Several minutes."

Daniel laughed despite himself.

Cathy closed her eyes.

Vince walked toward the door.

Then stopped.

Turned.

"Oh."

Everyone looked.

"Find out whether Lars owns any Viking gear."

Cathy stared.

"He's Swedish."

Vince frowned.

"So?"

"Nothing."

"Good."

Vince opened the door.

Then paused again.

"...and somebody call Sven."

"Tell him not to shave."

Rob stared.

"Anything else?"

Vince thought.

"No."

Then-

"Maybe eyeliner."

Cathy groaned.

Vince left.

The door closed.

Silence.

Long silence.

Joey reached for another doughnut.

Cathy slowly turned toward him.

"You've eaten four."

"They're very good."

Triple X stared at the closed door.

"Did we just put Lars back on television?"

Rob nodded.

"Apparently."

Daniel frowned.

"Did we also make him a Viking?"

Aiden nodded.

"Apparently."

Cathy rubbed both temples.

"...and we're debuting a barbarian-raider gimmick..."

"...in Rome."

Rob nodded.

"Apparently."

Another silence.

Then Joey raised the doughnut.

"At least breakfast was free."

Cathy glared.

"Nothing from Vince is free."

Joey stopped.

Looked at the doughnut.

Then toward the door.

His expression changed.

Slowly.

"Oh."

Triple X sighed.

"Now he gets it."

Joey still ate the doughnut.