Set.

[Lord Blake]

/SET.

The Uber pulls up outside Monarch Nightclub and Lord Blake falls out of the backseat onto the sidewalk, his red Solo cup somehow not spilling a drop. From the other side Aiden Van't Hoff stumbles out and meets Lord close to the front of the line. They push and shove their ways through the long line of half-drunks and high-as-kites and are lucky to only get death glares in return.

The two men are immediately recognizable to the club's bouncers and are waved right inside despite the fact Lord can't be legally served. As Aiden wobbles inside to lean against the bar, Lord pulls one of the bouncers off to the side and looks at him with champagne eyes. He pushes a wad of bills into the man's hand and yells in his ear to heard over the music.

“I needja to do sumpthin for me. My friend is meetin me here. His name is Archer… Ya, jist Archer. Like Madonna. He'll be alone - no women or anything - and won't follow dress code but kinyou let'im in anyway?”

With two pats on the back the bouncer nods and ushers Lord inside. He beelines (as much as a drunk frat boy can) for a VIP booth where Aiden is already seated, the bottle service having already been ordered, delivered and poured. Aiden hands him a glass and they raise them.

“Thanks for makin me git out tonight, Aid. I need this.”

“Wasn’t easy getting you out. Being alone in that house without Raven wasn't good for you. It was all Archer-this and Archer-that.”

“I mean, I'm th’main event again and th’next Supreme Champyin. Y’know how it is. I gotta prepare n shit.”

“What's there to prepare for? You already know you're a heavy hitter. Just do what you've always done around here: hit him really hard. Overpower him and get him on the ground before you pummel his face in. I feel like you could match him in a technical fight just from the stuff you watched your dad do. Shit, I bet you could even beat him in a high flying or submission battle, and you just suck those. There isn't a man more resourceful…”

Aiden loses his train of thought as a waitress walks by with a tray of Jello shots, but shakes it off once she's past.

“...more resourceful in RSW than you. You have a knack for timing and knowing when to do what out there. I'm sure the guy can take a real beating but after everything he put you through? Go out there and punch his face until he doesn't get the fuck up. See? Easy.

“Now can we go back to gettin fuckin shitfaced?”

I mean, who can argue with that?

“Lemme just hit the pisser first.”

Lord knocks glasses with his buddy and takes a deep drink from his cup. He stands up and makes his way through the crowded club, slowly dribbling the vodka-cranberry out of his mouth and back into his cup. Instead of going into the restroom, he stops at a door in the same hallway and looks around suspiciously before entering. His champagne eyes are no longer glassy and distant.

This is the look of a lucid man.

So focussed on the task ahead, he couldn’t even take a night off with his friend. So focussed on the task ahead that he tricked his friend into building a strategy for him. That was the kind of researched, motivating speech he usually got from Driver before a match; strategizing beforehand wasn’t really his strong suit.

Down a flight of metal stairs, Lord finds himself in the boiler area of the building. Metal pipes clunk around him and steam seems to settle in the air. He slowly walks through the room, only illuminated by the single light bulbs placed every dozen meters while the bass from the nightclub upstairs thumps the building.

“I got tired of waiting, Archer. I told you exactly where I’d be. I even got fake-hammered so I’d be an easier target for you. Your radio silence is deafening. … No, still nothing? Fine, I can keep talking.”

Lord looks to the pipes running along the ceiling, behind a boiler, around a fuse box - anywhere Archer could be hiding - before continuing.

“Let me tell you about this kid I rushed Theta Chi with. Well I mean, I would have rushed with him but do you really think they made me rush? Heh. His name was Graham or Greg or something. Scholarship kid so he didn’t come from much and looked every bit of it. Kind of our charity case. Didn’t pay dues but we didn’t expect him to. We just paid a little extra each month to cover him. One day my frat brother Will organizes this trip to Costa Rica for spring break. Of course Charity Boy can’t go. He makes remarks all week about how “it must be nice” for our parents to pay for everything while he works the whole week. Really cried a river over it and tried to make us feel guilty.

“But the thing is that I’ll be damned if I feel bad about my circumstance. The fact I was born looking like this, with this much money, with this much opportunity. He gets drunk one night and tries making a pass at Raven, spills his beer on her at one point. Just keeps trying over and over all night - keeps trying to mess with my girl.”

Still keeping an eye on his surroundings, Lord continues walking through the dank hallway.

“Anyway, I took him out back and beat the shit out of him with a canoe paddle that night. Got him kicked out of Theta Chi the next day, Auburn the day after. I moved Heaven and Earth to ruin this charity case and his entire future. He joined our frat thinking he could be successful by association, that he could stand on the shoulders of kids greater than him and make his name off us.

“But he couldn't and he paid dearly. Because the future doesn't belong to the Grahams or Gregs or Archers of the world. The future belongs to the young and the beautiful. It belongs to me!”

Another laugh escapes him as he placed a foot on the bottom step, ready to go back upstairs.

“Look, I'm trying to understand you, Archer. I really am. Do you think Lord Blake actually steps foot in boiler rooms or any other place your kind hangs out? Where I'm from, I get someone else to get you out of my life. I thought you were jealous of my in-born wrestling ability but it's so much worse - you hate who I am. You're going to hate me even more when I'm the new RSW Supreme Champion. Trust me." 

Dismayed that Archer no-showed him again, Lord climbs the stairs back to the thumping bass.