Present Tense

I staggered backwards as Eddie’s roundhouse caught me in the side of the head. It was a glancing blow – otherwise God knew he would have laid me the fuck out – and he was relentless in his follow-up. The old man’s still got it, I thought, delivering a desperate punch to his solar plexus and backflipping to gain some distance. We stared each other down from the opposite side of the ring, and he grinned. 

‘You had enough?’ he said with a smirk. 

‘Fuck no,’ I said, smirking back. ‘If I can’t outlast an old fart like you, what chance am I going to have against MJ Flair at Elevation?’ 

‘Hey!’ he chided. ‘Respect your elders, or I’ll have to make you.’ 

‘You’ll have to try, old man,’ I said with a grin. I bounced off the ropes and went for a clothesline; he ducked underneath it, as I expected, and bounced off the ropes on the other side. I went for a cross-body; he caught me and went into a powerslam. A whole lot of force in that slam; it drove the breath out of me. I made a show of coughing, but the old man was far too canny to be fooled by that. I kipped up and went back in with a haymaker; he blocked it and whipped me into the corner…

… just as I had hoped he would. 

I sprang nimbly up the ropes and spun around in the Queen’s Gambit – only to find him having moved out of the way, and promptly falling on my arse. 

‘Young people today,’ he said. ‘I tell you, there’s no hope for this generation. Try to use my own move against me!’ 

I groaned. ‘Would’ve been poetic, though…’

‘Man, how many times do I have to tell you, ain’t no poetry in this business?’ said Eddie. ‘You win with what you’ve got, you don’t try and be clever!’ 

‘You may be right,’ I said, rubbing my backside. I had landed right on my tailbone, and it was rather unpleasant. ‘Still. Good training.’ 

‘Uh-huh,’ said Eddie. Meanwhile there was a chorus of “Hey!”s from the rest of the dojo, protesting the match ending without a finish. We shrugged and exited the ring, and I went back to the changing room to retrieve my gi. 

I had spent the last few weeks moving from the Academy in Yorkshire back to Atlanta; as I was now a full-time CWF star, and as CWF was US-based, it only made sense. I missed everyone at the Academy – though Eris had come over with me – but one perk meant that I could return to Amemiya-do Karate. Dan had trained with them for years before we met, and I had gone to the dojo when I was searching for him after the Order had taken them. I’d liked what I found – an unpretentious, martial-arts-first dojo, traditional, just the way I liked it. And so I’d kept training with them, even when I hadn’t been an active fighter any more. 

And part of that training had meant bonding with Eddie Baker, the other retired professional wrestler at the dojo – though he was retired-retired, apparently unlike me. He had been a fairly big name in the 90s, but never quite got the big break that got him all the way to the top. 

A shame, because even in his sixties the guy still kicked like a freaking horse. 

It was indeed from Eddie that I picked up my Queen’s Gambit finisher; though as great as it was for me, I could never quite pull it off with quite his level of… panache. 

I emerged from the changing room and saw that the class had largely dissipated, but Eris – who despite my ongoing effort never joined the class – was now waiting for me, having snuck in during my impromptu match with Eddie. 

‘A good fight,’ they said. ‘Shame about the finish. Or lack thereof.’ 

‘Hey, it was training, not a match. Plus, no referee, so, y’know, no pinfall.’ 

‘Excuses,’ they said. We got in the car and headed home – I gathered that Eris had passed the time at a nearby ramen shop – going into the awfulness that was the I-285 traffic. Even at 8pm, the cars were still thick on the road, and we were nearly cleaned up by some asshole in a BMW with Florida plates. 

‘And of course it’s fucking Florida,’ muttered Eris, who was in the passenger seat. 

‘Florida drivers aren’t all bad,’ I said. 

‘Basketball players aren’t all tall, but it fucking helps,’ said Eris. 

Lacking much else to say on that front, we drove in silence for a couple of minutes. 

‘Oh, forgot to tell you,’ they said. ‘While you were training, Dan won his HVW match. He’s going on to the finals.’ 

‘Really?’ I said. 

‘Why the tone of surprise?’ asked Eris, raising their eyebrows. ‘Don’t believe in him?’

‘Oh fuck off,’ I said. ‘No, I’m more surprised… I mean, I think we both thought he was going in for a cross-promotional match, and now he’s… what, one win away from being their champion?’ 

‘Yup.’ 

I thought for a moment. ‘You know, he did tell me when we last talked that he was really enjoying his time there. God, what would it mean if we worked for different federations full-time?’

Eris shrugged. ‘You only get to fuck three nights a week instead of four?’ 

‘It’s… not that often,’ I said. ‘Why would you – I can’t believe I actually thought to ask that question.’ 

‘I’m just saying, if you want me to tag in…’ 

‘… wait, are you saying tag in for me, or for him?’

‘Yes!’ 

‘Ugh.’ 

Eris’ phone buzzed, and they checked the notification. ‘Ooh, match card’s up,’ they said. 

‘Who’ve I got?’ 

Eris grinned. I rolled my eyes. ‘What?’ 

‘Cali and MJ taggin’ in the ring, doing that Marielledonia thing,’ they sing-songed. 

‘Oh God, not this again…’ 

‘And you thought that the slashfic community was abuzz when the two of you made your match,’ Eris said with a leer. ‘I tell you, it’s like the good old days on the forums.’ 

‘Forums? … You made the forums, didn’t you?’ 

‘And kept paying the website hosting fee just in case you two ever decided to go for another round,’ they said, smirking. ‘And hey, sometimes you just need to load up some old favorite smut, and…’ 

‘Moving on,’ I said firmly, ‘you said MJ and I were teaming up. Who’ve we got?’

Eris pulled out their phone to check. 

‘You didn’t look at our opponents?’ I exclaimed. 

‘I was… distracted,’ they said. 

‘You need to be stopped,’ I said acidly. ‘So. Who do we have?’ 

‘Looks like… ah, Holmes again!’  

‘What d’you mean, “again”? I’ve only fought him the once.’

‘Yeah, but Dan and Mark fought him, then you and Dan did, and now you are again… I dunno, half his matches have been against your family!’ 

‘And we’ve yet to beat him,’ I said through gritted teeth, though that was at least 30% due to the asshole in the Audi - fucking Florida plates again! - cutting me off. ‘And hey – we’re in 2026 now, no more hypnosis powers, so that can’t hurt our chances.’ 

‘Wait, I thought we got to keep some degree of our powers?’

I shrugged. ‘It’s kind of unclear. I mean, I can’t engulf myself in blue flames and transform into the High Priestess anymore, but I’m pretty sure I’m punching harder than I used to. Maybe Holmes just gets to be really good at persuasive speech?’

‘C’mon, let me pin you,’ said Eris in a mocking tone. ‘Please? I’ll be your friend!’ 

‘Remind me to lend you that book about persuasion,’ I said. 

‘Dan forbade it, remember?’ they replied. ‘I “can’t be trusted” to not “use it for mischief.”’

‘Ah right,’ I said. ‘Wait, you said it was a tag team match, who’s the other person?’ 

‘Um…’ said Eris, looking. ‘It’s… Wade Moor. New guy – at least in CWF. Don’t know much about… and of course he’s from fucking Florida!’

‘Eris, again, just because someone’s from Florida…’

‘He’s not the wise old man of the locker room. He’s the guy who walks in with salt in his beard, a fedora on his head, sunglasses on his face, a Hawaiian shirt half unbuttoned, chugs a beer, and then reminds the entire roster that just because he’s older doesn’t mean he stopped being dangerous,’ Eris read aloud. 

‘… well, that certainly does sound Floridian…’ 

Before we could say any more, my phone buzzed. I was pulling into the parking lot, and once I had parked I checked it. Hm. Amelia. That was unusual… and it was a text to the entire roster. More unusual. 

… oh. 

‘Dear fellow CWFers,

I am deeply sorry to inform you of the passing of Duce Jones. Out of respect for the family, we won’t be releasing any details for the time being, but know that our friend and colleague is no longer with us. The next show will be a tribute to his memory.’ 

‘What’s up?’ said Eris. I wordlessly handed them the phone, and saw their face fall. I was sure that my face bore the same expression. 

I hadn’t known Duce all that well. I had fought him once, in a six-person tag team match, and the finish had involved the two of us. We had been cordial enough with each other, but I had never talked to him as much as perhaps I should have. He’d been… if not in my life then around it for nearly a decade, but I couldn’t remember a single conversation between us. I wouldn’t get the chance now, and that felt fucking awful.

We arrived back at Dan and my condo, neither of us much in the mood to talk. I texted Dan to see if he’d seen the news; he had been less reachable than usual with all the press tours around HVW’s big event. He had seen the news; neither of us really knew what to say. What do you say when someone so young, with so much promise, dies so suddenly? Hell, Duce was younger than I was. 

Details hadn’t been released about what happened, and I knew full well it wasn’t the business of anyone but his family. I just hoped that it wasn’t too painful, whatever it was. 

Eris came from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine. I took one, and the two of us raised our glasses. ‘To Duce,’ we said, drinking deeply. 

.

..

…

Yeah.

What else can you say?