He's wearing faded black and grey. A cup of hot chocolate  - with caramel. It makes the scene.

"You seriously want to downplay me, Bryce? Fine, be a bitch. Doesn't bother me at all. But you want to make this personal? I've got news for you bro, there is no vendetta here. No grudge. This match is about one thing and one thing only."

"The LWF World title. You have it. I want it."

"Was adding the extra drama a stipulation in your default champion status? I don't care if it was. Maybe I'm just getting this title shot because "warring brothers" makes a good headline in the marquee. Whatever. I'm punk rock."

"That means I roll with what I've got, and I take that much more. If you want a tear-jerker, get together with your old buddy Dustin Kelser. I'm sure he can help you put together something much better than a long-lost baby brother. But don't keep this match in the family. Don't make this about a fall from a window or Mom's turkey."

"I'm a professional fucking wrestler, for Christ-sake."

Stoic green eyes. More hot chocolate. Seriously, you've got to try it with caramel...

"Here's a flash of news - this isn't your redemption day. You aren't going to make things right with some apologetic mannerisms and wishy washy, do-gooder bravado. You're a champion. Fucking act like it."

"And the best part is - you seem to be trying to paint a picture of me that's convenient to suit your fairy tale story. I'm being changed? By what, success? I'm being consumed? By what, endless strings of victories? Sorry. Next career I promise I'll go out of my way to suck dick at whatever it is I set out to do."

"And there is no comparing us. I'm not blindly walking your path. Your change in personality? That wasn't wrestling. You were a fucking alcoholic, Bryce. You got your inspiration from a bottle, I get mine from intuition and working my ass off. Where's the comparison? Who do you think it was that had to calm mother down from near-hysteria when you shot a cut and passed out in a pool of your own piss? You want to turn the tables now? I'm not on a downward spiral. The only thing out of control is my winning streak. Thanks for the concern, but I think I'll manage."

There's a tap at the door. She's waiting for him. She won't be waiting for long. Not anymore.

"Just who do you think I answer to, anyway? Ridel? Nice pussy move there, bro. Seriously, just because you puckered up and affixed your lips to his teet doesn't mean I am. Another place we differ. My affiliations are there for one reason and for one reason only - to lift my career. Don't read too much into them. Black Wind is as much for me what the MoA was for you - something extra for the audience to grab onto while I soar to the top."

"And I am heading there. Make no mistake. You're heading for a rude awakening at Volver. Make no mistake. You will be lying there on your face - locked in the Shangri-la. Locked in the vice."

"I'm going to vindicate myself - my career and my name. I'm going to break your arm. This is what I do now. I humiliate my opponents in the rudest of ways. Then I break them down. I am more than the sum of the words I speak. To you or to anyone. You're going to remember that after the first. Goodbye, Nightstryker. Goodnight."

He'll be there soon. Don't wait too long.