You don't know what he's looking for. He turns his icy stare in your direction, but soon a carefree smile eases the scene. He shakes his head and returns to looking into the distance.

"Congratulations, Aarya Ranvir... you fucking cunt. It must have been an icy cold day in hell, but you pulled out all the stops and your intern caught Dead End off guard. Me? I had you beat - but that must sound trivial and bitter. I'm not. You had a lot riding on this one, much more so than I ever did. You proved you were willing to do whatever it took to drop a notch in your win column, and I've got no problem with that."

"But before you spend too much time lamenting in what you won, think about what you lost."

"You couldn't beat me. You had all the ears of the community listening to you on these airwaves - and each one of them heard your nonsensical metaphors and juvenile rimshots. They listened as I exposed you from the inside out and tripped you up every time you spoke. You could have still won them over in this match, it was your chance to prove your win over Lee wasn't a fluke upset. You could have silenced any doubt."

"You had me locked in the Miser's Grasp. You couldn't put me down, even with four extra seconds."

"Think what you will, but that's going to sting. It's going to stay with you far more than you can imagine. Even your intern knew the match was over, and so she bailed you out. That makes her the Liberty employee of the month. Think for a second about what that makes you."

He pauses as he seemingly gives you time to think it over. His stare turns to center once again.

"Maybe I'm spending too much time on this. Maybe someone out there wants to hear about the "Rough Gods" and what happened to the "Black Wind". If I'm trading up or even if I'm trading even, it makes no difference to me. The "who" is no more important than the "why", and I'm all too inclined to keep the people guessing."

"What is the Black Wind anyway? Aside from me, its a motley crew of men and women who could have taken their career to soaring heights any time they wished - and chose not to. Why be the sole exception? Adam Gray is elevating and turning heads. He's got style and class, so why not run with it?"

His Motorola Razr rings from his left pocket. He glances at the caller ID and pushes the button to silence it, then slides it back into his pocket. He hesitates for a moment, then continues.

"And now I find myself dropped into cliché and irony. "Special guest referee" is a copout move designed to give a zero-draw weekly match the illusion its got main event potential - as well as giving both participants an immediate excuse for losing: that excuse being me."

"Who will I favor? Who will I turn on? I'm sure these are the fruitless questions they want you to ask, as my brother and a dumb emo bitch fight for the title that I have top contender ship to. They want you to believe the building tensions between the three of us will make for extra excitement - what they don't want you to believe is that I'll actually call it down the line. Every move I make will be subject to scrutiny, and really what else should I say? It should be. I've got no reason to do anyone in this federation any favors. Chances are if I fuck you over, you've done something to deserve it."

"But that would be the easy out. I'd be copping out just as this federation wants me to. They want you to believe I've got two choices between who I'll pick to face at Fall From Grace, and that's going to be my direction. But "they" and "you" and everyone else who thinks that... they don't have a fucking clue."

The phone rings again in his pocket. He shrugs as he pulls it out and prepares to answer.

"Sorry, I've got to take this."

He flips it open, and a barely audible "hello" makes it on as you fade to black.

You don't get to hear the conversation that follows. In this digital age, simply flipping open a cell phone can change a person's life. In this instance, there was no way to predict the words he'd hear. The voice on the end never the one he would have expected. Every syllable harder to believe than the last. His life would shatter during a phone call that clocks a mere 1:12 before he closed the phone in disbelief. You won't hear the conversation or the see the phone breaking as he throws it against the wall. You won't ever understand, but you will hear about it. In just a day or two, the story will make headlines. His life will come undone, and you'll have a front row seat. Congratulations.