“Jonathan Rockwell is turning heel?” I asked, genuine surprise breaking through my anxiety.
Jonathan Rockwell was another pillar of this business. He was the oldest of all the names listed. He had already been in the UWF for ten years when I signed and was certainly cemented in history. He had been a babyface the entire time he’d been here. A heel turn for him was probably the most shocking part of this entire scenario.
“And who comes out on top of this free for all?" Cal asked, cutting straight to the chase.
“You guys,” said Tate.
Mark nodded. “We think this is the best outcome. Fans will be torn on if they love or hate you guys, and going intoMan Overboard, this is going to send everyone into a frenzy. There will be more to prove in this. This will showcase who can hang with the big dogs, and who falls behind in the end. And unfortunately… one or two of you falling behind will be inevitable.”
I swallowed hard, the air leaving the room. We all glanced at one another.
Who falls behind.
What if it was me? What if I couldn’t hang? High flyers like me weren’t known for longevity, or for selling the way the big guys did. It was the guys like Cal, built like tanks with a grounded, strike heavy style that prioritized efficiency and violence, who survived this business. Guys like me, who used our bodies as projectiles, defying gravity with reckless abandon, usually ended up broken before thirty.
The meeting ended shortly after. We were all shellshocked. I didn’t feel like I was even in my body as we walked out silently, packing our bags to move from the smallerAftershockvenue to the arena forty-five minutes down the road forShowdown.
When Cal and I reached the rental car in the parking lot, I stood there for a beat. The cold NYC air hit my face, biting and sharp, but I couldn’t feel it. I was numb.
“Si? You good?” Cal asked, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
I shook my head as if it would make the thoughts go away. I didn’t realize I was standing there holding the keys but making no move to unlock the damn thing. My fingers felt like they didn’t belong to me.
“Sorry… can you drive maybe? I don’t really like driving in cities like this,” I said, my voice tight, sounding thin and far away.
Cal nodded and walked around to the driver’s side where I was standing. But by the time he got there, I was crouching down near the tires.
It hit me all at once.
The tunnel vision started at the edges of my sight, turning the grey parking lot into a blur. My heart, which had been racing all day, suddenly felt like it was trying to batter its way out of my ribcage.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was too fast. It was erratic.
I was panicking. Completely. I knew the feeling well, the tight chest, the inability to draw a full breath, but having a panic attack in public? In a work parking lot? That hadn’t happened before.
“Dude, what’s going on?” Cal asked with sudden concern, crouching down next to me.
My knees gave out. I tumbled onto my ass on the cold asphalt, my hands flying up to cover my face. I needed to hide.
“I’m g-good… f-freaking out… I’m f-fine,” I stuttered out, gasping for air that refused to fill my lungs. It felt like breathing through a straw. Like drowning on dry land.
“What can I do?” Cal asked. His voice dropped the sarcasm instantly. The edge was gone. “Do you need anything? Water?”
I couldn’t answer. My mouth wasn’t working. My tongue felt too big for my mouth. The noise of the city, the distant sirens, the hum of traffic, faded into a high-pitched ringing in my ears. It felt like dying, totally bombing out in a packed parking lot before my career even really started.
This is it,the voice in my head screamed.
You’re a fraud. You’re broken. You’re just like your father.
“Silas, talk to me,” Cal said.
His hands settled on my wrists, warm and grounding, trying to pull my hands away from my face.
My breathing was fast, shallow, dangerously close to hyperventilation. I forced my eyes open.
Our eyes locked. Cal looked concerned. Uncertain. For a moment, he didn’t have a mask on. He wasn’t hiding beneath hardness and spite. He was genuine. He was trying his best to be whatever the hell I needed, and he had no reason to do that.
