FINISH THE STORY

Silence.

There was a time, long ago, when Jonathan-Christopher was not capable of sitting in silence. What six-year-old boy could? Through therapy, however, he has learned adults are also uncomfortable in this scenario. It forces you to be within your own thoughts, to think deeper and to go beyond the surface. To ask important questions.

Where answers are often shunned away.

For tonight, in the middle of the LOVE CONVOY locker room, silence doesn’t bring the typical anxiety-riddled response. Tonight, as Jonathan-Christopher recovers beside his ever-so-loving partner, fresh off their grudge match, silence means strength and security.

She rests her head on his chest. His shoulders upright, chin high, eyes locked ahead. He is laser focused on everything and nothing at once.

They said Jonathan-Christopher would never reach the end.

A list of athletes, challengers, warriors, the best this sport has to offer… crossed off, one-by-one. If chalk was the bracket you submitted to Vegas, hope you gambled responsibly. Critics can point to interference, blindsiding attacks or even a fistful of tights, but regardless of the how, it’s the journey through that particularly matters.

He fights with a critical level of desperation. If they wanted it like he did, maybe the results would’ve been different.

But he wants it so badly.

Because, after all, he wants it for her.

True compromise; real sacrifice. To be her shield, absorbing each blow. He will jump on the grenade and worry about collecting whatever remaining parts thereafter.

Selfless. Toughness. Resiliency. These are the traits which always remain.

It’s peaceful, their locker room that is. Straight ahead, on tomorrow. He knows it isn’t over yet. In fact, it’s just begun.

Buzz.

Her phone. Leave it to technology for intercepting a beautiful fantasy.

“Ugh, daddy,” she mentions with a sigh, opening the conversation right in front of them. Of course, he can’t help but look. Her father intends to catch a flight.

“dont brother coming,” she snaps her dainty little fingers across the screen with lightning fast reflexes. Showcasing quickness such as this, he thinks she should be the wrestler. “u rn;t neeted, i changed my minddd.”

She powers-down the phone and rolls her head up to his face, while still resting on his pecs.

“Daddy wanted in on the fun…” her voice trails. It’s an excruciating thought. “This isn’t about him, is it?”

A rhetorical question. It’s their expedition, the Hall’s deserve to bask.

Their marriage had struggled, Jonathan-Christopher won’t lie. Last summer she requested a break; he required therapy.

She called him out after the loss to Nate Colton. “Prove your love,” she challenged.

How does five fucking rounds sound, baby?

Most recently she was booted from ringside.

No typical ‘dear’ in the headlights. He took the opportunity and seized it.

This was the lost script for 2022’s tournament. Cheating? When love is present, anything goes. Interrupt a pinfall? No biggie. Camera to the face? KA-BOOM! Opponents weren’t going to compromise for them… why the hell should they? Wrestling is cruel. Cutthroat. Unforgiving.

Their love story has to be told, by any means necessary.

Now the last obstacle pending…

The greatest wrestler in the world.

On the biggest stage.

In the main event.

With everyone watching.

“I love you,” he says with absolute conviction. He is no longer begging for a response, he doesn’t need to hear it.

And yet, for the first time in so long (go ahead, look it up) she replies anyway.

“I love you, too.”

— — — — — FINISH THE STORY A true love story An honest friendship Look how far they’ve come — — — — —

December 23, 2002

He didn’t run away, please don’t be mad. Oh, he wanted to, but he didn’t know where to go. When it’s dark outside, it’s scary dark. There are no street lights, not another home within reach. The Hall’s aren’t situated in a Louisiana suburb, they reside far outside the rural village of Folsom.

Each night the boy battles with this newfound sense of urgency. Grab extra clothes, stuff them in his backpack and GO. It should be easy. What’s so terrifying about being out there, as opposed to being in here?

Inside his bedroom, the six-year-old boy waits in silence.

Typically.

Always.

Every, single, day.

Silence. It’s making him act silly. What type of kid has a make believe friend?

Silence. Urging him to leave. Flee. Run. Never come back. Last week he practically begged mommy to hang out.

Silence. If daddy was here, they’d have fun. You can’t fool Jonathan-Christopher, his father was real. Why else would the boy waste time thinking, waiting, praying, crying, hoping, begging, pleading, if none of it actually happened!?

Silence. Billy knew he should’ve left. This is a trap, he’s stuck in a loop.

Silence. Jonathan-Christopher snatches his bag and runs down the stairs. His mother is home but he doesn’t care if she hears him.

He arrives at the front door. He’s tall enough to reach the handle.

He stops. Like the day before. And the day before that.

Billy grows angry.

Billy tells him to stick with the plan.

It’s what they talked about.

It’s the only answer!

Jonathan-Christopher can’t help himself. He’s walking into the living room. He wants to take one last look at his mom. Maybe, this time, it’ll be different. She’ll see the fear in his eyes or witness the tension on his forehead. Maybe… yes, she’ll understand what his tears truly represent.

He sees her; she’s sleeping. Billy tells Jonathan-Christopher to “GET OUT”.

No. He moves forward. This isn’t a careful disposition. The boy wants to knock the bottles around, crushing the souls of his feet through the fields of empty pizza boxes. Movement which announces his presence.

He reaches the edge of the sofa. His toes dig into a pile of cigarette butts. He leans forward. He sticks out his neck.

“Mommy?” At first it’s his typical, softer tone but now… now Billy shakes his head. Billy is pissed. Billy can’t believe Jonathan-Christopher could be so stupid!

“Mommy.”

A statement. A fact.

“Mommy. Can you hear me? It’s me, Jonathan-Christopher.”

His mother’s face is paler than normal.

“Mommy,” he remarks once again.

The boy ponders in silence.

“Mommy?” He starts to question her name, as he reaches forward and taps her on the cheek. “Can you hear me?”

His heart races.

“Mommy!”

He figures she’s in one of those deep sleeps so Jonathan-Christopher crawls onto the empty space on the sofa.

“Mom?”

He places both hands on her shoulders. He slowly starts to shake her.

“MOM?”

Her face. It’s blank.

“MOM!?”

He shakes her forcefully.

“MOM!!”

He screams at an unrecognizable volume.

“MOM!!”

black

The flashing lights go round and round. Red and blue, blue and red, swirling throughout the night. A blurry man approaches, offering his hand but Jonathan-Christopher doesn’t reach for it. Instead, the boy folds his arms, rocking back and forth. He watches the large white van close its doors and drive away, lights drifting into the distance deep. The man tells him something, but he isn’t listening. He wonders why his mom didn’t answer.

black

He’s inside the office he was questioned in two months ago. That same man enters the room, offering Jonathan-Christopher hot chocolate. The boy takes the mug by its handle but feels too sick to drink. The look on the man’s face… Jonathan-Christopher has never seen an expression like it. The man says something about a grandfather. The boy didn’t even know he had one. The man’s voice is calm, yet it’s making Jonathan-Christopher uneasy. Where is he going now? And why can’t he find Billy?

black

— — — — —

Baymont Inn & Suites (2-Star Hotel) Minot, North Dakota August 20, 2015 01:33

After the second daughter-father goodbye, she hopped into the car, almost as if she was holding back tears so he floored it to their reservation, cosplaying Speed Racer. It was a full day, it was enough of a day. They’re here for the week, although he could already tell how much the events of day one were weighing on her.

He’s tucked into the blankets, waiting for her to exit the bathroom. She’s taken a long shower, needing to wash away today’s interactions.

“Hey Jonathan-Christopher,” she squeaks embarrassingly as the door opens up by a sliver. “I forgot my PJs.”

Too shy to undress in front of him, too rattled to walk out sporting only a towel, he hops off the bed and finds the clothes she’s left behind.

“Plah,” she gargles, popping her head out. “Daddy gets me frustrated.”

Jonathan-Christopher approaches, offering her attire. Vickie timidly takes them.

“It’s always about him. His stupid wrestling gigs, his worthless ideas. Growing up he didn’t have time for me. It was always ‘on the road with the boys’! Well those ‘boys’ only liked him because he’s rich.”

Head stuck through the doorway and one hand grasping her items, Vickie can’t help but vent.

“It’s okay,” Jonathan-Christopher replies gracefully, as he returns to his side of the bed.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she starts again, taking short breaks between speaking, clearly struggling to do two things at once. “I love daddy, he means well. I don’t hate wrestling but I’m the second fiddle, it’s why mom left years ago.”

Her voice suggests she’s falling further into a sense of frustration, therefore Jonathan-Christopher lends a helping hand.

“I never knew my father.”

“No?” A fully dressed and redirected Vickie emerges, in a white sparkly Shawn Mendes tank top and bright pink Selena Gomez shorts. She walks to the foot of their bed.

“What about your mom?” She inquires, as Jonathan-Christopher slowly rocks back and forth.

“She passed away when I was six,” he chokes up slightly, yet continues. “Before Christmas. Drug overdose.”

Vickie rests on the edge of their bed. Her eyes shift towards the floor and she scans the carpet carefully.

“You don’t talk about them,” Vickie reflects. “Come to think of it, you don’t talk about… much.”

It’s true, he doesn’t. They’ve dated for almost three months. He remembers when she asked him what hobbies he enjoyed. He said he had none. He recalls her carrying on their first conversation. Heck, she was the one who asked him out.

Jonathan-Christopher begins with a half-hearted laugh, eventually easing into his response of, “I guess I don’t.”

The promoter’s daughter keeps her eyes dancing across the filthy carpet.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you I came from money,” Vickie laughs back as she looks around at the paint peeling walls. “Probably could’ve stayed somewhere nicer.”

He chuckles once more. “It’s okay.”

The tiny young lady lifts herself and forcefully pulls out the covers on her side of the bed. She scoots in.

“Well, I promise I won’t hold anything back from you ever again,” she bats her eyelashes and raises those wonderful, bushy eyebrows. “Open and honest, nothing to hide.”

He smiles, she blushes.

“You and I, all the way. We didn’t choose our families…”

Vickie grabs Jonathan-Christopher’s left hand and squeezes it tightly.

“But we can choose each other.”

— — — — —

Hall Penthouse Suite Las Vegas, NV December 5, 2023 16:55

Another little addition to the story: Colossus 2023 in New Orleans is Jonathan-Christopher’s homecoming.

The Hall’s would like to nominate whomever is writing this stuff for a Pulitzer!

“Three… two… one… ACTION!”

The couple sit in front of the rolling ESPN cameras. The documentary has been exhausting but the requirements are slowing down. Earlier this week, Jonathan-Christopher was finally able to get a full workout in, alongside partner Dan Celetti. This morning he thoroughly reviewed the scouting documents Vickie prepared on Cecilworth.

“It’s been A RIDE! Gosh golly, goodness gracious great balls of fire!” Vickie’s body wiggles and wobbles with every word she speaks. Except this time, that seems to be… it?

She spins to her left and takes Jonathan-Christopher’s hand. She acknowledges the cameras.

“It’s his moment, his homecoming. You deserve it, honey. Tell them how you’re feeling.”

Even the ESPN crew is stunned. They take a brief pause to remove themselves from their viewfinders.

“Well,” he says, first gazing into her eyes and then into the main lens. “The history between the Hall’s and the Sykes’ is multi-layered. I wish it didn’t get off to such a bad omen, he’s a hell of a wrestler and I narrowly escaped. Up next is Cecilworth, an entirely different animal.”

There are no socks to stuff down his pants, no corrections on what are the “right” or “wrong” comments. She merely sits there, a hand over her heart.

“He has worked so hard.”

Have the platform, Jonathan-Christopher Hall. Go ahead, she wants to be a spectator now, too.

— — — — —

Meth Rehabilitation Outpatient Check-In Program Folsom, LA December 7, 2023 09:14

“My name is Jonathan-Christopher and I am addicted to meth.”

“Hello, Jonathan-Christopher.”

“Today, I wanted to approach my time differently. This really is a safe space. I commonly promote meth, it’s saved my life. And yet I’ve never felt judged or looked down upon.”

Over the past few months, Jonathan-Christopher has shown exceptional growth. His hands have stopped shaking, he can even make proper eye-contact. This morning, however, he hovers somewhere in-between these modalities.

“There’s an event happening in a week, you know, at the Superdome? I’m wrestling.”

Reaching into his pocket, he reveals a handful of tickets.

“My life’s work is on display. I understand the parameters around confidentiality and I would never in a million years disclose how I’ve come to know each of you,” he laughs at himself. “I’m in and out of these sessions rather fast, you’d think it means nothing. But I recognize your faces and I am truly grateful for your ears and your patience. It would mean the world to me if any of you attended. Please, you also don’t have to.”

Jonathan-Christopher leads his gaze around the room, pushing himself to spend a second, or more, on eye-contact with every person he passes.

“Meth was my only means of support…”

He can’t help but smile when a warmth across his internal body spreads.

“Until I found all of you.”

It’s clear he’s building confidence.

“I’ll leave the tickets at the door, please grab a couple on your way out… if you desire.”

Dora, his most trusted ally, leans over and pats him on the back. JCH concludes.

“From the very bottom of my heart, thank you. Go sober.”

He sits down.

— — — — —

Can you hear me, Cecilworth? It’s me, Jonathan-Christopher.

Vickie has dubbed you the greatest wrestler in the world. She has, once more, given me the title of underdog.

But isn’t this the definition of a journey? Was there not a time where you were considered the longshot? At some point, we all shocked the world, until the critics finally came around.

By the way, what’s your career record in handicapped matches?

Because you’re walking into one.

You’ll have to forgive me, for I don’t know all the ins and outs of your story, since I’ve been so invested in mine. It’s what everybody at the watercooler is discussing. Undefeated stories are boring.

We want to live vicariously through the compromised man.

I have Her, this is academic. I have also collected recovering addicts down this path.

Inspiring.

Please allow no disrespect. From a historical perspective, you have everything I desire. Titles, prestige, honor. The ability to snap a man’s neck in under a millisecond. To capture the imagination of a child. Steal the heart of a woman. Earn the respect of a man. Yes, some may boo, others may cheer, but in the end they place you on a wicked pedestal.

I wonder, if you look at my work, would you consider that I am on the right track?

And while my voyage to the center of this bracket may seem disingenuous, I am still a man who follows a strict and vital code.

Of love.

We will meet, in my home state, an hour drive from where I was born. I don’t know what reception I’ll warrant and in many ways, I don’t care. I have been rejected throughout my whole life, except by Her.

Yet I believe the landscape is changing, no?

I may be the underdog; you are the favorite.

But I also don’t have to be you, either.

I just have to be me.

Jonathan-Christopher Hall has gone this far, Cecilworth Farthington.

I wonder where else I can go…

— — — — —

Can you hear me, Vickie? It’s me, Jonathan-Christopher.

Of course you can, you were the first one who ever listened.

I love you!

I could end there but you deserve my undivided attention.

Colossus. New Orleans. Superdome. Not only my homecoming but it’s the same place we met. Section 640, eat your heart out. What a lucky coincidence.

As you have taught me, however, there is no such thing as coincidence when a true love story blossoms to its climax. I can falsify falling into this, you can know we most certainly worked for it. From the moment I met you, you accepted me for who I am. You rejected complacency, which is a relationship killer. Like a loving, nurturing, unwavering partner, you challenged me to find further strengths and fasten my weaknesses. I could have quit after the initial tournament loss; we could’ve sprinted from its second incarnation. But you, Vickie, you picked up a jilted lover, dusted him off and continued to provide unmistakable hope. Before you, I never felt love. Didn’t know it existed.

It’s funny, sometimes I still wonder why you chose me, of all people, when you obviously could’ve had anyone.

On June 4th, 2015, you opened my eyes to a whole new world. Come December 15th, 2023, I will finally return the favor.

The objective you’ve dreamt of is here, honey! Every ounce of blood, sweat and tears will pour into the match. No quit; I will endure! This tournament has taught me I have significant strengths. Cecilworth isn’t the only wrestler capable of wearing the crown.

I’ve also realized what defines a true Hallmark Journey. It’s speaking up, being the man you deserve. Giving my shoulder to cry and my hand to hold. Recognizing your needs and meeting those requirements.

This is for you. Me. Us!

For banishing my demons. For fighting through the gauntlet. For giving you the platform you’ve yearned for and shunning those who didn’t understand our direction.

You are my life.

Words cannot explain. Actions will not describe. My love for you holds no fucking bounds.

On December 15th, the world will finally see what I treasure.

The greatest partner. Period.

And I, of all people, am the one to flaunt her glory.

May God have mercy on my opponent. May he shine light through our flawless marriage for years to come.

And may he grant you the tournament winner.

Most importantly, the Universal Champion.

— — — — —

The Hallmark of Epilogues

Vickie Hall’s iPhone 15 Pro

TEHEHE iMessage 12/08/23 05:28am

oh heyyyyyyyy- wakey wakey-

-Blah, do you have to text so early in the morning?

early risers no survivors-

-What does that even mean?

it means get ur @$$ over herrrree-

5:55am

its getting hot in hear- so take off all ur clothes- i am getting so hot- i wanna take my clothes offffffffff-

-I can come over sure. -But -Uh -Isn’t Jonathan-Christopher there?

um like no?- hes gone 2 lousisana early- he goes frequently- i told u this- his gRaNdPa DiEd while ago he goes 2 clean out his place- lived with him or sonethoing at a teen after relocation- plus put in colossus promotional work- hometown kid- i dunno- w/e- get over here!!-

-Give me an hour?

sigh- finneee- but i’m losing on teh deal-

-Can I ask you a question?

of courseee- tehehehe- role playing is the best- unless its like online role playing- BOR-ing-

-Blah -That’s not what I meant -Why don’t you tell him?

y dont YOU mind ur own business-

-Okay -But what if he wins?

wins?- WINS!?- BAHAHA like i am exuahsted of being disappointed- he aint going to WINS-

-He could -He’s been wrestling really well lately

yeah cuz of ME- & yeah no cecil real gud- cecil undefeated- tired of getting my divine little heart broke u no?- like soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tired of it- lets spit FACTS- first almasy tournmanent- surViVor- tag gauntlet- tag match popsicles- gage pontiff- who THE FUCK is that???- trop eliminator to ivan- NATE. DUCKING. COLTON.- other stuff i am forgetting due to my TRAUMA- coLOSSus all over again- U no what? take it or leave it. R U coming?-

-Yeah I’m leaving now.

mmmmmmmmmmmmm gud- u so gud- C U soon- door is unlocked- ill be waitingggg- under the covers- flip back sheets to find meeee- small & tiny me just waiting- hurry up lol- get ur yummy bummy over here-