time: tuesday, bar close

day: april first

place: bailey's bay, bermuda; sand & pebble tavern.

(Joe and I are sitting in the corner booth, a booth I've reserved for myself and whoever I choose to sit there since the inception. I have a Landshark Lager sitting in front of me, and Joe has a bottled water. He's been dry for years now, and I would never expect him step off the wagon for anybody, including me. Now that his reputation has exceeded more than running a radio station and wrestling here and there, he concerns himself with his image.)

(I used to. I used to care, but lately I just don't. I only care about one thing. I take a sip of my beer, and he looks me in the eyes.)

Joe BoXeR: I hear you're seeing Jill.

VIRUS: Mia tell you that?

Joe BoXeR: No...Jill did. Forget I've been a patient of hers?

VIRUS: That's right. Better keep a lid on that.

Joe BoXeR: I know.

VIRUS: She didn't tell you anything else, did she?

Joe BoXeR: She can't.

VIRUS: Doesn't mean she didn't.

Joe BoXeR: She didn't.

(I pull my eyes away, and take another sip of my beer. I feel unfocused and indifferent. Joe knows it.)

VIRUS: You know, Lex is --

Joe BoXeR: I know. I had to sign his contract.

VIRUS: But --

Joe BoXeR: But nothing. That was seven years ago.

(I can see the pain in his eyes. It's not something he likes to talk about.)

VIRUS: He won't do anything, Joe. He's spent the last three years in prison; he's not looking to go back.

Joe BoXeR: I'm not worried. Just don't tell her.

VIRUS: I won't...or Mia either.

Joe BoXeR: She watches doesn't she?

VIRUS: Just when I'm wrestling... and not all the time.

(He doesn't feel satisfied, but his concern disappears.)

Joe BoXeR: Listen. I appreciate you flying me down here and whatnot, but I know what you're trying to do. I have no intention to bring up the past, Matt. I am not a wrestler anymore. I am not a fighter. I'm a businessman. Lex is not a concern of mine.

VIRUS: Okay, okay.

(He looks at me, and I take another drink.)

Joe BoXeR: But?

VIRUS: He's already brought it up. Hell, he even used it as a way to prove to Duff just how evil he is. People are gonna ask questions. People are gonna know what happened.

Joe BoXeR: Nobody needs to.

VIRUS: Do you think he's paid for his past?

Joe BoXeR: Unfortunately, yes. You killed his mentor. He's been in prison. He's been tortured and destroyed just as I have. He's paid his dues, Matthew. As have I. You would be a fool not to think that I would have loved nothing better than to reject his application and let him rot in the streets, where he belongs. But, I put my personal matters aside, and I made a business decision.

Will I regret it? Time will tell.

VIRUS: I see.

(I feel insecure... I really think we're all going to regret it.)

VIRUS: Regardless, I thank you for giving me the match I've been wanting for weeks now.

Joe BoXeR: I want you to know that I did this for you even though I shouldn't have. You both have put each other in the hospital. There's only one more place to go. The morgue. You've... changed, Matt. You're a dangerous man, and you know what? So is Corey. It's like putting two serial killers in the same jail cell. You just don't fucking do it.

VIRUS: Relax, Joe. Nobody's going to the morgue.

(I try to remain calm and collected, but just the thought of Corey in the morgue gives me an adrenaline shot.)

Joe BoXeR: I want the old Matthew back. The guy who was a cocky bastard but in the ring he was a calculating perfectionist and put people away left and right. The man who loved this sport as much as anyone and was good at separating his personal issues from his career. I don't like this new attitude of yours. You're neglectful...and you only seem to care about Corey. You don't care about your family.

VIRUS: Hey, I flew you down here. I care about family.

Joe BoXeR: Bullshit. You flew me down here to make sure I wouldn't try anything with Lex...and that I would book you against Corey. You care about nothing else but getting even with Corey. Haven't you two caused enough havoc?

VIRUS: Havoc? Havoc!? Are you shitting me? Don't talk to me about havoc, Joe. You got Tara and her brother killed.

(I clearly stepped over the line, talking about his dead wife and brother-in-law. He shoots a cold stare at me and in a quick motion throws his water bottle inches from my face. He gets up from the booth and unlocks the front door. He steps outside, kicking the ground, and any random objects he can find.)

VIRUS: Shit.

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