Chapter Thirty-Two

The Rolling Rimmer vs. High Lord Crossbody

Dan

"Fuck," Vince barked as he once again fumbled the half nelson bulldog we were practising.

It was Thursday morning, and we were getting in a final rehearsal for our match later. We weren't the main event this time, so there was a little less pressure, but we were all still acutely aware that our audience had grown substantially thanks to the pay-per-view.

I straightened, breathing hard, and rubbed my nape where he'd been gripping it tight, trying to throw me down. "It's fine, man. You'll get it."

"You're too fucking heavy," he snapped, pacing in the ring and shaking his hands out irritably. He was in a foul mood. He hadn't been when we'd started rehearsing, but he was struggling with this one move today and it was getting to him.

"You've thrown me plenty of times before," I said easily, tugging my shorts higher on my hips. "We've got this."

"Why are you standing around gossiping?" Hogbody barked from outside the ring, puffing on his cigar. "You want to fuck this up in front of a live audience later? Again!"

Vince muttered something under his breath in a seething voice as he stretched out his neck and stalked back to join me in the centre of the ring.

I tried to give him a tiny, reassuring smile as I got back into position. Vince didn't smile back, his jaw clenched and dark eyes simmering with angry determination.

"Go!" Hogbody barked impatiently, snorting cigar smoke out of his nostrils.

Vince flung my arm over his shoulder in a half nelson and grabbed the back of my neck. His other hand dropped to get the waistband of my shorts in a tight grip at my lower back. When he tapped my spine in signal, I bent my knees to help push myself off the mat so he could lift me up and slam me down face-first.

But just like the last few times, he stumbled, a strained grunt tearing from his throat as he bumped into my side and knocked me off balance.

"Fuck," he shouted again, releasing me quickly and shoving a hand through his hair.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Burke?" Hogbody yelled. "You had this the other day. Put your fucking back into it."

"I am," Vince yelled back, then abruptly pointed a sharp finger at Crossbody, who was leaning back against the wall and watching us. "Will you just fuck off ?"

Kenneth glanced up from the couch while Heidi and Mads looked over from the gym area, going quiet. Crossbody blinked in surprise before a condescending smirk tilted his mouth. He gave a slight shrug, arms crossed over his bare chest.

"I'm just waiting to rehearse with Kenneth. Which we would have been doing by now if you didn't keep fucking up."

"You're fucking distracting me," Vince snarled, shaking out his hands again. "I can feel you standing there and willing me to mess up."

"Hey, woah—" I held up my hands and stepped toward him.

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Crossbody drawled, sounding pleased that he'd managed to stoke Vince's rage without even doing anything. "If you could just blame everything on someone else."

"Asshole," Vince hissed under his breath. I shot a confused glance at Crossbody, who was still smirking.

"Relax, dude," I said quietly, gripping Vince's shoulder to get him to stop pacing. "He wasn't doing anything. He's watched us rehearse a million times."

"He's putting me off. He's such a condescending prick."

"You're kind of being a prick right now, too," I said with a frown.

Vince exhaled sharply and scrubbed a hand over his face. After a few tense seconds, his shoulders sagged, head bobbing in a slight nod.

"Sorry," he muttered, then sighed. "I'm just pissed at myself. And maybe a little tired. I should probably take a nap before—"

Just then, Crossbody decided to call out, spiteful mirth colouring his tone. "If you can't do it with five other people in the room, how do you think you'll be able to do it tonight with thousands watching you?"

Instantly, Vince stiffened up again.

"Fuck you," he shouted, shaking my hand off and striding to the edge of the ring to grip the top rope so tight his knuckles bleached.

He even leaned right over the ropes as he jabbed a finger in Crossbody's direction. He looked like he was about to launch himself out of the ring and attack him. Sharing an alarmed glance with Hogbody, I hurried forward.

"I can fucking do it," Vince was yelling. "Stop trying to get in my head, Crossbody, just because fucking with other people is the only thing that brings you any fucking joy."

Jesus. My brows shot up as I glanced between them. Crossbody was an arrogant douche, but that was a little harsh.

He finally straightened from the wall as his nostrils flared, dropping his arms to clench his hands into fists by his sides. "You don't get to talk to me like that."

Vince let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, why's that? Because you're royalty ? No one gives a fuck but you, Crossbody. You're not better than me just because your fucking mommy lives in a palace."

"Enough," Hogbody roared, so loud he broke into a snorty coughing fit and tugged the ever-present cigar out of his mouth as he smacked himself in the chest.

I firmly pulled Vince away from the ropes and hissed, "What's your problem, man?"

" He is," Vince snarled, jerking his chin forcefully at Crossbody, who now looked pissed off and tense. "He's my fucking problem."

"He wasn't even doing anything."

"He was," Vince snapped. "I could hear him laughing every time I messed up."

"It was funny," Crossbody drawled. "It's so basic and you can't even get it."

I thought Vince's head was going to explode. Voice unsteady with anger, he ground out, "I swear to fucking god—"

" What is going on in here?"

Everyone fell silent as the doors burst open and Corey strode into the room, wearing a silk robe over a pair of skintight pink leggings. Cora was tucked under his arm.

Hogbody tried to quiet his coughing, Heidi coming over to slap him hard on the back. Crossbody's nostrils flared again with a slow exhale, and his shoulders gradually unclenched. Even Vince went quiet, all the fight leaving his body.

No one wanted to be chastised by Corey. He had this demure, understated way of making you feel two inches tall without even seeming to say anything too harsh.

Until you went back over it in your head and realised he'd been subtly reading you for filth the entire time.

"I'm trying to meditate," he announced when no one said anything. "And all I can hear is shouting and swearing like I work with a bunch of hormone-riddled teenagers who aren't yet capable of controlling their mood swings."

See?

No one was going to point out that Corey himself had thrown several diva fits over the years. It wasn't worth the repercussions.

Crossbody cleared his throat and tossed back his hair. "Vince was just throwing a tantrum because apparently, he can't actually wrestle."

Vince began vibrating with fury beside me, but he wasn't going to start yelling again with Corey in the room. Instead, he seethed under his breath, "I can fucking wrestle."

"Yeah, obviously you can, dude," I said with a hint of confusion. Vince normally didn't let remarks like that get to him at all, because they were clearly bullshit. Just jabs meant to piss him off.

"And then he started blaming me for it," Crossbody added demurely, shooting a quick smirk in our direction. "I was just standing here. Waiting to rehearse. Kenneth and I have been waiting for quite a while now, actually."

"I'm going to punch him in his pretty-boy face," Vince gritted out. I quickly grabbed his shoulder again, just in case he launched himself out of the ring to actually do it.

"No, you're not."

"Is this true, Vince?" Corey started striding toward the training ring, his robe fluttering out behind him. Cora yipped in excitement as she spotted us.

"I—He's just—He's distracting me," Vince ground out between clenched teeth.

"You would let anyone distract you and take from your moment?" Corey asked, adding a dramatic flair to his voice as it echoed around the room. He swept a hand toward the ring. "These moments in the ring, Vince, they are yours . Your time to shine. It doesn't matter how many times you do it, it is still yours . That moment is your moment. In every moment you are out there, performing for the world."

Some of the tension eased from Vince's frame as he huffed and rolled his eyes. We'd all heard Corey's dramatic, convoluted speeches before. "I know, Corey."

"Are you going to let someone else outshine you in your performance? Take away your moment?"

Another huff. "No, Corey."

"So don't ever let anyone distract you," Corey declared, then frowned as he glanced between Vince and Crossbody. "This kind of energy is counterproductive to all of us. I've noticed tension recently, and I will not be happy if it starts affecting any of our performances. Not at such a crucial moment in Goliaths' history, when our audience is growing so profoundly."

"I couldn't agree more, Corey," Crossbody drawled smugly as he smirked at Vince again. "It would be such a shame if the weakest link among us ruined things for everyone."

"Fuck. You," Vince bit out as I glared at Crossbody.

"Shut up, Crossbody. Vince isn't—"

"None of us are weak links," Corey interrupted me emphatically, frowning at Crossbody, which made the royal fae purse his lips and look away. "I won't have that kind of discouraging talk in the workplace, Crossbody."

Crossbody's lips flattened even more into a grim line as he fidgeted, clearly not a fan of being chastised. By anyone. But especially in front of others.

Eventually, he muttered, "He was fucking up his—"

"We all stumble sometimes. Well," Corey added airily, preening a little and smoothing back his hair. "Most people."

"I seem to recall you taking a while to get the fireman's carry slam when you were up against Brian the other week, Crossbody," Hogbody piped up, raising his brow.

Crossbody gritted his teeth, stiffening up again. "Only because he weighs—"

"There are never excuses," Corey interrupted loudly, then sighed and shook his head as he looked around with a disappointed expression that made us all want to lower our gazes. "These excuses. This tension. All the changes happening." He sighed again and placed a hand on his hip. "I think it might be time to hold court soon."

Gabe had wandered in at some point and was over by the counter making a protein shake. When he heard what Corey said, he turned with an excited expression. "Oooooh."

Vince huffed irritably and crossed his arms. Whatever his problem with Crossbody was, he definitely wouldn't want it aired out in the wrestlers' court.

We didn't have to hold it too often, but it was a way for us to share grievances or any issues we were having, discuss big changes and squash beef. Not that we ever had much beef between us—mostly, we all got along well. But Corey was right—Vince and Crossbody's feud was getting a little out of hand, their jabs and snide remarks and bickering matches happening more frequently.

Corey, obviously, presided over the court as judge, but it was rare that he made decisions any of us disagreed with.

If he tried to mediate between Crossbody and Vince, though… I couldn't see either of them backing down. Let alone apologising and letting it go. They were both too proud in their own ways. And wildly competitive.

But if it was starting to affect Vince's performances…

"That might be a good idea," I said cautiously.

Vince grunted beside me and muttered, "Traitor."

"We haven't had one in a while," Gabe said, wandering over. "We could use it to discuss anything we might want to achieve now that the audience is growing through the pay-per-view. You know, like a team," he added brightly.

Vince stayed silent as Crossbody let out a delicate snort and crossed his arms.

"Yes." Corey snapped his fingers and pointed at Gabe in agreement. "Motivation. Goals. Dreams . We need to set targets. This is our platform to shine as bright as we can, not waste our valuable time bickering like bratty children."

Vince and Crossbody scowled at each other. I squeezed Vince's shoulder and muttered to him, "Look, you know you should—"

Movement out of the corner of my eye made me pause and glance over at the windows that looked down onto the arena. I stiffened when I saw Frank and Beans clinging onto the cage that dangled over the ring. How the fuck they'd got up there, I had no idea.

Frank was jerking back and forth ferociously, like he was trying to make the huge cage swing. Or come loose. But Beans was just staring at me with horrifyingly blank eyes. He didn't look away even when Frank climbed right over him to get higher, using his head as a foothold.

"I want to talk about something at court too," I said quickly, narrowing my eyes at Beans before reluctantly looking away and back at Corey. "Frank and Beans are targeting me. They keep trying to steal my head. Holt's spoken to them, he even took away their air hockey table, but they still keep…" I shuddered. "Watching me all the time."

"Yes, I heard about the air hockey table situation," Corey murmured, raising his brows meaningfully. He gave me an imperious nod. "Of course, Dan. We can't have you worrying. I'll start getting things in order," he added loudly, raising his chin. "We'll hold court soon. Tell the others. I'll inform Holt."

With that, he turned and swept back out of the room. I glanced warily at Vince, noticing he now just looked mildly pissed off but mostly exasperated.

Gabe wandered off to sit beside Kenneth on the couch. Mads and Heidi started working out again, talking quietly to each other. Crossbody shot us one last irate look before striding for the door.

The moment he was gone, Vince exhaled and stretched out his neck. "Let's keep going."

"Of course you're going to keep fucking going." Hogbody snorted irritably, cigar clamped between his teeth. "There's no other fucking option. Start over. These goddamn baby wrestlers," he then muttered to himself with a sneer, shaking his head. "Just a bunch of—"

We all stopped and looked at him. Hogbody faltered, glancing over at Heidi warily.

"Non-gender-specific shitheads," he finished.