Mox slowly sipped his beer, watching the clock as it gradually changed with each passing minute. One o'clock came and went with nothing. By the time it was 1:03, he laughed to himself and stood up. He headed toward the bathroom to take a piss, but when he opened the door, he let out a yelp. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but sure enough, Nigel McGuiness was standing there, brushing his teeth.

"Nigel? Wha…I haven't seen you in years. Why are you…? Oh, give me a fucking break. Are you the first 'ghost'?" he asked, making air quotes with his fingers. "Did Sami put you up to this? How much did he pay you? This is so fucking stupid…"

"Yeah, you tosser. I am the first ghost, although I'm not really this Nigel fellow you speak of. It's just easier for us spirits to take the form of someone meaningful in a person's life, you know?" He spit out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth with water. "So you're ready for this, yes?"

"Ready for what? To go on some magical spiritual journey through my past so that my present and future will be so much clearer!" Mox made wild over-the-top gestures with his hands as he spoke.

"Yes, basically."

Nigel took the young wrestler by the hand and instantly they were in what appeared to be the living room of a drab, barely furnished apartment. Jon soon realized that it was the apartment he grew up in. He slowly walked around the room, taking in all the details that time had caused him to forget. The dust on the TV. The mark on the wall from where his marker accidentally slipped off the paper when he was doodling one day. It was all here. He felt a shiver run through his body. He'd done so much to separate himself from this place. It made him uncomfortable to be back there.

He came across a newspaper shoved in between one of the couch cushions and saw that the date was December 24, 1993. It would've been difficult to guess that it was Christmas Eve by the look of the house. The only hint of decoration was a small tree in the corner of the room. It only stood about three feet tall and it was covered in paper ornaments and a short strand of white lights. It was no Charlie Brown tree, but it wasn't anything spectacular either.

Mox crouched over by the tree and played with one of the paper stars between his fingers.

"I remember this. I was really proud of this tree because I found it and decorated it myself. My mom couldn't afford one that year, so I cut down a small tree that had been growing across the street. Her boyfriend told me it looked like a piece of shit, but fuck him. This little tree was awesome."

Nigel noticed as a smile appeared on Mox's face.

"It seems you loved Christmas at one time."

"Yeah, when I was a kid. It's kinda magical then, right? Like even if you're a poor kid and in a tough neighborhood, Santa still makes it to your place. You don't really see the negative side of it that you see as an adult."

The two of them were startled when they heard the TV turn on behind them. They turned around to see a young boy sit down on a pillow in front of the screen. The narrator was explaining how the Grinch was stealing Christmas and young Jon's eyes were wide and happy. Nigel watched as adult Jon stared at his young reflection, so enraptured by the show.

A woman who looked about thirty suddenly burst into the room, dressed up like she was going out on the town.

"Okay, I'm going to work now. Don't do anything stupid like burn the fucking house down, okay?"

"Yeah mom. I'm not a fucking idiot."

Nigel placed his hand on Mox's shoulder. They watched as his mother took a swig of vodka before leaving the house. Mox knew where his mother was going, and Nigel could feel how tense the young wrestler had become. The door slammed closed and young Jon hit himself on the head three times, causing adult Jon to flinch.

"That's what I'd do to try to get the image of my mother working out of me head. Thought it might make me forget. Never worked." He sighed and rubbed his temple. "Can we leave? I get the point that I wasn't always bitter about the holidays, but this is pissing me off now."

Nigel nodded and snapped his fingers. They suddenly appeared in a smoky crowded bar. Rock versions of Christmas music played in the background, but they could barely be heard over din of the people.

"This is…?" Mox inquired.

"This is the annual HWA Christmas party," Nigel explained. "Always on the weekend before Christmas, every year. The one we're watching is from 2004."

They moved through the crowd until they found a table in the back where a freshly 19 year old Jon Moxley was holding court. A pint of beer was in his hand and a curvy young woman was on his lap while he was surrounded by other women and a few of his fellow wrestlers.

Nigel raised his eyebrows at the scene. "I think I may have been up at the bar that night and hadn't seen you. Spill it. How'd you get drinks when you were still a fuckin' kid? Did you pay someone? Did the ladies slip them to you?"

"Nah. I had a really good fake ID. No one ever questioned that I wasn't twenty-one. It was pretty fucking cool."

They watched as the teenage Mox bit the woman on the shoulder and pulled the strap of her dress down with teeth, making her giggle and moan. Moments later, the founder of HWA, Les Thatcher, came out of the sea of people and stopped to ask if Jon was having a good time.

"What do you think, Les? There's only one other thing that could make this night better and I'd be arrested if I did that in public." He leaned his mouth forward and grazed his teeth on the woman's ear.

"Well Jon, I'm glad you're having fun tonight, but remember we still have training in the morning. So pace yourself, kid. I don't want you showing up late, drunk as shit tomorrow."

"I'm appalled, Les! You think I'd do such a thing? I am a professional! I will be on time tomorrow, but not early." He turned his head and placed his lips against the woman's ear. "Because I never come early," he said suggestively, sending the woman into a fit of giggles.

"Mate..." Nigel groaned. "That was fucking terrible."

"I know, I know. I thought that was good dirty talk back then." Mox sighed and dug his hands into his pockets. "So is there anything else then? I'm pretty sure I continued to drink, fucked that chick, then showed up to training on time but hungover as shit. Les just shook his head at me, but let me stay."

"No, that should be it." He was about to snap his fingers when he paused. "Actually, there is one more thing. Remember the conversation we had when you were thinking of quitting wrestling years ago? That was a major crossroad in your life. Things could've gone two different ways, but you chose to stick with wrestling. This is another crossroad. An even bigger one. Think about it, mate." He put his thumb and middle finger together and snapped.

Mox opened his eyes and found himself back in his living room. He chuckled to himself and muttered under his breath. "Ghosts and spirits, huh? It was just a weird dream."

He decided to go sleep in his actual bed. Maybe being able to lie down would make him less restless. He pulled the blankets up over his body and sighed. His skin began to feel warm against the soft fabric and he closed his eyes, awaiting sleep, when he heard a chain rattle.

"You know, for a guy who acts so tough in the ring, you don't look so tough now, all snuggled up in bed."

Mox clicked on his lamp and looked around his room for the mystery intruder. His eyes settled on Jimmy Jacobs playing with the chain he always wore around his neck.

"Jimmy, you're not real. I'm in bed dreaming right now and if I were to jump out of my window right now, I'd wake up and you wouldn't be there."

"Maybe. But I wish I had a camera right now so I could take a picture of you in your jammies. I think it would make for some great ammo against you in our feud, don't you?"

Mox sighed and moved to the edge of his bed. "Okay, spirit dream Jimmy, I'll bite."

"Oh I know, you've bit me many times before."

"Just fucking humor me, dude. What are you here to show me?"

"I'm here to show you the stuff going on right now, dude. The present. Reality."

"I know what my reality is. I'm having a really fucked up whiskey dream and I'm going to wake up with a big fucking hangover."

"I didn't mean your reality, dude. I mean what's happening now to people close to you. Your friends."

"Okay fine, Jimmy. Just snap your fingers already so we can get this over with."

"I don't snap my fingers, Mox." A sadistic grin spread over Jimmy's face as he pulled the chain over his head and rattled it together in his hands.

Mox found himself face-to-face with one of his old HWA friends, Jake Crist. They were sitting at the dining table with Jake's wife Nevaeh and their young daughter having a nice dinner for Christmas Eve.

"Why are you showing me this?" Mox asked.

"I'm showing you some of your peers who are mature enough to know when it's time to be adults. Your peers who have some sort of plan for their future. Jake and Nevaeh here, they have their daughter and each other to protect and care for. They're happy working the indy scene as long as they can come home at night and be with each other."

"That's great and all, don't get me wrong, I'm really happy for Jake, but I don't have a wife or kid."

"That's not the point, asshole. Come on now, I know you're smarter than that, Jon." He shook the chain again and the setting changed to that of a restaurant.

"This doesn't look familiar to me," Mox declared.

"It shouldn't. I also don't expect you to remember this girl's name." Jimmy pointed to a woman bringing food to a large party. "That's the chick you banged at the Christmas party in 2004. Recently she decided to go back to school to finish her degree. She takes classes part-time and works here to support her studies. She made a conscious decision to better herself. "

"That's actually kinda cool… But, dammit Jimmy, we never saw each other again, how is she important to me? Stop wasting my fucking time."

"Fine then. One last stop. The big one."

Clang and they're sitting in the tub of someone's bathroom. The door opened and in walked one of Mox's closest friends.

"Drake! Wait, are we gonna watch him take a shit or something? Come on Jimmy, I don't wanna see that!"

"Dude! Calm the fuck down! Just…pay attention to this one, okay?" He put his hands up, trying to soothe his peer.

Drake locked the door behind him and took the top off of the toilet tank. He reached his hand inside and pulled out a waterproof bottle with pills in it. He opened it up, threw three in his mouth and used some water from the tap to swallow them down. He hid his stash once more and washed his hands while he stared at himself in the mirror. After about a minute, he sighed and shook his head before he left the bathroom.

"I knew Drake did some recreational drugs, but I never knew it'd gotten this bad. He's been doing so well with his girlfriend lately, but fuck, he's actually hiding it from her right in their house?"

"He might be hiding it, but she knows full well what he's doing. Luckily for him she loves him enough to stick with him through it and hope that he makes a positive change. I hope for both of their sakes, he does. He's at a crossroad, just like you. He can continue down the path he's going or he can make a decision to change. People can change, if they want to put the effort in. It's never too late, dude."

Jimmy turned to Mox and clapped his hand on his back.

"Before I go, I will mention something about your present, and mine. You and I, this past year, have been having some amazing matches together. Some of the best in our careers. If you listen to the message we've been trying to tell you tonight and you get your shit in line… dude it won't be long until you get signed. They'll notice the matches we've had in DGUSA. You're too good for them not to. But if you keep digging down into this rut you're in… I don't know. Shit man, don't be like me a year ago."

"Hmm," Mox pondered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Jimmy, I think you may be riigh-!"

His sentence was choked off by Jimmy throwing the chain around his neck from behind and pulling.

"We're rivals, bro. Never turn your back on me, come on…" Jimmy wrapped the chain around his fist, tightening the metal links into Jon's throat and making his gasp for air. He felt himself getting woozy and sleepy and all at once, everything around him went dark.