Chapter 2

Would he ever learn drinking and staying up late was a bad idea?

Probably not. Cracking one eye open, Jon Moxley stretched his sore body and closed his eyes, feeling the effects from his match the previous night. When would he realize using panes of glass, light tubes, barbed wire and other weapons in wrestling wasn't a smart thing to do? Never. Honestly, he got the biggest high being sliced open and tasting his own blood. It was a euphoric feeling unlike any other. Grunting at a twinge in his back, it took a couple minutes for Jon to sit upright in bed and tried working the kinks out by stretching some more. Nothing a hot shower and beer couldn't fix.

"Fuck." He grumbled, rubbing his eyes and pushed up with his hands to stand, a loud crack resonating around the room moments later. "Goddamn…" That relieved some of the pressure, but not nearly enough.

Danny had one hell of a swing on him and Jon would have to remember to return the favor at some point down the road. They were meant to clash again, especially since Jon was slated to win the CZW championship at the 11th Anniversary show against B-Boy. He still couldn't believe Drake Younger was pinned last night, looking forward to defeating his longtime nemesis and friend for the most prestigious title in CZW. Up until last night, Drake had been champion for 567 consecutive days, nearly 2 years, so how B-Boy defeated him was beyond Jon. Maybe Drake was tired of being champion. Or he was simply scared to face Jon again, not that he blamed the man. They had spilled each other's blood up, down and across the entire country, trying to destroy each other in every promotion they wrestled for. Still, Jon wanted it to be Drake he faced for the CZW championship, ticked off he'd let a nobody like B-Boy defeat him and end his historic reign.

Pulling a cigarette out of his crumpled pack and lighting the tip, Jon took a long drag from it letting the nicotine filter through every vein of his 6'4 frame. He wasn't a small man by any means, though people underestimated him due to his weight. 220 pounds was scrawny when it came to professional wrestling, but it was too heavy to be in the cruiserweight division. Jon knew how to use his height and weight to his advantage, a lot of his in-ring repertoire on the psychological side. The promos he did made him seem psychotic and out of his mind, but in truth Jon was aware who he was. He made his opponents question everything and that was a huge psychological advantage on his part because it was just a small sliver of what a professional wrestler necessitated. In a nutshell, Jon was himself with the volume cranked full blast and worked his way to the top of CZW by destroying everyone in his path.

Wrestling was all Jon Moxley knew.

Growing up in the streets of Cincinnati, Ohio, Jon had to grow up very fast and didn't have a normal childhood like others. At a young age, Jon knew he wanted to be a professional wrestler. It didn't matter how he made his dream come true, but with all the violence and chaos in his life, wrestling was an escape from reality. It made him temporarily forget about the crappy apartment he lived in with his mother and the fact she stood on street corners selling her body in order to put food on the table. It made him forget about thugs forcing him to sell drugs and getting beaten afterwards or the men his mother brought back to their apartment only to end up robbed. In some of his promos, Jon mentioned pieces of his childhood because it fired him up and increased his intensity. That was his trigger and fuel – how he turned his stricken life into something positive.

Finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out, Jon walked out of his bedroom stark naked –He never slept with clothes on unless absolutely necessary- and went into the bathroom, closing the door. He turned the shower sprays on, making them as hot as he could stand before stepping inside, groaning at the hot liquid drenching his body. Planting his hands on the shower wall, Jon lowered his head to let the sprays attack his sore neck and back, not realizing how long he stood there until the hot water disappeared.

"MOTHER FUCKER!" He roared, jumping out of the freezing ice cold shower and gritted his teeth, wanting to kill the landlord of the atrocious apartment building he lived in with his roommate, tag team partner and best friend, Sami Callihan. "I'll fucking cut his dick off and feed it to him."

"I was wondering when you'd get up." Sami greeted cheerfully, walking into the bathroom while Jon dried his body off with a towel and set a cup of coffee down on the sink, pure black. "Been up since the crack of fucking dawn because of that goddamn construction going on across the street." He sounded as grumpy as Jon currently felt.

"Is that what that fucking banging was?"

Sami nodded, rolling his green eyes. "Unfortunately." He walked past Jon and lifted the toilet lid to relieve himself while Jon brushed his teeth. It wasn't weird to them since neither had a woman in their lives and they were brothers. "I hate saying this, man, but it might be time to move."

That was an evil word and Jon refused to talk about it until he consumed his weight in coffee, already downing the cup Sami brought him. "No."

"Jon…"

"No." He walked out before Sami could start ranting about moving, shaking his head. "Too early for that shit."

Jon and Sami met in HWA (Heartland Wrestling Association) back in 2006 when Sami became a member of the faction Jon was part of called The Crew, alongside Dick Rick and Pepper Parks. Back then, Sami was heavy set and not a lot of promotions took him seriously, but the way he moved in the ring at his size and girth was unbelievable. He did things wrestlers his size shouldn't and proved all of the critics wrong claiming he couldn't wrestle. However, the thick weight bothered Sami and he ended up shedding the fat, slimming down and building his muscle mass, becoming known throughout the Independent circuit as 'The Callihan Death Machine' and 'The New Horror' Sami Callihan. It depended where he wrestled what he was called.

When Jon took some time off from wrestling after hitting rock bottom, -He'd gone to Puerto Rico for 6 months and got into drugs- they lost contact for a year. In mid-2008, Jon had finally found some kind of closure and peace with his personal life and got back in the world of wrestling, working for HWA and IPW. He'd heard of CZW and had dipped his toe, figuratively, into the world of hardcore with Drake Younger, so he decided to make his way east and just showed up at a random show. Turned out it was the 10th Anniversary show of CZW. They immediately used Jon and he joined Sami Callihan to make the infamous tag team known as The Switchblade Conspiracy. They were still a team, lethal and unforgiving when needed, but Jon wanted more – craved more. He hoped B-Boy was ready to have a short title reign because Jon would not leave the 11th Anniversary show without it in his possession.

CZW ended up becoming one of the main promotions Jon and Sami wrestled for, so a move from Cincinnati was in order. Shortly after Jon came to the company, they looked for a place to split together and found this forsaken dump a few blocks from The Arena. Jon had a vehicle at the time, but naturally it broke down on his move from Cincinnati and Sami had to help with his own. It was currently the only vehicle they had, sharing it because The Arena and gymnasium they frequented were within walking distance from the apartment. Maybe it was time for a change. Jon really hated moving and had a feeling they wouldn't find a roof over their heads as cheap as they had it now.

On his 3rd cup of coffee, Sami finally made his presence known from the bathroom and joined Jon in the small kitchen. "Look, I know moving is a pain in the fucking ass, but this place is not working out anymore." He refused to drop the subject. "We need a different place to crash, preferably one that keeps hot water for more than 10 fucking minutes."

Jon scrubbed a hand down his face, heaving a sigh and downed the rest of his coffee while lighting a cigarette. "What makes you think we'll find a place this close to The Arena and gym, Sami? Every place we've looked at is booked to capacity." This wasn't the first time they talked about moving and Jon would do it, but they had to be careful with their money too.

"I know you don't wanna hear this…"

"Don't say it." Jon shook his head, reading Sami's mind. "We have to stay on this side of the city or we're staying right here."

The frustration showed clearly on his face, but Sami wouldn't give up until Jon agreed it was time to find a better place to live. "We could look in the paper and-"

How many times did Jon have to tell Sami living with other people was a bad idea? It seemed as though bad ideas were a constant topic today. "No."

Tossing his hands up in the air, Sami grabbed a cup of coffee and glared at his friend, knowing they were stuck together no matter what. They both had to agree with the move or it wouldn't work. "Fine, a different place just the two of us…"

"Preferably cheaper. Around HERE." Jon added gruffly, not looking forward to moving, but it had to be done. This place wasn't habitable anymore.

"If we can't-"

"We will."

His workout was pretty straightforward, though Jon wanted to increase his agility and quickness in the ring. B-Boy could be a high-flyer when the situation called for it, so Jon had to be prepared. He wanted to be 10 steps ahead of his opponent in all matches, having studied some of B-Boy's matches throughout the year he'd been in CZW. If B-Boy could knock off Drake Younger, one of the toughest men Jon ever faced in the ring and business to date, then he really had to be on his A game. Jumping up and down on boxes helped with that, strengthening his legs and thighs immensely. Once they went to train at The Arena to spar for a while, the agility would come into play and Jon wouldn't leave until he felt it was perfected. There wasn't a lot in life he took seriously, but training and working out was definitely one of them. He never missed a workout, no matter how sick or hung-over he was. After jumping boxes, he went to the military press and put 250 on the bar, which wasn't his max, but Jon didn't want to push himself too much. He sat down and began lifting, doing 100 reps without stopping. Sami glanced over at him and knew Jon was prepping for the biggest match in his CZW career, but also didn't want his friend pushing too much.

Training at The Arena went the same way, though Jon kept knocking Sami down. Sami got his own licks in, but he let Jon had the brunt of the sparring contest. He had to make sure Jon was ready for B-Boy, still not believing it wasn't Drake Younger Jon was facing. They were both beat up and tired from the night before, each of them having small stitches in their foreheads from the tag match against Danny and Necro Butcher. Sami ended up being pinned by Necro Butcher to earn a match against The New Horror at the 11th Anniversary show. So that's who Sami had to prepare to face, not too worried about it since Necro Butcher wasn't in shape these days and the man wrestled barefoot for some reason.

"Goddamn it, Jon!" Sami growled, holding his sore jaw and hit the mat several times, glaring up at his smirking partner. "Look, I know you're worried about your match with B-Boy…"

Jon snorted, planting his hands on his hips. "You're diluted if you think that asshole intimidates me. It'll be like taking candy from a baby when I beat him in February. Now stop your bitching and get up. We're not done yet."

5 hours later, Sami called it quits and headed out with Jon, both of them spent from training and sparring. Jon was ready and Sami felt like he could sleep a straight year. They headed to the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. If Jon mentioned cheeseburgers again, Sami would sock him in the nose and he'd end up having a broken nose going into the 11th Anniversary show against B-Boy. Walking down the food aisle, Jon grabbed a few things while Sami hesitated on what he wanted. They ended up agreeing on grilled chicken sandwiches and tossed in some beer along with it. Just for kicks, Sami picked up a paper and ignored Jon's scowl, looking through it while waiting in line to checkout.

"Yo check this out." Sami folded the paper and flashed it in Jon's face, pointing at the ad that caught his eye. "I know it's not a place of our own, but-"

"I said no living with anyone else." Jon scrubbed a hand down his face and fought the urge not to strangle his best friend right in the store.

"Will you just LISTEN and shut your mouth for 5 seconds?" Sami growled, slamming his finger on the paper emphatically, forcing Jon's attention to it. "LOOK, $700 a month that includes everything – even fucking cable! Where the fuck else are you gonna find that? It's a 3 bedroom house, spacious and no lease, so we can leave whenever the hell we want if we don't like it. It's month to month, Moxley."

Jon was not a social butterfly, though he did hang out with a few of the wrestlers from CZW like Sami and Danny. He mostly kept to himself and minded his own business, just making his way up the ladder of the Independent circuit. His main goal was to make it to the WWE, but then again he had tried that route and honestly thought they didn't give a crap about him. Weirder things had happened in the industry though. If Jon made it to the top of CZW, it would no doubt mark the beginning of his ascend to the top of every promotion in the country he wrestled for. Glancing at the ad again, Jon heaved a reluctant sigh and didn't say a word, paying for the groceries with Sami. It wasn't until they were in the car on their way back to the apartment that Jon finally spoke again.

"We can check it out, but no fucking promises."

Grinning, Sami clapped Jon on the shoulder and shook him a little, happy his friend was finally seeing things his way.