Life Goes On.

There is an image.

A shot of a diner. And in the middle of that shot is Bryan Williams.

He sits at a booth, while life buzzes around him.

He sits there frozen.

And then a thought forms in his head. Bryan reaches behind his back.

He produces a handgun. Calmly, he places the muzzle of the barrel underneath his chin.

Nobody pays him any attention.

They don’t make a peep when the gun goes off. Red mist coating the nearby booth, and the patrons in it.

They don’t skip a beat.

“I hate that I’ve become stuck.”

It’s almost a mutter, creeping from his mouth as he stays slumped against the table in front of him. His brains are scattered all over the waitress’ hair, as she serves him another cup of coffee.

Bryan stays silent for a moment, as he slowly rises back to a seated position.

“In whatever form you want to watch this, or me, it has become my prison. I’m not free to go anywhere else, or do anything different, and the words that come out of my mouth become truths.”

He doesn’t like that, Bryan shakes his head as he closes his eyes. The more he speaks, the more it all hurts.

“I am tied to those truths forever, and I hate it.”

He shakes his head again.

“I hate who I am now.”

The intensity of what he says grows and grows, slowly building upward until there is nowhere left to go.

“I hate that everyday there’s something else wrong with me. A new pain, a new issue to deal with.”

Bryan slams his fist into the table. As jarring as it is, nobody seems to notice.

Bryan continues to attack the table, such rage being kept inside for way too long. He takes a hand, and runs it through his hair.

A streak of blood and matter follows.

“I’m stuck in this place now, and I don’t know how to really get out. I’ve been trying to get back to the place I belong, back to the Union Battleground championship. But like I said, I’m stuck to my fucking words.”

Bryan laughs a little bit, still stuck in the void that surrounds him. Tears form in the corners of his eyes, as he quickly wipes them away. He continues to chuckle, as he takes a sip from his coffee.

“I hate a lot of things in this world, but I don’t hate you Daniel.”

The words grow quiet. His voice softens.

“I want to tell you something that’s been stuck in my mind. For the longest time I wondered why Miles held onto that title.”

Bryan pauses, looking at the chaos he’s created around him. The place is a fucking mess now.

Bryan slaps his hand on the table, like a toddler. He spreads around the blood, something that would be normally aggravating to clean up.

“He could have called his shot against Kaven Drell whenever he wanted. He waited, and waited, until he got what he wanted. He knew what he wanted, he wanted Indi.”

The good times are over, as his sullen eyes fall back towards the table again. His voice becomes quieter as he speaks.

This doesn’t last long.

“I want that. I wish I had that, so fucking much!”

Bryan stands up, his voice booming with rage as he clears the table in front of him.

Everything goes flying, creating more of a mess.

The waitress comes back around, pouring coffee on the table where his cup once used to be.

“Daniel, you and I tried so hard to be that person. There’s nothing either of us wanted more, and here we are now - complete and utter failures.”

Bryan gags.

He shakes his head, tears still forming in his eyes. He looks around the diner, nobody pays him any attention.

“For all your faults, your weaknesses, you are not a bad person. You try to be, you pretend to be somebody you’re not. But I see the same scared person inside of you, the same one that lives inside of me.”

Bryan walks up to a full booth, a family enjoying their brunch. Bryan takes a burger from the father’s hands, and stuffs it into his mouth.

A few quick chews, Bryan lets it fall to the floor. Nobody blinks.

A masked man looms in the background.

“Difference is I know what needs to be done.”

Bryan slaps the food out of the mother’s hands, before moving on.

“You know it seems no matter what I’m lead right back to you, our paths keep crossing. It really isn’t what I want to do, this tournament is a means to an end. It’s just another way I can plot myself right back to the top.”

Bryan heads for the door, but it doesn’t budge. As much as he tried it won’t open.

The people around him have stopped. The occupants are now staring at Bryan.

“Pretty obvious.”

He sits down back at his booth, choosing to sit on the table now. Bryan kicks back, trying to relax.

“It’s not glorious either, this collecting of medallions just reeks of something pathetic. Still, it’s all I got.”

Bryan seems amused at that idea, but everybody is still looking at him.

He rushes for the door again, Bryan smashes into it but it doesn’t move.

The masked man is closer now.

“Are you following me? Daniel, can you hear me?”

Bryan punches the glass door, it breaks.

But it doesn’t open.

“I’m sick of chances.”

He punches the door again. Two patrons get up, they struggle with Bryan as they try to stop him.

“I’m sick of trying to get another shot, only to blow it at the last minute. Daniel, I could swear that this is all a bad dream that started with you. I could put all the blame on you, and that loss you gave me.”

Bryan tries the door again, but again this just results in more people trying to stop him.

He’s tired now, Bryan’s chest heaves as he tries to take in air. The masked man stands up, standing behind Bryan.

He stops Bryan from trying again.

“I could put all the excuses in the world about it, and how you’ve done nothing since that win over me. I could go on and on about a lot of things, but I had to come to a realization.”

The man walks over to the door, turning the handle.

Bryan looks on, incredulous.

“This, all of this, isn’t your fault. And it isn’t mine either.”

Bryan turns to everyone in the room.

“We’ve been soft, our eyes have lost sight of the goal in mind. You tried so hard to be noticed, you wanted nothing but adoration from your companies.”

Bryan looks upset, but the masked man puts his hand on his shoulder.

A small gesture of comfort.

“NVR let you down. And I know that makes you sick to your stomach.”

Bryan shakes his head again.

“I know that feeling. Because a few short weeks after taking the loss to you, I took another one. One far greater than I ever expected. I was no longer a champion, and neither were you. So, here we stand. Two lost souls, trying to just find a way back. I know this stings, I can feel the salt pouring into my wounds. I hate it so much.”

The masked man gives Bryan a pat on the head. He slowly grabs at the rooster mask on his head, pulling upwards.

“But I just have to grit my teeth, and get through it.”

Bryan watches, as the mask is slowly pulled off. Revealing nothing.

An empty space.

An empty diner.

“Losses don’t define us, it’s what we do after that does. Just a few weeks ago we were both so close to the end, in Guerrilla Warfare. We both got tossed, one right after the other.”

There is no mess, no blood to be cleaned. A door in front of him that looks to be in pristine condition.

A door that is wide open.

“So, now what?”

Bryan looks at a nearby booth, and we see the rooster mask.

It stays there.

“Two losers stand face to face in a tournament to crown a new champion. It’s not a great opportunity, but it’s a new one.”

There is hope in Bryan’s voice, something that had been missing through this entire thing.

“I might hate it, but I need this.”

He looks at the mask, and hesitates.

It isn’t for long though, as he reaches out and grabs the mask.

“And I need to bury you, Daniel. To move forward I have to put you behind me, and that’s exactly what will happen when we meet. At Lights Out there’s nobody else to get in our way. No friends to help you out.”

Bryan shakes his head, as he looks down at the mask in his hands.

“We are on our own.” He says, in a whisper.

“It’s a scary place to be, but this world is even scarier. So we deal with it. Come Light Out I’ll deal with you, and get this monkey off my back for good.”

There’s a surprisingly hopeful look on Bryan’s face. A stark contrast with the dried tears that ran down his cheeks. His messy hair is dark, and full of bits.

Bryan looks to the camera, giving it a shy smile.

“Maybe then we can both move on.”

He takes the mask, pulling it down over his head.

Nothing changes.

“Until then, know that this wasn’t personal. What I have to do, I hope you don’t hold it against me. It just needed to be done.”

Bryan turns to the door.

And Bryan walks out the door.

Leaving this place behind, for good.