Our cameras cut to the backstage area where Spencer Burke is walking through the backstage area, seemingly aimlessly. His eyes travel back toward the camera guy, poised to ask what’s likely to be a random question-- but he stops as something catches his eye. Quickly, Spencer gestures in the direction of the locker room area and the camera operator follows his lead, power-walking behind Spencer, who moves at a brisk pace toward the figure of Ricky Valero, pulling his luggage behind him out of the dressing room of which the door is marked
GOOD GUYS.
Spencer Burke: Ricky, wait up.
Valero freezes and lets out an exaggerated sigh while tossing his head back.
Ricky Valero: Dear God, Spencer, what could you possibly want right now?
He props his luggage up on its wheels and turns around with his eyes narrowed and staring directly at Spencer.
Spencer Burke: I wanted to follow up with you after that main event against the
new FGA World Champion, Fujiko Mine and get--
Ricky Valero: And get my what, Spence? You wanted to get a sense of how I was feeling after failing to beat Fujiko Mine
again? Maybe poke a little fun at my less than stellar record against her here in the FGA? Because I’m well aware of my lack of success when I step foot into the ring with Fujiko Mine. I’m obviously not happy about it. I’m quite honestly at a loss--no pun intended--when it comes to figuring out what it is I have to do to beat her. I know one day, I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to figure her out and maybe, just maybe, it’ll happen with the FGA World Championship on the line.
The words hang there as Spencer looks toward the ground and then up at Ricky, eyes narrowed in curiosity, perhaps searching for the right question to ask, but Valero speaks up before Burke has the chance.
Ricky Valero: Right now? I don’t have any answers. Not for you. Not for Fujiko Mine. So, please, I’m obviously not in the mood to discuss my loss in the main event tonight, can you maybe just leave me alone? Just one night, can I get the hell out of this building without you up my ass, Spence? I mean, honestly, why are you even still standing here? What else could you possibly have to ask me?
Valero, still staring daggers at Spence, somehow comes a bit more unsettled when he sees the FGA interviewer crack a slight grin.
Spencer Burke: Well. Are there any hard feelings toward your tag team partner, Evan Envi, for leaving before the main event even began?
Valero’s brow furrows, taken aback by Spencer’s question. He’s left speechless for a moment, but quickly shakes it off with a chuckle.
Ricky Valero: Who do you think told him to go home?
Ricky swallows hard.
Ricky Valero: Evan’s had a rough couple weeks between losing
his FGA World Championship at Only the Strong Survive to watching his buddy Abe taken away in handcuffs down in the Dominican Republic. Being the good friend that I am, I felt it was important Evan head out early and get some rest. He’s earned it after carrying this company on his back for the last year and a half.
Spencer Burke: You told him to go home? Because that’s not what he said when I confronted him before your match tonight…
But Valero just laughs Spencer’s inquiry off again.
Ricky Valero: Look, I don’t know what Evan told you, but like I said, he just isn’t in the right headspace right now. And who could blame him? But yes, I told him to go home. So any kind of drama you’re trying to drum up, put it to rest, TMZ. All’s good with The Good Guys. Okay, Spence?
Spencer puts his hands out and nods his head.
Ricky Valero: Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to head back to the hotel to spend some time with my fiance before I fly back home. Your face really isn’t the last one I’d like to see tonight.
Before Spencer can squeeze in another word, Valero grabs the handle to his luggage and turns on his heels, moving quickly in the opposite direction from the FGA reporter. As he disappears out of Spencer’s sight, however, he pulls his iPhone from the left pocket of his black Nike basketball shorts, calls the first name that pops up on his recent calls list, and conveniently places the phone on speaker.
It rings once…
Twice…
Three times...
The fourth ring is cut short. There’s a faint buzz in the background-- the sound of wind whooshing past the ears of the person on the other line.
Evan Envi: Hello?
Valero takes a second to collect himself, parking his luggage and leaning up against the cement block wall lining the corridor. When he senses Evan’s getting ready to hang up, he finally responds.
Ricky Valero: Where were you tonight? Why’d you leave?
There’s silence for a few seconds on the other line. Another
whoosh as Envi’s car moves through traffic on the other line before the Chief calmly responds.
Evan Envi: I didn’t feel well.
He clears his throat.
Evan Envi: Not physically. Not mentally. I… just didn’t wanna bring you down, you know? I feel like as a partner I should be building you up in these big main event matches. And if I can’t do that, it’s better I’m not there.
Silence. Valero bites his tongue and clenches his teeth, strongly considering what he would like to say next but just before he responds, Envi adds.
Evan Envi: I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.
Valero sighs. He bangs his head slowly against the wall and runs his free hand over his face.
Ricky Valero: It’s fine. I just...needed you there tonight. We’re both knocked down right now, dude. And the only way we’re going to get back up is if we help each other. All this...it’s just a minor bump in the road. The Good Guys
always win. This will pass.
There is quiet on the line for a moment before Envi’s voice comes through once more.
Evan Envi: Yeah. Yeah, man… Good Guys always win.
With Valero’s head leaning against the wall, the camera operator slowly retreats from the scene, rounding the corner as the feed abruptly cuts.
