After the conclusion of Liner Notes’ second and final set for the evening, they were met with an uproar of applause. Mitch found himself both melancholic and relieved when it was over at last. Needing both solitude and nicotine, he went outside for a cigarette, and was briefly joined by Nate who praised him and the band’s performance, but mostly him. He allowed for it, since he wanted the ego boost.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with your little gang?” joked Mitch, giving a once-over to the wrestling gear that he’d switched into and biting back a comment about how that maid costume was a much better fit. Nate rubbed the back of his neck and stammered on about how he had a few minutes before the match started, and how he wasn’t even a participant, etc etc.

Eyeing him, Mitch took a particularly heavy drag. If Nate wasn’t busy, he’d toss caution to the wind and ask if he wanted to go fuck around. Take a risk and blow him right there behind the building, and then some. Getting dicked down to escape his emotions was the equivalent of throwing a bandage on a shotgun wound, but Mitch ran out of ideas about how to take the edge off.

Thankfully, Nate was gone before Mitch could make an ass of himself.

He snuck back inside when he finished smoking, catching the latter half of the tag match where Coven failed to capture the titles from The Court. Following that was the match for the Full Moon Title: Eulalia the Grim Spectre vs the reigning and defending champion, The Dark Lord. Unsurprisingly, the match was a banger. Erin, the wrestler portraying Eulalia, brought over 12 years of wrestling expertise into the ring. She migrated from Oregon to Philadelphia many moons ago, and funny enough had a bit of history training with Avi way back in the day, crossing paths several times throughout their time on the circuit.

Victor aside, no one had come so close to pushing Maya to her absolute limit. The issue -and everyone in the room knew this by now- was that Maya thrived in tight spots. When someone outsmarted her, she tapped into a whole other level, morphing in the embodiment of that Bear Grylls’ “adapt, improvise, overcome” motto. Something completely otherworldly, possessed by the likes of Mildred Burke and Bruiser Brody and Ray Mendoza, and also maybe a few serial killers as well.

Sandy likened her to a very cool anime villain that kept powering up, which Maya appreciated.

The only insight that anyone had on it was Louis, since they dated right around the time they both enrolled in the school; apparently, she was obsessed with vintage and obscure matches, constantly pulling out oddities such as VHS rips of hardcore Joshi matches from long defunct promotions of the 70s and 80s.

Much like Coven, The Grim Spectre’s endeavor ended up being an exercise in futility as well. All of the matches were fantastic, absolute barn burners. But the sense of so few getting what they truly wanted hung heavy from the rafters, which Mitch related to more than anything. Sometimes that’s how wrestling went: the highest highs or the lowest lows, and nothing in between to serve as a buffer. Sometimes a concrete floor broke a freefall.

At the end of the night, Jodie got on the microphone and thanked everyone for attending. While the roster tackled breaking down the wrestling equipment, Mitch assisted his band by getting gear into Darius’ minivan. He swore up and down to Darius that they would play again sooner rather than later, and to text him no later than Monday so that they could coordinate real dates, promise. Before Basil climbed into the passenger seat, he wished Mitch good luck with everything, and Mitch huffed out a laugh.

They exchanged farewells, then he rejoined the roster and got to work cleaning, but kept to himself so that he could think clearly. He was proud of the band’s work, but uncertain as to what the next steps were; the idea of picking up where things left off, of creating a whole new album and scheduling shows was daunting, but Darius seemed so certain of them. In comparison, Basil was ambivalent, always working on something and committed to nothing.

It must have been a freeing way to go about life, mused Mitch. Not that anything stood in his way from taking charge and living like that now, he just knew that he’d fuck it up astronomically if he made any sort of attempt. The thought was put far out of his head, and instead he hung out at the back wall and gave all of his attention to Jodie. With the last of the attendees gone, she stood in the center of the room and gave a congratulatory speech to everyone; the challengers for the titles were praised for their efforts, and the title holders were congratulated for their successful defenses. Avi also got a special shoutout for his debut, and he turned and gave a bashful wave to everyone amongst the whoops and hollers.

“Like he said to Louis: you’re all on notice,” Jodie smirked. How long had she been waiting to make that remark? “Alright, let’s finish cleaning this place up and get the fuck outta here!” Everyone scattered at the declaration, not needing to be told twice in their collective exhaustion.

As the night progressed and the workload lightened, people began to filter out due to having work in the morning or family to deal with (and in Nate’s case, both). The rest were dismissed when the ring was loaded up and nothing remained other than bits of trash, which Jodie assured them that she, Victor, and a few other folks (Mitch) could handle. Once everyone else departed, Victor’s voice boomed across the building. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl!” he told Jodie and eagerly embraced her with a hearty pat to the back.

“Thanks, Dad,” Jodie’s voice was muffled in his shirt. “Couldn’t do this without you, though.”

“Team effort,” he corrected her, and she nodded. It was silent for a moment, and then a sniffle punctured the air, and Victor whispered in a soothing tone. Mitch took that as his cue to be anywhere else, and settled on going to the bathroom so that he could scrub the paint off of his face. He reached for the door’s handle, but it swung open at the same time, and Avi stood on the other side of the doorway.

“Man of the hour,” Mitch greeted, pulling a chuckle from Avi.

“I didn’t even wrestle!” Avi deflected, and stepped aside so that Mitch could walk in. “Threw some haymakers, talked some shit. Nothing too crazy.”

“Yeah, but you’re what everyone’s talking about. The new big bad,” quipped Mitch. He stepped inside, and was surprised when Avi followed instead of going on his way.

“Hey, so not to stalk a rockstar in the bathroom…” Avi started, and Mitch snorted.

“I’m just gonna clean my face off.” He rolled his eyes, muttering rockstar under his breath in amusement as he stared at himself in the mirror. “Keep talking if you want, I can multitask.”

“Well.” Avi coughed. “I was uh. I was hoping that you’d autograph this?” Mitch’s head whipped around, and he stared down at the copy of Greywater and a marker that Avi held towards him. For an instant he forgot what he was doing in there, and was about to make ask why the hell Avi had those in the bathroom, but the static between his ears built sharply and he couldn’t concentrate.

His mouth went dry. He wanted to decline. He wanted to tell Avi that he wouldn’t like that album, or that he shouldn’t listen to it. He wanted to yank it away and run, snap it in half and throw it into the nearby pond. Because if Avi listened to it, he was going to learn something awful and be witness to how fucked up and terrible Mitch was in reality. Just because Avi wasn’t an option or wouldn’t ever reciprocate his feelings didn’t mean Mitch wanted to present all of his flaws and trauma under bright lights.

Instead, with a trembling hand, he gingerly took the CD and marker, and joked about who he was making it out to. Avi laughed so hard, and Mitch was sure that his heart was going to rip itself from his chest; that was something he couldn’t take a chance on, he already had a condition, and he wondered if he should go to the hospital. He signed his name, handed the CD and the maker back, and in a meek tone said, “You know you’re a dork, right?”

“Yeah, but you love me,” Avi smiled, and Mitch smiled back.

He smiled despite the fact that a bomb landed in the restroom and instantly vaporized his body, leaving blood and viscera splattered on every surface. Someone would have to clean that up, just like how they would have to clean up the sink after Mitch vomited into it when Avi finally left the bathroom.