Zeek Williams reaches down pulling his aviator sunglasses from the clean white sheet and slips them on over his eyes. Slowly he lifts his other hand to his lips placing a cigarette in between his lips and takes a long drag. He slowly exhales the smoke in a large, thick, white cloud. Williams sits on the bed in his run-down, hole-in-the-wall, motel room. It’s a single room with a door separating the room from the pisser and shower. There is a double bed, a small wooden table with two chairs, a wooden dresser with a large mirror, and a small table sitting on a shaky looking stand. Sitting with his back against the flat wooden headboard, Williams wears a black T-shirt, loose-fitting denim jeans, and black tennis shoes. His hair is messy and his face is rugged with lack of shaving. A bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey sits between his legs, the top twisted off. Several more bottles lie scattered across the floor, another drinking binge for AWA Hall of Famer. The silence over the room is broken by a sudden knocking on the front door of the room. Williams straightens up just a little at the sudden knock at his door but after a moment of hesitation he responds.

Zeek Williams “It’s open.”

The door slowly pushes open and in steps former AWA beauty, Savannah Richards. Savannah wears a black corset-type shirt with a white dotted pattern and sleeves over a black bra, tight-fitting denim jeans, black high heeled shoes, and big dark sunglasses. She steps into the motel room, her arm raised near her face, a lit cigarette between her fingers. She looks around the room with a raised brow and a serious expression. Savannah takes a drag off her cigarette before dropping it to the floor and stepping on it with her heel putting it out. Savannah’s eyes move around the room finally coming to rest on Zeek. She stares at him for a moment before speaking.

Savannah Richards “They said you were dead.”

Zeek looks around the room quickly then looks himself over before turning his attention back to Savannah. Zeek relaxes back against the headboard once more and turning his attention away from Savannah.

Zeek Williams “Am I not?”

Savannah closes the door behind her. She looks around the room once more, seemingly not amused. Finally Savannah turns her attention back to Zeek.

Savannah Richards “See you’re still slumming it up.”

Zeek Williams “I see you’re still enjoying daddy’s money.”

Savannah Richards “Fuck you.”

Zeek Williams “Fuck you? …I expected more.”

Savannah Richards “As did I…”

Savannah kicks an empty bottle out of her way and slowly moves to the table. She sits down, crossing one leg over the other and folds her hands on the table top. She looks at Zeek for a moment without saying anything.

Savannah Richards “Here I spent all this time tracking you down expecting to find the proud Zeek Williams. Instead… I find this.”

Zeek sighs leaning towards the wall slightly and putting his cigarette out on the wall then tosses the cigarette butt on the ground beside the bed. He turns his attention back to Savannah.

Zeek Williams “Sorry to disappoint, love.”

Savannah lowers her eyes, seemingly in disappointment. Finally she raises her eyes with a smile.

Savannah Richards “What have you been up to?”

Zeek shrugs nonchalantly and seemingly uninterested by the whole visit.

Zeek Williams “You know… just living off all those millions Carter thought I was worth. Leading the life I knew I was destined for. …Avoiding my mother.”

Savannah shakes her head slowly in silence.

Savannah Richards “Zeek, Carter signed you to that multi-million dollar contract because you were worth it… you are worth it. Carter knew the fans would pay good money to see in those seats and watch Zeek Williams do what only Zeek Williams could do. I mean, Christ, you were the most dominant competitor in the AWA. You were inducted into the hall of fame before you even retired. How many wrestlers can say they were inducted in the hall of fame by the age of twenty-two? You’ve been doing this a long time Zeek and you’ve been amongst the elite ever since you first stepped foot in a wrestling ring.”

Zeek’s eyes are lowered. On the outside it would appear he is not even listening to the words that come from Savannah’s lips. Williams raises the bottle to his lips and drinks from it.

Zeek Williams “It was a good run. We had fun eh?”

Savannah Richards “Yes Zeek, it was fun.”

There is a moment of silence before Zeek breaks it again. His voice low, with a hint of annoyance.

Zeek Williams “What are you doing here, love?”

Savannah sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. She opens them again, looking directly into Zeek’s.

Savannah Richards “You need to be saved, Zeek. Look at you, you’re sitting in a shitty motel room in the Midwest of all places and for what? Because you’re afraid to go home? Because you’re afraid to face who you are? You’re running around, staying on the move, ducking everything and everyone. You’re living like a fugitive and for what purpose? What are you running from?”

Zeek remains silent as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of Camels. He places a single cigarette in between his lips and lights with a black Bic lighter. He takes a long drag on the cigarette and exhales the smoke slowly. His eyes come to focus on Savannah’s but he still says nothing. Savannah sighs.

Savannah Richards “I signed with this promotion. It’s just getting off the ground. It’s called Dynasty Wrestling.”

Zeek shakes his head slowly.

Zeek Williams “I don’t wrestle anymore.”

Savannah nods her head slowly.

Savannah Richards “Marcus Gold is running the show over there. You know he’s always been a friend, Zeek. He’s not like Jayson Carter, he’s not like everyone in the AWA, he’s loyal, he cares.”

Zeek nods his head slowly and takes a drag from his cigarette.

Zeek Williams “So the suit sent you in search of me… to recruit me.”

Savannah shakes her head. Her eyes wide, a pained look on her face.

Savannah Richards “No Zeek. Marcus never said a word about you and Dynasty Wrestling. I mean he asked if we talked and how you were doing, of course, but he didn’t send me here to recruit you. It’s actually quite the opposite. It was me that told Marcus he should bring you to the DW and it was Marcus that told me you don’t wrestle anymore.”

Zeek Williams “And you ignored the information?”

Savannah sighs.

Savannah Richards “I had him draw up a contract anyway.”

Savannah pulls her shirt up a little revealing a folded packet of papers tucked in the waistband of her jeans. She pulls the papers free and unfolds them before setting them on the table top.

Savannah Richards “This is not the AWA, Zeek. Dynasty Wrestling is nothing like the AWA. You know Marcus, you know he shares your sentiments when it comes to the sport of professional wrestling. Just looking at the figures on this contract you will see that. I mean, Marcus has offered you as much money as he possibly can, but it’s nothing like Jayson Carter and the AWA could do.”

Zeek scoffs defiantly and takes another drag off his cigarette. Savannah lowers her eyes and slowly pushes herself up from the table.

Savannah Richards “Well Zeek, I’ll leave the contract here. Just promise me you’ll look over it.”

Zeek expression suddenly turns angry.

Zeek Williams “Look over it! Fuck that contract! Fuck professional wrestling! It was professional wrestling that destroyed my life! I lost everything because of this sport. I lost the love of my life, I lost my best friends, I lost my fucking self respect acting like a fucking prostitute being pimped by this promotion and that promotion!”

Savannah hesitates for awhile then finally nods her head. She moves to the front door and pulls it open. She pauses halfway out the door and turns back to Zeek, pressing herself against the door to peer at him.

Savannah Richards “Think about it Zeek. It’s better than you sitting here killing yourself. Think about how you felt every time you stepped in that ring and did things other competitors dream of doing. I want to come back to wrestling Zeek. I want you to come back with me. …You haven’t lost the love of your life, Zeek.”

With that Savannah exits the motel room closing the door behind her. Zeek sits on the bed, his eyes narrowed, his expression intensely irate. In a flash Zeek cocks up and hurls the bottle of whiskey at the far wall. Upon impact the bottle shatters into hundreds of small shards, liquid shooting out in all different directions, forming a wet spot on the floor.