Psyche Devyne sits on the couch in the living room of Bryan Williams place. Bryan is in another room, doing his own thing. In front of her is a laptop on the coffee table. It is open, with the Skype window filling the screen. Even though they had just been there before Christmas, she still kept on her regular schedule of calling her parents. The familiar chime set in as she hit the call button, waiting for her mother to answer it. Finally, it is answered and her mothers face comes up on the screen. Psyche beams at her mother, excitement filling her.

Psyche: “Hi mum!”

She blows her mother a kiss, her smile practically reaching her ears.

Mrs. Devyne: “Hi sweetheart! How are you doing?”

Psyche: “I’m okay. I’ve been cleared to get back into the ring. Still in a bit of pain… but I think I’m ready.”

Mrs. Devyne: “That’s lovely. And how’s Bryan? You said he was injured at the show?”

Psyche nodded, a small frown forming.

Psyche: “Yeah... He got pretty beat up. Was a really rough match. Poor thing might be out for a while. I’m a little worried about him. But I’m here… I’ll take care of him. I think he’s sleeping now anyways. Have to wake him soon and make sure he’s alright.”

Her mother nodded, a look of concern over her face.

Psyche: “Is everything okay, mum?”

Psyche raised a brow.

Mrs. Devyne: “Yes… yes. Just worried for you and Bryan is all. Don’t worry, love.”

Psyche couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something else. She looked around the scene behind her mother. Or what she could see, anyways. She searched for her father, who was usually in the background or heard somewhere else in the house.

Psyche: “Where’s dad?”

Her mothers face fell slightly. The older woman couldn’t stop it from happening. Panic filled Psyches body. Her mothers face told her something was up. She couldn’t help how she felt, even before her mother spoke a work.

Mrs. Devyne: “I… We didn’t… I didn’t want you to find out now.”

Psyche: “Where’s dad!”

She half yelled it, though kept her voice a bit lower to not disturb Bryan. Her mother frowned, looking away from the camera.

Mrs. Devyne: “He’s in the hospital…”

Psyche: “Why? Why is he in the hospital? What happened? What happened, mum?”

Her words came out quickly as if they were all one long word. She bit her lip to take her thoughts away from the tears that were about to force their way out of her eyes.

Mrs. Devyne: “He had a heart attack on New Years Eve. I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t want to take your mind away from your night.”

Psyche: “I wasn’t even in a match, mum! I wasn’t even fighting! How could you not tell me?”

Mrs. Devyne: “But Bryan was, darling. You needed to be there for him. And so was your friend. You needed your mind there. You needed to be there for them.”

Sadness filled Psyche’s face. Her head dropped. A tear fell onto her leg.

Mrs. Devyne: “Oh sweetheart… I’m so sorry.”

Psyche put her hands up to her face, hiding it.

Mrs. Devyne: “I want to be there… I wish I could comfort you my darling.”

Psyche brought her head up, eyes red.

Psyche: “I’m coming home.“

Mrs. Devyne: “No! No, no. You need to stay there. You have a match coming up. And you need to be there for Bryan. You need to help him.”

Psyche frowned, closing her eyes for a moment.

Psyche: “Then I’ll come home next week. After my match. Even just for a few days. Just to see daddy. To see you. I’m supposed to be there. I’m supposed to be there for you. I’m supposed to take care of my family.”

Her mother nodded.

Mrs. Devyne: “He’s okay right now. He’s attached to tubes and wires and all that. He did wake up for a moment, surprisingly, last night.”

Psyche looked up at her mother on the screen. She waited for her to continue.

Mrs. Devyne: “He passed out quickly after. But…”

Psyche: “But what?”

Mrs. Devyne: “He just told me to tell you he loves you. And he’ll see you wrestle soon.”

Her mother nodded, tears filling her eyes. She watched her daughter on the other side of the screen. Psyche lost it then, closing her eyes and letting her tears flow. Her face twisted into a pained expression. It was so hard not being home.

Psyche: “I need to go. I love you, mum. I’ll be home next week, okay? I love you.”

Her mum nodded, understanding. Psyche was never really one to show her emotions in these types of situations. She was usually the one to comfort those around her. The strong one. But she couldn’t be that person right now. She couldn’t help comfort her mother. And that killed her inside. Her mother gave her a bit of a nod.

Mrs. Devyne: “I love you, Psy. I love you so much.”

Psyche frowned and closed the laptop. She got off the bed, walking into the bedroom without thinking, going into the bathroom. Bryan was asleep on the bed. She pushed the door closed, the sound a bit louder than she had intended. But she wasn’t really thinking about that. Whimpers escaped her throat as she slid down against the door and onto the floor. She drops her head into her hands, sobbing as quiet as she could.

---

“I go up this week against Zerek Lyle. Some Greek “God” that has clearly bestowed his awesome power upon us. And by that, I mean he seems like someone I should just roll my eyes at and shake my head. He sounds like a cheap version of every other “God” in wrestling history. Everyone claims to be God. The fact is, he doesn’t exist. And if he did, you would even be close to being at his divine level. You’re like a flea on the lion skin cape that a Herculean-like man would wear. You’re just lucky to be riding on his cape-tails.”

“Honestly… I don’t even know who you are, really. That may be like me saying I don’t know who Ian Bishop is… but it could also be like me saying I don’t know who Remy Petsonfer is. I’m going for the latter. Because he doesn’t exist. And to me, you kind of don’t either. To be quite honest, you’re just filler before my eventual match with Julliet. You’re facing me to see if I am okay to get back into wrestling. How does that make you feel? That you’re only good enough to have a match against a previously injured woman. Congrats. This place obviously thinks highly of you.”

“You probably rely on having a tag team partner… because really… that’s all anyone has seen from you. You using someone else to win. Getting breaks throughout your match so you can hop right back out there with full health. Sorry to break it to you, love… but this match isn’t going to work the same for you. You don’t get breaks. You don’t get to sit out portions of your match so that your teammate can put in some work. I’m not giving you any kind of break.”

“You see… some weeks I have ups and downs. This week… I’m seeing as an up week. I foresee myself beating you. I have other things on my mind. I am going to get this match over with, claim my victory over you, and go home. Then… I’ll wait for my next match. The only one that matters to me right now. Be it next week or in three, I will have my match against Julliet. And I will demolish her in the same way I do you.”

“I am here to show you just how ungodly you are. Bring you back down to earth and show you your mortality. I will be like Kratos… a mere mortal… ripping your head off at the neck. Smashing your face in. Removing your broken legs from your body. I will show you what us mortals can do to “Gods”. You have nothing, love. You will be nothing. You are nothing on your own. I can’t wait to show you that.”

---

Her sobs continue, seeming to never end. She can’t compose herself. She can’t give herself even a small break. A soft knock is heard on the door after a few moments. She goes silent, her body almost freezing. The tiniest squeak comes from her throat. She couldn’t hold it back.

Bryan: “Psy? You okay in there?”

She didn’t answer. She bit her lip, trying to make herself think of the pain of that instead. It wasn’t helping quick enough.

Bryan: “Can I come in? Is everything okay?”

She let out a shaky breath as she stood up. She looked at herself in the mirror, disappointment washing over her face. She looked awful. She slowed her breathing, trying to calm herself. She finally got some words out.

Psyche: “Uhh… just… give me a minute, love. I’ll be… out in a minute.”

The words came out a lot better than she thought they would. But still not perfect. She leaned towards the mirror, frowning at her reflection. She ran her fingers along the bottom of her eyes, fixing the makeup that had run a bit. She grabbed a tissue, using that to clean her face a bit. She stared at herself for a moment longer, annoyed with how she looked. Bryan’s prying eyes would see right through her. She sighed, holding back more tears as she bit the inside of her mouth. She opened the door to the bathroom, now met with Bryan’s chest.

Bryan: “Are you okay?”

Psyche: “I’m…”

She stopped for a moment, keeping her head down.

Psyche: “I’m okay. Just not feeling well.”

He nodded, frowning at her. He brought her close to him, placing a kiss on her forehead and hugging her gently. He had to be careful with his arm.

Bryan: “We’re both broken, huh?”

She nodded slightly against him.

Bryan: “Did you call your mom and dad?”

Psyche closed her eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from crying now. Her shoulders shook, which he quickly took notice to.

Bryan: “Hey, hey… what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

She stayed quiet other than the small sounds coming from her as she cried. Bryan panicked a bit, not understanding what was going on. He tried to look at her face, trying to figure out what he could do.

Bryan: “Psyche please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Psyche: “My dad is in the hospital. He had a heart attack.”

She forced the words out through sobs. Bryan pulled her even closer with his good arm.

Bryan: “I’m so sorry, babe.”

Bryan knew enough not to ask questions. He’d find out sooner or later. He just stood there, holding her in his arms. The two stayed in their embrace for a long time, Bryan comforting his girlfriend in the only way he could. With silence.