Then
Flagstaff, Arizona
Some Local Bar…

“Why, Jacob?” Caroline questioned. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

She stood in the doorway of the bar, just a silhouette to him thanks to the sunlight bounding into the musky old place from behind her, but her voice was distinctive enough for him to recognise, and besides, who the hell else would follow him into this hell-hole? Who the hell else would care enough about him to prevent him from gradually destroying himself?

Sadly for him, the answer was no-one.

Caroline loved him for reasons beyond completely alien to him and if McKail could ever get over the fact that she just so happened to be the sister of his late wife, he might’ve even loved her back. Thing of it was, he wasn’t sure if he was even capable of such feeling, not again at any rate. Perhaps whatever the hell he had with Caroline was just the only thing of Mary he still had left and perhaps the only reason he still entertained the notion of a relationship was the fear of losing such a connection. But he didn’t much want to think about that.

McKail allow a sly grin to creep across the corner of his mouth and did not answer her. Instead, he just took another mouthful of his bourbon and let the intoxicating substance do it’s damage. He found the familiarity of the drunken sensation strangely comforting and made him question just why in the hell he tried to give it up in the first place.

Caroline grunted and stormed into the bar, closer toward McKail. The bar door now shut behind her, he could see Caroline in all her glory, particularly noting the ingratiating mixed expression of anger and bewildered spread liberally across her face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She questioned. “Do you even realise what you’re doing to yourself?”

The patrons of the establishment sitting either side of him dispersed, they’d heard this argument before no doubt in their time, probably even coming out of mouths of their own loved one’s at one point or another. They want no part of it and who can blame them? McKail didn’t much want to be involved with it either…

“I reckon so,” McKail finally responded, unable to look her in the eye. “The guy at the AA meetings explained it with pretty well…”

Caroline sighed.

Now
The Bronx, New York
A Liquor Store…

McKail plucked a bottle of Jack Daniels from the shelves and promptly delivered it to the counter; he wasn’t even browsing for anything else. He placed the bottle down and went straight to the task of extracting money from the tight pockets of his standard, nondescript blue jeans, not even bothering to make eye contact with the Korean cashier.

“Why?” He suddenly asked. “Why’d you do it, man?”

McKail glanced up from the notes and coins littering his hand and raised a speculative eyebrow, idly surprised by his flawless New York accent. The question had been directed at him too many times to count all the way through the week already. Hell, he’d only left his motel room once today and already he’d at least fifty enquiries. Just what in the hell have I gotten myself into here…?

“Come on, McKail! There’s got to be a reason,” The Korean pushed. “Why the fuck you join the Affliction? You hate Clinton Sage!”

Ignoring him, McKail threw the right money on the counter and scooped up the bottle of bourbon without waiting for the brown paper bag. The Korean simply glared at him expectantly and desperate for answers, but McKail only shot him a sly grin. Fuck ‘em all, McKail decided. They don’t need to know…

Then
Flagstaff, Arizona
Some Local Bar…

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Caroline said, perched upon the barstool next to him.

“Don’t worry,” McKail began, taking another mouthful of bourbon and allowing the fiery liquid to work it’s magic, “neither do I.”

“Is this because of the Chris Williams Memorial Cup thing?” Caroline questioned, desperately searching for answers. Unbeknownst to her, McKail had none to give. “You did your best, Jacob and that’s the most important thing!”

Yeah right, sure it is…“It was my last shot at greatness, Caroline. My last shot at doing something with my life! My last shot of honouring Mary’s memory! My last shot at making you proud! My last shot at everything! And my best just wasn’t good enough…”

Realising she’d touched on something of a tender subject, Caroline rubbed his shoulder gently. “You just need to get back on your feet, is all. You just need to go back to the meetings and--”

“No.“ McKail shook his head. “Some diseases just can’t be cured, Caroline and some people just can’t be helped.”

Tears began to well up in Caroline’s eyes and she shook her head in disbelief. “No! You don’t believe that, Jacob! You can’t…”

“You believe what you wanna believe,” he told her, “and I’ll do the same.”

Caroline wiped the tears away from her eyes, dismounted the bar stool and began to make her way to the door, but suddenly stopped. She turned right back around and eyed McKail up warily.

“You want me to leave, don‘t you?” She interrogated.

McKail stared at her blankly.

“You want me to walk right outta that door and leave you alone to wallow in your own self pity, don’t you?” She drew closer, the volume of her voice gradually heightening. McKail ignored her and finished his bourbon. “You want me to leave so that you can cut yourself off from the world again and do what you set out to do when my sister, your wife, died. You want free reign to destroy yourself, but this time you‘re more determined than ever to succeed!”

McKail signalled for the barman to fill up his glass and with a little hesitation obliged. Caroline grabbed for the glass before McKail could reach it and threw the contents on the floor. McKail glared at her irate and it was obvious she wanted him that way.

“I know I’m right,” she said, “I just need to know why - I deserve that much at least!”

McKail nodded briefly, then lowered his head. “The promise. I’ve failed Mary. I lost in the Chris Williams Memorial Cup Tournament and I’m unemployed…”

“Ah the promise,” Caroline reflected. “The promise you made your dying wife on her death regarding you being all you can be in the wrestling industry. She told you dominate your profession for her, be successful for her, become a wrestling legend for her…”

“Do not belittle this!” McKail yelled at her, slamming his fist down hard on the unyielding wooden bar. “Do not be little me!”

“Why the hell shouldn’t I?” Caroline responded. “She must’ve known you were more than capable of accomplishing what she asked of you, otherwise she would never have asked it! You’re not even trying anymore! You’ve given up!”

McKail’s filled with rage, but that’s not why he didn’t answer her. She was right and he knew it.

Caroline turned and walked away a second time, breathing heavily. However, before reaching the exit she turned back around for a second pass. “And you know what? You’re not even worth my time…”

This time she did leave and McKail didn’t even try to stop her.