The HWA’s future was still uncertain, even with the union of the Celts. Breeze had decided to use one of his options. This was not the preferred one but on such short notice Breeze needed a wrestler of the quality deserved to be in the HWA. This wrestler he needed would be found in France. The place of elegance and innocence. Elegance and Innocence summed up the man he was waiting for. The man he waited for was a man who had taken over French wrestling. He had a grace far more complex than Breeze could understand. He was not pleased at waiting for this man in such conditions but he would have to. The man he was waiting for was named "Le Garcon Angélique" This meant Young Angel.

Almost as if Breeze’s thought had triggered him a shadow was seen in the fog

Breeze: Le Garcon Angélique? Is that you?

There was no answer

Breeze: Corey, Le Garcon Angélique?

He waited in silence

Corey: Yes, it's me.

Breeze sighed with relief; he was cold to the bone and needed a hot cup of chocolate. Breeze had watched Chocolate the film and was hoping the hot cocoa here was as nice as represented. He doubted it though

Breeze: It's about time; you're late

Corey: Yes, so? Come on; let's go somewhere else to talk.

Breeze stalked out of the shack and into the fog, soon the full figure of Corey Farmer appeared

Corey was surprisingly young looking. He wore short golden hair and had deep brown eyes. He was wearing something very classy, even though it wasn't really be suitable for such weather. A gray shirt over his black pants and black shoes. He had the look of a teenager but the stare of a cold man.

Breeze liked the man; he was not as innocent as he looked yet as deadly as his eyes told. He was by far the greatest wrestler France had produced in the last 30 years. Yet he was not arrogant or obnoxious. Breeze respected the man's talent and almost respected the man himself

Breeze: Long time; no see Corey Farmer. You seem to have got younger over the years

Corey: Probably. You haven't changed at all.

Breeze: You know why I have sent for you?

Corey: Yes, to help with something although to what I am unsure

Breeze: Can we go somewhere else; this is not pleasant for me?

Corey: Yeah, all right. It's right after that corner. Come.

Breeze continued to walk through the fog with Corey by his side. Breeze's feet splashed against the puddles yet there was no noise coming from the feet of the man next to him. Breeze found this odd but continued all the same

Corey walked almost like if he was levitating. He glanced at Breeze and saw his curious gaze. The French angel just smirked and pointed towards an ancient looking building. It wasn't really big yet it felt big. As if it had a presence to it. The old white stone had been the victim to heavy acid rain showers over the years and it showed. Yet it stood there, unmoving against the natural forces. Corey led the way and they entered. The place was almost empty, except for some women and some old men. They went to sit at a table.

Breeze: What is this place?

Corey: This is a friend's restaurant. I can have what I want for free. It's called, "L'Arche".

Breeze: I don't care what it is, I’m starving. Can you order something please?

Breeze glanced around

Breeze: Oh and get some hot chocolate as well

Corey smirked.

Corey then called for the waiter.

Corey: S'il te plait, tu peux nous apporter un truc a manger? Et, aussi, deux chocolats chauds! Merci.

Corey: I just asked to be served.

The waiter walked away.

Breeze: Talk in English when you are around me, I don't want to have to search my mind of French to translate every word you say

Corey: Now, what suppose we get down to business?

Breeze’s answering stare was one not impressed

Corey seemed to be keeping back a laugh.

Corey: And why would you need my help?

Breeze: I need your help because I need your help, now will you come to America or not?

Corey smirks

Corey: Without any better reason, I don't think I'll accept your request.

Breeze: You owe me one

Corey: That's how you want me to pay my debt? Come with you in America?

Breeze: I need your wrestling abilities alongside me to stop a force from taking over the federation I am in

Breeze's face creased with thought

Breeze: You'll make much more money there

Corey: Money isn't a problem for me.

Breeze: You'll be more famous worldwide

Corey: I'm satisfied with my fame, thank you.

Breeze: You'll have more fans

Corey seemed to consider this option.

Corey: Nah. I have already a lot of fans here.

Breeze: In America you have the dollar and doughnuts and pool houses and sunshine and lots of women

Corey: And about the crime rate? The sick murders? The rapes? And I'm not even talking about the obese people over there. No really, I think I'll stay here. It's much better.

Breeze drinks more of his chocolate whilst thinking of more ways to convince Corey to move from France to America. He couldn't blame him. France was normally a beautiful place whereas America was filled with problems.

Breeze: And what's so special about France? At least America has real competition

Corey: You don't know anything here. There's more competition here than in America. And if the competition isn't so great here, why come and seek my help? Won't you find better wrestlers in America?

Breeze grumbled, he had a point

Breeze: I'm just about sick of your attitude, you owe me big and I've come to collect

Corey laughed

Corey: Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble but you can't always get what you want.

Breeze: Fine, what would make you come to America?

Corey took a sip of his chocolate and thought about it.

Breeze's face was like a thundercloud, his dead eyes focused on the youthful face of Corey Farmer. He knew Corey was probably loving this

Corey: All right. I have something that might make me come to America.

Breeze: Name it

Corey: You.

Breeze eyes flashed up

Breeze: What?

Corey: You and me, singles match. One on one.

Breeze laughed

Breeze: Come on Corey, I know you've improved but really. I've come for your help not a war

Corey: I don't want a war. After I help you with your battles... I want a match against you. You asked me what I want, I just gave you the answer. Now you decide... Do you want my help, yes or no?

Breeze gazed down into his mug, after a long time he raised his head

Corey: ...Yes?

Breeze: I don't see the point in it

Corey laughed

Corey: Fine. I can understand that you're scared of me. That's comprehensible. Well, I hope you can find the help you need back in the USA.

Corey finished his chocolate and got up. He was ready to leave.

Corey: Good luck to you.

Breeze's face hardened

Breeze: Wait!

Corey smirked.

Corey looked at Breeze in the eyes.

Breeze: I have no other choice

Corey's smile widened

Corey: Meaning?

Breeze: I accept your request

Corey sat back at the table.

Corey: That wasn't that hard, was it?

Corey giggled

Breeze grit his teeth together. Suddenly remembering why he had hesitated to ask Corey. His immaturity grated on his teeth, as did his stubbornness

Corey: I feel like I'm annoying you. You sure haven't changed.

Corey smiled, as if to tease the man sitting in front of him.

Breeze focused his eyes on the face of the man before him, he knew well enough not to insult him in case he changed his mind

Breeze: No, of course you’re not annoying me

Corey laughed out loud

Corey: Oh man... You are so desperate? Haha!

Breeze was trying hard to control his temper. The man in front of him was right, he was desperate for his help. And this French Angel played on it to its fullest. Breeze's face remained expressionless

Breeze: When will you be able to leave here?

Corey's laughter faded away and a smile appeared on his young face.

Corey: When I want to.

Breeze: You're pushing me too far, do you realize you're close to a near death beating?

Breeze grinned for the first time since he got there

Corey just stared back at Breeze with his trademark smirk.

Corey: You think you're scaring me? You want my help? You will have to abide by my ways and by my conditions. Simple as that. Can your little brain understand?

Breeze was beginning to think his acceptance of Corey's request was the right one. He suddenly wanted to beat him senseless

Corey started to laugh again but not much.

Corey: I hope you won't regret accepting my request.

Breeze stood up

Corey looked at Breeze and kept his smile.

Corey: You going somewhere?

Breeze: Yes, I'm going to find a hotel

Corey: How long do you plan on staying in France?

Breeze: One day, I'm leaving tomorrow. I'll be at the Charles de Gaule Airport at noon tomorrow to catch my flight. If your coming I'll see you there, if you're not then...

Breeze walked through Corey almost knocking the young Angel over

Corey laughed again.

Corey just laughed out louder.

Corey (yelling): Don't trust to hope I’ll be there

Breeze gave Corey an evil look before slamming the door of the building

He looked out at the street names before taking a piece of paper from his pocket. The paper was a map. He looked around and carried down a street, eager to find rest and comfort within a warm French hotel

Breeze soon found the hotel he was looking for

It was a huge white building with two golden horses on the front of it as an emblem. It read 'Le Meridien' Breeze walked into the hotel. A small woman with long brown hair and dimples looked up at him. They all looked so young and innocent in France. Breeze resented this.

Breeze: Hello, I'm booked in here

Receptionist: Welcome to the Meridien. What is your name, please?

Breeze: Mr James Breeze

Receptionist: Hmm... Yes. Mr Breeze. Your room is ready. It's the Room 304. Here's your key.

Breeze accepted the key and took the elevator to the floor required. He walked out of the elevator and along the floor to his room. As he opened it up he noticed the fragrance. An adoring fragrance it was and it was rare to find such a smell in a hotel room. Maybe it wasn't in France. He fell onto the bed and looked across the room. His luggage had arrived, he was glad of that. He did not want to have to buy new clothes. He lay back on his bed and found himself watching television. He continued to do so until he felt drowsy. He undressed and took a shower before climbing into bed to sleep. He could not sleep for some reason, his mind drifted back in time. Since he had left Corey Farmer his laugh at stuck in his head. The same laugh, Breeze tried to get it out of his head but was incapable of

He closed his eyes

The laugh continued.

He was in Canada; Breeze found his memory straying back to when he was barely fourteen. He was struggling to run up a cold slope of snow

Breeze: This mountain although not huge was big enough to take someone two hours to climb. It was new to him, he and the other 11 wrestlers hand picked from around the world had to climb this. It was to improve endurance as well as strength. Each started at a different position and the wind was ghastly so no one could see anything. They just had to keep on going. To climb to the top today would earn Breeze even more praise from their trainer. Their trainer was a small middle-aged man with grey hair called Alexander. He was wise and new how to train the very best. This was Taloybak, Boothin Peninsula, Canada. The home of the Elitia Training Camp. The 12 wrestlers currently there were only accepted because they were the best. There were two people from Britain. One from Scotland, James Breeze and one from Ireland. Breeze couldn't think of his name. One from Spain, five from America. Two from Canada. One from Mexico. And one from France...

This was a race; the winner would live the highlife for the next month, they would get the best of everything. No chores, no more early mornings. This was to add incentive. Breeze and the others had trained together and this was their first competitive race. He was enjoying it regardless of the pain. He wanted to beat the French wrestler more than anything today. As soon as the French guy arrived Alexander had treated him better than the rest. He even openly told the rest that they should admire this kid. And what made it worse he was a full two years younger than Breeze. Breeze had been there for years and this new guy just arrived. This boy, and thought he was better than Breeze. Breeze would show him

Breeze's leg gave way and he fell flat on his face. He could just about see Jeff Ralston behind him. The best of the American bunch. Breeze was confident he would win this race. He continued to climb, eventually crawling. He was almost there.

If he could climb this mountain before anyone else it would make him the favourite of Alexander. And it would make life a lot easier for him. He breathed deeply and carried on. There was no way anyone could have gotten up here faster. No way

Breeze sprinted the rest of the distance up and fell to the floor at the top. He looked up and saw he was at the top of the mountain. He looked over the edge to see at least 3 others climbing up

Breeze shouted in triumph at the rest of them

He was cut short though by another voice

He turned round in astonishment

In front of him stood Corey 'Young Angel' Farmer

Corey: Hi there. You're a little late.

Corey smirked and then laughed a little. He enjoyed his triumph.

Breeze felt like exploding

Breeze: Nice win, I wouldn't get used to it though

Corey just smiled.

Corey: Well, you should get used to being second when I'm around.

Breeze: I've been running this place for two years. I've never been beat at anything yet

Corey: Until now. Things change.

This school was special; it was for the most promising boys in the world. They would be scouted at different training schools and brought there. They trained them young. Breeze had joined when he was 12, two years younger than you’re supposed to. Corey joined at 12 but he had only just turned it. He had beaten Breeze at that. The thought of making 12 year old boys run through snow was ethically wrong to some people but it produced the best wrestlers in the world. The normal age to join was 14 but James was there earlier. Breeze had to go to this place anyway, he could not stay with his family for some reasons and had been sent here to live with Alexander. A distant relative of his uncle. They may have wanted a better life for Breeze but Alexander made his life hell and as soon as Breeze had arrived there at the age of seven he had been trained to become a wrestler. That was the main reason he was able to train with the other promising candidates at the young age of 12. Corey’s mother had died and so he had to go there, but he had been asked to go before and always refused. Never wanting to leave her.

Breeze: You were lucky, that's all

Corey: You believe in luck? Luck is for losers, my friend. Luck is for the weak.

Breeze: You think you can just swan in here and take over? I don't think so French boy, this is my turf

Corey: Oh my, where did you learn to talk?

Corey giggled.

Breeze had found out that Alexander knew Corey's mother and that was one of the reasons that Alexander treated Corey better. Corey was the youngest person ever to be accepted in the Elitia Training Camp. Breeze also knew that Corey's mother was dead

Corey: And where are you from exactly? Let me guess... America?

Breeze laughed

Breeze: My accent isn't American is it?

Corey: Are you usually a sore loser or is it the first time?

Breeze: I'm not a sore loser

Corey: You say you're not but you act like one.

Breeze: I earned the right to be here, you didn't so don't try and say I'm the one that's acting

Corey laughed at Breeze's comment.

Corey: Oh really? Well, let's say I'm a smart guy.

Breeze: Ha, you mean let's say your only here because your slag of a mother is dead

Corey smirked.

Corey: You can't insult me directly, eh? You have to talk about my mother. Say anything about my mother again... and I swear to God, you’re dead.

Breeze: Okay, I'm sorry

Breeze held back a laugh

Breeze: What I meant to say was that your slag of a mother is dead and you have no father

Corey started to laugh and then rushed at Breeze, punching him in the stomach.

Breeze flew back onto the snow, breathless and unable to hold Corey back

Corey started to throw fury punches at Breeze.

It would have continued for much longer had Alexander not intervened. He grabbed Corey and pulled him off of Breeze, he held him in one arm

Alexander: What's going on here?

His face was a picture of rage

Breeze (pointing at Corey): It was him!

Breeze put on an innocent face and held his bleeding nose

Corey was in rage as well. His face was red.

Corey: He insulted my mom!!!

Breeze laughed: Look at him trying to talk American, the little foreign refugee

Alexander: Enough of that, did you call his mom James?

Breeze: I don't know what he's talking about

Corey: Yes he did! He said my mom was a slag and that I had no father!

Corey had angry tears running from his brown eyes.

Alexander: It doesn't matter now, both of you get back to the mansion and you'll go together. Any more fighting and I'm not letting you training with the others. Remember, I told both your parents I'd look after you. I'm not letting you fight each other. No go on

They grudgingly left

Alexander: Oh Corey, good win. No more chores for the next month. The rest will make up your share, including you James

Corey couldn't help but grin.

Both walked home, Breeze in front of Corey. Eager to get away from him. Not a word was spoken on the whole 3-hour walk back to the mansion with only the cold for company

It had begun there, Breeze 14, Corey 12. It didn't matter, even if the circumstances in which they arrived there were similar

When Alexander arrived back at the mansion with the other boys he had gathered them all at the main room, where a huge fire roared. Today was the day that the trainee of the month would be announced

Corey had been here barely a month

Breeze left his room, wearing his blue tracksuit. With a huge Scotland flag on the back of it. He entered the huge hall; he was usually the most punctual. He opened the door to find Corey Farmer already there. He had a similar tracksuit except the blue was lighter and the stitching on the back was of the French flag. Breeze walked right past him to the other end of the room and sat on a chair. He never made eye contact as he awaited the rest of the trainees and Alexander

Eventually everyone showed up. Breeze had won for a record last 4 consecutive times, and had won the last 7 awards out of the last 12 awards in the last year

He was expected to win now; it had been a good month for him

The winner would be allowed to go home and if they had none, which was only Breeze, the Irish boy and coincidently Corey, they would be allowed to go to a theme park in Montreal with Alexander and his wife Shelley.

The little ceremony in which every boy was eager to win continued later on. As Alexander was about to tell everyone who the winner of the prize for trainee of the month was Breeze was almost off his chair ready to walk to the front

Alexander: Now, onto this months best student of wrestling, which I'm sure you've been dying to hear. The winner I'm please to announce is...

The room was silent, each boy almost holding their breath. Except Breeze who sat there with a smug look on his face ready to stand up

Alexander: Corey Farmer

Breeze almost fell over, his face turned white and he dropped back onto the chair. A number of boys had turned round to see his reaction

Corey walked to the front of the hall and hugged Alexander. Breeze almost jumped in the air with rage, how dare he?

BReeZeX03: A few boys in the small audience shouted speech as was customary

Corey smiled; he was slightly embarrassed.

Corey: Well... erm... Thanks. Heh! I'm really glad to be the trainee of the month. Didn't expect that, really. And... Erm... well... Thanks!

Corey laughed a little.

Corey: Unlucky to everyone else though

Corey looked straight at Breeze

Corey: There’s always next month though

Breeze stormed out of the room, leaving Corey in there with everyone else, probably getting praised

He could hear Corey's laughter from outside the door as he stalked off

Breeze sat up, he shook his head and looked at the clock, it was 10.30am. Not long until his flight

Breeze jumped into a shower and got dressed. He grabbed his luggage bag and took a taxi to the Charles de Gaule Airport #. He got out and waited on one of the seats until either his childhood nemesis arrived of the plane boarded. He looked down at the Rolex on his left wrist. It read 12 noon. The plane was boarding he knew this because of the loud English tinted with a French accent blaring from a speaker somewhere informing him and the other passengers.

He sighed and grabbed his bag, he picked it up and walked onto the plane

As Breeze walked in the plane, he seemed a bit taken aback for a moment before narrowing his eyes of anger. There, sitting near a window in the First Class was Corey Farmer. He was sipping a glass of champagne and reading a magazine. The Young Angel turned his face, feeling someone was staring at him, and noticed Breeze. Corey put on his trademark smirk and raised his glass as to salute him. Breeze looked like he was ready to beat the hell out of the Angel, right there and then. But he controlled himself. Corey was here. He was coming to America. That was the goal of his trip here. No point of ruining it now. So he sat down and prepared to have a long flight back to the USA.

Breeze: I see you made it here then

Corey: Yeah. Seems like it.

Breeze: I presume you know little of why I've even asked for your help

Corey: We got a lot of time ahead of us. So, I suggest you tell me the whole story.

Breeze: Well, the federation I am in now is one heavily outnumbered and outskilled by a group of wrestlers that call themselves The Militia

Corey: The Militia?

Breeze: Yes, I said so didn't I

Corey: Would you mind controlling that temper of yours, please? Thanks. And really, you asked me to come just to stop a bunch of American asses? You're really making me uncomfortable here, you know? Me, a superstar, stooping so low to fight scum? Please. Are you that bad of a wrestler?

Breeze held back reaching out and strangling him, this was not the first time he had suppressed rage

Corey restrained from laughing seeing Breeze's face.

Breeze: What are you laughing at?

Corey: Oh, nothing you should worry about.

Breeze ignored him

Breeze: Anyway, there are good wrestlers in America but none can match this group. This federation needs help or it will end up being the Militia Wrestling instead of the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance. That is something I cannot allow to happen. It needs to be stopped, that is why I want you to join this federation

Corey: I sure hope the competition is good there. I hope they're not all as bad as you are. Man, that would be such a waste of my time.

Breeze: Stop, I've had enough now

Corey: Already? You're even weaker than I thought. You're deceiving me, you know.

Breeze: Oh, how's that?

Corey: Hello? I just told you. Are you deaf as well now? Dumb and deaf, that's not a great mix.

Breeze: Do you want a fight now, is that it? You've been pushing for one now since yesterday and I'm more than happy to oblige

Corey: Show some manners. Living in America sure spoiled you. I have something called "class". We will fight, as we agreed. There will be a proper time and a proper place.

Breeze took some deep breaths to control his temper

Corey started to mimic Breeze.

Breeze: It's just like when we were kids, you always talking down to me. Thinking you're better than me, anymore of your bullshit and you can forget about my request I can find someone else

Corey laughed.

Corey: You sure? I mean, I can take a plane back to France when we arrived in the US. You know what? You've upset me now. If you don't apologize right away, I will go back to France.

Breeze's hand flashed out at Corey only to be stopped by his other

Breeze: I'm going to the bathroom

Corey: Fine. You will apologize when you come back.

Breeze stood up and walked to the bathroom. Corey was even more annoying than he himself remembered. He was pushing him to the edge of becoming berserk. Breeze through some water onto his face and started to think. He remembered that he needed Corey and it wouldn't be a long time until he would actually get a match against him. This was about the only thing he could do from crushing the young Angel's neck between his hands. He thought of success and used it to hold onto when walking back to the nightmare he was in. He sat down again, to the opposite of Corey

Corey: You always take so long in the bathroom? You're having PMS? You sure look like it.

Breeze faked a laugh

Corey: A laugh? That's new coming from you. Even fake. So... I'm waiting for your apology.

Breeze (quietly): I'm sorry

Corey: What? What did you say? Speak louder.

Breeze: I think you heard

Corey: No, I didn't. You speak so bad, you shouldn't be surprised. Now, say it or else I won't be helping you.

Breeze: I'm sorry Corey

Corey couldn't help but laugh.

Corey: Great, great.

Breeze took some earphones from his bag and put them on

Breeze opened his eyes only once before the attendant called that it was 5 minutes till they landed

The time he did Corey looked at him dead in the eyes, a sick smirk crossed his face

Breeze was glad to get off the plane. He walked off the plane and waited to see if the French bastard he wanted to help him was anywhere near him. He had to wait for a long time before seeing the Frenchman, which was a mystery to him considering he was next to him on the flight.

A few moments later Corey walked from the plane

Corey: Oh my... you snore when you're awake?

Breeze ignored the last comment

Breeze: Where do you want to stay whilst your here?

Corey: I'm staying in your mansion of course, I just hope its clean

Breeze: You're what!?

Corey: Don't make me repeat myself. You expect me to stay in a hsabby New York hotel. I think I'll stay at that huge mansion of yours. I seen it in a magazine a few months ago and I liked it. It was on some small magazine, you were barely involved in it

Breeze was about to protest but ultimately arguing against this man was pointless

Breeze: Okay

Breeze walked over to a limousine next to a man standing with a card, written on it was Breeze

Breeze: Perfect timing

Breeze entered the limousine, behind him trailed a man pushing a metal trolley filled with five suitcases, all belonging to Corey Farmer. He put them all into the trunk. Corey didn't even offer to help

They arrived at the mansion no less than an hour later

Breeze called on his butler and some maids to come and collect the luggage of the French Angel

Corey: Not bad, not bad at all.

Breeze grunted

Corey: Now, where is my room? And if ever the room doesn't suit my taste, you're in for some trouble.

Breeze: You can choose your room, except my room and Hayleys' room

Corey: You don't expect me to check every one of them, do you? Just give me the best one.

Breeze: The best is mine, then Hayleys. I'll give you the best one after those. Coincidently its on the east wing, nowhere near mine

Corey: Thank god. No more of your snoring

Breeze continued to walk to the door of the mansion, followed by Corey and 4 maids and a butler with his luggage

Corey: So, who's Hayley?

Breeze: Erm, well she's my fiancé

Corey raised an eyebrow.

Corey: Your fiance, eh? How come you two don't share the same room?

Breeze: What makes you say that?

Corey: Well, if your room is the best and Hayley's the second best... It most obviously means that you're not sharing the same room, right? What's wrong with you? Having... some problems with your manhood?

Breeze: No

Corey laughed.

Corey: Yeah, sure. So James Breeze is impotent... Whoa. Does the world know? Hehe!

Breeze sighed and opened the door of his mansion; he walked into the mansion

Corey went on laughing.

Corey: Didn't even Viagra work?

Breeze ignored Corey and walked into the living room

Sat down on the couch was Hayley, his beautiful fiancé. Who at the moment would not utter a word to him, or not a nice one. Not until he quit wrestling and she stood by her decision.

Corey looked at Hayley and flashed a friendly smile at her.

Corey: Breeze, are you not going to introduce us?

Hayley gave Breeze a curious glare

Breeze: Hayley, this is an old friend of mine. Corey Farmer

The Word friend came out with difficulty

Hayley: You've never him before

Hayley stood up and walked over to Corey

Corey: Nice to meet you, Hayley. You look lovely.

Hayley giggled, Breeze groaned

Corey: Votre beaute m'eblouie au plus haut point. Vous etes comme un rayon de soleil dans cette sombre demeure. Je me sens honourer d'etre en votre presence. Puis-je baiser votre douce main?

Corey took Hayley's hand and kissed it.

Hayley: Merci, je suis tres touchee par tes mots.

Corey seemed nicely surprised.

Corey: Tu parles le francais?

Hayley: Oui, je suis assez bonne, on va dire.

They both shared a little laugh.

Corey: Eh bien, je t'apprecie deja.

Hayley: Ah, merci. Moi aussi je t'apprecie. Alors, tu es un ami de James?

Corey: "Ami" est un bien grand mot. Disons que nous nous connaissons assez bien.

Hayley: Ah je vois. Bien, je te souhaite la bienvenu ici. J'espere que les Etas-Unis et ce manoire te plairont.

Corey: Ah je me sens deja bien.

Hayley: Mais bon, disons qu'ici tout n'est pas du meilleur gout, tu vois.

Hayley glanced at Breeze

Corey smiled

Corey: You have a very nice fiancé, J. At least you have some taste.

Corey winked at Hayley who smiled back.

Breeze: Corey can I speak to you outside for a second?

Corey: Sure. See you later, Hayley.

Hayley: I hope so

Breeze walked out into the white marble hall and shut the huge oak door behind him

Breeze: Let's get one thing straight okay?

Corey: Okaaay. What is it?

Breeze: I love Hayley and I know what you're like with women. If you even try and go further than being a friend with Hayley I will rip out your skeleton through your mouth. That's not a threat. It's a promise. You've already done it to me once and I'll be damned if you're going to do it again!

Corey: Well, well, well... Seems like you're one insecure little man. Don't you dare threaten me... or promise me... whatever! Don't you dare do that again! And... one more thing... no one ever told me what to do.

Breeze grabbed Corey by the throat and lifted him off the ground and against the wall

Breeze: She means more to me than wrestling ever will so don't try and threaten me about leaving to France when it comes to Hayley

Corey started to laugh and then became serious.

Corey: Put me down... right now.

Breeze: Why should I?

Corey: You need my help. And upsetting me won't help you a tiny bit.

Breeze let Corey go

Corey brushed himself and stood straight

Corey: Don't do that again.

Breeze with all his rage compacted over the last day now released spoke without any remorse

Breeze: Or else?

Corey: First, I will destroy you. Then, I go back home.

Breeze laughed

Breeze: Destroy me? What, like you did 5 years ago?

Corey now seemed a bit annoyed.

Corey: The past is history, my friend. I'm talking about now. And there are many ways to destroy a man. So be careful.

Breeze's eyes were cold, ice-like as he stared straight into Coreys'

Breeze: You're here to help, not make matters worse

Corey thought for a moment and then smirked.

Corey: We have a deal, don't forget.

Breeze: I remember

Corey: Good

Breeze: I'm tired and want some sleep, if you want anything ask one of the maids or the butler

Corey: All right. I will see you later, then.

Breeze: I hope not but its possible

Breeze walked up the stairs turning round only once

Breeze: Corey?

Corey: Yes?

Breeze: Stay away from Hayley

Corey smirked.

Breeze gave him a dark look before turning and leaving Corey standing at the bottom of the stairs

He entered his room and lay back. He began to think…

The next day he had a scheduled meeting with Tristan Wolfe. It was almost as if he had to search the world for wrestlers good enough. Tristan was Irish, Corey French. Himself Scottish. It was a strange mixture. But a mixture of gold, platinum and diamond. It was no poor mixture but of the extremist wealth. Breeze closed his eyes. He had much to put up with in the last few days. Corey and Breeze had never got along and Corey’s attitude to Breeze was always one of confidence and arrogance. It was like this to piss Breeze off. This what seemed to be the sole purpose of his life. Breeze hated him, and Corey hated Breeze in return. Corey came for one reason, because he owed Breeze and because there was a chance Breeze would never ask for his help. Corey feared being in debt to Breeze for the rest of his life, even until after his death. So he grabbed the opportunity with both hands. He tried to cover it up with excuses; of course he wanted to fight Breeze. Breeze saw through him, he had done since they were both younger than 15. Breeze relaxed before falling asleep.

The next morning he awoke fresh. He walked downstairs and looked into the kitchen. Dressed and ready to leave. Corey was sat there with Hayley eating some breakfast. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. He was about to go past without saying anything but Corey saw him

Corey: Breeze!? Breeze!?

Breeze looked back around the corner of the door

Breeze: Yes?

Corey: Good morning, look who I’m sat with?

This was to rub in the fact Breeze had asked him to stay away from her and he was defiant he would

Breeze: Nice

Corey: Where are you going?

Breeze: Just somewhere

Corey: Can I come?

Breeze: No

Corey: Bu…

Hayley interrupted

Hayley: Don’t worry you can come out with me, we can go anywhere you like

Corey had planned this and was enjoying it, his grin said it all

Breeze left the mansion and slid into his car. He was not happy

To meet Tristan Wolfe was a suggestion from the owner of the federation and so James Breeze had to oblige. To refuse would not be acceptable and so he continued to the HWA arena to meet Tristan Wolfe so they could 'talk'. He couldn't help feeling nauscius as he drove the remaining distance to the arena. He stepped out of his car and move through the white halls of the arena to Tristan Wolfe's locker room. This was far from an ideal situation and it wasn't a very wise one from the HWA Owner. Their ego's would surely clash and this week had seen Breeze become more and more frustrated. He was not sure that he could hold back his hatred and rage for this Irish man if the situation demanded it.

Breeze took a deep breath, which he noticed and found disturbing before knocking on the door of Tristan Wolfe's locker room

He waited

Tristan mumbled to himself as he walked over to open the door. He was clearly displeased at not having a match for this Saturday, yet, he was still required to be at the HWA event. It's not exactly the best day when you have to sit down and watch others do a job that you could be doing, and better still, Neil had made it blatantly clear that the Militia was to get no breathing room what-so-ever. And so here he was.

Tristan opened the door to his locker room, surprised to see the man standing before him as James Breeze, his seemingly new-found "ally."

Breeze stared at Tristan, the eyes were the windows to the soul. Tristan's eyes showed a reflection much deeper than most. Breeze could not find the words to say so he settled with the basics

Breeze: Hello

Tristan opened his mouth to respond but, instead, a smile crept across his lips as he seemed to be doing his best to suppress a laugh. Tristan stepped aside, nodding to Breeze and allowing him entry into the room.

Breeze's face, hidden from Tristan was one not impressed, he knew that the Irishman was trying to stifle a laugh and he knew why. This did not bode well with the soon to be new HWA X-Treme Champion

Breeze: I was told to come here

Tristan Wolfe: Is that so? Well ah can only think of one person who happens to have a keen interest with our litttle "alliance" so ah have a feelin' we're both here for the same reason.

It was clear by the way that Tristan had said the word "alliance" that he wasn't too fond with the idea of teaming up with Breeze, yet knew that the situation had called for it. Regardless, he still tried to be civilized with the man.

Tristan Wolfe: Ye want anythin' to drink? I got beer, whiskey, and more beer.

Breeze: A double whiskey

Breeze muttered: I've got a feeling I'm going to need it

Tristan went and prepared Breeze's drink, bringing it back with him as he had grabbed a beer for himself. Tristan handed the alcoholic beverage over to Breeze as he popped the top off of his beer and sipped away at its contents.

So what can ah do for ye?

Breeze: I'm not sure, I'm here to 'sort things out with you'. I'm not sure how to approach it given my feelings on you

Tristan Wolfe: Well ah can assure ye laddie, the feeling's mutual. However, this isn't about our hatred towards each other anymore. 'Tis about the Militia running things here in the HWA, and us doin' something about it. I dun't know about ye, but ah'm not prepared to bow down to the likes of Ryan Maxem and his goons.

Breeze: Neither am I, but settling hatreds isn't easy for anyone. No matter how great someone thinks they are

Ah am pretty great, aren't ah?

Tristan laughed at his comment as he took another swig of beer, things beginning to get to that weird-sort of comfortable-norm with James Breeze.

Tristan Wolfe: Listen, ah'm not saying we need to best buds or anythin'. But we do share a common enemy in the Militia, as does most of the HWA. But we're different from all of them. We have the power to do somethin' about it.

That's why Neil chose us. Now, begrudgingly, ah got yer back. 'Tis up to ye if ye've got mine.

Breeze: I raised your hand didn't I?

Normally a comment like Tristans' foremost would have irritated Breeze at least slightly yet it did not this time. Breeze knew Tristan Wolfe's persona well without actually knowing the man, it was common place

Tristan Wolfe: Aye lad, ye did. But that dun't mean shyt in this business. Ah've seen people raise others hands, only so that they can position their knife deeper into their "friends" back. For us to be a cohessive unit, there needs to be trust. Can ah trust ye James Breeze?

Breeze: I'll put it this way, If I were you I wouldn't trust me

Tristan Wolfe: Good, then at least we're on the same page. That's a start

Breeze: I suppose I should apologize for beating Syren to a pulp last month and then crushing her with a Lightening Strikes

Breeze stared down at his glass before looking back up

Breeze: And of course for taking your tag titles off you

Tristan's eyes narrowed for Breeze seemed to have struck a nerve with the mention of Syren and the Tag Team Title loss.

Tristan Wolfe: Syren's a big girl, she can handle herself. If ye truly want to apologize for yer actions, which ah doubt ye do, then apologize to her. As for the Tag Team Titles, 'tis in the past. Ye needn't apologize for bein' the better team on that given night. But as ah'm sure ye saw, Sy and ah got them back again. And though the likes of Conner and Tarmen bested us for the titles, Sy and ah will continue to achieve our goal. We will, one day, be the Tag Team Champions again.

Breeze: Ha, you got them back? You got them back? No my friend. Syren got them back. And not against me. Against my partner. If she were to go against me the outcome would have been very different. As for one day becoming tag champions again then go for it. I'm sure they really are the goal of someone like you and Syren. Be sure I won't be trying to stop you from gaining them again

Tristan Wolfe: Yer right Breeze, she did get them back. Ah'm not goin' to deny that Syren's better then me because, quite frankly, everyone already knows the truth. She was born for this business, me... ah was just someone who was picked up off the street. But ah still work my ass off to be the best that ah can be. And, yeah, yer right... ye won't stand in the way of Sy and I becomin' the Tag Team Champions. No one will!

Breeze: You chase overrated titles till your heart rate fails and you no longer draw breath. It makes no odds to me. I'll let you take those titles because I have no interest in them. Winning them three times is enough for me. Quite frankly I'm beyond them now. They are little worth as is your latter comment of 'No one will!' If what you say is true and your not as good as Syren then what chance have you got of taking those titles if I want them? Syren has no chance herself, so yours is infinitely negative

Breeze sips at his whiskey again, his eyes alert and more importantly his body. Just in case. Both men had a temper on them, and the tension could be cut with a knife as could their emotions

Tristan Wolfe: What makes ye think yer so fuckin' special!? Ye think whatever the hell ye want, but yer not better than me and yer certainly not better than Syren. Fact of the matter is this Breeze, yer ego is above and beyond what yer even capable of. And if yer not careful, someone's going to bring ye crashing down to Earth in a big way. So dun't push yer luck Breeze.

Breeze knew when it was time to leave

Breeze: Okay Tristan, I’ve really got to dash now, later

Tristans face was red with anger as Breeze pushed past him to leave the room

Tristan slammed the door behind him

Breeze laughed to himself before leaving. He had got what he had come here for…

Breeze walked across the hall and into the interview room

Kristin Thomas: Yes?

Breeze: Can I shoot a quick broadcast?

Kristin Thomas: Sure

Breeze: Thanks

Moments later Breeze was ready

Kristin: This week you against Dylan Wolfe for the X-Treme Title, have you anything you would like to say to him?

Breeze: Only this, Dylan. I beat you last week. True Tristan interfered, this week the match will be fair. I will win fair and that X-Treme Title will be mine. The Militia itself will be short lived. I’m going now. Why am I not rambling on? Because I don’t need to. My actions will dictate my words

Breeze left the room