
BOLTS AND BOOTS
“I’m sorry, man. I should’ve been there.”
Backstage in the good ol’, standard non-descript locker room, the Event Horizon gazes mournfully onto his would-be mentor as the Risen Star laces up his boots.
Nova looks up and shakes his head.
Nova: Been there for what, Hayes? It was what it was.
He grins as he searches for a cigarette.
Nova: You’re not my security guard.
Nova looks back at PRIME’s Co-Head of Security, Wade Elliott, who releases an amused snort before tossing the Risen Star a silver Zippo with a good-natured smirk.
Wade Elliott: Don’t push yer luck.
Hanlon runs a hand through his hair before lifting his head, frustrated.
Hayes Hanlon: C’mon, man…doesn’t it piss you off? You had Impulse dead to rights. Bathory, or whoever the hell, took that from you, dude!
Nova lights his cigarette and takes a step forward, placing a hand on Hanlon’s shoulder.
Nova: Hayes…calm down.
Hayes Hanlon: It’s bullshit, dude. Knox didn’t deserve to take that one over you.
Wade Elliott: Better get used to it, kid. Yer gonna get screwed out’ve more’n a few if you stick ‘round long enough.
Nova points a thumb at the “Bama Bruiser.
Nova: Wise words. And what’s going on with you and Impulse, anyway?
Hayes rolls his eyes.
Hayes Hanlon: I dunno, man. The dude just rubs me the wrong way.
Nova: (taking a drag) Listen, some beefs have to work themselves out, and I’m not here to referee whatever the fuck is going on between you two. You’ll sort it out. But there may come a time…
The Risen Star trails off and looks away from Hanlon. After a moment it’s clearly awkward.
Hanlon looks to Elliott.
Then back to Nova.
Then back to Elliott.
Then back to Nova.
Then back to Elliott.
Hayes Hanlon: What…what’s he doing?
Elliott holds out his arms without an answer.
Wade Elliott: I got nothin’ for ya. He’s been doin’ this lately, just give ‘im a sec.
Suddenly Nova breaks his trance, shakes his head, and takes another drag. He looks back to the Event Horizon.
Nova: …may come a time when I need you to re-prioritize your shit, okay?
Hayes scans Nova’s eyes, quizzically.
Hayes Hanlon: You okay, man? Take something without sharing?
Nova snuffs his cigarette butt against the bottom of his boot and sets it on the bench next to where he’s seated.
Nova: I’m good, man. Now you go out there and get one.
The Risen Star grins and playfully shoves Hanlon’s shoulder.
Nova: Keep the momentum.
Hayes grins and stands up, stretching out.
Hayes Hanlon: I’ll do my damn-dest.
He turns to walk out of the room and then looks back, and gestures to Nova and his attire.
Hayes Hanlon: By the way, you’re…ah…not scheduled to work tonight.
Nova: Correct.
Wade Elliott also nods in affirmation.
Hayes Hanlon: But…you have all your gear on.
Nova: Bolts and boots.
Hayes Hanlon: So you just…wanna…wear it all?
Wade Elliott: Man’s got a code.
Nova jerks a thumb back towards the ‘Bama Bruiser.
Nova: Those who know it feel it.
Hanlon pauses for a moment before nodding slowly and turning back to the exit.
Nova: Go get you one, Hayes.
They can’t see it, but the Event Horizon grins as he exits the room.