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.