Chapter Text
Tyler showers and gets dressed, excited to have been invited out with Jimmy Jacobs. He knew he was a bit of a nerd and was surprised and pleased when Jacobs asked if he wanted to accompany him and some of the guys to a bar after their show.
Tyler tries to turn down the first round of shots, but his protests are ignored. He downs the tequila, flipping the empty shot glass upside down on the table in front of him as he saw the others do. His throat burns and eyes water as he takes a big gulp of his beer. Jacobs laughs and nudges their shoulders together as he calls for another round of shots for the table. More quickly than Tyler realizes, he is quite buzzed.
Suddenly, Jacobs jumps up from the table, knocking his chair over in his haste. “MOX!” he screams out joyously and drunkenly. Tyler looks over to see Jon Moxley strutting to their table. Tyler had heard of him, of course, and seen tapes. He was impressed with Mox’s charisma with the audience and thought his unorthodox style was interesting. Mox exuded an aura of aggression and unhinged violence in his promos. Now, he is smiling and embracing Jacobs, who presses a shot into his hand.
Mox takes it like it was water, Tyler notices with a touch of envy.
“Mox, this is Tyler Black,” Jacobs says by way of introduction as Mox spins a chair around from the table next to theirs and straddles it.
“No shit! Good to meet you, man. Seen your stuff in PWG. You’re good,” Mox says, grinning at him with eyes peeking out from his mop of curly blondish hair.
Tyler sits dumbstruck for a moment. Mox knows who HE is? Really? “Umm…thanks,” he replies belatedly.
They start to converse, talking about matches and opponents and promoters, who’s good, who’s a piece of shit. Mox has strong opinions about who’s a piece of shit, Tyler finds. More beers, more shots. At some point later, Tyler realizes that everyone else has left the table. Just he and Mox are left. Jacobs, he sees as he looks over Mox’s shoulder, has some particularly slutty-looking girl pressed up against the wall across from them. Mox turns around to see what Tyler’s looking at and chuckles.
“Well, Jacobs’ll be good for the night,” he laughs.
Tyler finishes his beer, but only has a few seconds to feel accomplished before Mox downs the half-glass he had left and motions for two more to be brought to them. Tyler feels a little deflated. How many has he had now? Six? Eight? And how many shots were there? He’s not completely sure he can walk right now. Mox, on the other hand, looks barely buzzed. That little sprig of envy shows up again.
Jacobs interrupts, rumpled and with second-hand lipstick all over his mouth.
“Hey, so, uh, Tyler, you’re good to get a cab to the hotel, right? Cause…” he gestures over to where the girl is waiting for him.
“I got ‘im,” Mox says.
Jacobs looks down at Mox and quietly says, “I don’t know that Tyler’s into your level of fun, Mox.”
Anger shoots through Tyler at the words. “Hey, M’right here, ya know? M’not a child. I can hang.”
“See, Jacobs, Tyler wants to stay with me,” Mox retorts, slinging an arm over Tyler’s shoulder.
Tyler grins stupidly at them both, feeling awesome at Mox’s acceptance.
Jacobs rolls his eyes. “Sure, fine, whatever. Just don’t get arrested or anything.” He tells Mox where their hotel room is so he can get Tyler back to it and then disappears out the door with the girl.
“What do ya wanna do now, Tyler?” Mox asks. Tyler likes the way Mox says his name.
“Dunno,” he replies, still grinning, “Whatever you usually do?”
Mox smiles and says, “Great, let’s go find trouble.”