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There was no denying how bubbly El Generico was. He was always bouncing around backstage, "to keep myself psyched up for a match" was what he would say whenever Kevin would ask him to sit down. The kid was always smiling, always friendly and he seemed to never have anything bad to say about anybody. He was so nice at times that it was damn near cavity-inducing.
But as with any person, El Generico had a side of himself that was as brutal as it was beautiful to look at. Being in Ring of Honor as they were, they weren't strangers to violence, to blood and bruises and broken bones. To say that the masked man has never been involved in such situations would be a silly thought. Still, there was always something so captivating about seeing the luchador in such chaos.
Like a ray of sunlight in complete darkness. Because El Generico was comparable to the sun itself. He was bright, warm and always had a kind of cheerful glow to him. The way he carried himself exuded an air of confidence that Kevin only hoped to achieve. Unfortunately, Kevin could only project his confidence for so long until he has to shut himself away from others again.
Because people could not be trusted, people are manipulative and selfish no matter what they say. So Kevin sets up walls and shuts others out of his life. It came as a shock for him, however, when Generico had easily gotten past Kevin's coldness, how quickly he'd made Kevin trust him when everyone else failed to do so. Slowly but surely, Generico had gone past all of Kevin's defenses, no matter how hard Kevin tried to shut him out.
He quickly realized that it was impossible.
Because as much as Kevin tries to convince himself that he doesn't need anybody but himself, he's learned that he needed someone there to support him and show him the kindness and purity that he thought was absent in the world.
Unfortunately, like with every season, it all had to pass.
He was getting too attached far too quickly than he'd wanted. Generico had grown to be more than just a friend and ring partner to him. It wasn't long until Kevin started wanting something more than what they had and what Generico was giving him. It had confused him, kept him up until the ungodly hours of the morning in shared hotel rooms whilst the object of his affection was sleeping in the next bed. Sometimes right beside him, even.
As a result of his confusion he started pushing Generico away, thinking that it would give him a little more time to think of what to make of his emotions. But as is typical for him, Generico never stayed away for too long, too worried about his friend and all too willing to come close to Kevin whenever he asks what was wrong. This had continued on for months, maybe years. Kevin doesn't really remember, doesn't want to keep track of the times when Generico had given him the emotional support and genuine concern that Kevin would later realize that he needed more than anything.
It eventually caused a rift between them. If Generico noticed, Kevin wasn't sure since the luchador never faltered in his care for his best friend. He'd learned to give Kevin space whenever Kevin got too pissed off, which Kevin hated at the time for seemingly no particular reason until he thought about it. Until he made the first of his many realizations.
He wanted El Generico all to himself.
And it had scared Kevin, unnerved him that he had become so attached to the warmth and joy Generico embodied that he would grow to be so possessive. This resulted to Kevin pushing him away almost all the time under the assumption that if he deprived himself of that warmth that he's grown addicted to, he would crave it less and less until eventually the obsession would be gone.
It didn't work, what with Generico coming back each and every time, bubblier and more cheery than before.
Kevin felt it torturous; To want and crave something, someone, so badly but as a result led to darker trains of thought. To be forced to deny himself of something he's ever dreamed of as to stop himself from becoming too attached. Truly, it was his own personal hell.
He'd felt so much anger and confusion that he'd resorted to an idea, an idea that he would later regret acting upon.
For the madness to end, he had to destroy someone so irresistibly pure and tantalizing.
So he did. Every chance Kevin got, he destroys that light one way or another, only for it to unfortunately light up once more. Only, to his surprise and fascination, with each return Generico became more like fire rather than light. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes. So passionate and dangerous, perhaps much more than he ever was, and Kevin immediately wanted to fan the flames, to see the full extent of this new side of the luchador.
Their feud became legendary amongst the independent circuit but as far as Kevin was concerned, Generico was all that mattered. How with each time he got back up after a beating, he grew stronger and better than ever before, and Kevin reveled in it, found his new fixation in the masked wrestler's escalating intensity. After every bout, every punch, kick, or bite, the fire only seemed to burn hotter, so much so that Kevin could swear he'd burn himself if he so much as touches him. The fire was his addiction, and Kevin needed his daily fix of it. He couldn't get enough. What started as a plan to save himself from his obsessive feelings only led to a bigger fixation, bordering on unhealthy.
He didn't care about Generico's well-being nor his own. With every drop of blood, with every bruise and cut on that freckled pale skin, Generico's fire grew more intense and Kevin wanted it. He needed it like he needed to breathe. He'd become so engrossed that he followed the poor little thing to every promotion, impulsed to chase that light, that fire anywhere it goes, to the ends of the Earth if it came to that. It didn't matter, he needed that heat to melt and keep away the frigid cold he'd gotten used to.
One day, the fire died out.
One day, Kevin walked into the arena and heard from the other guys in the locker room that Generico had retired and went home to Tijuana. Kevin felt his entire world crumble to the ground and for the first time in many years since meeting Generico, could feel the coldness in his heart.
He was gone, never to return to give Kevin the warmth and affection he'd become addicted to. Kevin had slumped down in his seat, slack-jawed and wide-eyed from the revelation dropped onto him like a bomb. What was he supposed to do now? For the longest time, Generico had been Kevin's motivation, whether they were the best of friends or the bitterest of rivals. For so long, Kevin had depended on him for a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
Without him, what was he going to do now?
NXT had been a turning point for him, gave him a chance to start a new life under a new name in a new company. There'd been the occasional hateful glares from the people backstage but it was to be expected with the kind of reputation he has. He'd learned to set his walls up once more, this time to prevent himself from growing too attached to anybody the way he did Generico.
But of course, that plan changed.
He'd heard of this underdog Sami Zayn, seen some of his matches and heard his name passed around on Kevin's first day at the Performance Center. He'd grown intrigued about this apparent hotshot, and wanted to meet him in person. He wanted to see if this guy was as great as everyone makes him out to be.
Turns out he was all that, and more.
Sami was bright, cheerful and bubbly, sometimes goofy if an opportunity presents itself. It was an all-too familiar presence, one that Kevin refused to believe.
It couldn't be. Sami couldn't be...could he? But that's impossible. Sami shouldn't have his light, his warmth, his passion, his fire. There were so many things that Sami shouldn't have but does, and it scared Kevin. This couldn't happen, shouldn't happen. It just can't. He won't let it, not again. He should've stepped back, thought about it before acting on his emotions, but in his mind it was a matter of utmost urgency. He needed to see if it was possible, if he and Sami were one and the same and if they weren't...
Then Kevin needed to teach him a lesson, that Sami had no right to replicate what he had. That he had no right to try and replace him.
He found himself falling down that dangerous rabbit hole once more, falling into a painfully familiar routine with every punch thrown and received, every bruise and cut dealt and every bone broken.
It angered Kevin even more to see Sami utilize moves that he had once used, every match was like a forced trip down memory lane, so much that Kevin could actually picture that mask that symbolized obsession and passion on Sami's face. And he'd hate himself for even envisioning such a thought.
He tried walking away, oh did Kevin try, but as if by some cruel joke it seemed that fate kept him stuck with Sami, with the imposter. He tried forgetting but something in him prevented him from blocking Sami out. Perhaps it was that infuriatingly familiar warmth that he's craved for so long, that he'd lost ever since he retired.
Kevin has no idea how long this summer would last, for all he knows it could last forever. If he's being honest, he doesn't think he wants it to end.