Ben Jackman sits in his lockerroom directly following his Oblivion victory over Kyle Darkbriar. Jackman pulls his cell phone from his gym bag, and scrolls slowly through his saved numbers until he finds the one he's looking for. Jackman presses the call button firmly, and pulls the phone to his ear. "Fuckin' bitch", Jackman mumbles under his breath as the phone rings softly in his ear. After several rings, Stephanie's voice mail picks up. "Hi, I can't come to the phone right now, if you'll leave your name and number I'll get back to you as soon as I can...." Her voice on the recording lowers to a venomous growl. "And if this is Ben...Go fuck yourself..Thanks." The record tone rings, Ben clears his throat and begins to speak. "Alright bitch. Cut the shit. I want to know how the FUCK our personal business became that cocksucker Darkbriar's business. And for that matter how the FUCK the entire SHOOT Project lockerroom seems to know about it. Eryk Fucking Masters for fuck's sake. Yeah, I've got his number, you fucking cunt, I'm sure you'd probably enjoy picking up another client you filthy whore." Jackman pauses for a moment, trying almost in vain to regain his composure. "I'm leaving for Mexico right now so you've got the better part of a week to come up with a good fucking reason for making our business public. And realistically, this isn't even about any image I may portray, or any relationship we may have had. This is about my son. This is about my fucking blood, that you're trying to keep from me. I will see my son again, I don't care what or who I have to go through to do it. Just thought I'd let you know." Jackman pauses again drawing in his breath. "Fuck you very much, Stephanie." Jackman hangs up the phone and shoves it into his hip pocket as he gathers up his gear and walks purposefully out of the arena.