The scene fades back in the bowels of the CHI Health Center two hours after the conclusion to Havoc. (Hans): Want me to run interference for you mein schatz? (Vanessa): Only if you want to torture yourself my love. (Hans): For you. He leans in and kisses her. (Hans): Just don’t be too long. (Vanessa): I won’t. I just need to grab Jason to firm up the media day we’re doing tomorrow. After what’s happened tonight… She shrugs lightly. (Vanessa): We knew HWA returning would be eventful… Hans draws her in close, arm round her waist. (Hans): Jah, it’s a little more than that just now though. (Vanessa): And you getting in the mix too now… I should have known there was more to it than just idle talk. (Hans): Are you… are you ok with this? (Vanessa): Of course. She smiles up at him. (Vanessa): Always knew there was a chance you’d do this. And if I’m back commentating and doing what I love, how could I deny you the same? (Hans): Ich liebe dich mein schatz. (Vanessa): I love you too honey. She pats him on the backside as he steps towards the door. (Vanessa): Be nice to them. (Hans): Always… Rolling her eyes, Vanessa turns and walks towards her co-commentator Jason Thatcher, back down the corridor they’ve just walked down. (Hans): Danke schön. He gestured at one of the reporters. (Hans): I don’t have long and it’s media day tomorrow, so if you want to walk with me, I’ll answer some of your questions. Acceptable, jah? Not waiting to give them a chance to answer, Hans begins to walk once more. (Reporter 1): Hans. Do you have any news to share on Wisdom Parker’s arrest? (Hans): I can’t add to what you already know. What you know right now is what I know. (Reporter 1): Any comments on the situation? (Hans): Nein, ich weiß nicht. Media day is tomorrow, HWA will know more and be in a position to address things appropriately then. He holds his hands up to stall any further line of questioning on this front. (Hans): Again, I know what you know. Any speculation on my part right now is irresponsible. Low murmurs follow this statement before another reporter pipes up. (Reporter 2): Hans, welcome back to the active roster. The fans are all keen to know who you will be facing in your first match back? Surely you’ll be facing someone at the next show? Can you tell us anything? (Hans): I’m back on the roster, not signed up to be co-owner. Mein freund Butch is who you need to ask. (Reporter 3): Speaking of Butch there Hans, will you be calling in any favours from management? The titles aren’t in contention yet, but surely you must be thinking you could put in a word when the time comes? Hans throws a withering glare at the reporter, stopping in his tracks momentarily. The reporter involuntarily takes a step back. (Hans): Nein. For a second he considers adding more, but settles for brushing past and continuing on his way. Another reporter takes their chance. (Reporter 4): Will you continue with what you’re doing at the Academy Hans, or will that take a back seat? (Hans): There are no immediate plans for me to stop what I’m doing at the HWA Academy. I enjoy it and it’s the perfect set up for me to not only help myself improve but the others there as well. He purses his lips, thoughts rushing to the fore of his mind. (Hans): But I miss my place back in New York and I don’t want to continually hop about trying to find somewhere that doesn’t have paparazzi swarming about trying to find a Kardashian or whoever, so who knows what changes in the coming months, jah? (Reporter 4): What will it be like to step into a ring with Red Dragon after all these years? (Hans): Cathartic, for both of us I’m sure. Emotional… hopefully inspiring to the new generation and the fans… a fitting send off to a wonderful man. Trailing off, he rounds the corner of corridor, the exit doors leading to the car park reserved for the HWA personnel.. (Reporter 1): Hans, you’ve had words with Maniac these past few weeks now, he’s called for a match, what chances of that happening soon? (Hans): Again, that’s for management to decide on. Maybe they book it, maybe they don’t. Maniac’s challenged half the roster at this point to a fight so unless they want to have a handicap match, it’ll take some time to get through them all anyway. A sly smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth, the image in his head clearly appealing. (Hans): Maybe that’s something for Butch to think on though, jah? Chuckling, he catches sight of something behind the throng of reporters. (Reporter 2): Vanessa! Any words for us to describe what happened tonight? (Reporter 4): Vanessa, how do you feel about your husband being a full time competitor once more? (Reporter 1): Vanessa, what do you have to say about Wisdom Parker’s arrest? (Vanessa): No comments tonight boys, Jason and I have plenty of time for you tomorrow as you well know with the press meet. My husband and I have taken up your time as it is tonight. She swoops past them and round to the passenger side door, Hans being the gentlemen and holding the door open for her as she steps in, holding her handbag for her momentarily as she gets settled, before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side door, sliding into the leather interior with practiced ease and gently closing the door behind him.
Into view strides Hans von Richtoven, still attired as he was from the event earlier that evening, his wife Vanessa von Richtoven by his side, radiant as always. They pause a few steps away from from a non descript door, turning to face one another.
Hans opens the door, striding out into a media scrum, the glare of camera flashes and noise from the questions is at complete odds with the relative tranquility of the corridor he was just in.
For the next several moments, it’s pandemonium.
Holding up his hands, things slowly calm down at his appeal for peace, the sound dying away to a low murmur from the background noise of the arena around them.
Reacting with some confusion, but still keen to hear his words, the reporters follow suit in short order.
Microphones are thrust in his face as he walks towards the exit towards his car.
Two guards at the door swing them open as Hans and the reporters reach it and move beyond into the still air of the night.
By this point, he’s reached his McLaren, thumbing the lock off with his key fob.
He turns to face back towards the arena.
The camera swings around, catching sight of Vanessa von Richtoven striding towards them. Losing interest in Hans, the reporters move towards her, their voices over lapping.
As the engine purrs to life, still being lit up by the camera flashes, he gives a brief wave before letting the hand brake off and driving off as the scene fades slowly to black, the reporters making their way back to the exit to snare the next HWA superstar to emerge.
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