It’s mid-afternoon, the day after Helloween Harvest has aired. You’d stayed overnight in Boston, catching the early morning flight out across country, landing shortly after midday. By the time you’d cleared security and grabbed your bags and picked up your car, you’d at least managed to miss the rush hour traffic both to and from work.
Not that this truly made much of a difference in LA when going anywhere, let alone near the airport…
Anyway, you’d may your way across town and now you were finally home.
Waiting for you, radiant as ever, sitting cross legged on top of the stone wall lining one side of the paving is your wife, Vanessa.
Getting your McLaren into neutral and pulling the handbrake, you’re quick to cut the engine and swing the door open, leaving your duffel bag in the next seat alone for now.
Vanessa hops off the wall, smoothing out the sundress she’s wearing and smiles at you as she walks towards.
(Vanessa): Welcome home honey!
She’s leaning in for a kiss, you oblige.
(Vanessa): How was the drive?
She’s seeing the eyeroll and hearing the low gust of air escaping from your pursed lips. She’s smiling again, knowing full well what you’re not saying.
(Vanessa): That fun, yeah?
(Hans): Jah…
You’re both giggling now, she’s leaning in for another kiss.
You’re not talking about what happened the night before at the Harvest, that had been done already. You’d kept a lot to yourself, she’d been none the wiser that you’d visited Erica’s mother earlier that week. You didn’t like keeping secrets from her, but, well, you wanted this sorted and it wouldn’t have made what you’d needed to do any easier.
Not that I could have kept it clean of course, but…
(Vanessa): You’re not going back to the Academy today are you?
You’re back to the present now.
Academy? Ah… in that traffic?
(Hans): Nein mein schatz, I’m here for the rest of today, tomorrow.
A happy noise comes from Vanessa, as she pulls you away from the car. You’ve got just as much time to lock it before you’re in doors now.
Guess I’ll get that bag later then.
Time passes.
It’s later on in the afternoon, sun still firmly overhead.
You pad outside, eyes squinting as they adjust to the blazing sunshine even through the protective tint of your aviators.
Left hand coming up, palm out, it shields your eyes, though after a few moments it’s falling back at your side as you make your way towards the pool.
Crossing the paved route in good time, you set down your bottle of water underneath the lounger, out of the sun’s rays. Next, you place your wireless earbud pod down and extract the two earpieces, slotting them in with practiced ease even as you’re setting yourself down gently onto the lounger.
Stretching out, you wait for the earbuds to connect to your phone, holding off from immediately playing what promos and reviews had come in since you last checked up on the site. You’re staring out at the garden, the pool water calm, barely any wind in the air to stir it into motion.
There’s times like this when your wife would look over to you, wonder aloud at what you’re thinking of… and, well, it’s nothing really. You’re just at peace, taking in what’s before you and yet at the same time, oblivious to it.
This is one of these moments.
You don’t savour it, as you’re barely aware of it happening at the time, but, you would if you were.
A few minutes pass, until some unknown thought stirs you from your reverie. You stretch out again, releasing tension in your muscles and stifling a yawn as you do so.
Picking your phone up, you swipe it open, navigating with practiced ease to the HWA official app, bringing up the recent media interviews and reviews. You settle back in, eyes shutting behind the aviators as you begin to listen as they play through in order.
Time passes.
20 minutes? 40? Longer?
You’re paying attention and yet otherwise not, the jetlag setting in somewhat by now.
Either which way, your ears perk up and your attention is focused at the sound of two familiar voices, Maniac and then, as his promo ends, Draconis.
You sit up as the latter comes to an end, bringing your phone up as you reach under the lounger for your bottle of water.
Swiping back to listen to what Maniac has to say, you crack open the bottle, setting the lid down to one side and taking a long gulp of the cool liquid.
As the promo ends a second time, you find yourself shaking your head from side to side, even as you’re getting to your feet, walking back towards the house.
You’re muttering to yourself going over what has been said, as you make your way towards what will be your study. On the way, you pass by the kitchen, taking the time to drain the bottle of water, dropping it into the recycling bin.
Pulling open the fridge, you grab a bottle of hefeweizen, pouring it into a glass. Taking a quick sip from it, you then carry the glass in the other hand with you.
Back on your way, you head towards the study.
Despite the majority of the rooms in the home being finished now, a task that Vanessa has taken to with gusto now that she’s no longer working for HWA, this one is still fairly bare.
For what you need it for though? It’s ideal.
You hold up your phone, tapping the camera icon and then once more to have it facing you.
A quick breath in and then out.
You tap the record button.
Begin.
(Hans): Guten tag Herr Chaos, I see that you are still with us in body… certainly not in mind…
A brief momentary pause, mulling over what to say next.
(Hans): You wonder why I’m talking about you Herr Chaos?
Cause and effect, nein?
Ordung, let me spell it out for you.
You talk about me, you reference my balls, constantly I might add, you bring up how you’re going to make me ‘pay’ and that you have your mädchen’s back… you bring up, nein, you revel in making references to the holocaust…
So jah, you’re ‘under my skin’ in as much as you’re the wrestling equivalent of a chihuahua unt I’m sick to the back teeth of hearing your voice pipe up time and time again.
You think I’m hiding? Herr Chaos, you’re the one skulking around the backstage and throwing the cheap shots. I can still taste the burnt rubber from when you turned tail and fled the last time you dared to show your face while I was in the ring. The time before that in Utah. You were all ‘jah, I’ll see you in Utah Hans’...
You scoff, choking back laughter.
(Hans): Jah, I saw thin air… Ich tat es nicht see any lank hair or greasy face paint, ich tat es nicht hear the whiny sounds of your voice or smell the desperation you reek off. So nein, don’t give me that talk Herr Chaos.
You say I’m all bark and no bite? Hah, when you first challenged me, I wasn’t on the roster. But then, I signed unt lo unt behold, I face you. First match back even. You want another match Herr Chaos? Sei mein gast. Pick up the phone to Butch, you have his number, ask him for one. You’ll be waiting your turn, which I know makes you so very angry. But mein freund, we’ve been over this, jah? You may be a two time former world champion, but those days are long past. What kind of a man are you Herr Chaos? From where I see it, manufactured outrage is all you have, for it certainly isn’t mental competence.
You tap yourself on the chest and then wag a finger at the camera.
(Hans): Who wears the pant’s in my relationship? Never you mind that Herr Chaos, your personalities have enough to worry about as it is, if I was to give you the answer, it might push out something important, like how to breath.
Before you go back into your box Herr Chaos, phone Butch, take a ticket, wait your turn like a guter kleiner hund, I’ll deal with you in time.
You smile ferally at the camera, tapping the button to cease the recording.
Phone dropping to your side, your free hand reaches across to where the glass of hefeweizen is and picks it up.
Humming to yourself, you start to drift across the floor, idly uploading the promo to the HWA app as you then take a sip of your drink, catching sight of your wife standing in the door frame.
(Vanessa): Maniac again?
(Hans): Jah, he just doesn’t learn.
(Vanessa): Some things never change honey.
You make a noise at the back of your throat in agreement with her as you raise the glass to your lips.
Vanessa gestures over her shoulder and back down the hallway towards the kitchen.
(Vanessa): Are we eating in or going out for dinner?
A quick glance behind you at your car sat in the drive way, then back towards your wife.
(Hans): Eating in would be nice. That ok?
She flashes an easy smile at you, moving backwards as she does so.
(Vanessa): Of course, hoped you’d say that. Let’s go see what there is then.
You take another sip of your beer as you make to follow her.
Fade out.
Message Thread
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