Stu-E Price stepped into the shower, the scalding water hissing as it splashed against his skin, washing away the remnants of the night's battles. The steam enveloped him in a sensuous embrace, softening the hard edges of his muscles, which still bore the tension of the matches. The crimson rivulets of blood swirled around his feet, a stark contrast to the pristine white of the porcelain.

With each pass of his hands over his body, he felt the grit and grime of the arena give way to the smoothness of his skin. His fingers traced the lines of his scars, now glistening with moisture, the raised bumps of damaged skin seeming to come alive under the cascade of water. The hot streams pounded against his shoulders, the steady rhythm a soothing counterpoint to the adrenaline that still coursed through his veins.

He tilted his head back, letting the water run through his dark hair, washing away the sweat and blood, purging the evidence of the violence. The water traced a path down his face, following the contours of his strong jaw, slipping over his lips, now swollen from the night's blows. He opened his mouth slightly, tasting the warmth, feeling it cleanse him inside and out.

As he scrubbed his chest, his touch became more deliberate, more thoughtful, each stroke a reminder of his triumph. The soap lathered into a rich foam, the scent mingling with the steam, creating a heady, intoxicating atmosphere. He breathed it in deeply, feeling it seep into his very pores, invigorating him, renewing him.

Price lingered under the water, savouring the sensation, the heat, the release. The shower was a sanctuary, a moment of peace in the aftermath of chaos. Here, alone, he allowed himself to feel the full weight of his victory, to absorb the reality of his new title, the new HWA Champion. The water washed away the blood, the pain, but not the pride that now shone brightly in his eyes.

As he reached down to where moments ago he had the title belt around his wait, something hit him. As the last traces of blood were washing away, Stu-E felt an unexpected tremor ripple through his body. The water, once a soothing balm, now seemed to magnify the flood of emotions rising within him. He leaned against the cool tile of the shower wall, the steam curling around him like a ghostly embrace, and closed his eyes, allowing himself to be enveloped in the moment.

His breaths came quicker, hitching slightly, as the magnitude of his achievement began to settle in. Each drop of water that cascaded down his face felt like a tear in its own right, merging with the ones that began to form in his eyes. The warmth of the shower was no longer enough to stave off the chill of raw emotion that now gripped him.

He slid down to sit on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, the relentless stream of water continuing its relentless, almost purifying assault. The sobs started as silent shudders, his shoulders shaking as he fought to keep them at bay. But the enormity of it all—the pain, the struggle, the sheer will it had taken to emerge victorious—was too much to contain.

The first tear broke free, mingling with the water on his cheek, followed by another, and then another, until he was openly weeping, the sound of his cries lost in the roar of the shower. Each sob was a release, a letting go of the fierce control he'd maintained throughout the tournament. His body shook with the force of his emotions, every muscle taut, every nerve alive with the intensity of his feelings.

The hot water washed over him, mixing with his tears, creating a torrent that seemed to cleanse not just his body, but his soul. He cried for the battles he'd fought, for the sacrifices he'd made, for the weight of the title that now rested on his shoulders. But most of all, he cried for the sheer, overwhelming joy of having achieved his dream.

Stu-E Price stayed there for what felt like an eternity, allowing himself to feel every ounce of his triumph and the cathartic release that followed. When the tears finally subsided, he was left feeling lighter, freer, his spirit cleansed alongside his body. He took a deep breath, the air thick with steam, and stood up, the champion reborn, ready to face whatever came next with a heart unburdened and a mind clear.

With a deep breath, he turned off the water, the abrupt silence echoing the calm that now settled over him. The steam clung to his skin as he stepped out of the shower, each movement deliberate, almost reverent, as if emerging from a baptism of sorts.

He reached for a towel, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the hard, unyielding edges of the night. Wrapping it around his waist, he took another towel and began to dry his hair, the motion both soothing and methodical. The towel soaked up the water, growing heavier with each pass, until his hair was merely damp, and he felt the cool air of the room brush against his scalp.

Stu-E then moved the towel over his face, blotting away the moisture, lingering a moment as if to wipe away the last traces of his emotional release. His reflection in the foggy mirror stared back at him, eyes clearer now, the weight of the world seeming a little lighter. He took the towel and rubbed it across his broad shoulders, down his arms, over the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, each stroke a reaffirmation of his strength, his resilience.

As he dried his legs, he could feel the tension begin to ease, the soothing ritual grounding him. He took his time, methodically working his way down to his feet, ensuring every inch of his body was dry, the tactile sensation a reminder of his physical presence, his victory.

Finally, he stood straight, dropping the towel into the laundry basket. He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and let out a long, steady breath. The bathroom was still filled with steam, the air thick and warm, but within that mist, he felt a sense of clarity, a renewal.

Price stepped out of the bathroom, his body clean, his spirit refreshed, ready to face the world anew. A wave of cool air meeting the lingering warmth of the steam, he walked into the hotel suite, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows across the space. The scent of clean linen and the faint trace of his cologne filled the air.

In the corner of the room, Laney sat comfortably on the couch, absorbed in her iPad. The light from the screen illuminated her face, her expression one of focused concentration. Draped across her legs was the HWA Championship title, its gleaming gold and intricate design a striking contrast against the simple fabric of her pyjamas.

Stu-E paused for a moment, taking in the sight. The championship belt, a symbol of his hard-fought victory, resting casually on Laney’s lap, filled him with a profound sense of accomplishment and tenderness. He crossed the room, each step bringing him closer to the two things that mattered most to him.

Laney looked up as he approached, a smile spreading across her face. She set the iPad aside and carefully lifted the championship belt, holding it out to him with a look of pride and affection.

"Hey, champ," she said softly, her eyes shining with admiration.

Stu-E smiled, his heart swelling. He took the belt from her, feeling its weight in his hands, a tangible reminder of the night's events. He set it gently on the table beside the couch and then sat down next to Laney, pulling her into a tender embrace. The warmth of her body against his own was a comfort, a grounding presence that made everything else fade away.

"We did it, darling," he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion.

Laney hugged him tighter, her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed against his. "Together, Daddy" she replied, her voice equally soft, full of love.

They sat there for a while, holding each other, the championship belt gleaming beside them, a silent testament to Stu-E's triumph. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the simplicity of their connection, he felt truly at peace.

He pulled back slightly, looking into Laney’s eyes. The love and support he saw there made his heart swell even more. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and smiled warmly.

"You know," he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity, "tonight, you can have anything you want. Name it, and it's yours."

Laney’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and curiosity. She tilted her head, pretending to think hard for a moment. “Anything?” she asked, her voice tinged with a playful challenge.

“Anything,” Stu-E confirmed, his own smile widening.

Laney’s thoughtful expression shifted to one of delight. “I want ice cream and a movie night! And can we build a fort with the couch cushions?”

Stu-E chuckled, feeling a rush of warmth and affection. “Ice cream, a movie, and a fort. You got it!”

Laney squealed with joy and hopped off the couch, already gathering the cushions. Stu-E headed to the mini-fridge and pulled out a small tub of their favourite ice cream, mint choc chip. He grabbed two spoons and returned to find Laney had transformed the living room into a cozy fort, complete with blankets and pillows.

“Look at this masterpiece!” he said, genuinely impressed by her creativity.

Laney beamed with pride. “Come on, Daddy! Let’s get inside!”

They crawled into the fort, the flickering light from the TV casting a soft glow around them. Laney nestled in beside him, her small frame fitting perfectly against his side. He handed her a spoon, and they both dug into the ice cream, savouring the sweet, creamy treat.

“What movie should we watch?” Laney asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

Stu-E handed her the remote. “Your choice, champ. Tonight’s all about you.”

She scrolled through the options and settled on Inside Out, something they both enjoyed. As the movie started, Laney snuggled closer, her head resting on his chest, the fort creating a magical little world just for them.

Stu-E felt a deep sense of contentment wash over him. This was the reward he cherished most—these simple, precious moments with his daughter. The weight of the championship and the intensity of the night's battles faded away, replaced by the pure joy of relaxing with Laney.

The Morning After…

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of the hotel suite, Stu-E Price awoke, feeling the lingering soreness in his muscles, a testament to the previous night's brutal battle. He glanced at Laney, still asleep beside him, her peaceful expression a stark contrast to the chaos of the arena.

Quietly, he slipped out of the room, they didn’t even make it out of their fort, both falling asleep halfway through the movie, and headed into the bathroom. The mirror reflected the aftermath of his victory—bruises mottled his skin, a cut above his eyebrow, and every movement reminded him of the toll the Ring Master event had taken. He dressed carefully, choosing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, the simple attire making his injuries stand out even more.

Stu-E moved back to the suite and gently woke Laney. "Time to get up, sweetheart. We’ve got a busy day ahead."

Laney yawned and stretched, her eyes lighting up when she remembered the events of the night before. "Okay, Daddy," she said, her voice still soft with sleep. She quickly got up to go get dressed. As he waited, he glanced over at the World title; it still isn’t sinking in. His name is on it, he lifted an actual World Championship in probably the biggest promotion he’s ever been a part of.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he signed that contract thinking it would be a one-off appearance for the reunion show then he’d be wheeled out from time to time as a bit of nostalgia act. Price certainly never expected to wrestle almost every show, never expected to have such a great win/loss record and didn’t expect to be held in such high regard by the fans.

He smiles at where he’s found himself in the twilight of his career, picking the belt up and draping it over his shoulder as he knows full well the hotel lobby won’t be empty. Laney comes out, almost gliding across the carpet, with her little backpack on her shoulder.

As they exited the room and made their way to the lobby, the low hum of conversation grew louder. When they stepped through the main doors of the hotel, they were immediately met with a flurry of activity. Journalists and photographers crowded around, the clicks of cameras and shouts of questions creating a cacophony that was almost overwhelming.

Stu-E squared his shoulders, doing his best to project strength despite the pain that flared with each step. He held Laney's hand tightly, her small fingers wrapped around his, grounding him. Flashbulbs erupted, capturing every bruise, every cut, every sign of the fierce battles he had endured to claim the HWA Championship.

“Stu-E! How do you feel after last night’s victory?” one journalist shouted.

“What’s next for the new HWA Champion?” another called out.

Stu-E paused, turning to face the crowd. He kept his expression calm and composed, despite the pounding in his head and the ache in his body. "Last night was one of the toughest nights of my career," he said, his voice steady. "But it was all worth it. I couldn’t have done it without the support of my daughter and my fans."

Laney stood proudly beside him, clutching his hand, her presence a silent testament to his strength and motivation. He gave her a reassuring smile before continuing. "Right now, my focus is on recovery and spending time with my daughter. We’ll take it one day at a time."

The journalists continued to shout questions, but Stu-E gently guided Laney through the crowd, making his way to the waiting car. He opened the door for her, ensuring she was safely inside before climbing in himself. As the car pulled away, he looked out the window at the flashing cameras and eager faces, feeling a mix of exhaustion and triumph.

Laney leaned against him, he wrapped his arm around her, closing his eyes for a moment and allowing himself to breathe as the scene fades.