The scene opens up into a quiet afternoon at the HWA Academy, several days following the Road to Ruin Go-Home edition of Havoc.

The echo of weights clinking and light chatter from the training rings on the ground floor fill the background, but the atmosphere is more subdued than usual. In one of the private training rooms, Sean Parker stands side-on, in front of a mirror, shadow boxing as he throws slow, methodical punches, as if lost in thought. His face is focused, but there’s a tension in his movements that reveals he’s still dwelling on the events of the previous show.

As if on cue, Butch Parker himself, walks into view, adorned in a casual get-up of jeans and an untucked, buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He doesn’t speak at first, opting to lean on his weight on the frame of the inside of the doorway, arms crossed as watches Sean work out in silence for a moment before speaking up.

(Butch): You always did have a strong right hook.

Sean stops mid-combo, his jaw tightening. He glances over at his uncle, already knowing where this conversation is headed.

He shakes his head slightly.

(Sean): If you’ve come here to give me a lecture, you’re wasting your breath, Butch. You saw what happened. Price got exactly what he asked for and I let him have it. Did you really expect me to just stand there and let him patronize me? Insult Michelle?

Butch steps forward, his shoes making a heavy thud with each step. He’s calm, but his emerald green eyes are sharp.

(Butch): What I expect is for you to at least try some semblance of self-control. You let your emotions take over out there, and that’s not how we handle things. Not you, not the way you were raised in this business.

(Sean): Are you kidding me right now? You’re seriously telling me if someone disrespected Wisdom the way Price did with Michelle, you’d take the high road?

Sean dismisses Butch’s notion with a wave of his hand. He then clenches his hands into fists, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

(Sean): I’m not gonna just continue to let Stu-E’s pathetic jibes slide, Butch. He’s lucky I didn’t smash his face into the table at the restaurant. I did what you asked then, I smiled and waved and I got the hell out of there. He knew exactly what he was doing then and he knew exactly what he was doing at Havoc. No, I’ve bit my lip for long enough, Butch.

Butch sighs loudly, exhaling through his nose and nods slowly, his face softening just a bit.

(Butch): Okay, I get that. Stu-E knows exactly how to push your buttons, and he did. But here’s the thing, Sean ; that’s what he wants. He wants you to lose your cool, to react, to make it personal. And you gave him exactly that.

Sean wipes sweat from his brow, pacing a few steps before stopping in front of his uncle.

(Sean): Yeah, well, f**k him. I meant exactly what I said afterwards and what I said earlier too. At Road to Ruin, I’m going to do what I should’ve done at Ring Master.

Butch exhales again, glancing back at the main training ring in the distance before focusing back on Sean.

(Butch): You’re a professional, Sean, just keep it that way, please. This is about picking your moments. Just make sure you pick the right one come the PPV.

Sean lets the words sink in, his posture stiff but his mind clearly turning things over. He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head again. A moment later, there’s a knock on the door frame and Hans von Richtoven appears.

(Hans): Guten tag…

Having just popped his head in, the rest of his body appears as he rounds the door frame properly and takes a step into the room, eyes flickering first to Sean, then to Butch.

(Hans): Butch… Sean…

Another step forward, all the while he has a relaxed gait to him, the surroundings of the Academy putting him at ease, even as he finds himself in the same room as someone he came to blows with at Havoc. Upon seeing one of his Road to Ruin opponents appear, Sean double-takes momentarily, straightening his posture up. Noticing the fleeting tension, Butch’s eyes dart between his friend and his nephew.

(Butch): Please don’t tell me I need to play referee again.

Sean exchanges glances between both Hans and Butch before shaking his head reassuringly.

(Sean): Don’t worry, I don’t know about Hans but I think we both got that out of our system at Havoc.

(Hans): Jah…

He glances at Sean. A slight tip of the head occurs.

(Hans): Und we don’t have Herr Price pushing all das buttons right now, jah?

He comes to a rest standing beside Sean’s shoulder.

(Hans): Nein, mein freund, you don’t need to be referee today.

A look of instant relief washes over Butch’s face, his body language instantly changing too, as evident by the relaxing of his shoulders

(Butch): At least I can count on you to keep things civil; unlike some.

Butch raises his eyebrows comically, inclining his head in an over-exaggerated manner towards Sean who just shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

(Hans): I’ve had practice, mein freund.

A somewhat melancholic look flits over his face.

(Hans): Though we were just as guilty in the past, jah?

He throws a thumb over his shoulder before Butch has a chance to answer.

(Hans): I was going to get a coffee. Will eins?

A comically approving expression cuts across Butch’s face at the mention of coffee.

(Butch): I wouldn’t say new to a coffee. You coming Sean? Or do you want more time to brood?

Sean rolls his eyes again, trying not to smile, knowing full well his uncle is on the wind-up.

(Sean): If it’ll stop you from doing whatever this is, then fine, coffee sounds good.

Adjusting to this dynamic of all three of them going, Hans nevertheless takes it in his stride, turning about face slowly and making for the wider floor of the facility beyond the training room they’ve been in.

With a slight turn of the head to see that both Sean and Butch are following, he paces himself to allow them to close up and walk together.

(Hans): So wird Matthew or I see you auf den matten today, Sean?

Catching himself, knowing that Sean hasn’t spent as long around him as Butch has, he clarifies, gesturing back at the room they’ve just vacated.

(Hans): Or do you have more to do there, jah?

(Sean): Oh, yeah, no, I’m done for today.

Continuing the conversational tone, Hans then follows up.

(Hans): So what’s next then? Gaming?

(Sean): I’d say no, but this one…

Sean throws a mocking thumb jab in Butch’s direction.

(Sean): … wants me to watch the kids whilst he and the lady of the manor go out for dinner. So, yeah, I can see David trying to convince me to let him play Space Marine 2… which, you know, as a responsible babysitter…. I would never do…

An eyebrow arches up as Hans hears this and he can’t help but look across at Butch.

(Hans): David old enough, jah? Seems violent.

Even as he says it, he shrugs.

(Hans): Ah, mein vater let me watch Predator when I was young, what am I saying?

(Butch): He’s watched worse with me but that’s for us to know and Wisdom to never find out.

(Hans): Remind me to say nothing to Vanessa when it comes to babysitting in a few years, jah?

(Butch): Mum’s the word, my friend. Right, I’m parched, are we getting coffee or what?

By this time they’ve reached the far end of the floor they’ve been on, ahead of them is a set of double doors leading to the small coffee stall set up for the HWA staff to avail themselves of.

Downstairs was the full canteen, so this small open plan room set aside was perfect for those in the offices for a quick drink.

(Hans): After you.

The three of them step through, Hans holding the door for Butch and Sean.

Ahead of them are two other staffers, but besides that the queue is non-existent.

The lady behind the counter has clocked their arrival, shouting over to Hans if he’d want his usual to which he nods and smiles.

The lady looks to Sean and Butch asking them for their order.

(Barista): The usual, Mr Parker?

Butch gives her a smile and nod.

(Butch): You know me, hen.

He jerks his head to the side again, gesturing Sean in Sean’s direction with a sly wink and smirk.

(Butch): And get the wee one here a baby hot chocolate.

Hans can’t help but involuntarily chuckle as Sean just gives Butch a knowing look.

(Sean): You’re getting as bad as Price for your bad jokes and wind-up attempts.

Sean moves his gaze from Butch to the barista.

(Sean): A caramel iced latte, please.

Another shared look between Hans and Butch comes as this is said.

(Butch): All that money we spent on ensuring the AC system in the Academy is top notch, and he still needs a cool drink.

(Hans): Us Europeans, jah?

(Butch): Ach, I know.

A brief gesture is made with one hand towards Sean who pointedly ignores his uncle.

(Butch): But he’s spent the last 10 odd years in it. You’d think he’d no need whatever that is.

Another gesture towards where the barista has started work on their drinks.

(Hans): Coming from the man who enjoys Dark Fruit cider…

A knowing glance towards his friend, who takes it in good humour.

The next few minutes pass as their drinks are prepared.

(Barista): Right, there you go guys.

(Hans): Danke.

The other two thank her as they take their drinks in turn.

Taking a sip of his own coffee, Butch rounds on the pair of them.

(Butch): Right you pair, I’ve got a call to make with George Cheeks, so I need to get back for that.

Butch tips his takeaway coffee cup to his friend and to his nephew before taking his leave. An awkward silence occurs between the remaining two as Butch makes his way back the way they’d come.

Looking for a way to break it, Hans tilts his own cup in the direction of the various pastries and packaged grab’n’go options.

(Hans): Did you manage to get something to eat after you left?

Sean shakes his head vehemently following the direction of Hans’ gesture.

(Sean): Not after a workout, nothing from here anyway. I’ll get a protein shake and some fruit when I get home.

Another brief, awkward silence hangs in the air which Sean tries to break.

(Sean): Look… about Havoc… this whole thing with Price? I’m sorry for you getting caught in the crosshairs of it all. You know how much I respect you. You and Uncle Butch go way back. You and Sensei have looked out for me for years when Uncle Butch couldn’t. And for what it’s worth, I only wish you weren’t in this match so you and I could do things properly. It doesn’t feel right the first time we’re involved in a match together, it’s in these sort of circumstances.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Hans nods, before extending one arm and gesturing towards one side of the room out of immediate ear shot of anyone else there.

(Hans): Sean… look…

Another sip of his coffee as he composes his thoughts.

(Hans): Das industry… Jah, this happens. We end up doing dieser mist… this crap.

He nods towards the younger man, his tone of voice mellow and understanding.

(Hans): For what it’s worth? Jah, same.

Sean manages himself a small semblance of a smile, finding some much needed solace in Hans’ words.

(Sean): Well, maybe once, whatever happens at Road to Ruin happens, you and I can do things properly, the way you and Jeremy did. Hopefully with the title on the line?

(Hans): Jah, that would be nice to do. No distractions, you und I.

He smirks, winking to show no real force behind his next words.

(Hans): My first successful title defense of many.

Sean grins, sensing the lighthearted sentiment beneath Hans’ statement.

(Sean): I don’t know, the first second generation HWA World Champion sounds pretty good.

A tilt of his coffee cup towards Sean at these words.

(Hans): Ja, das tut es.

He looks at Sean more seriously.

(Hans): Look Sean, one thing that Matthew unt myself haven’t been able to teach you fully is that everyone has their own motivations, their own drive und their own needs.

You, Jeremy, Matt bis zu einem gewissen grad… die damen… Michelle und Sarah…

You all have something unique. Jah, the lot of you were HWA for a long time. I know the vision Matthew und Butch instilled, because it’s my vision too, jah?

These ”matches” like Herr Chaos had with Matt, und das ”zoo” match? Blödsinn, utter blödsinn.

But your uncle, mein freund… he let them happen.

A small sigh comes from him.

(Hans): What I’m trying to say Sean, is that not everything is black und white. Browbeating everyone because they didn’t stick around, you harden opinions against you, jah? Do you think I would return to HWA with mein frau if Senester was still here? If there was a hint he still had control behind das scenes? Nein.

It’s like your games. You play them to escape, jah? To heal yourself, calm yourself.

Das ist what I did.

You need to be more like Jeremy mein freund.

He doesn’t like what has happened, but he doesn’t catch others in das crossfire.

He stops, throwing a weak smile at Sean, before nodding at their surroundings.

(Hans): Apologies… a bit heavy for these surroundings, jah?

Sean smiles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

(Sean): Look, I get what you’re saying, I do. But let me ask you something, Hans. All those years ago, when you and Butch and Sensei all came back. And then Talon Wilkinson, Eddie K, Anton and Davis and that whole crew came in.

You guys didn’t like it, because they tried to turn HWA into their own personal playground. I know Uncle Butch couldn’t stand how much Talon and Eddie thought they were the best thing that ever happened to HWA and I know you, your brother and Sensei all thought the same.

You all fought so hard to build HWA into something to be proud of when guys like Ronnie McNeil, Buff Bridges and all those other guys tuck-tailed and ran. You all fought to preserve something you believed in, because you were there before they decided they thought HWA was theirs to do with as they pleased.

That’s how I feel… except I’ve been here longer than you, Sensei and Uncle Butch were. Matt, Jeremy and I re-built this place into something worth being proud of. It was us putting our bodies on the line in school gymnasiums in front of thirty people every night. It was our hard work that got us here.

That’s why I go on about this like a stuck record. The guys and girls Sensei and Uncle Butch put their faith in were the ones that got us to where we are. That’s why having a guy like Price holding the title that I’ve dreamed about holding for twenty years, telling me he can let me have it whenever he wants, pisses me off so much. Because he doesn’t care about the title and the prestige it carries. But you do. And I guess that’s why I could never understand why you waited so long to answer Uncle Butch’s call…

Do you know, when he called Sensei… do you know how long that conversation lasted? All of two minutes. That’s how long it took for Sensei to know Uncle Butch needed him… needed me. But you were so damn paranoid he was still under Senester’s thumb that you refused him. That hurts him more than he cares to let on, Hans… and it hurts me too. That’s why I need to win this match… that’s why, irrespective of how much I respect you, respect Vanessa… neither you or Price know now what it means to be HWA World Champion…

Sean finally stops, feeling his emotions flaring up and then a moment of calm washes over him, like that familiar ethereal hand placing itself on his shoulder.

(Sean): Sorry… like you said, a little bit heavy for these surroundings…

Hans nods at this, silence falling between them.

Taking another sip of his coffee, he swallows slowly before he responds carefully, his words considered.

(Hans): To your last point first, das ist something we all say to ourselves und others, so I take your words in that manner Sean. When I won my belt, it had been defiled by Talon und Eddie wasting it away, letting its prestige slouch off like grime und dirt.

Don’t tell me that I don’t know what it means to HWA World Champion Sean if you do respect me.

Raising his coffee back up, he nevertheless stops it before it reaches his lips.

His tone dips more into that of someone repressing deep memories, keeping them from flooding to the surface.

(Hans): As for Butch’s call? Mein freund, I envy you for not being as exposed to Senester as Butch und I were. There is a lot of water under that bridge und it took mein schatz to want to go back before I… before I… scheiße, before I even entertained the idea.

Jah, it hurts your uncle, he’s mein freund. It hurt me also. You have not walked my path, just as I have not walked yours.

Something catches in his throat, and he pauses briefly.

Another nod of the head towards Sean.

(Hans): I think you und I want the same thing Sean, we just don’t see it the same way on how to get there.

(Sean): Then you must have an understanding of how I’ve been these last few months, why when guys like Maniac, Lunatik and Price act the way they do, why it infuriates me so. You’re the only one that looks like you understand what this company means to us. That’s it’s not just a cash-grab or a chance to relive past glories at the expense of those who worked their arses off to get it back to where it should be. And my winning the World Championship would be the vindication of that.

It should’ve been Matt. It needed to be Matt. He kept us going, even when I was feeling too sore or tired, he was the one to rally us. And his moment was taken from him before he even had his chance. So to hear Price speak so dismissively about the championship that guys like Uncle Butch, guys like you fought so hard to bring honour back to… urgh… yeah… you get the idea. And, for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to question your character; I know you’re a standup guy and I know the mental toll Senester took on both of you. If Michelle and I were in the same boat, I know I’d probably make the same choice…

Another moment of silence between them passes.

Around them, ignorant of the conversation between them, the staffers go about their day.

(Hans): I do Sean, und nothing would give me more pleasure than to see this company be rid of certain people.

A snort of amusement comes from him.

(Hans): Scheiße, I’m beginning to sound like Tobias.

The two men share a smile, a fraction of the tension dissipating between them with it.

Hans waggles his now empty coffee cup.

(Hans): Listen Sean, danke für das gesprächn… you’ve got your gaming und I’ve got a class to teach.

Sean tips his coffee cup in Hans’ direction.

(Sean): I guess, if I don’t see you before, I’ll see you in Charlotte.

With a final nod of the head, the younger man turns away and walks towards the stairs leading towards the atrium and the exit beyond.

Compressing his thoughts back down, Hans moves over to the waste bin, composing himself for the remainder of the day ahead.

The scene fades out slowly to black.