[ his heart is pounding. even after all of these years, there's no mistaking that face. the hot stab of guilt and grief still hits as hard as it ever did, leaving him breathless and his indifferent, cocky mask slipping ever so slightly. his eyes are wide, expression raw.
the manager is trying to talk to him about the next match, what he wants, but he's no longer listening. his mood changes on a dime, going from the perfect heel to irritable and snappish. the man tries to catch his eye again but he shoots him a look and starts towards the crowd he'd last seen dick in.]
Oh, come on. [ he mutters under his breath. shake of it off. he swallows and pulls himself together, raising his voice to be heard under the thunder of the next announcement, trying to regain that easy confidence and mood. ] It's not polite to stare.
no subject
the manager is trying to talk to him about the next match, what he wants, but he's no longer listening. his mood changes on a dime, going from the perfect heel to irritable and snappish. the man tries to catch his eye again but he shoots him a look and starts towards the crowd he'd last seen dick in.]
Oh, come on. [ he mutters under his breath. shake of it off. he swallows and pulls himself together, raising his voice to be heard under the thunder of the next announcement, trying to regain that easy confidence and mood. ] It's not polite to stare.