David Hardy slowly wiped his stinging eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. He had been staring up at the same spot for so long that he could burn a hole through it. It wasn't very often that he stayed in one spot for so long, let alone thinking the entire time. It was weird.

It was shortly after noon now, and the sun was more than generous today in showing off its luster. It inspired the Aftershock Superstar to actually get out of bed. He made it all the way over to the couch of the main room before slumping back down. As inspiring as it was, the sun failed in inspiring him to put some clothes on over just his boxers. Besides, he had more important things on his mind.

The television played faintly in the background, but Hardy paid no mind to it. Some variety show in Portuguese wasn't as appealing to Hardy as one would think. He momentarily looked down at his hands. The bullet wounds weren't recovering as fast as he had hoped. Neither were the many bumps on his head, thanks to his recent run ins with the Terminator, and more recently, and possibly even more confusingly, his old partner Highone.

It had now been several weeks since Highone had maid his triumphant return by laying out Hardy in an uncharacteristically treacherous double cross. Attacks like this were hardly uncommon from someone like Highone, but Highone was someone who could usually be trusted. He had always been someone who would have your back through thick and thin, until the very end. Even after several fuckups on the road, Highone always stood by Hardy and vise versa. That was the Highone he knew; his best friend, or so he thought.

Even after several weeks, Hardy still hadn't figured out why Highone did it, nor had he gotten over it. It was a weird feeling for the young superstar, something he wasn't used to. It was almost like he had just been cheated on by a longtime lover. Hardy blinked and looked to the side.

"Well that's weird way of putting it," he said in a potentially fourth wall breaking comment.

But it wasn't that far off. He almost felt heartbroken, in a totally non gay way. Highone was someone Hardy would have taken a bullet for, and the one person he could truly call a friend. Now who did he have?

The television feed suddenly cut out, leaving the room completely silent.

"Exactly..." Hardy muttered.

Everyone he called a friend, partner or acquaintance was all out of his life now and probably wanted nothing to do with him. Infinity, his brothers, other wrestlers, countless ex-girlfriends, there was no way he could lean on any of them now. His actions over the years had more than alienated such relationships. Now all he had was himself... and the woman whose hotel room he was currently occupying.

Hardy finally got to his feet and did a 360 scan of the area. It was almost a fantasy how big this room was. He had been in a fair share of penthouse suites, but this was something else. It was bigger than a lot of houses that he's seen, sprawling all across the roof of the high-rise hotel. There was enough open space to hold a soccer game, or perhaps a wrestling match...

Which is exactly what happened the night before, but in a completely different manner. Hardy snickered as he glanced towards the oversized bedroom. He shook his head with a small smile on his face as he stepped out onto the large balcony and looked across the way at the second, and slightly larger of the hotel's two towers. He didn't even seem to care that he was in his underwear as he scanned the other building.

He could see clearly into the rooms of other people, probably vacationing. His eyes curiously analyzed these people he would never meet, nor want to. He saw one man reclining on a chair on the deck, soaking up the sun. He could see a group of men all wearing different soccer jerseys in one room, all of them leaning towards the television and screaming. He looked up to see a yuppie in a suit talking into two cell phones. Straight ahead he could see an attractive young woman looking out her window down to the courtyard. She was holding a small baby and pointing down at something. Hardy narrowed his eyes as he watched them, trying to make sense out of the joy their body language presented. Hardy shook his head, feeling almost sorry for the girl. He couldn't make out her face, but she looked damn hot, and it was a shame she probably got knocked up by accident. Now she was going to have that parasite leaching off of her for the rest of her life.

Something Hardy could never imagine himself doing was starting a family, or being with a woman for an extended period of time. He was far too selfish for something like that; at least that's what he told himself. In his mind he convinced himself that he was only in it for himself, and that there was nobody out there that could change his ways. His emotions regarding two different red-heads would prove otherwise, but Hardy wasn't about to submit to something like that.

Though it got him to thinking about Valerie Stern, and this thing between them... whatever it was. Hardy turned around and leaned against the balcony railing as he looked into the hotel room palace. He didn't deserve to be here, and he knew it, but he couldn't figure out why he was. His feeling about Stern and this odd relationship were a blur. It started as completely a business relationship... did it? Hardy couldn't even remember now. It had now escalated into something bigger and more confusing than he could imagine. Maybe this was just a plain old physical relationship, something that seemed extremely out of Stern's character. She was a hardass who never showed any sort of emotion to the TCW roster, and engaging in anything other than a business relationship was something she'd never dare do.

But still, there was this thing. By this point it was both physical and business, but seemed to be morphing into something altogether different. Hardy scoffed at the thought of romantic feeling towards his boss, but knew he couldn't deny them. It wasn't something that happened often, but he was starting to get the same feeling he had for a different red haired hottie a long time ago. He couldn't quite figure out why it was coming to this, but he didn't exactly dislike it. He had no idea though, how she saw all this and that ate away at him too. It felt like he was on speeding car in the darkness with no brakes or headlights. Whatever the case was, though, he didn't want to get out of that car.

But now what he was doing was just plain dangerous. In any of their previous evening meetings, Hardy would escape to his own hotel room in the safeness of night. But for the first time he had spent the whole night in her suite. It was both comforting and terrifying. If he had been caught in her room, a shitstorm of rumors would break out, as if there weren't enough already. And if they were ever caught together outside of a TCW event, it would be a potentially career ending scandal. Hardy figured it would be game over, probably for both of them.

It was about that time he realized that he was standing on her balcony, in plain sight, wearing nothing but his boxers. If anyone recognized him or got a snapshot, the shit would hit the fan. Without much hesitation, he hopped back inside and closed the balcony door.

***********************

Rachelle Leah smiled as she looked out the window. In one arm she held her young daughter who gurgled and laughed as she followed her mother's hand. She was a beautiful little thing, and her big blue eyes gleamed with joy. The child was somehow more beautiful that the gorgeous combination of her parents, and they couldn't be more proud. Her mother kissed her on the head and smiled warmly down at her. The child was the embodiment of the idea that the best things in life were surprises.

"How are my angels doing?"

Rachelle turned to face her proud husband, who was leaning against the back wall. Highone's face was a bit red and his shirt was sweaty, having just gotten back from a local gym. He was still in great shape, but had a small bit of rust to shake off, nothing a few more workouts and spars wouldn't take care of. It felt great to be lined up with a wrestling match again, as he was anxious to get back in the ring. He only hoped it was as easy as he remembered, though he knew his upcoming challenge wouldn't be a walk in a park.

"I can smell you from here..." Rachelle smiled.

Highone shrugged as he approached his two leading ladies, "The sweet smell of masculinity, I know."

Rachelle laughed and wrinkled her nose as her husband came over and hugged both her and their daughter. After a long, smelly bear hug, he kissed them both and stepped back to pull his shirt off. He quickly toweled himself off before taking his child and sitting down on the couch. Highone held his daughter and sighed softly as she gripped onto his chest hairs. His wife sat down next to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

"So have you taken care of this thing of yours yet?" she asked.

"Almost," Highone responded, "It's been made official; I'm facing Hardy at the next show, just caught an ad for it at the gym."

"Wow... that was quick..." Rachelle said, a bit surprised.

Highone nodded, "You ain't kidding, I didn't even request it yet. I guess Hardy has more guts than I remembered."

Little did he know that Hardy hadn't even heard about the match yet.

Rachelle smirked and ran her hand through Highone's hair and gently over the bumps and bruises on his head.

"Judging by these welts, I think you already know he has guts..."

Highone rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. Well I also know he's an unstable man-child with a ridiculous temper."

"Y'know," Rachelle said, "You don't have to do this, we could just leave now and go back home."

Highone sat quietly for a few moments, rubbing his daughter's back.

"No..." he said, "I have to do this. It'll only be a few more days, and then we can go back. I promise."

Rachelle sighed and wrapped an arm around him, "I don't get why this is such a big deal to you..."

Highone didn't respond, he just sat quietly, sorting through his thoughts.

"Maybe it would be better if you two head back ahead of me," Highone said, "If I know Hardy, this could get really violent, and I don't want you two to get involved in it."

Rachelle pinched his stomach, "Stop worrying about it, he doesn't even know we exist, and we're in this hotel under a private name, there's no way he's going to even get near here..."

Highone shrugged, "Yeah, I guess so. I just don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

Rachelle smiled as she ran her hand over his knuckles, "I think you do..."

This brought a smile on Highone's face. He lived a much more peaceful life now, but it will be good to get rid of his last bit of aggression inside of him, then retire for good. He kissed his wife and his daughter again before gently handing the now sleeping baby to her. He slowly got to his feet.

"I think I'm gonna take a quick shower, then I have to head to the arena to sign some forms or something. Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?" Highone asked.

Rachelle smiled again, "I said, stop worrying."

She winked at him and got a grin in return. Highone took a glance out the window; most of his view was obstructed by another hotel, but he smiled anyway.

"I think it's going to be a beautiful day..."

******************************************

"It's a beautiful day!"

Those lyrics exploded out of the on suite stereo in Valerie Stern's hotel room as U2 played much too loud for human ears. Hardy was sure to take advantage of the soundproof suite as he now sat in the bedroom. After much inner debate, Hardy had finally convinced himself to slide on a pair of light cargo pants and a blue wife beater shirt. He was sitting on the bedroom floor against the bed, with one of Stern's suitcases next to him.

"Where is that thing?" he asked himself.

The large suitcase was open and Hardy was rummaging through the different compartments. He grabbed a handful of stuff and pulled his hand out. A juvenile chuckle came from his mouth as he held a few pairs of underwear. With a shake of head he stuck his hand back in the suitcase. He waved his hand back and forth a few times before grabbing something hard. His eyes widened.

"Do I even wanna know what this is?" he laughed softly.

With a shrug, he took his hand out and zipped that compartment closed. He opened the last compartment and slid his hand in. After a few seconds, he found what he was looking for.

"There it is..." he smiled.

He pulled his hand out, bringing a laptop computer with him. He set it gently on his lap and opened it up, turning it on.

"Thank heaven for wireless internet," he said.

After a few seconds, waiting for it to connect, he finally opened up the internet browser. Sure enough, it opened up to TCW.com, just what he was looking for. The website usually posts the match card for the next event, and Hardy still didn't know who he would be squaring off against this week. Not that it really mattered, since Highone would probably try to fuck it up anyway.

With a yawn he clicked on the Havoc preview page. After rubbing his eyes he looked at the screen and nearly shit a brick. The intimidating visage of Highone stared back at him from the webpage. He knew he should not have been surprised but it was still a shock he never expected to have. At the top of the card was Hardy's name, and he was scheduled to take on Highone.

"That son of a bitch..." he muttered.

It was bad enough that Highone came around to attack Hardy, but now to request a match. Who did Highone think he was, Hardy thought. The inner conflict erupted again as he debated his thoughts on this. On one hand he wanted to get Highone back for his douchebaggery, though on the other, he didn't want to fight the man he once called his best friend. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed Stern's office number. He had no idea what he was going to say to her, but he had to speak with her.

Hello, you've reached the office of the TCW Commissioner, Valerie Stern. All calls are screened by default, so if you'd like to get in touch with Ms. Stern, please leave a message!

"God dammit..." Hardy muttered.

He slammed the phone shut and put the laptop down. In a confused and upset manner, he pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his hands through his hair, pulling slightly. For once in his life he had no idea what he wanted, and had nobody to turn to. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a beautiful day after all...

"Hello, you've reached the office of the TCW Commissioner, Valerie St-..."

The frustation in David Hardy's face was obvious. It was the third time the AfterShock Champion had tried to get a hold of Twisted Championship Wrestling's HBIC, more importantly his newfound confidant, and three times in a row he'd failed. It seemed as though getting Stern on the phone was akin to a member of Infinity beating TCW's Unified Champion Darkness in a match - improbable bordering on impossible. He quickly closed his phone, then began to grind his teeth together while forming a bitter-beer scowl on his face.

David wondered if perhaps his overly bold, albeit innocent, stroll onto her balcony had frightened her, made her more wary of exactly what was at stake if it was revealed she was in a physical relationship with one of her employees. They were both adults, but the simple hint of impropreity on Valerie's part could have disastrous effects on both her professional reputation and the company's image in the eyes of fans. What if viewers started questioning the results as having been pre-determined, the perception being the head of TCW letting wrestlers sleep their way to the top? It was no doubt a risk the commissioner shouldn't be taking...and yet she still had.

In typical Hardy fashion, the hot-headed youngster dismissed the silver lining to his cloud and continued to bask in its downpour. After all, why would a beautiful, wealthy, powerful woman become emotionally invested in him? He was just a foul-mouthed, party-loving, groupie-defiling wrestler who had never even sniffed the biggest prize in the industry. David knew he was perhaps being a bit paranoid, but in a world where Highone could attack him after months in...

The Canadian stopped gritting his choppers and bowed his head in shame. He realized, at the truth of the matter, he wasn't 100% sure where Highone had been. But, regardless, Hardy knew his former tag-team partner had demolished him with a steel folding chair in front of the world. He'd seen the replay time and time again whether on YouTube, a TCW highlights show, or the brightly lit theatre of his mind. Tough as Hardy might act, the assault at Retribution was still a sore subject for David and not just because of the strawberry still remaining on his forehead.

The AfterShock champion thought back to when he'd stated the one bout he wanted more than anything was against Highone, a man he respected both for his ability in the ring and guidance outside of it. How had dream turned to nightmare in such a short span of time? It wasn't supposed to be like this. The showdown at the RoXoRz Corral wasn't supposed to involve sneak attacks and backstage shenanigans. Hardy had envisioned the two of them would smoke a few trademark Highone blunts, then sip on aged red wine while they caught up on old times over perfectly seasoned steaks and baked potatos the size of bowling balls. David gave his cell phone another glance.

After a momentary pause and a deep sigh, Hardy reached over and picked the portable device up for the umpteenth time since sunset. He hit redial and listed to the electronic purr of Valerie's unanswered phone ringing. It was a countdown of sorts, but in reverse - a countup if you will. David's blood pressure rose with every repetitive sound emanating from the receiver. One...two...three... His boosters were beginning to fire up, his temper a rocketship ready to launch. ...four... His eyelids flared open. ...five...

"Hello, you've reached the offi-..."

Blast off!!!

David hurled his mobile at the hotel wall and watched it splinter into three chunks of Japan's finest plastic. Hardy swung his feet over sideways and planted them on the tiled floor. He marched with furious intent towards the door of his hotel room. If Valerie wouldn't answer her phone, David knew exactly where he could eventually find her - Estádio Machado, the soon-to-be home for TCW Havoc. He slammed the door behind him and stomped down the hallway. It was time to get some answers the only way David Hardy knew how....seek and destroy.


------


For Highone, it certainly had been a beautiful day thus far. He'd made love to his wife early in the morning, while the blue of dawn bathed their skin in a thick quiet having a baby so rarely afforded them. Highone had looked into her coffee-brown eyes, touched the inside of her neck before they kissed for the final time prior to a few short-lived moments of slumber before their daughter woke up, and known in that instant why he was in a modest hotel deep in South America. After watching his wife feed their daughter, a mist in his eyes he would laugh off if suspected of such at a poker game with his friends back home, Highone had shared a quick breakfast with Rachelle, then headed to workout at a Chute Boxe-affiliated training center in Natal. He'd since showered and was now in the backseat of a meager taxi zooming to the arena Havoc was to be held at.

The former patriarch of Infinity paid the cab driver, including a nicely-sized tip, and stepped from the beat-up white Toyota Corolla. Though a modest stadium in comparison to a work of art like Madison Square Garden, Estádio Machado still seemed a bit intimidating to a man who hadn't competed in close to a full year. He pushed his way past a few pigeons that had collected on the ground and entered the soccer-style venue. The hallways had a familiar smell to them. It was something like sweat mixed with beer and Snow Cone syrup. Highone took in a deep breath and smiled. He was finally home...away from home.

While some things were the same, others had certainly changed. He saw a number of new faces walking around the halls backstage, while the faces he recognized were few and far-between. To face facts, Highone hadn't exactly left the ranks of TCW a beloved member so it wasn't like he expected a plethora of fruit baskets to be waiting for him upon his return to the organization. And, honestly, the man who had held every title in the company save one wasn't there to munch on any apples. His mission was simple, involving only the desire to sign the forms he'd been called in for and duck out in relative anonymity for the comfort of Rachelle's arms.

Highone's paperwork was over in record time with the written placement of a few initials and a signature or two. The documents were essentially a few basics required by the local government for competition as well as a "One-Plus" contract with TCW. The form made his participation in the match against David Hardy official as well as gave him an option to compete at a future event pending the result of Havoc. He shook hands with Valerie Stern and left her office. Highone wasn't more than three steps out of her doorway when he spotted a familiar brooding mane of dark hair.

The temporarily dazed superstar supposed another pre-event confrontation with Hardy was inevitable if not more than one of them. Highone shook off the funk and continued walking in a straight line. He was in no mood to fight but would defend himself physically if "verbally" didn't pan out. David wasn't known to always act in a rational manner as more than one battered TCW superstar could attest to. Highone stopped and braced himself for the hurricane-force gale that was no doubt about to come.

He prepared to open his mouth, but before Highone could say anything he found himself caught completely offguard by David's next maneuver - the Canadian Kid continued on his beeline for the commissioner's temporary office. Highone was clueless if it was due to his healthier appearance, a lack of exposure to each other over the past year, or Hardy's current tunnel vision, but apparently the former RoXoR didn't notice him standing in the hallway. Highone turned and watched David bang on Valerie's door, then slam it shut after he entered the room in quite a tizzy.

The new father with an old soul stood there for a moment in a state of absolute confusion. Had he really just avoided a heart-to-heart laced with potential for violence? He thought about what was waiting for him back at his hotel. Highone smiled, then without a moment's hesitation began to walk back towards the cab stand in front of the arena. Years ago he might have waited for David to come out of Stern's office, then bushwhacked him with a Snake Strike making his legs lock together like a bad case of Locomotor Mortis. Hell, he might have even busted into the commissioner's place of business and taken the long-haired champion out in front of her while security attempted to pry the two apart. But that was then and this was now. Time is far more precious when pure love awaits you.

A beautiful day, perhaps; a beautiful life, definitely.

*oops, double-clicked submit*