Connor reflects on the opening match of Trick or Treat 2025. 860 words.
Connor bares his teeth in greeting, but doesn't say anything. He can be professional. He's the world champion, baby.
Connor is watching the monitors from backstage. He shouldn't be. He has a main event to worry about, after all. It's the opener of the show and Connor is worried about the outcome of someone else's match. Miracles really do exist.
Stephen Wolf seems to hate Christian Rose more than he does. It baffles him, to be honest. Connor is still wearing his father's vest to the ring. It is Halloween after all. He had to dress up. Even if nobody but Rose will notice a difference in his attire.
Wolf is holding his own. He always does. Every time Rose gets a leg up in the match, Connor's fingers twitch. He can't do anything about it. Their plan isn't ready yet. He isn't even sure he'll need the plan at all. He can't fuck it up just to get one over on his dad. He's better than that now.
He still cracks a little smile when Stephen kicks his face in.
It isn't enough to put him under. Of course it isn't. Stephen's good. Damn good. Better than this company deserves. But Rose borders on inhuman. He gets back up every time, even when you beg him not to.
Damien must have noticed him slip out of their dressing room because suddenly he's beside Connor, worry evident on his face. He looks like that a lot now.
He holds onto Connor's arm, almost childish in nature as both of them watch until the ref slaps the mat for the third time. It echoes in finality, a clean Christian Rose win. If anything he ever does is clean. Stephen should have won if this whole thing was fair. It never is.
Damien's face darkens a little, and he's pulling Connor around the corner before he can object.
They hide behind the curtain as the competitors start to head back inside. It makes Connor feel small and stupid.
“Damien, come on man.” He frowns, crossing his arms in a very adult and mature manner.
“Don't be stupid Connor.”
He looks at Connor like he's something serious. Like he's worth begging over. He grinds his teeth a little as he forces a smile.
“Me? Never.” Damien does not find this as funny as he does.
Footsteps echo and Damien shoves Connor behind him like he's the older brother. It makes Connor's gut churn a little. He doesn't move to correct it. They wait to see who's walking in first with the intensity of something far more dire.
Stephen comes first, his eyes clouded with frustration and something deeper. His chest is reddened and his fist is clenching and unclenching unconsciously. Connor moves to say something to him, Damien looks at him sharply until he pulls back.
Over the monitor he hears Rose start to spew some bullshit on the mic and he motions his head, giving them the clear to go back out into the open. He always talked too fucking much.
“Wolf.”
The man whips around, eyes blazing like he's rearing up for a punch until he processes who spoke. Stephen deflates, like Connor isn't a threat to him. Well, he isn't, but hey. Hurtful.
“Hey champ. You already need my help with somethin'?”
Connor scoffs. “Yeah right. I'm not even sure we'll need your help in the main event.” Damien kicks his shin.
Wolf raises his eyebrows. “He doesn't mean that. There's a back up plan for a reason.”
“What? You think I can't beat World Class jackass by myself? You wound me Damien.” Connor presses a hand to his chest dramatically.
He huffs, closing his eyes in annoyance. “You know that's not what I meant. Don't be an asshole, Connor.”
Stephen yelps out a laugh, surprised. “Kids got bark to him! You better listen to him, Hopkins.”
Connor smiles. He likes to watch people's faces when they realize Deschain isn't some quiet kid. That he fights back still. It fills him with the closest thing he's ever felt to pride.
Suddenly, there's the sound of the ring announcer speaking outside, and his spine straightens in realization. The curtain pushes open.
Rose walks in with a smile on his stupid face. He has always had nothing if not audacity.
Stephen’s hand freezes mid grasp at Connor's shoulder and Damien looks scared.
Christian looks between the three of them, raising an eyebrow. Like he has any right to judge… well anything, really.
Connor bares his teeth in greeting, but doesn't say anything. He can be professional. He's the world champion, baby.
Rose glances at Connor before dropping his gaze to his vest, and his face shutters. Goal achieved, he supposes.
There's a disdain in his eyes no matter how hard he tries to seem neutral, it bleeds through. Connor brings it out of him, always. It's a talent.
Rose takes a boot forward and it makes the air feel tighter.
Then, Stephen steps in front of him, in front of Damien and something swells in his chest. Almost daring him to come closer.
Connor puts an arm on Damien, in case he needs to pull him out of the line of fire.
