Hook w/ @itstaztvrp
danny always had trouble leaving the adrenaline in the ring. It never stayed where it belonged. It bled into everything; into his promos, into the way he walked, the way his shoulders never quite relaxed. It lived in his bloodstream like a second pulse, sharp and restless. Once upon a time, he’d danced to burn it off, let it spill out through movement and rhythm. Now it just… lingered. Coiled. Waiting. And lately, it had started showing up in the wrong moments; though Danny didn’t seem to notice.
One wireless earbud sat tucked in his right ear, his current favourite song humming low enough to stay private but loud enough to keep his thoughts from settling. His head nodded faintly to the beat as he moved through the backstage halls. The arena lights had dimmed slightly now that the show had rolled into its second half.
This was usually the point where he’d leave. Shower, change, slip out before the night dragged on too long. Before the buzz had time to turn into something sharper.
But that was before.
Before the Death Riders.
Now, leaving early wasn’t an option; it wasn’t even a thought. Expectations had shifted. He stayed because they stayed. Because Mox stayed. Because that was what it meant now. And that meant more time pacing, more time with energy clawing under his skin with nowhere to go.
His fingers hooked into the zipper of his jacket, absentmindedly dragging it up and down. The Death Riders logo caught the low light each time it moved, stark and deliberate against the dark fabric. Up. Down. Up. Down. A nervous tick disguised as habit.
He turned the corner without really thinking and stopped when he saw a familiar face.
"Hook!" danny's tone hardly conceals the excitement at seeing him.