Events prior still clouded his mind. 1 minute, 26 seconds. The travesty, the embarrassment, the sheer frustration continued to rest on his thoughts. The man had ended the iconic streak, the man had destroyed numerous foes, ended careers. Dismantled giants, but fell in such a short time. It’s a blow to his ego, the beast is shaken almost. Despite not being one to admit it, he’s affected by this loss. Perhaps more than anyone could ever actually comprehend, the beast is still a man after all. And even men have their own moments. The massive figure of man pushed his way through backstage, it’s apparent he’s never been really welcomed here. And that’s always been fine with him, but tonight seems different. The aura through the backstage area is silent, they know he’s emotional, borderline about to snap. The usual dirty looks are absent, everyone seems to understand. Tonight isn’t the night to mess with Brock, not tonight. Not after what just happened out there. The male continues to push himself through the waiting eyes, lingering his frame further backstage eventually reaching one of the many corridors. His orbs focusing on a silent figure alone, leaning against one of the walls. Brock steadies himself to move past them, eventually stopping as in the corner of his eye he recognises them. It’s her, one of the many people he’s actually been able to have a conversation with before. Someone who for the most part, he’s been able to be pleasant with. A swift turn of his head, as the male stops in his tracks. “Seems like we’re both on the losing side tonight, figured you would’ve left by now.” Arched brow, as he leaned awaiting her response. It’s not tense, just different. Both of them had tasted defeat tonight, both of them had felt that cold sting. It’s not pleasant, it never has been, it never will be.
