Adam leans back against his seat, feeling the airplane take off. He breathes in and out steadily, trying to grow reaccustomed to traveling after not doing it very much for the last month. He'd tried getting back onto schedule with it after Worlds End, but it was delaying his recovery. Trying to use a wheelchair hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped so rehab specialists and his personal doctor had encouraged him to stay home for a few weeks, see if that helped. And thankfully, it had. He'd gotten back into a rhythm with his rehab and now he can walk again.
Which is what he's going to do tonight, get out of the wheelchair and walk without assistance for the first time since last fall on national TV. It'll be great, a sigh of relief after months of struggle. He looks down at the ratty sneakers he wears for travel, just to swap them out for bright, new sneakers that he packs just for TV, when- His thoughts stutter to a stop and he shakes his head. "Oh, no."
He pulls his cell phone out and accesses wifi, holding his breath as he types out a quick message. 'Max, I think I forgot to pack my sneakers. Can you check? Might be by the bed.'
There's a pause, Adam's fingers pressing buttons spastically as he waits for a response. When it lights up with a new message alert, he grits his teeth and loads Max's text page, not surprised by the unfortunate response. 'Blinding green? Yeah, they're here. Sry, baybay.'
"Shit," he breathes, before texting back a quick, 'Damn. Thanks. I'll figure something out.' before powering his phone back off, rubbing at his forehead. Of all the things to go wrong, this would be the thing that would do him in. He casts another derisive glance at the beat up sneakers he's wearing and shakes his head. Hopefully I can borrow from someone at the arena, he thinks. No way in hell am I wearing these tonight...
He frets and worries until the plane lands and he makes his way to the arena, still in the wheelchair as gets pushed into the Undisputed Kingdom locker room by Matt Taven. "What's with the shoes?" he asks, putting the brakes on for him and stepping aside, settling down across from him on a chair, placing his tag title on the armrest.
"Packing mishap," Adam sighs. He's just about to ask Taven if he can help, or knows someone who can, when there's a knock on the door and a backstage worker peeks in, looking hesitant.
"Excuse me," she says. "There, uh. Catering brought in this package, says it's for Adam Cole." Her gaze flickers from Adam to Matt, before she sneaks further into the room, a box held out in front of her like a shield.
Matt stands and approaches, glancing over at Adam, who nods at him. He takes the box from the woman before closing the door on her, handing the box over to Adam on his way back to his seat. "What is it?" he asks curiously, watching with a quirked eyebrow as Adam uses his thumbnail to slit the tape holding it together open.
Adam peers inside, lips twitching up despite himself. "Oh, just shoes I ordered," he lies smoothly, staring down at the green sneakers nestled in paper deep in the box. "Couldn't wear these old ass things on TV, right?"
Matt scoffs, staring into the box. "Right," he says. "Well, I'm gonna go meet up with Mike and Roddy, if you need anything, just text."
"Will do," Adam says, waiting until Matt has left the room before opening the box fully and pulling the shoes out, not surprised to find a note attached to the laces.
Close enough, I think. Won't be watching, but these should work for tonight. See you back at home in a few days.
Adam smiles and pockets the note, knowing it'll power him through whatever comes tonight. He pulls his phone out once more and texts Max, 'Thank you. Miss you already.'