Jetlag is a bitch. Simple as that. Max is tired, he's restless, he's aching physically and mentally. He'd lost to Ospreay. And not because of something he himself had done, but because of that fool, Daniel Garcia. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead into his fists, struggling just to breathe. He still hasn't found his diamond ring either, which is another thing that aches at him.
His belt, his ring, the few things he has left that are important to him outside of when he gets to go home and be with Adam and Piper. He's trying not to stare at the clock, trying not to overthink everything, while he waits for Dynamite, but god it sucks. Everything just sucks.
He doesn't realize his fingers are tangled in his curls, tugging tightly, until his phone goes off. He exhales shakily and peers over at it. Adam's ringtone echoes around the room until Max gingerly releases his hair and pokes viciously at the phone, answering it. "Hey," he mumbles, now dropping back onto the hotel bed, phone resting on his chest as he stares blandly at the ceiling.
"Hey," Adam's voice echoes out. "How are you?"
Max mulls over his answer. "Not great," he finally mumbles.
Adam pauses for a long moment. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "You're going to be on Dynamite tonight?"
"Yeah. Can you believe I had to go from shithole England to shithole Illinois? I avoided Peoria in the spring but now they have me here in Champaign. What is with these city names?"
Adam chuckles a little. "Maybe they were a little wasted when they named it," he suggests.
"Wouldn't surprise me," Max mumbles, grabbing the phone so he can roll over without losing it. Resting his face against his pillows, he sighs. "How are things in New York?"
"Fine," Adam says. "Good. Just hanging out with Piper, you know how it is."
Max groans into his pillow. "I miss you both," he admits, turning back over onto his side, staring out of the window at the city beyond. "I'll be home tomorrow."
"We miss you too, and we're looking forward to that," Adam says quietly. "It'll be ok, Max."
"I hope so," he mumbles, thinking about All Out. Everything that's gone wrong this past weekend, the things that could wrong in the weekends to come. He's tired. He wants to be in Adam's arms right now, dozing off comfortably. But no, instead he has to search for his ring, try to get some measure of revenge against those who wronged him in Wembley.
But until then, he gets to lay here and listen to Adam talk softly about the past few days, how he spent his time between rehab and gaming. It doesn't fully soothe him, but anything's better than the loneliness and bitterness he'd been blanketed in before.