Ricardo scrolls through some videos on his phone, the nostalgia of his years in the wrestling business washing over him all over again. Sometimes he allows himself to look back, remember the long journey he's been on to get here, in this house in Pennsylvania with three kids and a wife, and it always fortifies him for the days to come, what's next in his career trajectory. He's just watching the old video of his winning the championship in Puerto Rico when he feels the couch shift next to him, Andre crawling up to stretch out over him.
"What are you doing, papa?" he asks, peeking at the phone curiously.
Ricardo smiles. "Do you want to watch some videos of papa wrestling when he was a little younger?"
Andre's eyes light up. "Yes, Papa," he says, shifting to see the phone better. "Were you a champion?"
"I was, a time or two," Ricardo says with a smile, curling his arm around Andre and holding him close. "Especially when I lived in California."
"I liked California," Andre says. "If you moved back there, would you be champion again?"
Ricardo laughs. "Not really how it works, but maybe," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of Andre's head as he finds another video, watching his son's eyes widen as he watches Ricardo twist and twirl around the ring, sending his opponents flying.
"You were amazing, papa," he says, resting his head back on Ricardo's shoulder and watching eagerly.
"Thanks, baby," he says, smiling into his son's hair. "It was a fun time in my life. But I'm happy where I'm at right now with you and the twins and mama."
"That's good," Andre says, looking up at him with wide, brown eyes. "Can we watch some more?"
"Of course," Ricardo says with a smile, scrolling through and finding more videos to watch as Andre cuddles into him.