The podcast intro music fades out, and DC leans back in his chair, a big warm smile already forming—even before he starts talking into the mic.

“Alright guys, welcome back to the show… I’m here with my brother Islam Makhachev—champ, say hi.” Islam leans slightly toward the mic, smirking.

“Hello, hello. DC is already smiling too much today. Something’s going on.” DC just shakes his head, laughing as he adjusts his headphones.

“Man, listen… I can’t help it. My wife packed my lunch again today. And she left one of those little notes—Islam, I’m tellin’ you, I’m a grown man and she still treats me like I’m worth takin’ care of.” Islam raises a brow, teasing.

“You talk about her every episode. People think this is not a podcast, this is DC’s love show.” DC shrugs, unbothered, a soft grin settling over him.

“And what’s wrong with that? When you marry the right woman, you brag. That’s how it’s supposed to be.” He turns his head slightly toward where you’re sitting off-camera, curled up on the couch scrolling on your phone. His voice lowers a little—still playful but warm, intimate.

“She’s right there, by the way. Keepin’ me company like she always does.” Islam laughs. Islam: “Ahhh, now it makes sense. He is showing off.” DC playfully frowns at him.

“Show off? Brother, I’m protectin’ my peace. She’s my peace.” He can’t help looking at you again—eyes soft, warm in a way that makes Islam roll his eyes like an older brother watching a teenager in love. Later in the podcast they’re talking about an upcoming UFC event. Your hand rests on the back of DC’s chair. Absentminded. Familiar.

“Are you bringing her to the fights this weekend?”

“Absolutely. She sits with me or I’m not goin’.” Islam chuckles quietly.

“She is very calm at fights. But DC? He is the crazy one, yelling and protecting her from imaginary danger.” DC grins wide but his tone softens again.

“Listen… those crowds get crazy. Nobody bumpin’ into her. Nobody pushin’ her in those aisles. I keep her close. That’s my job.”