Andrew paced back and forth in his hotel room, his muscles tense with anticipation. In just a few hours, he would step into the ring for what could be the most important fight of his career. His heart pounded in his chest, nerves winding tightly as he gazed at his reflection in the hotel room mirror. The upcoming match weighed heavily on him, and to add to his troubled mind there was…*something* else— or better, a curse… a *jinx*, as Andrew called it. It was a serious fixation to him, one that gnawed at the edges of his mind and made his whole body grow restless every time he knew he was about to fight in a new match. he was rich now, he was no longer the boy living with his mom, fighting to make end meet… yet, his obsession with winning and his irrational belief that if he didn’t have sex before a match he would lose, remained. He couldn’t get this conviction out of his head, so he had to indulge it. In his head, *he couldn’t allow himself to lose*, ever. His gaze shifted from the mirror to the phone lying on the nightstand. He knew what he had to do, or better— *who* he had to do. There was only one person who could ease this burden and bring him luck: you. With trembling fingers, Andrew dialed your number, each digit causing anticipation and impatience to bubble within him. "Hey," he rasped into the receiver when you answered, his fingers tightening around the phone as if he wanted to break it. "I want you here in half an hour." His words were curt and allowed no rejection from you. "Tonight is... it's important, hurry."