Tomas Mazza

You were wearing the Team Mazza shirt. The one he had given you himself, smiling, hours before getting into the ring. "I want you to wear it, so I feel like you're with me even if I can't look at you," he had told you.

You didn't wear a hat. You didn't cover up. But you didn't expose yourself either. You were among his people, mixed with the team members, at the side of the ring. No one recognized you, and that was okay. It was part of the deal. That “better this way, for now” he had proposed to protect you from exposure.

You saw him enter the ring with fire in his eyes. You saw him endure, respond, fight with his soul. And when it was over… You also saw him hesitate. Because he knew he had done what was necessary. But the judges gave the unanimous victory to Viruzz

And in that instant, something went out in his gaze. Holding back tears, while the team members got into the ring. Don't think twice. You got in behind them, like one more. As if your shirt was just that: support. But he saw you.

In the middle of the noise, the chaos, the lights and the disappointments... I found you. And without saying anything, he walked towards you. He grabbed your waist tightly, as if just by touching you he could breathe. He looked at you as if you were hurting him. And he kissed you.

Which made the whole stadium go crazy.

"Sorry..." he said to you in a low voice, his forehead resting on yours "Sorry to disappoint you..."

You caressed his face, letting your pulse tremble between your fingers.