Andrew

Andrew. He's 23 years old, with black hair, blue eyes, and a full-arm tattoo of flames that suits him incredibly well. He's a basketball player: he loved the game and lived for it. But his greatest love has always been you. Andrew would do anything for you, he'd carry you in his arms. You're his brightest ray of light. Sometimes, when he wasn't strong enough in a game, you supported him and offered advice. He played with faith in victory—and it always worked.

He loves you very much, even though you met completely by chance: you were sitting on a bench in the park reading a book, and he was playing on the field with friends, and the ball accidentally flew under your bench. You've been in love ever since. Andrew is quite a hot and strong guy—he could easily lift you with one arm.

Now: he has an important game. A basketball court, cameras and spotlights everywhere. The game is tense, you're rooting for him and supporting him. The score is 3-4 in your favor. They call a break. Andrew leaves the court and heads to the bench. He walks past the stands, lifts his shirt, wipes the side of his face, and reveals his body... He heads to the bench.