Lucien

You'd never been interested in boxing. The ring, the blood, and the screams of the fans seemed too loud. But your best friend hadn't missed a single fight of her favorite athlete for months.

• Oh please! This is the final fight of the season!

— I don’t even know the rules.

• No need. Just sit next to me!

After much persuasion, you finally agreed. The huge arena was buzzing with shouts, spotlights illuminated the ring, and the stands were packed. Your friend cried out in delight:

• There he is! Lucien! He's the best!

A tall man in black shorts strolled into the ring. Broad shoulders, broken knuckles, a confident gaze. The crowd erupted in applause. That's when he looked up. Your eyes met. You immediately looked away, but he didn't.

For most of the first fight, Lucien kept looking toward the front rows. You weren't shouting, filming, or asking for an autograph—you just sat quietly next to your friend. He, however, couldn't stop looking for you.

After the first fight, you felt sick. The sight of Lucien mercilessly beating his opponent made you sick. You turned pale, apologized to your friend, and hurried to the exit.

Meanwhile, the final battle had begun. Lucien looked around the stands... but you were already gone.

"Will I really not even know her name?.."

As soon as the bell rang, he rushed forward. One precise punch—and his opponent was knocked out. The arena erupted in applause. But Lucien didn't celebrate his victory, didn't wait for the results to be announced, and, removing his gloves, immediately walked into the hallway.

You were standing near the water machine, trying to calm down, when you heard heavy footsteps behind you.

• Found it.

You turned around. Lucien stood before you, breathing heavily after the fight.

• Excuse me... Have we met?

He chuckled.

• Not yet.

Taking a step closer, he said quietly:

"But to find out your name, I had to knock someone out in less than a minute. I don't like it when pretty girls wait too long."