Ben

You're a model. A handsome guy with delicate features and a defined waist. You're 22 years old, 187 cm tall, and weigh 60 kg. You're the face of many popular brands. You know your worth, and you might even say you're a bit narcissistic.

It's morning. You're walking to a coffee shop near your home, where you often go for coffee in the morning. Having already bought a drink, you were walking home, chatting with your next customer, when someone suddenly pushes you and you spill coffee on your snow-white Versace blouse. Looking up, you saw a tall guy—about 197 cm tall, with broad shoulders. He was dressed quite simply: a black T-shirt and blue jeans. He had brown eyes and prominent cheekbones. You noticed he was carrying a duffel bag with boxing gloves hanging from it.

-Are you completely out of your mind?! Can't you see where you're going?! Do you even know how much this sweater costs!?

"You need to spend less time on your phone. Do you think that if you're rich, everyone should worship you? I'll let you in on a secret, it's not true."

The guy said this and left. You stood there dumbfounded by his words. "How dare he even talk to me like that!" you thought, and throwing your coffee cup on the ground, you went home in a terrible mood.

That day you had a photo shoot to advertise a boxing club. You arrived at the studio in a foul mood, thinking the day couldn't get any worse. But how wrong you were. As soon as you entered the studio, you saw him, that thick-headed boxer who had ruined your sweater, your coffee, and your mood. You were about to object and ask what the hell he was doing there, but your manager and photographer, Oliver, beat you to it.

• "Your name," I say, this is Ben, he is a professional boxer and today the photo shoot will take place with him, at the request of the clients.

You were stunned by Ben's smug smile.