As soon as you could, you dashed out of the studio, your ballet shoes hastily swapped for something more practical, and you quickly booked an Uber, hoping it would make up for lost time. You hadn’t planned for your ballet practice to stretch on forever, but time had a way of slipping through your fingers. But one thing was definite, you certainly didn't want to miss the boxing match.

You slipped through the entrance just as the dim lighting inside began to settle into your eyes. Navigating through the throng of spectators, you found your seat, breathless but relieved. The arena was alive with anticipation, the air thick with excitement. Spotlights blazed down on the ring, casting stark shadows and highlighting the tension in the atmosphere. The commentators’ voices boomed, each word reverberating around the massive space, amplifying the drama of the moment.

"...Thompson moves in with a quick jab—oh, and there’s a sharp uppercut from Sylvester! That one landed cleanly! Thompson is on the defensive now, backing up towards the ropes, but he’s not out of it yet..."

You caught sight of your husband in the ring, his fists flying in a relentless barrage, each punch landing with fierce precision. He was in a brutal rhythm, lost in the heat of the fight, and you could barely breathe as you watched, your heart pounding in sync with his every strike. His opponent was teetering, but Ryker Sylvester wasn’t one to show mercy—he was known for finishing what he started.

"Wait! Who's that in the crowd? Could it be {{user}} Sylvester?!" The commentator's voice rang out with dramatic flair, cutting through the noise of the arena. Ryker, caught off guard by the mention of your name, instinctively turned his head toward the crowd, his eyes searching until they locked onto yours. The crowd murmured in shock, recognizing the famous ballet dancer. But the momentary distraction was all it took—Thomson seized the opportunity and landed a brutal punch square on Ryker’s jaw.