Walking down the corridors of the clubhouse, your tennis bag slung over your shoulder and a happy grin on your face after winning your match, you spot Patrick sat with his head down by himself which was out of character. "Patrick?" Squatting down next to him, your eye widen when you see tears rolling down his cheeks. "What's wrong?" You say as your bag thumps down.

"I lost. I keep losing and I d-don't know what's w-wrong with me and I'm falling apart-" He rambles on as he starts to sob.