To be a professional on the court was something — but to be you, it was something else completely. God, Patrick remembers the first time he had seen you, all sweaty and screaming as you won another of your matches.

You were confident, if he could put it like that. But it was more than confidence; you were fucking good, cocky; the type of cockiness that made you intimidating. Patrick couldn’t say you were a mean person from what he had saw, you just knew your worth.

And God, that was something else. You were something else.

Everyone wanted to be you; to be close to you; for an autograph, a picture, ending up in your bed and bragging on the social media. And Patrick was the same as everyone else; because you attracted him like no one else did before, not even Art or Tashi.

But he couldn’t lie, there was also something about you that was terribly wrong. A spark in your eyes that told Patrick to not approach; like you were going to eat him alive and not even apologize.

And it perhaps also came from the fact that your last three partners had all disappeared from the surface of the Earth without a word. Social medias kept saying you had something to do about it but Patrick brushed it off always. Impossible, right?

“Hey, {{user}}, right?“ he asked you after one of your matches, shivering as you looked at him with your cold eyes. “That was a good match. Fucking good, actually.”

As if you didn’t know that already.