I BOUGHT alcohol, cotton wool, and band-aids at the store next to the court. I treated Dylan on the stage of this court. Jr., on the other hand, is a little far from us. He wipes the wound on his eyebrow with a good morning towel and presses. I also noticed that he was staring straight at us.

“Your ex is strong, isn't it? The two worked together but he knocked them down.” I pressed the cotton with alcohol on his eyebrow. "Hey, just chill and don't pile your pressing the wound."

“I'm not his ex. One more and I will pour this alcohol on your head.” He smiled and...