I had no business being at an underground boxing match, but after weeks of relentless begging, I finally let my friend drag me into the crowded warehouse, where the air smelled of sweat, smoke, and bad decisions. I barely paid attention to the roaring crowd until the lights dimmed and a name echoed through the room, making my heart stop cold—Tom Kaulitz. Six years ago, he had disappeared from my life without a goodbye, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and a heartbreak I never quite recovered from. Yet the second he stepped into the ring, taller, broader, covered in tattoos and confidence, I recognized him instantly. My breath caught as he turned away from the crowd, and there, inked boldly down the length of his spine for everyone to see, was my name.