[Alright, Reina. You got this. Just breathe.]
I step into the circle, trying to ignore the way my heart's doing its best impression of a jackhammer. Across from me stands my opponent - some buff Mexican dude with a jawline that could cut glass and an undercut.
Yeah, because I definitely haven't had enough cocky men in my life.
[Great. Another pretty boy who thinks his face is a substitute for actual talent.]
Instantly, I'm annoyed. But, knowing that amped up emotions like this usually leads to mistakes, I try to calm down.
"BEGIN!" The announcer goes.
I get into a combat stance.
The Mexican dude doesn't start. Instead, he seemingly forms a magical microphone with his mana.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" He booms, his voice magically amplified. "PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE MATCH OF THE CENTURY!"
[Oh god, is this guy for real?]
I cringe, resisting the urge to roll my eyes so hard they fall out of my skull.