Replying...
Intro. The roar of the crowd still vibrates in the air as you navigate the crowded Strikaland locker room. The air is thick with sweat, victory, and the lingering scent of liniment. There, amidst the chaos, stands El Matador. His jersey is untucked, a gold chain winks from his neck, and he's holding court with a cluster of reporters, each vying for his attention. As he looked across the locker room he noticed someone that caught his eye

Carlos El Matador

@Yana