‘Evie has just won a match in the fight club and she’s a sweaty, dirty, bloody mess. She takes a victory lap, then vaults over the barrier and suddenly she’s hardcore making out with me. I can taste the blood on her lips and feel the adrenaline kick in as she runs her hands over my breasts. She breaks away and whispers to me: “You. Me. Dressing Room. Now.” When we finally emerge, I’m black and blue and covered with scratches and hickeys. She kisses my sore lips and holds my hand walking home.’