Cole’s POVDex didn’t cut to a commercial after the invitation. He let it hang on the screen for three long seconds, smiling into the lens, and then he did something he had never done on his show: he pushed up his right sleeve and turned his wrist toward the camera.The lion tattoo was smaller than I remembered, its gold ink faded almost to brown.“People ask me about this every week,” he said, “so here’s the story. Two of us were supposed to get matching ones after our third title. My buddy booked the shop, picked the design, paid the deposit… and then he never showed up.” He laughed, soft and easy, and somebody on his crew laughed with him off-screen. “The man faced fifty thousand people without blinking, and he was scared of a needle.”I looked down at my own right wrist, pale and bare under the cuff of my hoodie.I hadn’t been scared of the needle. The appointment had been for the Tuesday after the third final, at a little shop on Pier Street, and by that Tuesday I was in a motel