The ultimate victor will be the one with the most control of the key factors: himself, the opponent, the environment, and of course, lady luck.

It's hard for your show to get a standing ovation when your girlfriend has to carry you off the stage at intermission. It was already good that no one asked for refunds. Even so, Joey was embarrassed.

Not long after his hand against Andy, he was flattened by exhaustion, almost passing out during the game. Ellie ran over, helping him stagger from the table to a chair against the wall where he fell asleep on contact.

After an unknown length of time, Joey woke up from his nap. He reflected on what happened, realizing he had underestimated the drain that playing in tougher games would have on his mental endurance. It was clear now that competing against tougher opponents, thinking at a higher level, and being in unfamiliar situations sapped his energy at a much faster rate.

In retrospect, it was reasonable. Every hand in the 5-10 game took many times the effort of a hand in 2-5. Joey also had to spend more energy collecting information on the unknown players and analyzing the dynamics of the game. It was far from easy.

'All in all, I suppose it went okay.' Joey looked to his side and found Ellie with her head on his shoulder. She was also waking up, having fallen asleep to keep him company perhaps. She let out tiny yawns and rubbed her eyes like an adorable cat.

"Thanks for taking care of me," he said.

"Mmm. It's nothing. I just used you as a pillow," she said.

"Was it comfortable? I make an even better blanket."

Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn't avoid blushing.

The two cashed out, leaving the poker room to begin a romantic walk, enjoying each other's presence during this quiet, serene night.

"I'ma kill you Jay! Stop runnin'! Get im' Spike! Get im'!"

It was serene…until a chase ensued between two random people and a pit bull at the other end of the block.

Joey almost forgot how bad this neighborhood was. Their pace increased as they headed toward Ellie's apartment, a short distance from Pocket Rockets. During the past month, Joey developed the habit of walking Ellie home after they played, so he wasn't a stranger to the route.

"Will you join my mother and I for Christmas dinner?" Joey asked.

"Of course." Ellie was looking forward to meeting Joey's mother. She had heard many good things about her, but above all, she missed the feeling of family.

"Are you sure you won't call them?" Joey questioned.

Ellie's footsteps halted. Joey knew this was a sensitive topic, but it's because it was so sensitive that he had to be the one to bring it up.

Over the past month, Ellie had already filled Joey in on the details of her background. Her parents were very strict. Since she was a child, they planned to develop her into a violin prodigy. At first, Ellie enjoyed being a musician. It was only when she was old enough to realize that she had no friends, no hobbies, no life...that she understood the cost—desperate loneliness.

By then, it was too late for her to stop. Her parents had invested significant time and money into nurturing her ability. Many people were depending on her. She saw no way out. One day in her senior year of high school, her father told her he had the best news for her. When he revealed it, no other message could have made her more miserable.

A top music university had accepted her into its program. It would become the gateway to her career. During her four years of university, she would have access to top professors, and connections to the highest networks in classical music. Her parents were so proud because the goal they had striven towards over so many years was finally within reach. The perfect result.

It was then…the day that Ellie ran away.

She had been depressed for so long, but never mustered the courage to share her genuine feelings with her family. She didn't believe her frigid father would understand. Instead, he would've found some way to manipulate her into following his wishes, like he did with his business rivals. She felt that if she stayed under his thumb, attending that university, and diving deeper into music, she would never know the taste of happiness.

A caged canary sings the most beautiful songs. Yet, while the audience worships its melodies, they will never comprehend its lyrics—desolate cries for freedom.

On the day of her father's announcement, the dam burst inside of her, releasing a flood of urgency. She packed her things, took the money she saved from teaching music lessons, and walked out of her house without looking back. No goodbyes, she wouldn't have stood a chance.

Ellie didn't have a plan, but she wanted to escape as far away as possible, so her destination became New York. Not knowing what else to do, she called her only friend Amy. Things unfolded from there.

By a stroke of luck, she found another talent in poker, one that allowed her to get by even in this expensive city. She didn't love playing cards, but she enjoyed it. Most important of all, there was no one forcing her to do it. Unlike music, playing poker didn't feel like someone was tattooing their favorite poetry on her soul.

Joey was dumbstruck when he heard the story. It was the first time he fathomed that someone's dream could be another person's nightmare.

"Talking to them might make you feel better," Joey said.

After a long pause, Ellie responded, "I…can't."

Joey wore a helpless smirk and shook his head before putting his arm around her. "It doesn't matter."

He thought Ellie might regret her silence someday. In spite of everything, a canary's nature will always be to sing, but he wouldn't push if she wasn't ready.

More than anyone, he knew the value of family. His mother's love for him was as deep as an ocean. His father's…as deep as an ashtray, but that only made him better appreciate how important a father figure was. If he had one, he wouldn't have been broken for so long. He wouldn't be broken now.

They arrived at Ellie's building as she inserted her keys into the lock. It was an old brown walk up, nothing fancy, but since she came to New York, it had been the roof over her head and the warmth in her heart—the two things most lacking to a runaway orphan.

Joey had been here before. On every occasion, he tried to get alone time with Ellie so they could play "heads up." It was natural, since he was a man and she was a beauty, but there was an obstacle when entering this labyrinth…the Minotaur.

As Ellie opened the lock to her apartment and entered, Joey put his back against the wall, listening for any signs of the beast. He prepared to escape at the first hint of danger. With great hesitation, he tiptoed into the apartment, peeking around the occasional corner, putting his ears to doors. After a long time, Joey loosened up and released a sigh of relief. Just when he thought he was safe…

*Whiz*

'No...' A rope tightened around his ankle, pulling it upwards and flipping him until he hung upside down from the ceiling. Captured, he swayed there, helpless, as footsteps approached from the darkness.

*Tap* *Tap*

"…The Minotaur." Joey's face lost all color as he struggled to free himself.

The savage creature stepped out of its den—the bathroom of death. Joey could swear he saw human bones in the shadowy corners.

The monster exposed its appearance to its next meal. It was the most frightening visage: curlers, a pink bathrobe, and a face smeared in green goo that Joey feared was made from the entrails of human adventurers.

It was Amy, Ellie's roommate.

"An intruder. Have you come hunting for treasure again, Dr. Indiana Jones?"

'…I invited him though,' Ellie thought.

A similar scene occurred on every occasion when Joey entered Ellie's apartment. For some reason, Amy would never permit him any alone time with Ellie no matter what anyone said. There was nothing he could do against this mythical Minotaur. As the monster approached, Joey wore the most pitiful look he could summon, hoping it would gain him the slightest mercy.

He would be disappointed. There was no mercy to be found in that beast's eyes, only bloodthirst and the greatest hatred…for this world, and for Harrison Ford.

The ravaging began.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. If you like it, add to library!