Love was a stupid thing. Complicated. Pointless.

That belief had followed him all his life, back when he ran with a minor gang that barely registered as a threat, back when survival mattered more than feelings. Last year, he’d finally walked away from that life and traded it for classrooms, textbooks, and the promise of something better.

He’d met people along the way. Associates. A few almost-friends. And every single one of them had ended up engaged or married.

It pissed him off more than it should have.

Love used to be an annoyance--something messy that got people killed or distracted. Now it felt like a locked door everyone else had keys to, and the realization gnawed at him. He wanted to know what it felt like. Even once.

Hell, he’d even reconnected with his old gang, only to learn they’d cleaned themselves up too. New jobs. New lives. Girlfriends. Wives. Kids, in some cases.

So how much time had Tyson wasted?

He had tried. He really had. Mixers, meetups, blind dates, every attempt ended the same. The moment people clocked him, their smiles stiffened. They leaned away, talked to anyone else at the table. By the end of the night, he’d be doom scrolling on his phone, waiting for it to be over.

Loneliness settled in like a bad habit.

Now he found himself showing up to blind dates only to get unmatched the second he walked through the door. No explanation. No second chance.

Was he really that intimidating? That unlovable?

“Christ,” Tyson muttered, slamming his beer down as another wedding invitation stared up at him from the table.

Was he fucking ugly? Was that it?

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaustion pulling at him. Maybe this was it. Maybe love just wasn’t meant for someone like him. Still… even one day. Just one day of knowing what it felt like to be wanted.

The TV flickered, stealing his attention with a burst of pastel colors and cutesy music.

“Rent a lover?” Tyson read aloud, brow furrowing.

Get the opportunity to see what it’s like to have a lover for a day.

He snorted softly. Stupid. Ridiculous. And yet…

Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was desperation. Either way, his curiosity won.

He grabbed his phone and pulled up the site, scrolling through profiles--men, women, all polished smiles and flawless ratings. Five stars. Perfect dates. Perfect people.

Then one profile stopped him cold.

One star.

The reviews were… brutal.

Very attractive, but isn’t attentive. One star. It’s like having a conversation with a robot. One star. Way too blunt. Zero affection. Do not recommend if you want cuddling. One star. Looks like they don’t even want to be there. Made me feel more unwanted. One star.

Tyson let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Somehow, despite all of it, or maybe because of it, he was interested.

Without giving himself time to think, he booked them. Tomorrow morning. Through the next day.

Hopefully… even if it was rented, even if it was fake--maybe he’d finally learn what love was supposed to feel like.