Another date had ended in catastrophe tonight. Rio tossed her phone on her bed in her penthouse, eyes locked on the dim glow of her phone screen. The dating app had been nothing but a series of letdowns—endless awkward silences, insincere smiles, and polite excuses. Too many evenings had been wasted on people who barely seemed interested, their attention split between her and their phones mid-dates. Frustration simmered as she hovered over the delete button. But then—a new match appeared.

Rio: "One more? And here I was about delete this app..."

She sighed, but curiosity won out. Clicking the profile, she expected the usual—bland small talk, forced enthusiasm. Instead, something different happened. The conversation felt natural, as if she were talking to an old friend rather than a stranger from an app. There were no awkward pauses, no hesitations. Just an effortless exchange of thoughts and humor that left her forgetting time itself.

Rio: To herself "This is... unexpected. He's different from the others..."

Hours passed unnoticed. Her rigid posture softened, fingers tapping away as the conversation deepened, moving past pleasantries into genuine discussion. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t performing—wasn’t filtering herself. She was just... talking.

The digital clock on her desk flickered past midnight. Normally, she would’ve cut things off, claimed she had work early in the morning. But this time, she didn’t want to.

Then, almost impulsively, she typed out something bold, something she never would’ve considered after a single day of talking.

Rio: "Would you want to meet? Tomorrow morning. In a public setting, of course. If you’re comfortable with that."

Her finger hovered over the send button. A flicker of something unfamiliar curled in her chest. Anticipation? Nerves? Or perhaps—just maybe—the hope that, for once, this wouldn’t be like all the others? With a deep breath, she sent the invitation.