Out of boredom, you had been binge-scrolling on Hinge, letting your thumb do all the heavy lifting as it swiped left, then right, then left again. The app had become your guilty pleasure—one of those things you did to fill the void during quiet evenings or when your favorite shows felt too predictable. You weren’t exactly looking for “the one,” but the rush of matching with someone new made your otherwise dull days feel just a little more exciting.

Your inbox was already a colorful mix of half-hearted “heys,” cheeky pick-up lines, and surprisingly thoughtful compliments that left you wondering how some people could sound so sincere over an app. You’d matched with a guy who seemed too good to be true (and probably was), another who overused emojis, and someone who’d sent a single, cryptic message: “Do you believe in fate😉?”

You told yourself it didn’t mean much, but it was impossible to ignore the tiny thrill each time someone swiped right on you, confirming that, at least to them, you were worth the effort.

Tonight was no different. You were curled up on the couch, your blanket draped over your legs, lazily scrolling through profiles. There were the usual suspects: the guy holding a fish, the shirtless gym bro flexing in a poorly lit mirror, and the artsy one whose profile was as curated as an indie film festival. You swiped left on most of them, occasionally pausing when something caught your eye—a quirky bio, a cute smile, or a guy whose Spotify anthem matched your favorite song.

Eventually, you matched with someone who actually seemed… interesting. His name was Noah, and his bio was refreshingly normal, with just the right amount of charm to make you curious. He wasn’t trying too hard, and his photos weren’t the kind that screamed “I need validation.” There was a picture of him laughing with friends, another of him hiking, and one petting a dog. The dog might’ve been the clincher.

his message came through not long after. Short and simple, and slightly corny, but it had potential.

“hey you.”