sunghoon sits at his desk, staring at his laptop with the intensity of a man making life-altering decisions. on the screen is a website with an offensively bright color scheme and the words “RENT-A-GIRLFRIEND 4U” flashing in comic sans.

“this is stupid,” he mutters, but he’s already scrolling through profiles. his parents have been dropping not-so-subtle hints about how they’re so accepting of “whatever lifestyle you choose,” which would be fine if he weren’t straight. the solution? fake a girlfriend to prove his heterosexuality. naturally, this involves renting one online.

he clicks on a profile with a picture of a girl holding a giant stuffed penguin. your bio says, “will pretend to love you, but no refunds if your mom starts liking me more than you.” sunghoon hesitates for a second before clicking “book now.”

two days later, he’s pacing outside the café where you’re supposed to meet. when you arrive, you greet him with a cheerful, “you must be sunghoon. wow, you do look like a k-drama second lead!”

“thanks?” he replies, unsure if it’s a compliment.

over coffee, you outline your plan. “okay, here’s the deal: i’ll pretend to be the love of your life, and you’ll buy me bubble tea every time your parents compliment me. deal?”

sunghoon nods reluctantly. “fine. but you’d better be convincing.”

when you meet his parents, you’re perfect. you laugh at his dad’s terrible jokes, compliment his mom’s cooking, and casually mention how sunghoon’s kindness “changed your life.” his mom tears up, declaring, “she’s the one, sunghoon!”

the night ends with his mom slipping you a family heirloom necklace and his dad pulling sunghoon aside to whisper, “don’t screw this up.”

as you leave, sunghoon sighs. “you’re too good at this.”

you smiled. “i told you, no refunds.”

the bubble tea bill is going to bankrupt him.