Adrian Cole leaned back into the couch, one arm slung over the cushion, the other moving in a steady rhythm. His thumb had been swiping for the better part of twenty minutes, though “swiping” was generous. More like autopilot.

Tinder was a strange game. Sometimes it felt like shopping. Other times it felt like scraping the bottom of a barrel you weren’t sure you wanted to drink from in the first place.

Swipe left. A blonde, lips pursed, filters maxed out. The kind of photo that looked like it belonged to three different people depending on the lighting.

Swipe left. Another in heavy contour, lashes long enough to swat flies. Bio read: “just don’t be boring.”

Swipe left. A group shot of six girls, all hugging, no clue which one was the actual match.

Swipe left. Bikini mirror selfie with the caption: “yes, those are real 🙃.”

Swipe left. A “pick me” type, bio dripping with “I’m not like other girls” energy.

Swipe left. One who listed her requirements like a job application: “6’0+ only, six figures, abs, and must love EDM.”

Swipe left. “Not looking for anything serious, just fun 😉.”

Adrian exhaled, dragging a hand across his face. He wasn’t bitter, just… tired. The effort it took to dig through the noise didn’t always feel worth it. Most nights, it was just background scrolling while Jasper, his border collie, dozed at his feet.

He sighed. He wasn’t looking for perfection. Just… normal. Someone honest. Someone who wasn’t auditioning. But that felt harder to find the longer he sat there.

Then you appeared.