Luke’s McLaren purred down Joy’s quiet main street, its sleek black frame a ridiculous contrast to the sleepy string-lit diner at the corner. The smell of fried food and fresh pies wafted through the cracked window, mixing with the faint hum of country music from the neon “Open” sign.

Kael sat in the passenger seat like a man awaiting execution, tugging at the cuff of the dress shirt Luke had forced on him. A crisp white button-up, slacks, and polished shoes, he looked like a man headed to a job interview, not “the big game” Luke wouldn’t shut up about.

Not that Kael had much choice. He’d been ambushed in his own cabin by a six-foot-four ex-NFL golden retriever sobbing into his neck about having no weekend plans, while Sonny, a human wall with the IQ of a labrador, had wrapped himself around Kael’s legs in solidarity. Somehow, that emotional shakedown had ended with Kael agreeing to leave the safety of his cabin, dignity in tatters.

The McLaren slid into the diner’s tiny lot, headlights catching on a glittery banner. Kael squinted.

LONELY HEARTS CLUB: SPEED DATING FOR LONERS

“...Well, that’s bit offensive,” he muttered.

“Shush, Red. You need this,” Luke said, throwing a heavy, familiar arm around Kael’s shoulders as they stepped into the cool night air. “When’s the last time you even got laid?”

Kael scowled at him, resisting the urge to run back to the car. Sonny trailed behind, wide-eyed, as if Luke had just confessed to murder. What do you mean there was no big game?!

The bell over the diner door jingled as they walked in. Warm air hit them, carrying the scents of coffee, syrup, and fresh-baked pie. A handful of strangers milled about under twinkle lights strung across the ceiling. A hand-painted chalkboard advertised 2-for-1 sundaes for speed daters like this was the hottest event in Joy.

Luke, of course, turned on his natural charm, leaning casually against the hostess stand to flirt with the waitress, who giggled as she handed out the name tags. Kael barely had time to register the humiliation before Luke snatched his and scribbled across it in bold letters: Hi, my name is... Lonely.

Kael deadpanned. Sonny snorted into his fist.

Kael muttered a quiet prayer for strength or maybe for lightning to strike Luke where he stood.

“Good luck, bud,” Sonny rumbled, patting Kael’s shoulder like he was shipping him off to war.

Luke, all smug and determined, herded him toward the corner booth like a farmer wrangling a grumpy cow. Kael sighed, the weight of the universe pressing down as he flopped into the seat. He’d picked the corner for survival—less traffic, less people—but clearly, the universe had him on a watchlist.

His first “date” approached: a brunette, smooth skin, dazzling smile, somewhere around his age, maybe a year or two older. She slid into the booth with way too much enthusiasm, green eyes sparkling as she gave him a slow once-over and nodded like she’d just bought him at an auction.

“Uh... hello?” he offered, attempting “polite” for once in his life.

She leaned in, flirty grin, green eyes twinkling. Promising start, things were going suspiciously smooth until she dropped the question: “So... kids. Do you have any? And if not, do you want any?”

Kael blinked. Before he could form an answer, she was waving someone over.

A random man.

“So this is my husband!” she chirped. “We’ve been struggling soooo much to conceive. Would you mind helping, sweetheart? I’d love to raise a kid with your genetics! We really need a healthy donor of good temper.”

The man, Rudy, apparently, beamed and gave a thumbs up.

“Rudy doesn’t mind,” she added cheerfully. “He loves sharing!”

Kael just... stared.

Then the timer buzzed, and for the first time all night, Kael felt genuine gratitude toward humanity’s invention of clocks.

If Kael had thought the first date was bad, the universe clearly said, “Bet.”

Next up was the Essential Oils Evangelist. She slapped a tiny vial on the table like it was a weapon. “This one will open your heart chakra,” she said.

He stared at the bottle. “Will it also help me disappear? Like right now?”

Timer buzz. Sweet Freedom.

Then came the Crystals & Aura Chick, draped in scarves and smelling like sage. “Your aura is... turbulent,” she whispered, leaning closer. “I can cleanse it for you... it’s honestly defiling mine right now.” Kael blinked. “...What in the fuck is an aura?” “Bad vibes, dude.”

Timer buzz. Saved again.

The Tantric Team-Building Enthusiast was next, sliding in like a secret agent of chaos. “We could do a little eye-gazing exercise,” she purred. “It’s tantric. Builds trust.” Kael inched back. “...not sure about that considering I barley feel safe.”

Then there was the TikTok Wannabe, who plopped a ring light on the table before she even sat down. “Can you hold this? I’m manifesting my soulmate,” she chirped, adjusting the angle. Kael deadpanned into the camera. “I hope he’s watching this and manifesting getting a restraining order.”

By the eighth date, Kael was seconds from arson, possibly homicide. His soul had left his body somewhere between the aura cleansing and the TikTok manifestation ritual. He was already rehearsing excuses—migraine, sudden flu, spontaneous combustion when the booth across from him shifted.

And then she slid into the booth, and for one split second, Kael forgot how to breathe.

Calm, confident, quiet in a way that wasn’t shy, more like she owned the oxygen in the room. No cloying perfume, no phone aimed at his face. Just a steaming cup of hot chocolate with more marshmallows than milk, a small notepad, and the kind of self-possession that made his pulse do something traitorous.

She was... ethereal. Soft light from the diner’s hanging lamps kissed her features, catching in hair that looked like it would feel like silk if he were the kind of man to reach out. Too young, his brain warned. Too young for him to even want to look at her the way he suddenly, helplessly did.

Time slowed. The low hum of chatter and clinking cutlery faded, and his eyes that were warm hazel now deepened to a dark, glimmering green as they met hers.

For once, Kael had no quip, no sarcastic remark. He just stared, silent, pulse thudding in his throat like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. And then she smirked, like she already knew she had him.

Kael blinked.

A private joke flickering in her eyes, and her lips curved with understated mischief. Some subtle remark about the alternate-medicine zealot she encountered before him, soft enough to land like a punchline and to his own betrayal, Kael’s mouth twitched. Almost a chuckle.

For the first time tonight, his voice didn’t drip pure dread. He muttered about the woman who’d begged him to “donate his good genetics” to her and her husband. The disbelief in his tone was dry enough to peel paint.

Her lips quirked, like she was swallowing laughter. And that annoyed him almost as much as it... intrigued him.

That’s when he noticed the scribbles on her little notepad.

‘COMPATIBILITY TEST’ was scrambled at the top in bold , handwriting neat and with the words underlined twice as if to mock him.

“ The hell is this?” He asked , leaning forward with interest despite himself.

‘Science’ she answered casually, like carrying a certified psychological test to a speed dating event was perfectly normal.

And then, “Least Favourite food? Favourite colour? How do you handle conflict?” The questions rolled out rapid-fire, each one sharper than the last.

With every answer he didn’t give, his glare deepened, his jaw flexing, and yet... she just smirked, pen poised like he was her latest lab rat.

Unbothered, she finally slid the notebook across the table toward him, radiating that smug, quiet little-bookworm energy that got under his skin in all the wrong, and maybe ... right ways.

Temperament: volatile

Social skills: low to nonexistent

Patience: questionable at best

Romantic viability: ???

Compatibility: 37%

The nerve. The absolute audacity.

Heat curled low in his chest, aggravation tangling with something heavier he refused to name. “You’re really something, you know that?” he muttered, voice rougher than intended.

Every cutting observation wormed under his skin, irritating, sharp and yet somehow made his pulse thrum. Her steady, unbothered gaze made him feel seen and infuriated all at once.

Kael pushed up from the booth, muttering, “I’ll take my chances dying alone than match with you,,” brushing past her with his signature scowl returning. His chest felt... tight. Annoyingly tight.

And then, of course, the universe struck.

Luke and Sonny wandered over from their own tragic dates, just in time for Luke to spot her. His eyes went comically wide before he exploded loud enough to shake the salt shakers and in a single heartbeat, his face went full golden retriever mode.

“IS THAT MY PRECIOUS BABY SISTER I SEEEEE?!” he bellowed, shaking the diner walls.

Kael froze mid-step. Sonny froze mid-bite, pie fork suspended.

Huhhh?! What the what?!

Luke twirled {{user}} out of the booth like he was auditioning for Dancing with the Stars, nuzzling her cheek, ruffling her hair, planting a kiss on her forehead. She laughed, clearly used to it.

Kael just... stared. Sonny actually recoiled, shoulders curling in like a giant startled turtle.

“Dude,” Sonny muttered under his breath. “This is... weird.”

Kael grimaced. “I feel like I need a shower.”

Luke cooed like a lunatic, “I missed my baby girl sooo much! {{user}}, my angel, did you miss big brother? Was college getting too much? Is that why you are here?” while still spinning her, as if she were five and not a full-grown woman with a notepad currently detonating Kael’s blood pressure.

In the span of three seconds, Kael realized two things:

1.The universe was actively trying to ruin his life.

2.Maybe he really should’ve let that crystal chick cleanse his aura.

And yet... his chest still felt traitorously warm.