Page 48 of Mine Again
I scroll.
And scroll.
And scroll.
The messages blur into one testosterone-drenched pickup line after another.
Each more unhinged than the last.
From: CryptoLeo
I’m into girls with trust issues. Keeps things interesting. I like a challenge.
Also, I’m an alpha but like… emotionally literate. Hit me up. Even for a threesome.
Is that supposed to be romantic?
From: MeatSweats420
Love language? Grunting and grilled meat.
Wanna arm wrestle and make out after?
That’s it.
Laptop closed. Sanity preservation mode activated.
I flop back onto the bed, groaning at the ceiling.
So this is modern dating? Perhaps an arranged marriage isn’t so bad after all.
Seriously, forget red flags. This is an entire airshow of crimson warning signs parachuting onto my face.
Andrea from last night is starting to look like a glitch in the matrix. A unicorn in a bullfighting ring.
Before I can second-guess myself, I reopen the laptop. My fingers move with purpose. I scroll up to find his message. It’s easy; it’s the first. Still waiting politely, like the one guy at a party not trying to impress anyone.
I read it again.
Still charming. Still funny. Still normal.
I click his profile.
The photo loads.
Oh, he’s cute.
Not intimidatingly hot. Not Luca or Sebastian levels of “cover-model with brooding smolder straight from a cologne ad”, just… normal. Handsome in a quiet way.
His smile is real. Not the kind that looks like it was rehearsed between sessions at the gym.
And he’s sitting in front of his computer. Maybe crypto ruined his sleep schedule too.
No shirtless gym selfies. No filtered mirror shots. No captions shouting things like“Hustle. Dominate. Grind.”
I scroll through the rest of his profile.
Andrea, 28. Corporate accountant.
