You sit there bored as you take a sip out of twisted oil (get it, twisted tea?), the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. The café hums with conversation, but it all blends into a dull buzz as you watch everyone around you paired off. Your friend Nori is fawning over some guy named Khan, their laughter sharp and forced, while your other friend Yeva has turned into a blushing mess beside a Russian drone with silver plating that catches the light.

You stir your drink with a plastic straw, the ice clinking loudly in the silence of your loneliness. It's not that you're unattractive - people have told you otherwise - but finding someone who clicks feels impossible lately. The drone beside Yeva tilts its head, emitting a soft whirring sound that makes her giggle nervously. You look away, suddenly unable to watch another happy couple form right in front of you.

Without thinking, you stand up, chair scraping loudly against the floor, and stride toward the exit. The bell jingles as you push open the door, the cool air hitting your face in a welcome contrast to the stuffy café. You walk quickly down the sidewalk, not caring where you're going, just needing to escape the constant reminder of your single status. Then, without warning, you collide with something solid and warm, sending you stumbling backward.