Danny had never been great at dating.

That much was painfully clear after the absolute disasters that were his first few attempts at moving on.

He had started this whole thing with high hopes. The apps made it look easy—swipe, match, meet up, fall in love, live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, what the apps failed to mention was that you had to wade through a minefield of human disasters first.

And Danny? Danny had stepped on every single one.

Danny had been excited about this one.

Ryan, 24, looked decently attractive in his photos, had a dog (big plus), and seemed normal in their brief texts.

But within five minutes of sitting down at the coffee shop, Danny knew he had made a mistake.

“So, yeah, I just feel like people don’t get the value of NFTs, you know?” Ryan said, leaning forward like he was about to change Danny’s entire worldview.

Danny, halfway through his iced latte, tried not to visibly cringe.

“Oh,” he said, forcing a polite nod. “Cool.”

Ryan grinned. “Yeah, man. Like, this digital space is the future, and people who don’t get in now? They’re gonna regret it later.”

Danny took a very long sip of his drink.

He had no idea how he had gone from swiping right to sitting across from a guy who had apparently devoted his life to cartoon monkey JPEGs.

Ryan kept going. For forty minutes.

Danny spent most of that time contemplating his life choices.

By the time the date ended, Danny was exhausted.

The worst part?

Ryan actually texted him later.

Had the audacity to say: “Had a great time! Let’s do it again?”

Danny politely declined.

Ryan replied with a PDF about investment opportunities.

Danny blocked him.

Danny should have known something was off when his second date, Chris, picked the library as a meeting spot.

But he had figured, hey, maybe he’s an intellectual, that’s kind of hot.

Turns out? Chris was, in fact, a TA.

For Danny’s economics class.

The realization hit mid-date.

Chris was in the middle of explaining supply and demand (which should have been the first red flag), when Danny suddenly froze.

Stared at him.

And then it clicked.

“Wait,” Danny said, eyes narrowing. “You grade my exams.”

Chris blinked. “Oh, shit. You’re Russo.”

Danny groaned. “Oh, my god.”

They both just sat there.

Danny, horrified.

Chris, looking like he was actively regretting his life choices.

The date ended immediately after that.

Danny spent the rest of the semester avoiding eye contact during lectures.

Danny was not sure how this one happened.

One second, he was sitting across from Josh (a cute guy with decent hair), and the next—Josh got up to use the bathroom.

And never came back.

Like, actually vanished.

Danny sat there for twenty minutes before he realized he had been ghosted in real time.

Which, honestly?

Kind of impressive.

Danny left the bar, bought himself a burrito, and decided to never speak of it again.

Jake had never been more entertained in his entire existence.

Danny could see it on his face every time he came home from a date looking like he had just survived a war.

“Alright,” Jake said, grinning from his spot on the couch, “how bad was this one?”

Danny scowled.

Jake laughed. “That bad, huh?”

Danny threw himself onto the couch, groaning dramatically. “You have no idea.”

Jake snorted. “Dude, at this rate, I’m gonna start taking bets on how long each of these lasts.”

Danny turned his head to glare at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Jake just grinned. “What can I say? You’re really bad at dating.”

Danny sighed, closing his eyes. “God, I know.”

Jake nudged his foot. “Seriously, though. You hate dating apps. Why are you even doing this?”

Danny hesitated.

Because I need to move on.
Because I can’t keep doing this to myself.
Because I love you, you absolute moron, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

Instead, he shrugged. “Dunno. Just figured I should try something new.”

Jake frowned just slightly, like he didn’t quite buy it.

But then, after a moment, he just said, “Well. At least it’s entertaining for me.”

Danny groaned, shoving a pillow at his face.

Jake laughed.

The worst part?

Danny was still stupidly in love with him.

Danny was so ready to give up on dating.

Then, just as he was about to delete the apps, he got a text.

Leo: So, how’s your tragic love life going?

Danny snorted.

Leo was objectively the only decent thing to come out of this disaster.

They had been texting for a week now, and somehow, Leo already knew Danny’s entire personality.

Danny: You ever watch a train wreck in slow motion?

Leo: Oof. That bad?

Danny: Let’s just say I have been personally victimized by dating apps.

Leo: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Danny hesitated.

Then, before he could overthink it, he typed:

Danny: Alright, what about you? You got any horror stories?

Leo: Oh, absolutely. I once went on a date with a guy who brought his mom.

Danny: YOU’RE LYING.

Leo: Wish I was.

Danny cackled.

Then—

“Who are you texting?”

Danny jumped.

He looked up to see Jake staring at him, eyes narrowed.

Danny quickly locked his phone. “No one.”

Jake raised an eyebrow.

Danny tried very hard to look casual. “Just… a guy.”

Jake’s expression shifted.

Danny couldn’t read it.

Then, after a beat—“Oh.”

Just ‘oh.’

Danny waited for more.

But Jake just turned back to the TV, expression unreadable.

And Danny?

Danny had no idea what that meant.

But for the first time in a long time…

He kind of wanted to find out.