Chapter 32: The Matchmaker ltdown
Ethan’s live matchmaking event was already teetering between ridiculous and downright unbearable. The ballroom sparkled with excessive glitz: gold strears dangled from the ceiling, heart-shaped confetti littered the floor, and a giant neon sign that read "Where Love ets Data!" blinked obnoxiously in the corner.
It was like a corporate Valentine’s Day threw up everywhere.
Ava was nursing a diocre glass of white wine by the bar, eyeing the velvet-draped stage where Ethan was basking under a spotlight. His perfectly coiffed hair glistened like it had been shellacked with success, and he wore a grin so smug it could power a solar panel.
"I already hate this," she muttered, picking at a mini quiche from her plate.
Ryan, leaning lazily against the bar beside her, swirled his whiskey. "I an, you knew it’d be insufferable. It’s Ethan. He probably sends himself Valentine’s cards."
Ava snorted despite herself. "Why are you even here?"
Ryan took a sip, shrugging. "Morbid curiosity. And i said there’d be free food."
"Great. I’m glad my misery cos with free hors d’oeuvres for you."
Before Ryan could fire back, Ethan’s voice bood over the speakers, slick and syrupy.
"Ladies and gentlen," he began, spreading his arms like a self-satisfied prophet, "tonight, we witness the unparalleled power of Cupid’s Algorithm! And to prove its brilliance, I’ve prepared sothing very special."
Ava’s stomach clenched. "Why do I feel like we’re about to be part of sothing horrifying?"
Ryan grinned, popping a canapé into his mouth. "Because we are."
"And now," Ethan said, pausing dramatically, "let
introduce our volunteers! Please welco Ava Lee and Ryan Kim to the stage!"
The room erupted into applause and cheers. Ava’s eyes widened in horror. "Oh, absolutely not."
Ryan, clearly enjoying her discomfort, grabbed her arm. "Co on, Cupid. Let’s give the people what they want."
"No! Ryan—!" But it was too late. Ryan, clearly thriving in chaos, was already dragging her to the stage.
---
As they climbed the steps, Ava whispered furiously, "This is your fault. You’re the one who dragged
up here."
"You’re welco," Ryan said, flashing a smirk. "This is going to be great."
"For you, maybe," Ava shot back. "I have a reputation to maintain!"
Ethan handed them clipboards with grins that scread evil mastermind. The giant screen behind them lit up with an animated heart graphic, followed by the words "Compatibility Quiz!"
"Don’t worry," Ethan said, his voice practically oozing condescension. "This is just for fun."
Ava glared at him. "Define ’fun.’"
The first question flashed onscreen: What’s your ideal Saturday? Ava quickly scribbled down her answer: reading in a cozy café. Ryan, however, answered, "Sleeping in and annoying Ava."
"You’re not even trying," she hissed, elbowing him.
"Hey," Ryan said, grinning, "I’m being honest."
The questions kept coming, and so did the banter.
---
Question 3: What’s your favorite comfort food?
Ava: Sushi.
Ryan: Fried anything.
Ava wrinkled her nose. "Fried? That’s not comfort food—it’s a cry for help."
"Says the woman eating raw fish," Ryan shot back.
The audience roared with laughter, and Ava found herself hating Ethan a little less as her and Ryan’s antics stole the spotlight.
Finally, the results flashed onscreen: 92% MATCH.
The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles. Ava stared at the screen, slack-jawed. "This is rigged."
"The data doesn’t lie," Ethan said smugly.
Ryan grabbed the mic, his grin widening. "Well, if the algorithm says so..."
---
The room, already buzzing with energy from Ethan’s matchmaking spectacle, fell silent as Ryan took the microphone. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a hesitant but resolute look that made Ava’s stomach flip.
"Ava," Ryan began, his voice clear but carrying an undertone of vulnerability, "you’re one of the most driven, passionate, and stubborn people I’ve ever t."
Ava blinked, thrown completely off guard. Where is he going with this? she wondered, gripping the edge of the stage podium for balance.
"You care about what you do more than anyone I know," Ryan continued, his gaze locking onto hers, "and you don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Not even ."
She swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of the hundred—or more—pairs of eyes watching them.
"And yeah," Ryan said, his voice softening as his smirk dissolved into sothing gentler, "you drive
crazy. But in the best way possible. You make
think differently. You make
want to be different."
Sowhere in the audience, soone audibly sighed. A woman whispered, "This is better than a Hallmark movie."
"And if I’ve learned anything from working with you," Ryan went on, his voice steady but warm, "it’s that maybe love isn’t so simple. Maybe it’s not about algorithms or intuition. Maybe it’s about finding soone who makes you want to believe."
A collective "aww" rippled through the crowd. Ava, her cheeks burning and heart hamring, was rendered utterly speechless. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—because for once, Ryan wasn’t hiding behind sarcasm or quips. He was standing there, completely raw and open, and it terrified her in the best possible way.
Soone from the back yelled, "KISS HER ALREADY!" The room erupted into cheers and laughter.
Ryan laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair as he stepped closer to Ava. His eyes searched hers, soft and questioning. For a mont, the world shrank to just the two of them.
"And that’s why—" he began, his voice dipping low, "I think it’s only fair to—"
And that’s when fate, or possibly karma, intervened.
---
Ryan’s foot snagged on a microphone cord, and in one horrible, slow-motion mont, he stumbled forward, arms flailing in a frantic attempt to regain balance.
"Ryan, no—!" Ava yelped, reaching out, but she was too late.
Ryan collided directly into Ethan, who let out a strangled yelp as the two n toppled backward—straight into the ticulously arranged dessert table.
The world seed to freeze as an entire table of delicate pastries, éclairs, cakes, and mousses tipped over like a sugar avalanche. The air filled with the sound of crashing platters and splattering whipped cream.
Ethan landed with an audible thud amidst a sea of desserts, a massive layer cake smashing spectacularly against his chest. Frosting splattered across his perfectly tailored suit, his hair now streaked with chocolate ganache.
Ryan, sprawled beside him, sat up slowly, a cupcake inexplicably stuck to his shoulder. He looked up at Ava, who stood frozen in mortified horror, and offered her a sheepish grin. "So... not exactly how I pictured this going."
---
The ballroom exploded into chaos. Phones were whipped out as dozens of attendees started recording the scene. Laughter filled the air as people leaned into each other, unable to contain themselves.
"Did you get that on video?!" soone exclaid.
"This is going on TikTok," another voice yelled.
Ethan sat up, looking like a disgruntled ghost covered in frosting. His face was red with a mixture of embarrassnt and rage as he swiped at the whipped cream now plastered across his cheeks. "WHAT—" he sputtered, his voice strangled. "WHO—"
"I’d say ’sorry,’ but..." Ryan gestured helplessly at the ss surrounding them, cake crumbs still clinging to his suit.
Ava clutched her stomach, caught between hysterical laughter and the overwhelming desire to lt into the floor. "You’re... you’re unbelievable," she managed, her voice shaking.
"Unbelievably charming," Ryan quipped, brushing a piece of éclairs off his lapel.
Across the room, i was the picture of calm as she sat by the refreshnt table, holding a perfectly intact slice of cheesecake she’d sohow salvaged from the chaos. She took a serene bite, her eyes twinkling with amusent. "This," she murmured to herself, "is going exactly as I planned."
Ethan scrambled to his feet, frosting dripping from his sleeves. His voice wavered as he forced a tight smile for the crowd. "Well, folks," he said through gritted teeth, "it looks like Cupid’s Algorithm has a sense of humor tonight!"
The audience erupted into more applause and cheers, their laughter reaching new heights as soone replayed the fall on their phone. Ethan’s eye twitched.
Ava groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I’m going to be a
by morning."
Ryan, still sitting amid the wreckage, shot her a lopsided grin. "Hey, at least you’ll be a viral ."
---
The mont the event ended, Ava bolted for the hallway, her heels clicking furiously on the marble floor. She could still hear the laughter and applause echoing behind her, but she wanted to be as far away from it as possible.
"Ava, wait!" Ryan called, jogging after her.
She spun around, her arms crossed and her cheeks flushed. "What, Ryan? What could you possibly have to say after... that?"
Ryan slowed to a stop in front of her, his expression sowhere between apologetic and amused. "I just—"
"Ruined the event?" Ava cut him off, her voice rising. "Because you did. You didn’t just ruin it—you turned it into a circus act. You tackled Ethan into a table of cake!"
"In my defense," Ryan said, holding up a finger, "the floor was slippery."
"Oh, please," Ava snapped, glaring. "You’re impossible."
Ryan hesitated, then his grin faded. "Look, I know I screwed up. But what I said onstage—about you, about us—I ant every word."
Ava’s breath caught, her anger faltering. "Then why do you keep pulling away?"
Ryan opened his mouth, but no words ca out. Instead, he stared at her, his jaw tightening.
"That’s what I thought," Ava said, her voice trembling. "You can’t even admit how you feel. You’d rather make jokes and smirk your way through everything because it’s easier than being real."
Ryan flinched, but Ava pressed on. "I thought you were different, Ryan. I thought you saw . But maybe I was wrong."
Her words hung heavy in the air, each one hitting him like a punch. Ryan looked down, his shoulders slumping.
"You’re not ready for this—for ," Ava said softly, tears stinging her eyes. She turned and walked away, leaving Ryan standing alone in the hallway, surrounded by the echoes of her words.
---
As Ava’s footsteps faded, Ryan leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the polished floor. Her words played over and over in his head, louder than the laughter still echoing from the ballroom.
She was right. He wasn’t ready. But the worst part was, he didn’t know if he ever would be.
Ryan sighed, running a hand through his hair. Sowhere deep down, he knew that this mont would haunt him—not because of the fall, or the dessert disaster, but because he’d let her walk away.
And for the first ti in a long ti, Ryan Kim didn’t know how to fix it.
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