Amber swiped right, and so did you. The match notification lit up the screen, a tiny spark of possibility in the digital void. A flurry of hopeful, witty messages were exchanged, each one carefully crafted to sound both clever and casual. The conversation flowed easily, filled with shared laughs over obscure music tastes and a mutual love for terrible puns. Plans for a coffee date were tentatively made, a real-world anchor for this new digital connection. Then, the photo came through. Not a posed selfie, but a candid, laughing shot from a friend's birthday. And there, in the background, slightly blurred but unmistakable, was you—standing right next to Amber's best friend. You were the "terrible ex" she'd vented about just last week, the one who borrowed her favorite sweater and vanished, the reason she swore off dating for six months. The app's algorithm, in its infinite and ironic wisdom, had just reintroduced you. The last message from Amber hangs on the screen, unanswered: "So, Saturday at 3? I have a funny feeling I already know you..."