The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Leo singing "Can't Help Falling in Love" in an Elvis voice… from the shower.
"Why is he like this?" Jessie mumbled, her face half-buried in a pillow.
"No one knows," I said. "Some say he was raised by circus pigeons."
Zara walked in, wrapped in a silk robe and holding a smoothie labeled Glow Juice No. 3. "We have bigger problems. The app just updated."
I bolted upright. "What do you mean 'updated'?"
She turned her phone to show the screen. The TrueMatch Quest app now had an ominous banner that read:
"LEVEL 3 UNLOCKED: SECRETS, SABOTAGE & SUDDEN SINGING"
Jessie squinted. "Sudden singing?"
At that moment, Leo burst out of the bathroom dramatically, still dripping wet, holding a hairdryer like a microphone.
"DID SOMEONE SAY… DUET?"
"No one said duet," Milo muttered from behind a laptop. "Also, I read the terms and conditions last night."
We all stared at him.
"You… what?"
"I couldn't sleep," he said. "And also, the Wi-Fi is restricted to the app and banana-related websites. So I read the fine print. All 87 pages."
"And?" Zara asked, cautiously sipping her smoothie.
He cleared his throat. "Apparently, we signed up for a full week of... increasingly elaborate dating simulations, designed to 'challenge our emotional bandwidth and romantic patience.' Also, there's a clause that says we forfeit our dignity."
"Wait, what?" I said. "Did you say dignity?"
"Yup." He held up the screen. "Right here. Section 12. Subsection 4: 'Participants may experience extreme cringe, unfiltered honesty, and public interpretive dance.'"
We sat in silence, letting that sink in.
Jessie finally said, "Okay, but let's admit… this is still more entertaining than Tinder."
Before anyone could respond, Crystal appeared on the intercom.
"Good moooorning, star-crossed swipers! Today's theme: Trust or Betrayal! Each of you will be given a secret. If your partner guesses it, you earn points. If not... well, let's just say your dinner might be slightly... electrified."
"Did she say electrified?" Leo asked.
"She said might," I pointed out. "That's not reassuring."
Minutes later, we were in a makeshift studio decorated like a 90s game show. There were flashing lights, a spinning wheel of doom, and a stage that vibrated every time someone lied.
Jessie narrowed her eyes. "I swear, if this turns into a lie detector challenge, I'm suing someone. Probably Crystal."
We were each handed cards with our "secrets." Mine read:
"Once kissed someone by accident. At a funeral."
I stared at it, horrified. "I cannot tell Milo this."
"You don't have to," Crystal said, suddenly next to me like she teleports. "Just act suspicious until he guesses."
Spoiler: I'm terrible at acting suspicious. I either look guilty or constipated. No in-between.
Milo sat across from me, looking both amused and nervous.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," I said way too fast. "Totally fine. Super chill. Zero trauma. Ha-ha."
He blinked. "You're either hiding a dark secret or you stole someone's cat."
"Just ask your question," I said, already sweating.
He leaned forward. "Have you… ever kissed someone in an awkward setting?"
My jaw dropped. "Wait—how did you—?"
He grinned. "Your ears turned red. They always do when you panic."
I covered my ears. "Unfair! That's not scientifically proven!"
The stage lit up with a triumphant jingle. "CORRECT MATCH!"
Confetti rained down. Again.
"Why is it always confetti?" Jessie groaned in the background. "It gets in my bra."
Other rounds did not go as smoothly.
Zara guessed that Leo's secret was "I once dated a mime," but it turned out to be "I still sleep with a blanket named Pablo."
Jessie refused to play, so her round involved throwing water balloons labeled "LIES" at Leo's head. She missed on purpose. Or so she claimed.
But the strangest part?
In the middle of all this nonsense, something unexpected started to happen. We were… bonding.
Milo and I shared inside jokes. Jessie and Leo bickered like siblings in a sitcom. Zara offered us skincare tips between challenges. Even Crystal smiled more genuinely, like maybe she wasn't entirely powered by glitter and corporate enthusiasm.
Later that evening, after we survived a trust-fall exercise that nearly ended in a sprained ankle and mild emotional trauma, Milo and I found ourselves sitting alone by the rooftop fountain.
"You ever think about just… quitting the app?" I asked, watching the water ripple.
He smiled. "All the time."
"So why don't you?"
He shrugged. "Because I'm kinda enjoying the chaos. And I'm enjoying… this."
He glanced at me.
My heart did a weird, fluttery thing.
I smiled. "Yeah. Same."
Then a robotic duck floated by, wearing sunglasses and a tiny bow tie.
We both burst into laughter.
Because somehow, in the middle of all this absurdity—we were finding something real.
Or at least… something that might be worth swiping right on.