I sent my crush a "Good morning," "Good afternoon," and "Good night" text every single day, right on schedule. Three months into chasing him, he finally cracked and bombarded me with messages. "Jane, are you a bot?" I looked at the message on my phone screen, thought for a moment, and replied: "Press 1 to unlock Wifey Mode." 1. [Good night.] After finishing a long day of video shooting, I picked up my phone and sent my usual message to my crush. Work ended late today, so it was already past midnight. Ever since I confessed my feelings to him, he hadn't replied to a single message. Sleepiness washed over me. Just as I snuggled under the covers, my phone started buzzing incessantly. [Your 'Good night' is exactly two hours, eighteen minutes, and thirty-six seconds later than yesterday!] [Are you texting other men?] [Was it all a lie when you said you only liked me?] [Reply to me right now! Immediately!] [Who chases someone by only sending three generic greetings a day?!] [Jane, are you a bot?] I groggily unlocked my phone. Through my half-asleep haze, I only really processed the last line. I thought for a moment. [Press 1 to unlock Wifey Mode.] The phone went silent instantly. I watched the "Typing..." bubble appear and disappear three whole times before a message finally came through. [R... really?] [1] 2. When I opened my eyes again, it was 1:00 PM the next day. I checked my phone and found someone had been messaging me all night. [If that's the case, I've actually been working on my abs recently. They're not bad.] [Never mind, this isn't appropriate.] [Actually, I don't really want to show them that much.] [You brought it up, I didn't say I had to show you.] [Why aren't you replying... did you change your mind?] [Jane, you did this on purpose!] [I hate you. I'm ignoring you!] The man on the other end had clearly stayed up all night. He texted from 1:00 AM until 6:00 AM. Looking at the wall of text, I was dumbfounded. I'm doomed. What on earth did I reply with in my sleep last night? I met Sawyer in a mobile MOBA game. I was playing a mage, and he, playing an invisible assassin, hunted me down the entire match. My final score was 1-26-0. The worst part? My teammates reported me for feeding, and my credit score dropped. Furious, I added him as a friend. [Mage isn't my main.] [1v1 me in three days if you dare. I'll destroy you!] He replied with a question mark. [Then who played the 4,000 mage games on your profile?] [Don't worry about it! Do you accept the challenge or not?] He was silent for a long time. [Accepted.] 3. I successfully added him on text. He agreed to play the mage for our duel. Three days later, we met in the game as agreed. I picked the assassin I had been practicing furiously for 72 hours. I was confident. "Prepare to lose," I trash-talked over the voice chat. Ten minutes later. I was crying like a boiling kettle. "How is this possible!" "I practiced for three whole days!" The man on the other end sighed. After staying silent, he finally spoke, his tone full of resignation. "Four thousand games and you're still in Platinum tier. I didn't know someone could actually be this bad." "For only three days of practice, you did okay." "Stop crying. I'll carry you in ranked mode, okay?" His voice was shockingly attractive. As someone with a voice fetish, I was instantly hooked. I immediately created a lobby and invited him. In just one week, he carried me to the highest rank. We gradually got to know each other. He said his name was Sawyer. I laughed and said he had the same name as a current top-tier pop star. He didn't respond, just encouraged me to quit my job and pursue my dream of being a beauty influencer. We often stayed on calls until midnight. But sometimes he was weird and would hang up abruptly. One day, I finally mustered the courage to confess to him. I hesitated for a long time. Although we had been connected for a while, he never posted a single photo. How could a truly handsome guy resist posting photos? What if he just had a nice voice but was actually a neckbeard living in a basement? Fine, then we’d just never meet in person! [Do you want to date? The kind where we never meet in real life.] He replied instantly. [?] [Never meet? Am I unpresentable?] I hesitated and made up a hurried excuse. But he never replied after that. I didn't know what else to say, so I just started sending "Good morning," "Good afternoon," and "Good night" every day. This went on for three months. I thought he had blocked me long ago. Now, looking at the screen full of frantic messages, I was dizzy. I sent a tentative reply. [I was half-asleep yesterday and typing nonsense. Don't take it seriously.] He replied immediately. [I didn't take it seriously!] [Let's meet up.] I stared at the words "meet up" for a long time, unable to react. Meet up? How could we? What if he's a 300-pound, greasy middle-aged man? Not only would his image in my heart be ruined, but what if he saw me—a naturally gorgeous beauty—and refused to let me leave? Online flirting is fine, but offline meetings are dangerous. Seeing I hadn't replied for a while, he seemed anxious. [You talk about liking me, but you're scared to meet?] Damn man. He knows I can't resist a challenge. [Let's meet!] 4. I pulled the most expensive dress out of my closet. I did my makeup flawlessly. In my head, I was already picturing a dramatic scene where a man falls to his knees at the sight of my beauty. But thinking about reality made me nervous. I opened my drawer and tossed a canister of pepper spray into my bag. I took a taxi to the restaurant. I tiptoed to the entrance and peeked inside. A message popped up. [I'm here. In the corner booth.] But he didn't say left or right. I was about to ask, but stopped myself. I couldn't let him know I was here yet. I needed to scout the situation. I looked into the restaurant. In the far right corner sat a man wearing a black baseball cap and a black mask. I couldn't see his face at all. I looked to the left. That man was short, looked about thirty, and his face was shining with grease under the lights. I closed my eyes. It's over. That has to be him. What normal person shows up to a first date wearing a hat and mask indoors? So, the other one must be him! I hesitated at the door for a long time. Just as I decided to make a run for it, a hand reached out from behind and tapped my shoulder. I screamed internally. My hand was already in my bag. I whipped out the pepper spray and unleashed a cloud on the man behind me. I heard a miserable groan. Before he could react, I dived into a taxi across the street. "Drive! Go!" The engine roared. I could vaguely hear someone calling my name from behind, but I curled up in the back seat, too terrified to look back. After getting home and calming down, I finally built up the courage to check my phone. [Jane, you played me!] [We agreed to meet, why did you leave?] [You said you liked me, and now you flirt and run?] The wall of messages gave me a headache. I could only make up a lie to stabilize him. [Today was awful. I ran into a pervert at the restaurant entrance.] [I promise I'll meet you next time!] The man seemed skeptical. He replied slowly: [Really?] I sent a nodding cat GIF immediately. After all, I still needed him to carry me in the game. Suddenly, an email popped up on my work computer. It was an invitation to a major televised makeup competition. I couldn't believe a big show like this would invite a small-time beauty blogger like me. Suspicious, I opened the invite, my hand trembling on the mouse. It was real! I immediately took a screenshot and sent it to Sawyer. Followed by a smug emoji. [See? I told you my skills are undeniable. You have to watch on time when I'm on the show.] A voice message came back instantly. "Okay, okay, I promise to watch on time." The tone was doting, making my imagination run wild. If he wasn't an old uncle, but a tall, handsome guy with an eight-pack... that wouldn't be so bad.
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