Chapter 2 The Government Got a Match for You
The minute Ava got on her Holoband, she set up a burner account on a forum and posted, ‘Broke up with my boyfriend the night before my twenty-fifth birthday. Just got a government notice telling me to register for marriage. Does anyone know how to dodge the fine—or jail?’
She hit post, snapped the band shut, and yanked on her running shoes. Her head was spinning, and she needed air before she did something stupid.
She ran five full laps around the man-made lake before heading back to her dorm. Two stale bread rolls and a half-empty carton of milk would do for breakfast. She sat cross-legged on her bed, scrolling through the comments while chewing.
She’d assumed her post would drown in the endless flood of online noise. Instead, it had blown up.
Netizen 1: ‘You serious, sweetheart? I’ll volunteer! Fifty-eight years old, about six-one, Rank A mental power, 170 pounds, seven figures in savings—still strong as an ox!’
Netizen 2: ‘Ignore that old timer! I’m forty, successful, handsome, with a full head of hair, and still got my charm!’
Netizen 3: ‘Come on, this is clearly bait. New account, no history, one post, and you’re drooling? Grow up, simps.’
Ava groaned.
She hadn’t even posted a picture, and the comments section already looked like a singles ad gone wrong. She wasn’t looking for a date, yet here she was—free entertainment for bored strangers.
She spotted one user with a daisy icon and typed back, ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but this isn’t bait.’
The reply came instantly. ‘Wait—you’re actually a woman?’
Her brow twitched. ‘Yeah. Female. Not pretending. Whoever fakes being a girl? Enjoy dying single.’
Another ping followed. ‘Dang, girl, how’d you end up that bad off? You’re making us look weak!’
Ava’s thumb hovered above the screen. Seriously? Since when was getting dumped a national embarrassment?
The daisy icon commented again, ‘Listen, I don’t know your story, but if you’re scared of the fines, just find a placeholder husband. Register, ride it out, divorce later. Everyone does it.’
Ava rolled her eyes. Yeah, sure. If I have a backup guy, I won‘t be here begging the internet for advice.
She clicked the daisy icon and sent a private message, ‘I’m just a regular woman. Not Awakened, not rich, no backups. I didn’t see anyone else while I was with him.’
The daisy icon replied fast, ‘Oh, girl, he totally messed with your head. Can’t believe it—still some good girls left in this galaxy after all.
‘Anyway, that ten-day deadline’s flexible. You can push it until you’re twenty-six, worst case. You’ll get fined a few hundred grand, tops.
‘That jail’s all bluff—they just make you sit through a mandatory “relationship re-education” class. Basically, a brainwashing session where they sell you government-picked men. But trust me, none of those guys is worth your time. Stay off that thread; half of them sound like creeps.’
‘Thanks for the heads-up,’ Ava typed back. ‘But I’m broke. I can’t afford even one fine.’
Three minutes passed before the next ping.
‘Then, let me lend you some. Pay me back whenever. No pressure.’
Ava froze.
The offer hit her like a punch to the chest. Her throat tightened, and she blinked fast to keep from crying. ‘That’s kind of you, but no. I’ll figure it out.’
No reply came.
Still, something about that stranger’s kindness warmed her chest. She didn’t even know this girl, but something about her felt… bright like sunlight.
Then, another message arrived.
The daisy icon warned, ‘You still there? Delete that post, quick! Some guys are trying to track your IP. The second they smell a woman online, they lose their minds. Don’t give them the chance. I’ll ask around for something safer. Hang tight.’
Ava’s pulse spiked. She jumped back to the thread—sure enough, a few users were bragging about tracing her location, threatening to find her.
Panic surged up her throat as she deleted the post in a heartbeat.
…
Ten minutes later, the daisy icon messaged again. ‘Alright, here’s what you can do. Try the Match Bureau. It’s old-school, but it’s legit. They’ve got every unmarried man on record. Plug in your preferences, and the system will pair you with someone decent.’
Relief hit Ava so hard she almost laughed. ‘Thanks. What if the match already has a girlfriend?’
The daisy icon replied, ‘That’s covered. If he’s in a stable relationship, it’s flagged in his profile. My mom says set your compatibility filter to eighty percent or higher—those matches tend to be better quality.’
Ava smiled, a rare flicker of hope in her eyes. ‘Appreciate it. Where are you from? If you’re nearby, I owe you dinner.’
The daisy icon replied, ‘I’m not on Alayna Planet. I’m from Capitol Planet. I only joined your forum to argue with some guy from your region and ended up stumbling across your post. Honestly, I thought you were catfishing. You’re a year older than me—let’s add each other. I don’t know why, but you seem… real.’
Ava chuckled softly, that small, sharp tooth peeking out when she smiled. They exchanged Holoband contacts and chatted for a while longer. Her new friend’s name was Lianne Mercer—the first genuine friend Ava had ever met online.
A glance at the date made her heart skip—three days until New Year’s Eve. Once the holiday hit, every government office would shut down. If she didn’t register by then, she’d be completely screwed.
She got on her Holoband again, searched the Match Bureau, and dialed. The automated voice walked her through the steps like a bank loan hotline. By the time she hung up, she had a plan.
Fine. If the government‘s in the matchmaking business, let them do it. It can‘t be any worse than the idiots I‘ve picked.
