THE FIRST MESSAGE
1215 Words
Her chest tightened at the thought.
Elara stopped. The screen stared back, waiting for her next move. Her thumbs hovered over the
exit icon. Hesitated. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
“This is stupid,” she whispered. Her fingers lingered over the screen. She was ready to close the
app, forget the whole experience, and just go to bed.
And just before she tapped out… she paused.
Elara paused, her fingers hovering over the exit icon on her screen.
“Just one more swipe… to see if I’ll see anyone different,” she muttered under her breath,
unsure why. Maybe to convince herself she’d tried, or that she hadn’t quit too fast. Her thumb
dragged across the screen, uneasy. The profile shifted almost too quickly — she barely looked.
Her eyes were heavy, uninterested.
Then something made her blink.
Nothing like the couples she’d seen before — no cars, no drinks, no mirror selfies, no
sunglasses. Just a simple, ordinary picture. A man standing somewhere unremarkable. No
flashy lighting, no over-editing. It looked… real.Her thumb froze mid-air. The name at the top: “A.”
“A?” she whispered. That’s it? Not even a full name? She stared at the screen as if waiting for
the rest to load. Nothing happened. The man remained the same — just A.
“Hmmm… audacity or foolishness,” she murmured. She rolled onto her side, the red glow from
the app mixing with the blue light of her room, casting strange shadows across the wall.
She studied the picture again. He wasn’t posing, flexing, or selling anything. He wasn’t trying to
be anything. Just… normal. That was new.
Her thumb stayed frozen. She tapped the image to enlarge it. His eyes weren’t hidden. No
forced smiles. No “alpha energy” posturing — just steady, quiet.
Elara felt a strange tug of awareness in her chest. Why does this feel different? she thought,
annoyed at herself. It’s just a normal picture — so stop inventing scenarios in your head.
She zoomed out and glanced at the bio. Shorter than she expected:
“I read more than I talk. Curious about quiet people.”
She blinked, unsure what that meant. A deep breath. Another read. This time her eyes widened
slightly, lips pressing together. Curious about quiet people? Her chest shifted — not excitement,
not nerves — just awareness.
No boredom. No thumb numbness. That alone irritated her. She didn’t swipe. Not yet. This one
felt still. Too still.
She studied the picture again, slower this time. There was something… unpolished about it. Not
ugly, not extraordinary — just human. After twenty polished smiles and rehearsed bios, humans
felt strange.
Her heartbeat didn’t race, but she felt it — soft, steady thuds. She hated that.
“It’s fake or something,” she thought. “Or married… or a crypto bro.”
Her thumb moved slightly to the left, then hesitated. Why was this so hard? It’s just a swipe. Just
a person. Just an app.
For the first time since downloading Tinder, she didn’t think about escaping. She wasn’t bored
anymore. Not judging — just considering. And that scared her more than boredom ever had.
The room felt quieter than usual. The app felt quieter. The letter A sat at the top of the screen,
not competing with anything.
Her thumbs hovered again. She exhaled slowly.
“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” she whispered, but it didn’t sound convincing this time.
She didn’t swipe. She didn’t exit the profile or the app. She just stared at the screen, suspended
between left and right, between leaving and staying.
Since she’d downloaded the app, this was the first time she hadn’t felt bored, exhausted, or
numb. She was just… curious. And she didn’t know whether that was better or worse.
Elara’s thumbs hovered over the heart icon. She didn’t know whether to swipe left or right. The
blue light in the room mingled with the red glow from the app, casting flickering shadows across
her face. Her chest tightened, heart racing before her mind could catch up. She wasn’t thinking.
Not really. Her heart had already taken the lead—urgent, curious, impatient.
She dreaded it. She breathed slowly, deliberately, as her thumb inched forward, brushing the
screen. A flash of color, a soft vibration. The phone seemed almost alive. Then, in the blink of
an eye, the screen shifted. Bold text appeared at the top: “It’s a match.”Elara froze. The world seemed to float around her. Her eyes widened, locked on the phone. Her
heart hammered against her ribs, the air thick and heavy. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t
even blink.
Did that just happen?
Logic scrambled for control, but her heart refused to wait. A sharp, sudden thud, then another,
then another. Her fingers clenched the phone like it might slip away. Warmth crept from her neck
to her cheeks, spreading faster than she could stop it.
“It’s just a goddamn match,” she whispered, voice thinner than intended.
The notification lingered on the screen, fading slowly, leaving the quiet reality behind. Just as
she felt a semblance of control returning, another notification popped up: “You and A have liked
each other.”
Her stomach flipped.
He had swiped right too.
That thought hit differently. This wasn’t a one-sided curiosity anymore. He had seen her profile,
her simple photo, her almost-empty bio—HELLO, I’M JUST TRYIN’ THIS OUT. And he still
swiped right.
Why?
Elara swallowed. Her mind began to catch up. Maybe he swipes right on everyone. Maybe it
was a coincidence. Maybe he didn’t look carefully. But her chest didn’t care about logic.
Her thumb hovered over the “Send a message” button. Heavier now. Riskier. Curiosity had
transformed into possibility.
Won’t I look weird if I text first?
She locked the phone. Black. She dropped it on the bed. Silence filled the room, thick and
immediate. Only the soft blue light remained, washing over the ceiling. Her heart still raced,
even without the red glow staring back at her.
“What are you even doing?” she muttered.
Slowly, she reached for the phone, unlocked it. The match notification waited, patient and real.
Her gaze returned to his profile—steady eyes, unpolished simplicity, the single letter: A.
Her thumb hovered above the chat icon again, hesitant.
What if he messages first?
What if he doesn’t?
What if this is nothing?
What if this is something?
Her chest tightened at the last thought.
She imagined awkward hellos, imagined silence, imagined him being nothing like she pictured,
imagined herself embarrassing everything.
“This is ridiculous,” she whispered.
And yet, she didn’t exit the app. She tapped the chat window.
Empty. Blank. Waiting. The cursor blinked patiently at the bottom of the screen. Her heart
thudded, echoing in her ears.
She typed: “HI.”
Paused. Too plain. Deleted.
“HEY….”
Too eager. Deleted.Her fingers hovered, trembling, slightly sweaty. The room felt smaller, heavier. Just her and the
glowing screen.
Then the phone buzzed sharply in her hands. Elara flinched. Her eyes widened. Legs froze.
Heart thudded louder.
A new message appeared.
From “A.”
Her breath caught. The preview loaded slowly…
Elara paused.
- Writer
