So there we were, on this magical date that started with cocktails, laughter and ended under a sky full of stars—because who doesn't love a cliché? We laughed about our shared hatred of flakes, sat at the end of the bar with condensation from the ceiling dripping all over my back. And what better way to end the night with a kiss so electric it could've powered a small city. Sparks flew, hearts raced, and for a hot second, I thought, "This is it, the rom-com ending!" But nope, the next morning, reality hit like a cold shower: turns out our vibes were more "one-hit wonder" than "eternal flame." We both ghosted the idea of round two, but being the evolved adults we are (or pretend to be), we hopped on a podcast to hash it out. "Great kiss, good chemistry—next caller!" we joked, turning our flop into fodder for the masses. Who needs therapy when you've got mics and mild embarrassment?
