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Chapter Two
Russell
I check my appearance in the mirror for probably the fiftieth time, running my palm over my dark hair. At its short length, most of my “styling” is dictated by simple physics. I’ve already shaved, changed my shirt four times, my pants twice, and I spent over half an hour just deciding on a cologne.
I feel ridiculous, and I know there’s no real reason to be acting so crazy. After all, this is a first date just like any other first date. It just happens to be my first real date ever with a guy.
I’d known ever since I was young that I wasn’t fully like the other guys. Yeah, I drooled over the hot girls with them, but I’d always found myself just as drawn to attractive men.
I had a short fling with a friend in college, although we’d never really “dated,” it was mostly just a physical fling that we’d kept a secret. Beyond that, there have been a handful of hookups with other guys since, but for the most part, all of my romantic experience has been with women.
Not that I’m complaining about that, either, though. When I signed up for the beta test of this “MysteryMatch” app, I was open to whatever came my way, I was just excited to finally identify myself as bisexual for the first time.
I pull out my phone again and open the app to look at my match’s photo for the millionth time. The guy, Marco, is drop-dead gorgeous, with sandy-brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a crooked smile that makes my heart beat a little bit faster.
I have to admit, it’s a little bit strange, going out with someone I know nothing about. I’ve never really tried the whole blind date thing, so to try a virtual one might have been an impulsive decision, but I’ve just been in such a rut lately, I wanted to do something different.
My once-comfortable routine has become stagnant, and I’m desperately ready for some change. And maybe, just maybe, Marco will be the change I need.
My eyes flit up to the clock on the screen and my heart starts to race. Finally, it’s time for me to leave so I can make it to the restaurant, plenty early for my date.
Giving my reflection one last appraisal, I feel a grin spreading over my face. I look pretty damn good, if I may say so myself. I stuff my phone in my pocket and grab my keys before heading out the door and out to my car.
I have to admit, the whole premise of MysteryMatch is kind of cool, and I’m excited to see it through. Most dating apps, you had to fidget with a profile that every potential match would read through, you’d be fussing over what pictures to post, and half the time you can’t tell if you’re swiping on a real person on a bot.
And the way the creators set it up is fascinating, from the surprisingly detailed survey you fill out to the way they let you and your match set up a date without having a single conversation.
I slip into the driver’s seat and turn the key in the ignition, plugging the address of the restaurant into my GPS. I only moved to this area about nine months ago, and there are still parts of the city I haven’t gotten to know.
Maybe a lot of parts. I haven’t been to any of the restaurants the app had offered up in suggestion, but this one, The Lunar Room, was the one that had most interested me, so I was glad that apparently Marco felt the same way.
Before I backed out of my driveway, I threw on some music, hoping that maybe some pounding bass and wailing guitar will help take some of the edge off. Singing along helps me channel some of the nervous energy.
I’m nervous, but excited. It’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone, really. My last relationship ended maybe a year and a half ago, when my ex-girlfriend decided that she just didn’t want to be tied down anymore after three years together and one year sharing my place.
I’d been crushed, honestly, and it left the place feeling kind of haunted. And when I saw a new job opportunity in a new state, for better pay than I was already making, it seemed like a no-brainer. The cost of living out here was cheaper, too, so rather than going back to apartment life, I got myself a great little house. It’s in a fantastic area, close to pretty much anything I could need.
I told myself maybe I’d try to move on once I got unpacked. Then once I was unpacked, I told myself that maybe once things were more settled with the new job. Then I settled in and told myself that I was just too busy.
But things have slowed down, now that I’ve really had the time to get into the swing of things, and I’m out of excuses. But I think it’s more than that. I was making excuses to mask the fact that I wasn’t ready.
And in that time, I really did some self-reflecting, and in the process, finally truly came out to myself as a bisexual man. And when I’d stumbled across the application for the MysteryMatch beta test and decided to put myself out there, it had been a fucking thrill to check that box for the first time.
I spend my drive wondering what he’s going to be like. I don’t really know how MysteryMatch pairs you up with your date, so I find myself wondering if he likes the same movies I’m into, or music. Is he a sports guy, or maybe sci-fi?
I finally pull up at The Lunar Room and find a place to park. I’m a little early, but I wonder if he’s already here and find myself looking over the cars as if I’ll be able to guess which one is his. Until I realize that I’m being completely ridiculous and head inside, my heart pounding with anticipation.
When I step inside, I spot him right away, hanging near the hostess stand and looking at his phone. My heart skips a beat in my chest. He’s even better looking in person.
Those piercing blue eyes of his are framed with a simple pair of rectangular black glasses that make him look a little nerdy, but sinfully sexy, like the hot young professor all the co-eds fawn over.
There’s no hint of recognition on his face when he spots me, however, and he returns his attention to his phone. I feel a tiny bit stung until I rationalize that it’s one picture, maybe I look just different enough in person that he doesn’t realize it’s me. Some people aren’t great with faces, after all. Or hell, maybe he decided to amp up the “mystery” factor and not even look at my photo.
“Hey, are you Marco?”
He lifts his head once more, looking surprised. “Um, yeah. Sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Russell, your MysteryMatch for tonight?”
