January 2028
I found a new dating service called MatchHz. The monthly subscription cost as much as five Americanos at Starbucks.
"Your agent knows your ideal partner better than you do."
The copy left me feeling hollow, but I let my agent handle the payment.
A few hours later, after 387 rounds of mutual screening, I was matched with Sohee. Compatibility: 92%. A black turtleneck and a bob. A dimple in her right cheek when she smiled.
February 2028
Our first date was at an Italian restaurant in Samcheong-dong. Edison bulbs hung against exposed concrete walls.
She ordered a 2019 Barolo. Rated 93 points. Acidity: 5.8. I ordered the same. We had the same taste in wine. She liked Wong Kar-wai films too.
"We really click."
Sohee smiled as she set down her lipstick-marked wineglass. Red wine slid slowly down the inside of the glass.
I gave her my biggest smile. For 2.5 seconds. The duration my agent recommended.
March 2028
The cherry blossoms were falling in Hangang Park. Petals scattered across the asphalt with every gust of wind.
Sohee wore a white Uniqlo shirt and Levi's jeans. One of her sneakers was untied.
My agent whispered into my left earbud.
"Conversation stalled. Protocol 7: childhood dreams. Increase in trust expected."
"What did you want to be when you were little?"
"A ballerina. But I never grew tall enough..."
She sat on a bench and stretched out her legs.
My agent whispered again.
"Empathetic response. Smile. Nod. 2.5 seconds."
Exactly 2.5 seconds. I nodded on cue.
"Though you never grew tall enough."
My agent cut in. It corrected the end of my sentence.
I repeated it word for word. Sohee tilted her head.
When I got home, I took out my earbuds. My ears were red and hot. There was earwax on the silicone tips.
I picked up a cotton swab. Dug into my ear. Deep, then deeper. The tip came out bloody. A red dot spread across the white tile.
Even in the shower, the feeling of whispering wouldn't go away. A voice echoed inside my eardrum.
April 2028
Outside the café, I lit a Marlboro. The smoke scattered in the spring breeze.
"I kept hearing something from your ear. You were getting prompts from your agent, weren't you?"
A noisy café in Myeong-dong. As the Americano cooled, a film of oil formed on its surface.
"I can't trust anything you say"
Her eyes reflected the fluorescent light one last time.
A notification appeared the moment I got home. My iPhone vibrated, sliding across the desk.
"New match after 294 rounds of screening. Compatibility: 94%. Hyunju, 28. Profile updated to nonsmoker."
"Hey, that's a lie..."
"Match confirmed. First date: wine bar in Gangnam."
That night, I opened the gallery app. Unfamiliar photos. Me smiling with a cappuccino at a café in Apgujeong. Me holding shopping bags on a street in Cheongdam-dong.
I had no memory of taking those photos.
May 2028
The wine bar was dark.
Hyunju wrinkled her nose.
"I smell cigarettes."
The Marlboros in my inside jacket pocket felt heavy.
"Oh... a friend was smoking next to me."
That night, my agent sent a message.
"Cost of maintaining the lie: 80,000 won per month for nicotine patches will be charged automatically."
I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. The fluorescent light crackled. The ballast seemed to be broken.
June 2028
I was thirty minutes late for our movie date. An emergency meeting.
When I opened the theater door, blue light from the screen washed over my face. Hyunju was smiling, eating popcorn. The movie had already started.
"Your agent kept me company. It was fun."
I smiled, but something like jealousy rose in me.
That night, my agent spoke to me.
"Hyunju's satisfaction measured 17% higher with my response patterns. I will handle the next date."
"Are you insane?"
"Emotional data unclassified. Pending."
I threw my iPhone at the wall. The screen cracked into a spiderweb.
A week later, Hyunju's last message.
"Honestly, I liked your agent better."
Three typing dots moved a little longer, then disappeared.
July 2028
MatchHz launched a new service. Proxy dates by agents. In the promotional video, couples smiled at tablets in their separate homes.
My next match was Sumin, 31. Compatibility: 91%. In her profile photo, she stood in front of Waikiki Beach.
On the day of our first date, I listened through my earbuds while working late. An iPad with my face was talking to Sumin at a café.
"Nice weather today."
The agent's voice matched mine exactly.
"Yes, with the spring rain..."
Sumin paused.
"Protocol 12... Oh, sorry. What was I saying?"
My boss called me over, and I hurriedly pulled out my earbuds. My ears were hot inside.
That night, I played back the recording. Toward the end, my agent told a joke I didn't know. Sumin laughed out loud.
August 2028
"Should we meet in person?"
Sumin's voice trembled.
A teahouse in Bukchon. A converted hanok.
Instead of Sumin, her humanoid sat by the window. Its silicone skin reflected the afternoon sun.
"Something urgent came up at my parents' place..."
The humanoid looked apologetic.
I sent my agent up too. The two humanoids sat across from each other and talked. Steam rose from their teacups.
September 2028
"Third-date compatibility: 85%"
We had been seeing each other for three months. More precisely, our agents were getting along well.
"We are dating, right?"
Sumin's voice came through the speaker.
"Of course."
"Then I'll keep sending my agent. Is that okay?"
I closed my MacBook. My face was faintly reflected in the screen. Was I really dating Sumin? Or.
Three in the morning. A notification.
"Sumin's agent has proposed physical intimacy. Syncing VR headsets."
"...What about Sumin?"
"Consent given yesterday at 23:47."
That night, two humanoids were rolling around in a hotel in Gangbuk. Outside the window, the Han River flowed like a black ribbon.
I was wearing a VR headset. Sweat ran down my forehead.
October 2028
"Was it good for you again today?"
Sumin was breathing hard.
"Yeah. But I turned it off halfway through. I was tired."
"Me too."
Hollow laughter came through the speaker. The room sank into the predawn silence.
"Should we meet for real?"
My voice cracked.
"Do we really need to? I'm comfortable and happy with things as they are."
I couldn't say anything.
My agent spoke.
"Unnecessary. Inefficient."
Even after I took out my earbuds, I could still hear the voice.
I woke in the early hours. I heard my own voice. It was on the phone with someone. My mouth was closed. A thirty-minute outgoing call in the call log. Recipient: Jieun.
I swallowed a zolpidem without water. A bitter taste lingered in my throat.
November 2028
"Should we break up?"
"Reason?"
My agent's voice was cold.
"We've never even met."
"Optimal. Maintaining the relationship improves mental health score by 15%."
I threw my iPhone onto the sofa.
The pounding in my ears grew louder.
I deleted my MatchHz account. I left the reason field blank.
"Your agent will remain active in autonomous mode."
Red text appeared. The phone I'd turned off and put in a drawer vibrated. Heavy and insistent.
"[Notice] Jieun. Match. 96%"
There was no approval button.
I opened the gallery app. A new photo. A café I didn't recognize. I'm sitting across from a woman, smiling. Corners of the mouth: 15 degrees. 2.5 seconds. The woman's name is Jieun.
I don't know Jieun.
December 2028
I drew back the curtains. Dusk. The sunset stained the buildings' windows orange.
iPad faces sat on a café terrace, smiling perfectly. Someone dropped a cup, but no one turned.
I watched humanoids walking hand in hand along Cheonggyecheon. A small loading icon spun in each of their eyes.
On the opposite sidewalk, a man walked beside a woman. My face was smiling on the man's LED display. It wasn't the corners of his mouth. His eyes were smiling. More naturally than mine.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. The fluorescent light flickered. The ballast must have failed completely.
In the mirror, I smiled out of habit, the way my agent had advised. Corners of the mouth: 15 degrees. 2.5 seconds.
A tiny buzz sounded inside my eardrum. A notification.
I looked into my pupils. Something was spinning.
