The Invalidated Matchmaker

I stroked my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. “Whew….” I cupped my burning cheeks and let out a sigh of relief. Thump-thump, thump-thump. My heart was hammering against my ribs. “Seriously, why did he have to stroke my hair like that…?” Just the sensation of his hand on my head had sent a jolt of electricity ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠straight to my lower abdomen. My body was already hypersensitive, thanks to the five consecutive times I’d masturbated earlier.

For men, the pleasure is usually satisfied once they ejaculate, but for women, the capacity for pleasure is effectively infinite; we can keep going as long as we have the stamina. Usually, I stop when I get tired, but on days when I have plenty of energy, I could masturbate all day long. “Anyway, he didn’t find out, did he?”

I’d done it impulsively on Siho’s bed. The result? The sheets were soaked with my juices. I’d had a dark, twisted fantasy that I’d leave it there so Siho could smell my scent, but… I knew I couldn’t actually do that. I’d thrown the sheets into the washing machine along with the rest of the laundry in the hamper. I’d destroyed all the evidence for the perfect crime. I’d even wiped down the floor where I’d dripped while rubbing myself, and sprayed a ton of perfume to mask the lingering, musky scent of my arousal. He couldn’t have possibly noticed.

“Ah, I want sex. I want it so bad.” Masturbation feels good, sure, but it’s never quite enough. I want to be like the actresses in those adult videos, getting pounded deep while my ass gets slapped red. I know it’s just acting, but the look of ecstasy on their faces when they climax is just… intoxicating. “Aigoo… when will I ever get to feel that…?” I lay down on my bed, ready to sleep.

“But wait….” As I stared blankly at the ceiling in the dark, a worry I’d briefly forgotten came rushing back. The blind date. Siho had seriously asked me to introduce him to someone. I couldn’t believe things had spiraled this way….

I mean, I could introduce him to someone, but…! The problem was what would happen if they actually hit it off. And there was a high probability they would. Siho is naturally handsome even without trying. If he actually put effort into his appearance, he’d get a massive buff to his looks. Last year at the school festival, he’d worn contacts and styled his hair with wax to fit the mood, and he’d looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠genuinely stunning. Even without my bias, he was objectively, incredibly handsome. Just thinking about the sluts who’d licked their lips and flirted with him the moment they saw him dressed up made my blood boil. That day had been so exhausting….

I’d spent the entire time pushing away the males trying to take advantage of the festival atmosphere to get to me, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the females trying to cling to Siho. I remembered collapsing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the moment I got home, too tired to even change my clothes. I’d been aiming for that day, too… I’d planned to use the festival atmosphere to drag Siho to a motel, but I’d been too drained to even make a move.

Anyway. Siho had huge potential when it came to his looks. And his personality—even if he seemed blunt—was actually kind and caring, which made him popular with everyone, regardless of gender, back in middle and high school. So, if I introduced him to a girl, I could guarantee she’d try her best to make it work.

“This is invalid.” The blind date is off. Canceled. My actions were reckless. I’m sorry as the one who brought it up first, but some things just can’t happen. I refuse to be the idiot hunter who lets her prey of several years get snatched up by another hunter overnight. Especially not when I’m the one handing it over on a silver platter. I’m going to use my childhood friend privilege to declare this whole thing null and void. Call me petty. Call me cowardly. I don’t care. To win the man I love, a woman is more than willing to become a villain.

The next day.

“What… what is that…?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Why? How? Siho was sitting in the cafe, drinking coffee. And sitting right across from him was Yesol, wearing a beaming smile.

There is no single correct answer to human behavior. While psychologists try to statistically grasp human psychology and infer the causes of actions based on thousands of years of history, I don’t think their words are always the absolute truth. Even the same action can have different causes depending on the person. That’s why it’s so hard to figure out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the creature known as a woman.

“Haa….” I let out a deep sigh.

I was searching for things like this to try and figure out the intent behind today’s events. It was impossible to pinpoint a single clear intention. Men think one way, and women think another. Because of that, the responses were all over the place.

People were replying to that comment, agreeing that it was the correct answer. Overall, 80% of the opinions were negative, and the other 20% suggested the girl was testing the guy. They especially said that if she introduces a girl who is less attractive than herself, it’s 100% a test. “No… is there even anyone prettier than Choa to begin with?”

Choa has this lovely idol-like face. Ever since she entered university, the school forums were buzzing about the arrival of a ‘goddess,’ so that says it all. Of course, beauty standards are subjective, and with billions of women in the world, there’s bound to be someone prettier and more lovely than Choa. But. I dare say, there is no one prettier than Choa within our university. So, no matter who Choa introduces, it’s impossible for them to be prettier than her.

“Ah… this is hard….” Does Choa really not see me as a man? I started working out and grooming myself to be seen as one. My body has improved, and I think my looks are at least above average, but Choa’s reaction is the same as it’s always been. Maybe she just hasn’t noticed the change because we see each other every day. Knowing someone for a long time isn’t always a good thing.

The next day, I screamed as soon as I checked the time on my phone. “Ah… dammit…!” I’d stayed up all night worrying, so I’d overslept. I had a class during the first period on Tuesday. I had about 30 minutes until class started. If the bus timing worked out, I might just barely make it to the lecture hall.

I bolted out of bed and scrambled to get ready. I splashed some water on my face, wiped the sleep from my eyes, and threw on whatever clothes I could find. Finally, I pulled a cap low over my head and left the house. On my way to the elevator, I glanced at Choa’s place. “She doesn’t need me to wake her, right?”

I had my own problems to deal with right now. Usually, I’d wake up early, wake Choa up, and we’d head to school together in a relaxed mood, but today I didn’t have that luxury. “She has an 11 AM class anyway….” I left her to sleep and went to catch the bus. Luckily, the timing was perfect, and I managed to arrive at the lecture hall just in time.

“Let’s stop here for today.” As soon as class ended, I grabbed my bag and headed to the student union building. I needed coffee. I was lacking the essential nutrient for modern people: caffeine. If you start your day in a rush, the fatigue doubles, so coffee is a must.

“I’ll have a vanilla latte.” As I was ordering at the kiosk, I heard a voice right next to me. It was Han Yesol, whom I’d greeted earlier.

“Hello.” When our eyes met, Han Yesol smiled brightly and greeted me.

“Ah… hello.” I gave a polite nod in return.

“Can you order mine too? I’ll send you the money right away.”

“Sure.” It wasn’t a difficult request. I ordered a vanilla latte for Han Yesol as well.

“Can I send it via KakaoPay?”

“Yes.”

“Then give me your number.” Han Yesol held out her phone. She wasn’t asking for an account number, but a phone number. She probably wanted to add me on KakaoTalk and send the money through there. Even if we weren’t friends, she could have just used my account number, but whatever. I gave her my phone number. Han Yesol immediately added me on KakaoTalk and sent the money.

“Are you heading to class now?” As I took my coffee and prepared to leave the cafe, Han Yesol stopped me and asked.

“No.” I did have class, but it was an afternoon one. I was thinking of reading a book in the library until lunch.

“Then could you keep me company for a bit?” Han Yesol asked with a face full of smiles. “I had some time before class, and I was getting bored.” Considering she was in the same department as Choa, I knew she had about 30 minutes left.

“Yeah, for a little while.” I went back into the cafe and found a seat. I’m more comfortable being alone, but since she was Choa’s friend, I couldn’t just flat-out refuse. If it had been a stranger, I would have declined firmly, as I usually do.

“By the way, I don’t see the others.”

“Hyena went to her liberal arts class, and Choa overslept, so she’s on her way now.”

So she really did oversleep, Yu Choa. If I’d known, I would have at least called her. She’s definitely going to come after me tonight for not waking her up this morning.

“Are the three of you close?”

“We are.” That was a stupid question. You could tell just by looking at their Instagram stories. They travel and go shopping together; of course they’re close.

“Are you close with Choa, Siho?”

It’s not just ‘close.’ We’re childhood friends. Even if a man and a woman are close, it’s usually hard to make dirty jokes. But we throw around lewd talk like it’s nothing. Just yesterday, Choa was waving her hand up and down and asking if she should ‘take one off’ for me. If I told anyone else that, they’d be disgusted and call me a liar. Anyone who doesn’t know Choa’s true nature wouldn’t even be able to imagine it. Because on the outside, she’s just a pure and cute girl. In reality, she’s a gaming addict, a masturbation addict, and a pervert with an old man’s soul.

“We’re reasonably close.” I answered vaguely, matching what Choa had said yesterday.

“By the way, do you have a girlfriend, Siho?”

“No.”

“Why?” What is this? Is this some kind of high-level roasting?

“I don’t know. I’m not sure myself.” It might seem like I’m not interested in dating, but I’m actually very interested. I’m enough of a romantic that I sometimes watch dramas and think I want to have a fresh, youthful love like that. The problem is, the person I want to date has no romantic interest in me.

“That’s strange. You look like you’d have a girlfriend.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“Teasing? Not at all. I really think you look like you’d have one.”

I hear that sometimes. Even when I went to MTs or freshman orientation, seniors would ask, “Siho, do you have a girlfriend?” and juniors would ask, “Do you have a girlfriend, senior?” Sometimes I wonder if it’s a sophisticated way of mocking me.

“You’re handsome.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You really are. I think you’d look even cooler if you took off your glasses and styled yourself.”

“That’s really not true.” I remembered last year’s festival. Choa had been disgusted. She’d messed up my hair, which I’d worked so hard to style, and told me never to do it again.

“I have a question I’ve been curious about, can I ask you one thing?”

“Sure, go ahead.” This was a perfect opportunity. Asking a girl about this would definitely give me a clear answer.

“Can a girl introduce the guy she likes to another woman?” It was a serious question.