I take a minute to clean up, then drag myself to my room. Hair in a messy bun, hoodie pulled over my knees, I settle in front ofmy desktop. Time to queue content, organize footage, and edit the six million clips I took today.
I work for about an hour, editing content from the press conference, but my brain keeps drifting back to the comments, the chaos, the sheer weight of Rogue’s presence on the team. Every time I scroll past another shot of him—jaw tight, eyes narrowed, looking like he wants to be anywhere else—I can’t help but notice how ridiculously gorgeous he is. There’s a wall built around him, sure, but even from behind the camera, I can see it doesn’t hide everything.
And then there’s Bri’s voice in my head, reminding me I should be getting back out there. Reminding me I need some kind of connection. Something real.
I stare at my phone. Then, without thinking too hard about it, I open the App Store.
Veil.
It has a simple white icon with a soft gradient background and a clean Serif font. I tap the download button before I can talk myself out of it.
The splash screen appears:
“Skip the filters, skip the show.
Just words, just truth, just letting love grow.”
Beneath it, the fine print scrolls across the screen, the app’s promise spelled out in clean lines, promising secrecy and anonymity. Create a profile, share your interests, and only reveal yourself when you’re ready. No likes, no swipes, no bios begging for attention, just conversation.
I bite my lip, hesitating.
Then I tap the large Create Profile option.
The screen prompts me with a question:Who are you—beneath the surface?
I take a deep breath and start typing.
I’m someone who believes in the quiet kind of love. The kind that feels like coming home. I want to find someone to laugh with, travel with, grow old with. I want late-night talks and morning coffee. A partner, not just a fling. Someone who’s ready for the kind of love that sticks.
It asks about interests, so I keep it honest.
I love spending time with my friends, going on spontaneous adventures, and making memories that last longer than a camera roll. I’m a big fan of movie nights, bad reality TV, and thunderstorms. I’ll take pancakes for dinner, and I firmly believe pizza is a food group.
And because I can’t help myself, I add:
I own an unreasonable number of scrunchies, get emotionally attached to fictional characters, and will absolutely cry over videos of dogs seeing their owners come home from deployment.
I sit back and read it over. It’s honest, it’s real, it’s me. No name, no pictures, just… me, behind the veil.
The rest is shockingly simple.
A few final questions pop up.
Preferred distance?I slide the marker towithin 50 miles. I’m not driving to Georgia for a date.
Preferred age range?I select25–35. Firmly. No one who thinks of TikTok as “for the youth,” and no one who still lives with their parents “to save money.”
Who would you like to connect with?
? Men
? Women
? Both
I checkMen, and the app gives a pleasant littledinglike I’ve just cast a spell or summoned a demon. Hard to say which.
The screen reads:Finding someone to talk to…
