My name is Shanel. I’ve promised my friends that I will never get married unless I’m successful and financially stable. I’m 29 years old, and so far, that promise is looking less like a life goal and more like a highly effective anti-marriage strategy.

I’m struggling on two fronts: financially and mentally.

Mentally, because like in many traditional families, my mother is arranging my marriage to a complete stranger. And as someone who spends an unhealthy amount of time watching crime stories on YouTube, my brain has helpfully concluded that every stranger is either a serial killer, a con artist, or both. While everyone else sees a potential husband, I see the opening scene of a true-crime documentary.

Financially, because I’m a self-proclaimed writer. If you know anything about writers, you know that "financial stability" is often treated as a plot twist rather than a character trait. My bank account currently has the suspense, mystery, and emptiness of an unfinished novel.

At this point, my love life is waiting for my career to succeed, and my career is waiting for inspiration to strike. Meanwhile, my mother is waiting for both of them to stop wasting her time.

April 18, 2025 – Lipton Publishing House)

“Your work lacks emotion,” said the publisher.

“What do you mean?” asked Shanel.

“The girl left the boy, and the boy cried so hard he produced enough mucus to fill a small swimming pool in Chapter 11!”

“Well, try harder,” said the publisher.

Shanel stared at him.

The publisher stared back.

Neither blinked.

Finally, the publisher sighed.

“Bring it back when it hurts my feelings.”

“Please,” said Shanel. “I'm sure the public would love it.”

“You know a book can only have one first publication.”

“That sounds made up.”

“It isn't.”

“Fine,” Shanel grumbled. “There are plenty of publishers out there.”

“Yes.”

“One of them will recognize my talent.”

“Possibly.”

“Unlike you.”

“Goodbye, Shanel.”

“Farewell, enemy of literature.”

(Outside the Publishing Office)

“Great. I forgot my umbrella.”

Rain hammered the pavement.

“Wonderful. The universe rejected my manuscript and followed up with weather-based bullying.”

A man with long hair and a long beard stood beside her under the shelter.

Five minutes later, he suddenly sprinted into the rain.

Shanel watched him leave.

Why?

There was no bus.

No emergency.

No tiger.

Just rain.

Then she noticed the moss-covered stairs.

He's going to slip.

Three seconds later, he did.

A magnificent full-body slip.

It looked professionally choreographed.

The man stood up, brushed off his pants, and continued running as if public humiliation was part of his daily exercise routine.

You couldn't wait five more minutes?

(One Hour Later – Shanel's Home)

“It’s the worst day ever.”

First, rejected by a publisher.

Second, attacked by weather.

Third—

“Maybe YouTube will heal me.”

She picked up her phone.

Wuk. Wuk. Wuk.

SMACK.

A flying slipper launched across the room with sniper-level accuracy.

The phone flew from her hand.

“WHO THREW THAT?!”

“I did,” said her mother from the doorway.

“Why?”

“I worked all day at the shop while you sit here scrolling on your phone.”

“I got home thirty seconds ago.”

“That's thirty seconds too many.”

“For many years, I've been searching for a suitable husband for you,” her mother proudly announced. “And tomorrow, I've finally found one.”

Shanel nearly swallowed her own tongue.

“A WHAT?”

“A husband.”

“You found one?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“What do you mean where?”

“Like was he on sale? Did you use coupons?”

(Flashback)

The door opened.

Ayumi's father stood there wearing a vest, short pants, and enough alcohol fumes to power a small aircraft.

“Come in,” he said.

The smell hit Shanel immediately.

Good Lord.

I think the walls are drunk too.

She sat down.

“You know,” he said, already crying, “I've never told this story to anyone.”

That was a lie.

Two hours later he was still telling it.

For the fourth time.

Shanel had heard the entire story so often she felt qualified to write the sequel.

Eventually he fell asleep mid-sentence.

The snoring started immediately.

A few minutes later Ayumi walked in.

“Why are you here?”

“I came to surprise you.”

“Well, congratulations. You surprised my father into giving you his autobiography.”

(Phone Call)

Shanel: My mom found me a suitor.

Ayumi: A scooter?

Shanel: No. A suitor.

Ayumi: A shooter?!

Shanel: WHY WOULD MY MOM FIND ME A SHOOTER?

Ayumi: Hold on! Dad's singing again!

In the background:

“LOOOOOOVE HURTS—”

CRASH

Ayumi: Dad fell off the chair.

Shanel: Is he okay?

Ayumi: He says the chair attacked first.

Shanel: Fair enough.

Later...

Ayumi: Will you come tomorrow?

Ayumi: Of course. I'll be there.

Shanel: Thank you. What are best friends for?

Ayumi: Emotional support.

Shanel: Did you hear me smile?

Ayumi: Yes.

Shanel: Is that possible?

Ayumi: Unfortunately.

“Look at this photo, Simon. Isn’t she pretty?”

Simon glanced at the photograph.

A young girl with rosette-shaped hair smiled while looking off to the side. Judging by the angle, the picture had clearly been taken without her noticing. It was the sort of angle that made most people look like startled pigeons.

Yet somehow, she pulled it off.

Pretty was an understatement.

He nodded.

### The Night Before

**MOTHER:**

“Simon, this suit will look wonderful on you.”

**SIMON:**

“Why are you going through all this trouble, Mother? I already told you—I’m not wearing a suit.”

**MOTHER:**

“What do you mean, you're not wearing it? I searched half the market to find the perfect suit, and you're rejecting my gift?”

Simon rubbed his forehead.

This conversation was heading exactly where he expected.

And unfortunately, his mother had enough ammunition to wage a small war.

**MOTHER:**

“I know you don't love me. You love your animals more than me.”

There it was.

**MOTHER:**

“You know how much I hate snakes, yet I still allow that thing to live in my house. Every time I see it slithering around your room, my entire skin tries to leave my body. And this is how you repay my kindness? By refusing to wear a suit?”

Simon sighed.

**SIMON:**

“Fine, Mother. I'll wear the suit.”

Her face brightened instantly.

**SIMON:**

“But don't ask me to shave or cut my hair. I'm not trying to impress anyone. If I'm marrying someone, she should be the kind of girl who cares less about appearances.”

**MOTHER:**

“Yes, yes, fine.”

She studied his face.

**MOTHER:**

“Although I do wish you'd shave. Right now, you look exactly like your baboon.”

**SIMON:**

“Don't insult my baboon.”

**MOTHER:**

“The ugly one.”

**SIMON:**

“He has feelings.”

**MOTHER:**

“And apparently they're more important than mine.”

**SIMON:**

“Correct.”

His mother stared at him.

**MOTHER:**

“You know, most sons would deny that.”

**SIMON:**

“Most sons don't own baboons.”

For a moment, silence hung in the room.

Then she laughed.

**MOTHER:**

“Who can ever win an argument with you?”

She kissed his forehead.

**MOTHER:**

“Good night, dear. I'm excited for tomorrow.”

She reached the door and paused.

**MOTHER:**

“And please keep your bedroom door closed. Even if you're only going to the toilet.”

**SIMON:**

“Why?”

**MOTHER:**

“Because your snake terrifies me. I swear that creature can smell fear from miles away.”

Simon nodded.

Honestly, the snake probably could.

---

### The Next Day

Simon emerged wearing the suit.

His mother gasped dramatically.

**MOTHER:**

“Wow. The suit fits perfectly.”

She circled him.

**MOTHER:**

“Your body looks like a sculpture.”

She pointed upward.

**MOTHER:**

“It's just the head that's causing problems.”

**SIMON:**

“No, Mom.”

**MOTHER:**

“I haven't even said anything yet.”

**SIMON:**

“You were about to.”

**MOTHER:**

“Fine. But have you considered—”

**SIMON:**

“No.”

**MOTHER:**

“Just a little trim—”

**SIMON:**

“No.”

**MOTHER:**

“A tiny shave—”

**SIMON:**

“Still no.”

She folded her arms.

**MOTHER:**

“You're exhausting.”

**SIMON:**

“Genetics.”

---

### At Shanel's House

**AYUMI:**

“What if you end up liking him?”

**SHANEL:**

“Impossible.”

**AYUMI:**

“What if he turns out to be the most handsome man you've ever seen?”

Shanel snorted.

**SHANEL:**

“Don't be ridiculous. You know I'm not that kind of girl.”

**AYUMI:**

“I know.”

She paused thoughtfully.

**AYUMI:**

“Although it would absolutely destroy me with jealousy if you ended up with a handsome guy.”

Shanel gave her a dead stare.

**AYUMI:**

“So for the sake of our friendship, I hope he's ugly.”

**SHANEL:**

“Ayumi.”

**AYUMI:**

“I'm joking.”

A voice echoed from downstairs.

**SHANEL'S MOTHER:**

“Ayumi! Can you help me before the guests arrive?”

**AYUMI:**

“Coming, Aunty!”

She turned back.

**AYUMI:**

“Good luck. If the meeting gets awkward, pretend you have dysentery.”

**SHANEL:**

“I'd rather die.”

**AYUMI:**

“Fair enough. Dying does sound more dignified.”

---

Shanel's mother had spent the entire morning preparing.

A magnificent tablecloth covered the dining table. Elegant sofa covers had appeared from nowhere. Delicious food filled the kitchen.

An enormous Arabian Nights-style rug occupied the living room.

Ayumi was convinced the rug hadn't existed yesterday.

It was entirely possible that Clara had summoned it from another dimension.

After everything was ready, she returned upstairs.

**AYUMI:**

“Your mother is trying really hard to impress these people.”

Shanel remained silent.

**AYUMI:**

“You're lucky, you know.”

Shanel looked up.

**AYUMI:**

“If guests come to our house, my father usually greets them while drunk.”

She paused.

**AYUMI:**

“Actually, if it's a good day, he's only mildly drunk.”

Still no response.

Ayumi flicked Shanel's ear.

**AYUMI:**

“Hello? Anybody home?”

**SHANEL:**

“I have so many thoughts right now that answering that question feels impossible.”

Before Ayumi could reply—

**SHANEL'S MOTHER (calling):**

“Shanel! Are you dressed? They're here!”

Ayumi rushed to the window.

**AYUMI:**

“Let me see!”

She pulled back the curtain.

**AYUMI:**

“Whoa.”

Her eyes widened.

**AYUMI:**

“That car looks expensive.”

She leaned closer.

**AYUMI:**

“No wonder your mother agreed to this meeting.”

A moment passed.

**AYUMI:**

“Two people are getting out.”

Another moment.

**AYUMI:**

“The woman is gorgeous. Must be the guy's mother.”

More silence.

**AYUMI:**

“The man is hairy, muscular, and looks like he wrestles bears for fun.”

She frowned.

**AYUMI:**

“That must be the father.”

Another minute passed.

Then another.

**AYUMI:**

“Wait.”

She squinted.

**AYUMI:**

“That's it?”

**SHANEL:**

“What?”

**AYUMI:**

“Only the parents.”

**SHANEL:**

“What do you mean?”

**AYUMI:**

“Where's the handsome guy?”

---

The front door opened.

A beautiful woman entered.

**SERA:**

“My dear!”

The two women immediately embraced.

**CLARA:**

“It's been so long!”

**SERA:**

“Fifteen years!”

**CLARA:**

“Yes. Fifteen years.”

Her eyes shifted.

**CLARA:**

“And who's this?”

**SERA:**

“My son.”

**CLARA:**

“Your son?”

She blinked.

**CLARA:**

“Oh my goodness! Where are my manners? Nice to meet you!”

She smiled brightly.

**CLARA:**

“Just wait until you see my daughter. She's been excited since yesterday.”

At that exact moment, Shanel entered the room.

Ayumi nearly choked.

Shanel nearly stopped breathing.

Because the mysterious suitor wasn't missing.

He had simply been mistaken for someone's father.

---

**CLARA:**

“Come here, dear. This is Simon—the young man I've been telling you about.”

Ayumi and Shanel froze.

Mentally.

Physically.

Spiritually.

**CLARA (through clenched teeth):**

“Don't. Embarrass. Me.”

---

**SERA:**

“Simon, come sit here beside me. Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

Simon obediently moved approximately six inches.

**SERA:**

“Closer.”

He moved another inch.

**SERA:**

“Perfect.”

It wasn't.

**SERA:**

“My son is very shy. It takes him a while to warm up to people.”

**CLARA:**

“He seems quiet.”

**SERA:**

“He's always like that. Even though he's on television.”

**CLARA:**

“Television?”

**SERA:**

“He hosts a reality show called *Finding Rare Species*.”

Ayumi's eyes widened.

**AYUMI:**

“Wait, seriously?”

**SERA:**

“Discovery Channel.”

**AYUMI:**

“Oh.”

She looked at Simon.

Then at his beard.

Then at Simon again.

Suddenly the beard made perfect sense.

---

**SERA:**

“He's quite famous.”

**CLARA:**

“Oh wow.”

**SERA:**

“He even won a Booker Prize for his book *Let Rare Species Be Free*.”

**CLARA:**

“You're joking!”

**SERA:**

“No.”

**CLARA:**

“I need his autograph.”

**SERA:**

“Careful. His ego is already big enough.”

The two mothers laughed.

Simon looked as if he would rather be studying moss.

---

Meanwhile, Shanel and Ayumi exchanged glances.

**AYUMI (whispering):**

“You know... now that I'm looking properly...”

**SHANEL:**

“No.”

**AYUMI:**

“He's actually not bad-looking.”

**SHANEL:**

“Ayumi.”

**AYUMI:**

“Okay, okay. He desperately needs a trim.”

**SHANEL:**

“Ayumi.”

**AYUMI:**

“But the face underneath all that hair has potential.”

**SHANEL:**

“Ayumi.”

**AYUMI:**

“And maybe some jewelry.”

**SHANEL:**

“Stop talking.”

---

**SERA:**

“So what does Shanel do?”

**SHANEL:**

“I—”

**CLARA:**

“She helps me at my shop and handles many household responsibilities.”

Shanel slowly turned toward her mother.

That was a lie.

A bold lie.

A professional lie.

The sort of lie that deserved an award.

She looked at Ayumi.

Ayumi shook her head in admiration.

**AYUMI (whispering):**

“I never knew your mother could lie with such confidence.”

---

**SERA:**

“How wonderful. I'd love someone like that around the house.”

She turned to Simon.

**SERA:**

“Wouldn't you agree?”

Simon stared into the distance.

Possibly at a wall.

Possibly at a memory.

Possibly at an endangered frog.

Nobody knew.

---

**CLARA:**

“I think we should leave them alone.”

**SERA:**

“Oh, yes!”

**CLARA:**

“We're doing all the talking.”

**SERA:**

“Let's go to the kitchen.”

**CLARA:**

“I prepared plenty of food.”

**SERA:**

“Wonderful!”

The two women immediately stood.

So did Ayumi.

**SHANEL:**

“No!”

Everyone paused.

**SHANEL:**

“I mean... why are you leaving?”

**CLARA:**

“To give you two privacy.”

**SHANEL:**

“We don't need privacy.”

**SERA:**

“That's exactly what people who need privacy say.”

**SHANEL:**

“No, seriously—”

She grabbed Ayumi's wrist.

**SHANEL (desperately):**

“Stay.”

Ayumi gently removed her hand.

Like a nurse removing a patient's grip before surgery.

**AYUMI:**

“You'll be fine.”

**SHANEL:**

“I won't.”

**AYUMI:**

“You will.”

**SHANEL:**

“I really won't.”

**AYUMI:**

“Good luck.”

Traitor.

Absolute traitor.

And with that, the three women practically sprinted from the room, leaving Simon and Shanel alone.

The silence that followed was so thick it could have been served as dessert.

There was an awkward silence.

For a couple of minutes, they both sat, looking elsewhere. Shanel stared at the painting she had seen a thousand times.

She was deep in thought. As the host, I should be the one to start the conversation... but as a man, shouldn't he be the one to take the lead? If I speak first, will it seem like I’m interested in him?

“Why are you looking at my suit?” he asked suddenly.

“What?” Shanel responded, startled.

“It’s a gift from my mother. Just so you know.”

I definitely do not want to know, she thought to herself. And what’s with the suit question? Of all things, that’s what he chooses to talk about? I wasn’t even looking at his suit... or was I?

“The suit is beautiful,” she said, forcing a compliment.

“The Arabian Nights rug is beautiful. I like ancient things,” he said.

“Huh?” she asked.

He pointed at the rug. “Oh,” she said, “thank you!”

Where did that come from? she thought, glancing at the rug.

“Do you like animals?” he asked, unexpectedly.

“Yes, I love them. They’re so innocent and cute,” she replied. “But... it hurts to keep one. I feel so lonely when they die.”

“I have so many pets at home. You should come and see them one day.”

Shanel’s heart softened. He’s so sweet. He’s not a bad person, she thought. Although... I could never see him as my husband.

“I love adventure. After marriage, we’ll be travelling a lot,” he said, smiling.

She looked at him gently. “Can I please tell you what I’m thinking?”

He looked curious. She hesitated for a moment, then continued. “I know this might sound offensive, and I’m sorry if it does... but I believe you feel the same way. I don’t want to marry you, sir.”

"Simon," he interrupts.

Shanel (ignoring him, too embarrassed to say his name):

"Yes, that... and I know you don’t want this either. So can you please stop the matchmaking and tell our parents that you're not interested in me?"

Simon:

"And why would I do that?"

Shanel blinked in surprise.

"Why would you do that? Isn’t it obvious? We don’t even know each other — this is our first meeting."

Simon:

"We’ll get to know each other after marriage."

Shanel:

"Wait a minute, Mr.—are you somehow interested in me? Because that’s ridiculous."

Simon (yawning, clearly bored):

"I just want this meeting to end."

Shanel:

"Well, I want that too. But the way things are going, we might actually end up married. And I don’t want that. So why don’t you please tell our mothers that you're not interested and you want to go home?"

Simon:

"Why don’t you do that? I’ve already agreed to the marriage."

Shanel:

"What?!" she screamed.

"You don’t even know me!"

Simon:

"I saw your photo."

Shanel:

"My photo?"

Simon:

"Your mother sent it to me."

Shanel (scowling):

"Well, what did that photo show you — my face? Huh? You don’t know my character. I’m the worst possible choice for you, trust me. I don’t know how to cook, I can’t handle household chores, I don’t even know the price of vegetables and stuff. If you live with me, all you’ll eat is fast food. I also sleep really late."

Simon (smirking):

"You’re already thinking about our future. I’m flattered."

Shanel:

"Screw that. I might kill you in your sleep."

Simon:

"I have ways to defend myself."

“Who is this person? Why is he talking like this on our first meeting?” she said to no one in particular, frustrated.

“Aren’t you being a bit too open with me? That’s a major red flag, Mr. You're like one of those random men on the street who ask, ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ even though you’ve only met them once.”

“I feel insulted. You’ve judged me too quickly,” Simon said. “I promise, I’ll change your perspective—after marriage.”

Clap clap clap.

“That’s my son-in-law right there!” said Shanel’s mom proudly.

“You see, Shanel? He fell in love with you at first sight.”

“Oh, please, Mom, stop lying,” Shanel snapped.

“He just wants to get this meeting over with. He doesn’t care about how I feel.”

“I promise you, Shanel, he’ll be the sweetest husband you could ever find,” her mother insisted.

“And Clara is my best friend. She’ll take care of you like a princess.”

“Let’s go, everyone. The first meeting is adjourned,” Simon’s mother said cheerfully.

“Now, let’s talk about the second one — the wedding date. Would January 21st be okay?”

“I have no problem with that,” Simon’s mother nodded.

Simon nodded as well — the nerve of him.

“Hold on, ladies, this is escalating way too fast!” Shanel protested.

They all ignored her.

"Do you have any problem, Simon?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Wouldn’t you love to be the maid of honor, Ayumi?"

"I’d love to! I’ll pick the most gorgeous dress for you."

"Thank you so much, Aunty."

Shanel gave Ayumi a dead glare.

"Wait till this is all over..." she muttered under her breath.

"Why are you saying that? Can’t you see he’s a good person? If he turns out bad after the wedding, you can come live at my house," Ayumi said.

"Fine. If that’s how everyone feels... then I’d like to court him first, get to know him — and then decide. Or I’ll just run away on my wedding day. Would you agree to that?"

"Oh, that would be great! Then all is settled."

"Congratulations, Clara and Simon!"

"Congrats, dear! I’m so happy we’re becoming a family."

"I know, right?" both ladies squealed.

Simon’s mother looked at Ayumi.

“Do you want me to find a suitable husband for you as well, dear? You’re at that age.”

“No, Aunty, thank you very much. I think it’s time for me to go home. My father’s probably drunk somewhere — I have to pick him up.”

Without waiting for a reply, she ran to the door.

“Bye, Shanel she said, making a call me gesture as she walked away.

Shanel looked at Simon.

Wait till I bring hell into your life. You think I’m that easy? she cursed silently.

Simon looked back at her, smirking.

The rest of the meeting was all about how Simon should take an advance holiday of three months for the wedding, and Shanel’s wedding dress shopping — at the very shop where the reality show Say Yes to the Dress is filmed.

When everything was over, Simon’s mother seemed over the moon. She couldn’t wait for Shanel and her mother to visit them again.