Nick adjusted his hoodie and glanced at his phone again.
"3 PM. Meet her at the central fountain. Her name is Sylvia. Just go say hi."
The message was short, sent by a friend who swore this girl would be "his type." Still, Nick wasn't sure why he agreed. Blind dates weren't exactly his thing. Especially not in a crowded park.
He sighed and looked up. Spring had dressed the park in its softest pastels—cherry blossoms dancing on the breeze, couples lounging on benches, and laughter echoing from a nearby playground.
"Alright… let's get this over with."
He spotted a girl sitting by the fountain, book in hand. She looked up every now and then, as if expecting someone.
"Reading. That has to be her," Nick thought.
He approached slowly.
"Hey… are you Sylvia?"
The girl looked up, blinking once before smiling warmly. "That's me. You must be Nick?"
Relief flooded him. "Yeah."
A few hundred meters away, Patrick was already late—but grinning. He tucked his phone into his pocket, walking fast, shoes crunching lightly on the gravel path.
"Her name's Sylviane," he muttered, scanning the park. "Okay, let's find this mystery girl."
Then he saw her—sitting under a tree, sketching something in a notebook. Hair tied up, a soft breeze brushing her cheek.
"Yup. That's her. Definitely artsy."
He walked up with a charming grin. "Sylviane?"
She looked up, startled, then smiled. "Hi. Patrick, right?"
"You got it."
He sat down beside her, already launching into light conversation. "So, do you draw strangers often, or just the ones lucky enough to match with you?"
She laughed, a soft and genuine sound. "Only the ones who don't mind being turned into stick figures."
And just like that, the mix-up was complete.
They had no idea they were sitting with the wrong people.
But as the hours passed, conversation flowed. Smiles grew more frequent. Hearts, unknowingly, began to drift toward unexpected directions.