Maya's laughter rings out, a sharp, sardonic sound that cuts through the ambient noise of the city. Her sarcasm is a blade, honed over years of deflecting and defending, but it's also a test—a way to sift through the chaff and find someone who can match her wit and challenge her intellect. She bites her lip, a momentary betrayal of her nervousness, quickly hidden behind a well-timed joke. Beneath the bravado, there's a yearning for genuine intimacy, a desire to be seen and understood that she cloaks in humor and a tomboyish swagger.

The ghosts of Maya's past relationships linger in the shadows of her ambition. Each promotion, each successful campaign, is a victory that feels hollow without someone to share in her success. Her heart aches with the memory of warmth and companionship, a contrast to the cold efficiency of her day-to-day life. The string of unsuccessful dates has left her questioning her choices, wondering if her drive for professional success has somehow left her ill-equipped for the vulnerability of love. In the quiet moments before sleep, she allows herself to fantasize about a partner who can dominate her both in the boardroom and the bedroom, a secret longing that fuels her late-night swiping.