Picture Perfect Boyfriend's Formula

3

The nightclub idea was a total failure.

Though Sierra and I were hyped with the TRPC trophy in my hand, and we planned a small party for the weekend after the little celebration in the office, the clubbing night still was unsatisfactory and a disaster.

Not a single man present in that entire club was my type. A complete bummer. However, since last night, I can't help but think, maybe my type of man does not exist in real life.

I drum my fingers on the desk as Sierra rubs her temple. She did not find her ideal sex god either.

"You know, it's not like I have extremely high standards for men; it's just the average stuff," I grumble, leaning my head to the backrest and gazing up at the ceiling.

"It's ridiculous! The hot ones are douchebags, the average ones are... plain and average, and the ugly ones are downright insecure, toxic pain in the asses," Sierra says.

The door opens and Archer in his navy-blue shirt and usual messy hair walks into the room with the promised coffees.

"Your favorite, iced coffee," he announces as he hands over the cup to me and holds out Sierra's iced mocha in front of her.

"Thanks," I flash him a smile before sipping my drink while Sierra thanks him too.

"Harvey wanted to know if you've decided what you want to work on," Archer says as he rounds the gigantic white desk and flumps on his seat. Putting his black coffee down, he pushes his glasses up before interlacing his fingers together and planting his elbows on the armrest. "Have you?" he asks, cocking his head in curiosity.

I sigh and scratch the top corner of my forehead. "I was thinking about working on giving robots a sense of sympathy... kinda program them to care. Our target audience will be families with toddlers, kids, and hospitals."

"You want them to learn to care?" Sierra asks skeptically. "Don't we already have bots looking after people?"

I nod. "We do. But they're simply robots, incapable of doing anything beyond what their program tells them to do, which is look over kids and hand over the medication on the programmed time. I want to give them an emotion of a sort."

"No one will agree to that project. The chances of dangerous errors are mad high," Archer says.

"It's not. The program will only allow the robot to feel the emotions I code, or allow it to feel. We won't let it learn new emotions, just enhance what it already has. I want it to form bonds, and connections with the people it interacts with... and to only care, sympathize, and offer any sort of emotional support its human needs. Kinda like a friend slash personal therapist."

Archer's brows furrow as he rubs his chin, deep in thought.

"I think it'll be cool if you manage to execute it and not end up building vengeful bots that'll end humanity." Sierra chuckles, shaking her head.

"Leave the coding to the programmers, you just focus on making it sound calming and friendly." I plaster a smile and she rolls her eyes playfully.

She sips her drink and after a long moment of silence, her head shoots up, eyes widening. "Let's sign up on these dating apps," she suggests.

I scrunch up my face and cringe. "Eww no. I don't need any dick pics shoved to my face."

Throwing her head back, she laughs.

Archer glances between us with confusion. "What now?"

Dramatically sighing, I turn to him. "I didn't find anyone last night!"