AuraSwipe

Chapter One

After a long day at Craft Brew Marketing, I dropped my bag by the door, kicked off my shoes, and made my way to the couch. The warm glow of vintage lamps and twinkling string lights draped across the walls created a cozy atmosphere—a much-needed escape from another typical day at the office. My place had that lived-in vibe—a mix of thrift store finds and plants that somehow survived my sporadic care.

Everything was going fine at work. I mean, really fine. The afternoon had ended the same way it always did, with my monitor glowing with another chipper memo from Marketing: 'Congratulations to Hazel Chen for another record-breaking quarter! Our Moon Goddess Matcha Kombucha line is flying off the shelves!' I had minimized it with a sigh. As a graphic designer for a bougie kombucha company with a witchy edge—or at least, that's what the branding team liked to think—I'd mastered the art of making our bottles irresistible to the eye.

Just that morning, I'd sat through another product development meeting where everyone spent forty-five minutes debating the exact shade of purple for our new Mystic Berry blend. I'd already sketched the design during their back-and-forth, and the moment I presented it, they all leaned forward in their chairs, eyes widening. The CEO actually gasped. They didn't know my knack for captivating designs came with a bit of an edge, and honestly, I preferred it that way. It kept my job simple—and my secret safer.

It was all too easy. The old Hazel would have agonized over kerning and color theory, would have felt that rush of pride at nailing a design through pure skill. Now? I could whip up a new label in minutes, knowing it'd be a hit. Just a bit of magic, and boom—another best-seller. The genuine creativity that used to fuel me had been replaced by a kind of autopilot, and the satisfaction I once got from landing a big client or nailing a new concept had started to fade. Part of me wondered if that was why I had started feeling... restless.

My coworker Dani had even noticed. She was sharp--one of those people who could sense when I was a little off, even if I hadn't said a word about it. She'd once called me "eccentric" in a way that was probably meant to be a compliment, but just felt like a polite version of "weird." Not that I minded. I was weird. Maybe that's why she'd suggested I check out AuraSwipe, this dating app that promised to match people based on their auras.

 "You need a change," she'd said, her tone playful and her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I bet you'll find it... fun."

I wasn't sure if Dani was trying to set me up for a wild ride or just poking fun at my quirks, but AuraSwipe had piqued my interest—if only because it sounded so ridiculous. Matching people based on their auras? Yeah, right. Still, the idea had stuck in the back of my mind, lingering like a catchy jingle you couldn't shake. And after another day of making kombucha bottles practically fly off the shelves without breaking a sweat, I was ready for "a change," even if it was just swiping through neon-tinted profiles for a laugh.

Now, I glanced down at my phone, the screen lighting up as I instinctively opened AuraSwipe. The app's logo flashed—a burst of color and swirly shapes that looked like it belonged on one of the knock-off crystal shelves at Mystic Moon Treasures. You know the kind of place—cheap incense that smells more like burnt hair than sage, and a jumble of charms that probably haven't been properly charged since 2005.

I smirked at the whole aesthetic. Spirituality, brought to you by the tech bros of Silicon Valley. It reminded me of the wannabe shamans who strutted around at Burning Man, their faux-feather headdresses flapping in the desert wind as they preached about "alignment" and "chakras" after one weekend of microdosing. AuraSwipe felt like the digital equivalent: part hokey, part fun.

I flicked through the profiles, reading the wild claims people made about their auras. "Calming blue aura," one guy said, though the energy radiating from his profile was more of a jittery orange. "Spiritual lavender," said another, but her aura screamed a dull, anxious gray. The whole thing was like a game—half the amusement was comparing what people thought their auras were to what I could actually see. If nothing else, it was a decent distraction from the monotony that'd become my daily life.

Just then, I came across a profile that stopped me in my tracks. It belonged to a man named Eli, and his aura was gold—not the fake, flashy kind, but a rich, deep hue that radiated calm and confidence, like a person who actually knew what they were all about. His bio was short and simple: "I'm a problem-solver with a passion for helping others find their path. Looking for someone equally grounded but ready to explore." The usual hobbies—hiking, reading, meditating—but the gold aura lingered in my mind.

I swiped right.

Within seconds, a notification popped up: It's a match!

Well, that was fast.

As we started chatting, Eli's messages were thoughtful and unhurried, building the kind of conversation that felt like sipping tea by the fire—warm, cozy, but with a depth to it that kept you wanting more. He even sent me a photo of the book he was reading—"Man and His Symbols" by Carl Jung. Sure, I was already well-versed in archetypes and shadow selves, but it was a refreshing change from the usual fare: guys flashing their abs and claiming it was just a way to show themselves in Lotus position (shirt off, of course).

We made plans to meet up, and as I scrolled back through our conversation, I couldn't help but smile.

"How about we hit up that new café downtown?" I suggested. "The one with the artisanal pastries? The best perk is their coffee, though—you can even throw some reishi in if you're feeling adventurous."

He paused before answering.

"I wish I could, but I work late, even on weekends. I can meet after work, though."

Okay--so, night it was.

Jet blinked at me, completely stone-faced. I scratched behind his ears and laughed. "What do you think, Jet? Am I crazy for meeting a guy from an aura-matching app? Or am I just bored enough to make this a good idea?"

Jet's ears flicked slightly, his tail giving a slow, cautious swish as he narrowed his eyes. It wasn't enough to alarm me, but it felt like he was weighing the situation. Still, I brushed off his reaction—he was always a little wary of new people, and I was too curious to back out now.

I set my phone down on the table, a moment of uncertainty washing over me. Then I picked it back up. I typed, "Let's meet somewhere different—how about a lounge with that whole speakeasy atmosphere? Cocktails, tapas, the whole moody allure."

"Sounds perfect," he replied.

I could feel that spark of excitement bubbling up. Finally, I'd discovered a challenge that wasn't just another polished kombucha label or flawlessly executed campaign. This felt... unknown. Maybe that's what I'd been craving all along.