The Love Algorithm

Chapter 5: Fault Lines and First Matches

Est didn't believe in glitches.

If something behaved strangely, there was always a cause. Faulty input. Misaligned data. Human error. The system didn't just "act weird."

But today, the system was definitely acting weird.

He stared at the screen, eyes scanning the results from the morning's compatibility batch. Everything looked fine on the surface—until he hit Match ID #377B.

Compatibility Score: 98.3%
Subject A: Est Supha
Subject B: William Jakapatr

Est froze.

He blinked. Refreshed the tab. Then reopened the results manually from the database log. Same thing.

He checked the training inputs. The anonymized profile William had filled out as a sample interviewee two days ago was properly flagged. It should've been scrubbed from the results.

But the system had matched them anyway. Not just a low-confidence match, either.

Ninety-eight point three.

That was... absurd.

Est sat back, his heartbeat annoyingly noticeable in his chest. He could hear William humming off-tune from the kitchenette, probably refilling his iced coffee and munching on another sugar-glazed donut. Unbothered. Completely unaware that, according to cold, hard logic, they were nearly a perfect match.

The door to the fridge clicked shut. Footsteps padded toward Est's desk.

"Yo, love wizard," William said. "You busy or pretending to be busy?"

Est didn't answer.

William stopped mid-sip. "Uh oh. That's your murder face."

"It's not a murder face."

William leaned over. "Okay, it's your 'the code betrayed me' face. What happened?"

Est hesitated. He wasn't used to... explaining. Or admitting errors. Or feeling like the algorithm had taken a step he didn't authorize.

So instead, he asked: "You filled out a compatibility survey?"

William grinned. "Yeah. Santa asked me to. Said it'd be fun to see what the love machine thought of me."

Est turned the screen so William could see.

The moment William spotted the names and numbers, he choked on his coffee. "Wait. Hold on. Is this...?"

"Yes."

"Is this us?"

Est nodded stiffly. "The algorithm ran a batch overnight. You were mistakenly included."

William wiped his mouth. "Mistakenly?"

"You weren't in the control group. You're not part of the user dataset. It shouldn't have processed your input."

"And yet..."

"Ninety-eight point three percent," Est said quietly.

William stared at the number.

"Well damn," he muttered. "Didn't think I'd get that high even with someone who liked me."

Est tried to stay still. Calm. Analytical.

"I'm removing the result from the dataset," he said. "It's invalid."

"But it's also... kind of amazing, right?" William said, half-laughing. "I mean, we don't even get along that well."

"We don't not get along," Est said before he could stop himself.

William blinked, surprised. "Was that... a compliment?"

"It was a statement."

"Uh huh."

They stood in silence for a moment.

Est could feel the air thicken between them—not tense exactly, but charged, like the room was waiting for one of them to say something that would change the shape of the moment.

William finally broke the quiet. "You ever wonder what'd happen if you just... trusted the result?"

Est frowned. "That's not how models work. You don't 'trust' them. You test, validate, refine."

"Right," William said. "But what if one day, it's not about the model. What if it's about you?"

Est opened his mouth, but William raised a finger. "Don't answer that now. Just... think about it."

With that, William wandered back toward the couch and pulled out his sketchbook. Today, he wasn't sketching photos—he was doodling people. Est could see little cartoon versions of them arguing next to a heart-shaped graph. The Est character had a speech bubble that said, "Invalid input."

Est didn't know whether to laugh or shut the laptop.

Instead, he opened a private file and entered a new log entry:

⸻

Model Note – Internal Observation
Time: 10:42 AM
Event: Unexpected Match Output
Subjects: Researcher & Media Liaison
Confidence Score: 98.3%
Initial Action: Flagged for anomaly
Current Action: Observing. Not deleting.
Personal Response: Unsettled. Curious. Possibly... affected.

⸻

That afternoon, while reviewing user interviews, Est barely noticed time pass. William had fallen asleep on the couch, curled up with one arm behind his head, the sketchbook resting on his chest.

The whiteboard still had his silly doodles on it.

Est looked at them for a long time, then reached for the marker and added one line underneath:

"Subject B introduces unpredictable energy into controlled environment."

And next to it, just below the little cartoon Est's frown, he drew a small heart.

Then quickly erased it.

But William stirred, half-asleep, and mumbled, "I saw that."

Est didn't respond.

Because, for once, he didn't know what to say.

And that was the real glitch in the system.