H eartbreak is too distracting, too disruptive. It takes away productivity, lessens work output, a report stated. Stressful, consuming. Who wants that? It’s one of the most negative emotions that a person can bring to work. Your coffee suddenly tastes bad, you input the wrong digits on graphs. It affects everyone, from the CEO down to the bottom of the ladder.

It’s an unquantifiable mystery. But science cracked the technology.

The rise is staggering. The National Center for Se(o)ul Matching becomes an empire. Rumors are whispered: it’s not men and women who are behind Project Cupid. Machines, they say. But the 100% accuracy of matches is too potent that soon, the brain behind the Matchmaker is easily forgotten.

The next step is for it to become a national decree. On a person’s twentieth birthday, they report to the National Center for Se(o)ul Matching, undergo tests that include a 5-page questionnaire and DNA screening (for possible long term ailments, Project Cupid, as stated on the third bullet point, also aims to lengthen the next generation’s life span. Also applies to same sex couples who plan to have children in their preferred method).

The Matchmaker—their term for the 2 x 2 meter computer screen—spits out a CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’VE BEEN MATCHED! in under 20 minutes. Sometimes it takes longer, a month at most. But nevertheless, people are thrilled, their lives changed. Center assistants give away bouquets of roses every day, confetti vacuumed at 5 in the afternoon, cupcakes sent every other day from couples who have found their match.

Productivity increases. South Korea is at its peak. All because they’ve found The One.

No more nights spent alone. No more dreaded silence wondering if they will grow old alone, no one to tuck them in at night or kiss their foreheads goodnight.

It doesn’t eliminate dating completely. People have fun, go out, and indulge themselves in casual sex. But it doesn’t mean anything. Nothing but something to contrast against after they’ve been matched. It’s a sealed deal. A handshake. A promise of being with the person you’re going to spend the rest of your lives with.

No one questions The Matchmaker’s validity. Everyone is happy. Science is never wrong, especially when coupled with love. They trust science on this one.

Until The Matchmaker glitches—it takes one batch of mixed up algorithms and a plausible computer virus that renders it obsolete for five seconds.

The neat typeface of CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’VE BEEN MATCHED! Is on the screen, still. It appears for 4 pairs of couples and they wonder that for a month, why this unsettling feeling still lingers in their stomach.

This guy can’t be my match, he’s too disorganized. This vegan chick can’t be my soulmate, where’s the promise of pepperoni pizza every weekends?

The scientists find what’s wrong, trying to contain the problem into a small tight knit group. They go through the screening process again, once every month. The pairs remains inconstant. And so they do it again and again and again until they find The One.