I'm going to lure Sen back, give him the most mind-bending literature review of his life, and absolutely wreck him with a bad review.
Nothing says I'm over you quite like a meticulously engineered shitpost.
One problem: we're obsessively no-contact.
No texts. No calls. No 2:00 A.M. glass-tapping.
So I used my trusty AI to vibecode a bespoke NSA hookup app, dropped Sen the link through an anonymous burner, and lured him into the dark web using his own hidden kinks against him.
I call it Five Star Me.
SEN
I thought I walked away.
I thought the game was over.
Then I get a ping from an unknown number with a link to a new hookup app: Five Star Me.
The rules are absolute:
No mid-list authors.
No postwar existentialist navel-gazing.
No books translated from the French.
Just a time, a place, and forced-proximity literary criticism.
It's the perfect cover.
It's the perfect trap.
I'm already hooked.
But the collateral for this sexy little experiment is steep: every encounter demands a rating, and anything less than five stars leaves the encounter stuck in ambiguity.
And ambiguity attracts Anna K, Bibliobuddy's mysterious, never-seen enforcer.
Her one-star reviews are only the beginning.
I don't know which turns me on more-the possibility of earning all five stars, or the possibility of finally meeting the woman so dangerous even Tolstoy had to eliminate her.
The only thing I know for sure?
I can't say no.
THE APP RULES1. Use proper grammar.
Failure to distinguish your from you're constitutes informed rejection.
2. Do not use the present participle.
If you're smirking, growling, or padding across the room, you've already lost a star.
3. Leave a five-star review.
4. Failure to review will result in a visit from Anna K.
Anna K may result in Books-A-Million-or worse.
5. Books-A-Million is final.
Names are negotiable. Just ask J.T. LeRoy.
Five Star Me is a standalone, dual-POV, high-angst, unironic satirical thriller where the HEA is a five-star rating.
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