How the fuck AI can Generate this?

[Haider Khan]

ChatGPT:​

Out of His League​

Rohan stared at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his collar for the fifth time. Tonight was supposed to be different. He had taken the advice—dressed well, hit the gym, even fixed his posture. But deep down, he knew none of it would matter.


At 26, he had been in the West for four years, working as a software engineer. Back home in India, his family called him successful. In reality, he was invisible.


The dating apps had made that painfully clear. Swipe after swipe, match after match—except there were none. His profile sat untouched, buried under an algorithm that didn’t favor men like him. He had once read that Indian guys were the least desired demographic on Western dating apps. He didn’t want to believe it. Until he experienced it himself.


His friend Jake, an average white guy, had casually shown him Tinder one night. The difference was brutal. Where Jake got matches without effort, Rohan’s inbox was empty. He had tried everything—clever bios, better pictures, even paying for premium. But the outcome was the same: nothing.


Tonight, he was trying a different approach—real-life interaction. A house party. It was his coworker’s idea, a chance to meet people outside of apps.


The place was packed when he arrived, a mix of loud music, drunk laughter, and groups of people talking. He spotted Ethan, his British colleague, already deep in conversation with a blonde girl. Rohan forced himself to join the crowd, making small talk, trying to blend in.


It didn’t take long to notice the pattern. When he spoke, people nodded politely but soon drifted away. When he tried to join a conversation with a group of girls, they smiled out of courtesy but kept their focus elsewhere. He wasn’t rude, he wasn’t weird—he just wasn’t on their radar.


Then there was Liam, another coworker, not particularly good-looking but confident, cracking jokes. The women laughed, leaned in. Rohan had heard the phrase before: "Just be confident, bro." But confidence only worked if they found you attractive to begin with.


Later that night, he overheard a drunk girl complaining to her friend. “Ugh, why are there so many weird guys at this party?”


He knew.


By the time he left, Ethan had gotten a girl's number. Liam had left with someone. Rohan walked home alone.


He deleted Tinder that night.

 

[Haider Khan]

Between Two Worlds​

Leila had learned to live a double life.


By day, she was the perfect daughter—polite, ambitious, family-oriented. The kind of Iranian girl who made her parents proud. She wore modest clothes when visiting home, spoke Farsi fluently, and never mentioned dating. To her relatives, she was a "good girl" focused on her master's degree, too busy for distractions.


But by night, she was someone else entirely.


The moment she stepped out of her London flat, she became Leila, the woman she wanted to be. In Western clothes—tight jeans, a low-cut top—she blended in with the other women in the city. And when she walked into bars, men noticed her. Not in the way they stared back in Tehran, with judgment or restraint, but with open interest. Desire.


She had discovered this power early on. In university, when she first kissed a boy at a party, she realized the rules were different here. There were no whispered rumors, no risks to her family's reputation. Here, she could experiment, explore, be.


But it wasn’t always easy. Some men exoticized her. "I love Persian women," they'd say, as if she were a rare spice. Others asked if she was "allowed" to be dating. Then there were the Iranian guys she met in the West—some open-minded, others judging her while chasing Western women themselves.


Sex was still complicated. She had been raised to see it as something serious, almost sacred. Even now, casual encounters left her with a strange guilt, a voice in her head reminding her of everything she had been taught. But the loneliness of restraint was worse. She had needs, desires, and she refused to be trapped by expectations she no longer believed in.


Her relationships were short-lived. Western men found her intriguing but didn’t always understand her. Iranian men wanted a balance she couldn’t provide. She existed in between—too liberated for some, too traditional for others.


And so, after every night out, after every date that led nowhere, she found herself walking home alone, wondering if she would ever belong anywhere completely.