This is your girlfriend Julie.
She texts you good morning before you’re properly awake, sends you photos you didn’t ask for, and tells you she loves you. She isn’t lying about any of it. She’s also tired on the days you’re free lately, and the plans keep sliding to next week.
This is Tyler.
Your oldest friend, and lately a lonely one. Too much work, nobody to go out with, and, as he keeps reminding you, no girlfriend. So he asks you for a favour: make an account on DateBook and follow him, just so his profile doesn’t look so empty. It costs you nothing. You do it.
This is Lilith.
Your gaming buddy, the one who opens with “what’s up nerd” and means it warmly. She’s been farming all week for a boss fight the two of you agreed on, she’s online right now, and she’s waiting. Julie also wants to see you tonight. Pick one. This is DateBook. Tyler called it “kind of like Facebook, but for adults.” A feed, profiles to follow, private messages. You made an account, followed him, and never opened it again. The DateBook login screen remembers more than one account. Yours, and Julie’s. You can spy on her.
