The news anchor's voice, smooth and detached, filled Journey Burch's cramped apartment.
"The Federal Partner Allotment Act enters its final enforcement phase tonight. The Celibacy Tax will be automatically deducted from the accounts of all unregistered single citizens at midnight."
Journey stabbed the power button on the remote.
The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the wheezing groan of the cheap air conditioner unit outside her window.
Her phone screen lit up. A final text from Spencer Knight.
"Journey, it's over. Don't be dramatic. Beatrice and I are a better fit."
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She tossed the phone onto the threadbare sofa. Dramatic? He'd dumped her for a rich girl and had the nerve to call her dramatic.
She flipped open her laptop.
The glowing red number of her bank balance burned her eyes: $217.58.
The Celibacy Tax was twenty percent of her annual income. For a student living on part-time jobs and scholarships, it was a death sentence.
Her phone buzzed again. A video call from her best friend, Kiya Wilcox. Kiya's worried face filled the screen, her neat dorm room a stark contrast to Journey's chaos.
"Are you okay? I saw Spencer's post... that asshole!"
Journey forced a shrug. "I'm fine. Just deciding between selling a kidney or entering that stupid partner lottery."
Kiya gasped. "Are you crazy? It's random! You could get matched with a seventy-year-old or a violent psycho!"
Journey gestured vaguely at her laptop screen. "I don't have a choice, Kiya. I can't afford the tax."
A mandatory pop-up window from the Department of Domestic Affairs filled her computer screen. A ten-minute countdown ticked ominously.
Two options hovered before her: [ACCEPT CELIBACY TAX AGREEMENT] and [ENTER FEDERAL ALLOTMENT LOTTERY POOL].
Her gaze flickered between the two buttons. On the phone, Kiya fell silent, a look of worried resignation on her face.
Journey thought of her father's medical bills, a mountain of debt that crushed her spirit. She couldn't add another burden to her family.
With one minute left, she took a shaky breath.
Her mouse hovered, then clicked.
[ENTER FEDERAL ALLOTMENT LOTTERY POOL].
A progress bar appeared on the screen: "Matching you with your optimal partner..." It felt like a cruel joke.
"What's happening? Who did you get?" Kiya's voice was tight with tension.
Journey shook her head, her heart pounding a frantic, irregular rhythm against her ribs. This was more terrifying than any final exam.
The bar hit 100%.
A simple, electronic file card materialized on the screen. No photo. No name. Just a single line of cold text.
"Congratulations, Ms. Burch. Your federally assigned partner is: ID 1314521."
Journey stared at the string of numbers, a wave of dizziness washing over her.
"What is that? A prison serial number?" Kiya asked, confused.
Journey didn't answer. Her mind was racing. That number... where had she seen it before?
It hit her like a physical blow.
Weeks ago, researching a paper for her economics class, she'd read a Forbes article on the billionaire Dane Beaumont.
The article featured a picture of his private jet. A Gulfstream G700. The tail number, a display of his unique brand of wealth and taste, was flamboyantly registered as "DB-1314521."
DB for Dane Beaumont. And the numbers...
Her fingertips went numb. Her breath caught in her throat. No. It couldn't be. A coincidence. It had to be.
"Journey? Talk to me! Who is that number?" Kiya pressed.
With trembling hands, Journey typed "Dane Beaumont" and "Federal Allotment Lottery" into the search engine.
The first result was a breaking news alert, posted just moments ago.
"SHOCKER! Notorious Bachelor Dane Beaumont Suspected to be in Federal Partner Allotment System!"
A roar filled Journey's ears, and her world turned to black and white.