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Phil really didn’t get why they even had the sign. It didn’t make any sense to him. He had seen the standard McDonald’s “Over 99 billion customers served” signs, of course, but the local diner he worked at had put a spin on their sign, and it didn’t fully make sense to Phil. Instead of it being about how many customers they’d served, it was about soulmates.
The sign read: “Matching soulmates daily since 1965”.
Now, Phil could understand the appeal, as soulmates are a big deal, obviously, but he also didn’t understand why that was something the diner advertised so proudly. Sure, love was found there more often than not (the sign wasn’t lying about the daily thing. It was weirdly accurate), but the way soulmates found each other wasn’t exactly... pleasant.
Why would a restaurant want to advertise that at least two people got injured in their establishment every day?
Phil really did get wanting to find your match, your life partner, your other half, since that was all he wanted, too, but he wasn’t exactly excited about the injury part. His arm bore an orange scratch mark, which meant he’d definitely need stitches when he met his soulmate, and would probably pass out from the pain. Phil didn’t like pain.
When he first saw that there was a job opening at the diner, he hadn’t been too sure he wanted to try for it. He knew the soulmates reputation, and had heard of enough matches happening there that he didn’t doubt the accuracy of the rumors, but he wasn’t sure that was something he wanted to risk for himself. If he worked there, he was likely to get injured at work.
He thought knowing where he was probably going to get a significant injury would just make him more anxious about when it might happen, especially since it meant he would meet his soulmate at the same time. Phil reasoned himself into applying for it anyway, trying to convince himself that it was just because he needed the money, but he knew a small part of it was that he really did want to finally meet his soulmate, although he’d never admit that out loud. He was still worried about meeting his soulmate, but, as it turned out, it wasn’t actually all that big of a deal when it eventually happened.
It happened about six months after Phil began working at the diner. It was your average Thursday night, and Phil was sick of working already. He was just finishing up his shift as host, waiting for his coworker to come in and take over so he could go home and wash off all the restaurant grime. No soulmates had been found yet today, despite the fact that the restaurant had been open for almost 12 hours already.
No one was concerned about the multi-decade streak ending, though. They’d had ambulances called in their last few hours of the day enough times to know that 7pm was only the beginning.
It was a relatively slow night, as Thursdays tended to be, so Phil was stood at the host’s stand doodling on a random notepad while waiting for something to happen. He jolted upright when he heard the door open, reached for the menus, and spewed out his welcome spiel.
“Hello, welcome to the-“ he began, but abruptly stopped as he watched the customer trip over nothing, windmill for a second, and then fall headfirst into the host stand with a yelp.
Phil sighed internally. Here come the soulmates of the day, he thought as he sprang into action. All of the employees at the restaurant had been trained in basic first aid since these accidents happened so often.
Pushing the “Injury in the Lobby” button on the host stand to send an alert back to his manager, Phil quickly moved around the stand to see the man, who was now groaning on the floor.
Unfortunately for Phil, his hand got stuck on some of the wood of the host stand because of a loose nail that caught his sleeve. When he tried to pull it away, he just made it worse and scraped his arm along the nail. He cried out in pain, finally getting his sleeve free of the nail, and held his left arm with his right hand. Adrenaline rushing through him. All Phil could do was follow the procedures drilled into his head: push the Injury button after the first injury, then again after the second injury, then help as best you can.
So that’s what Phil did; he reached blindly for the button again and pressed it before turning back to the man still lying on the floor.
“Sir, can you hear me?” he asked through his light-headedness.
He heard a groan resembling a “yes” in response.
“Can you tell me what hurts?”
The man simply pointed at his head, which was bleeding slightly. Phil’s breathing quickened at the sight. He hated seeing blood, absolutely couldn’t stand it. He had a responsibility, however, so he cautiously approached the man and kneeled next to him, still clutching his own arm.
As soon as he got there, however, Phil realized he was in a bit of a predicament. He didn’t want to let go of his arm because he felt like it was comforting him, but he had to in order to be able to properly tend to the man as he awaited extra help. He looked down at his arm again, wondering why it hurt so goddamn much.
Phil’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of red dripping down his arm. Oh yeah, he thought, I scraped it. He felt sluggish and detached all of a sudden, his vision tunneling and the little bit of the room he could still see starting to spin.
“Phil?” he heard distantly. It sounded almost like his manager, but that couldn’t be true. Phil was in bed. Wasn’t he?
He blinked heavily and noticed the blood again. Slowly turning his head, Phil saw the concerned gaze of his manager. “Blood. There’s- there’s blood,” he said, tongue heavy in his mouth. He could feel his head spinning faster. He opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could say anything, the tunnel darkened until his vision went completely black.
When Phil came to, he was disoriented and had a headache. And his arm hurt. Why did his arm hurt?
He looked down at it to find it wrapped in a bandage. He also saw pristine walls and smelled too-clean-to-be-normal air. To his left was another bed, featuring a sleeping man about his height with brown curly hair hanging over a bandage on his head.
Oh. I’m in a hospital, Phil realized. Wait. Why am I in a hospital?
Just as he started to panic again, the door opened and a nurse stepped in.
“Mr. Lester, it’s good to see you awake!”
Phil relaxed a little at the friendly face. “Thanks. I don’t really remember what happened, though?”
“Well, it seems like you cut yourself on a loose nail while at work just after Mr. Howell over here tripped and hit his head.”
“Oh.” Phil thought for a moment, trying to get his still-foggy brain to catch up to the conversation. “Why was I asleep?”
“We believe you fainted at the sight of your own blood. Has that ever happened to you before?”
Phil blushed. It definitely had and was embarrassing every time. He nodded sheepishly before he realized something. “Wait a minute, did you say I injured myself right after he hit his head?” Phil asked, gesturing to the man on the other bed, eyes wide.
The nurse’s eyes twinkled in excitement and amusement. “Yes, yes I did.”
“Oh my god.” Phil whipped his head around to look at the man again. “Is there… you know?”
“When we were treating both of you, we found that your marks perfectly matched your injuries. Congratulations!”
Phil stared at the man in the bed in awe. He didn’t know what else to do. His soulmate, the one person he’d been waiting to meet his whole life, was in the bed next to him, peacefully sleeping. “What’s his name?”
“Daniel Howell,” the nurse supplied. “He’s due for another wake-up call now to monitor his concussion, but you two will make a full recovery.”
All Phil could do was nod. He had stopped paying attention after “Daniel Howell,” and was now inspecting him. He just couldn’t stop staring at the perfect brown curls pushed back by the bandage, the lanky limbs that simultaneously looked elegant and like they were just as problematic and clumsy as Phil’s own, and the pale chapped lips.
The nurse woke Daniel up.
“Mr. Howell?”
The man groaned and opened his eyes. He looked around a little, presumably to get his bearings, and froze when his eyes met Phil’s. “You’re awake,” he gasped.
Phil grinned and nodded. “So are you. It’s nice to meet you.”
Daniel blushed. “You, too.”
The nurse ran the checks on Daniel to make sure he was recovering. When she left, Daniel turned his head towards Phil again.
"Um. Hi," he said. "I'm Dan."
Phil giggled at his awkwardness. "I'm Phil. Are you feeling alright?"
"I kind of have a headache and I feel a bit weird, but I'm okay. You? What happened to you?" Dan’s eyes fell to Phil’s bandaged arm.
"I scratched my arm against a wayward nail on the host's stand. I guess I needed some stitches."
"Oh. Are you okay?"
Dan’s worried expression was both incredibly cute and distressing to Phil. He never wanted to see Dan upset again.
Phil looked away in embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just pass out at the sight of my own blood. I think I saw some of your blood, too, which didn’t really help anything. Seeing your blood was when I first started to feel lightheaded, and then I saw my own blood on my hand and got super dizzy and eventually passed out before I could help you."
"Wow, that sounds awful."
"It wasn't really that bad. I'm okay now. Plus, now we've met, and that's really exciting!"
Dan smiled. "It is, isn't it? I'm really tired, though. I wish we could talk longer but I'm afraid I'll fall asleep on you."
"Oh, no, you rest. I'll be here."
"Okay. We can talk more later, then?"
"Of course!"
With that, Dan smiled at Phil one more time, then closed his eyes and turned away so he could fall asleep. Phil turned his head to rest on his pillow as he stared at the ceiling and listened to Dan’s breathing even out.
Wow. I actually found my soulmate at work. Will I get compensation for the nail thing? I mean, it wasn't really my fault that the stand had a nail sticking out of it, now, was it? I'm just so glad I've met Dan. He seems really nice. I can't wait for us to talk more.
A few hours later, Dan and Phil were discharged from the hospital with strict instructions to rest. They walked out together, arms brushing against each other occasionally.
"I'm glad I met you. I know we haven't really talked yet or gotten to know each other, but I know that I already like you a lot," said Dan.
"I feel the same," said Phil. "Do you want to come with me to my flat so we can talk a bit? I know it's, like, one in the morning, but you could stay over for the night if you want?"
Dan grinned. "That sounds lovely."
They took a cab back to Phil's place, talking quietly about themselves and their interests. When they arrived at Phil's flat, they went inside and sat on his couch to talk some more.
"Why did you come to my restaurant today, by the way?" asked Phil.
"To get some dinner," Dan replied cheekily. Phil sent him an unimpressed look, so Dan continued. "I've always seen the sign about the soulmates, you know? And I figured I might as well give it a shot since I haven’t had any luck finding mine."
Phil nodded. "We get a lot of people coming in because of that sign. I don't really get it sometimes, because we're advertising that at least two people injure themselves in our diner every day, which does not seem healthy, but I think I'm understanding it a bit more now that I've met you. People were always so desperate to meet their soulmates and feel what I'm feeling right now, and I understand."
"What are you feeling now?"
"I'm not really sure, but I know that it's good, and I know that it’s about you."
Dan blushed. "I don't know what I'm feeling, either, but it's definitely a good feeling, too."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, just looking at each other.
"You're really pretty," Phil told Dan, who blushed violently.
"Thank you. I think you're beautiful."
Phil blushed, too. "Thank you." He paused, debating whether or not to say what he was thinking.
"What's wrong?" Dan asked. "Your face just got all serious."
"Nothing! Nothing's wrong, I promise, I just... I wanted to tell you that I think I really like you."
Dan laughed. "Well, given that we're soulmates, I would hope you'd like me at least a little bit."
"No, I mean- god, this sounds childish- I like like you."
Dan's eyes widened, before he grinned. "I like-like you, too."
Phil grinned sheepishly, mostly avoiding eye contact except for a few quick and accidental glances. He couldn’t help it; his soulmate was just so attractive.
“So, um. Now what?” Phil asked.
Giggling, Dan took Phil’s hand. “Now I have a question for you.”
“Oh, okay. What’s the question?”
“Will you be my boyfriend?” Phil’s eyes snapped back to Dan’s and he smiled wider than he thought was possible. “Of course I will.” He scooted closer and cuddled into Dan.
“Good, cuz you’re stuck with me whether you want me or not.”
“Hmm, I think I can live with that.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Phil returned to work the next day, walking Dan to his own flat on the way.
“Phil! Good to have you back!” his manager said.
“Thanks! Sorry I basically skipped the rest of my shift yesterday,” Phil said as he put his hosting apron on.
“Nonsense! You needed stitches for your arm and you met your soulmate! Besides, without you injuring yourself, we would’ve needed to change our sign.”
“Oh, were we the only soulmates yesterday?”
“Yeah. Sticking to our one-a-day streak of the last week, here.”
“Hey, at least it keeps the ambulance from coming twice.”
“Too true, too true. Go on, get to work, then.” Phil’s manager shooed Phil to the front of the restaurant, where he waited for someone to come in.
He didn’t have to wait long, since it was a Friday afternoon and school was just letting out. Students often came for milkshakes after a long week.
A group of giggling teenage girls walked in, and Phil greeted them before taking them to a table.
“Your server will be right with you,” he said, turning to go.
“Wait!” one of the girls piped up. “Real quick, I have a question for you, if that’s okay, that is?”
“Of course!”
“Well, Brittany over here just moved and didn’t believe us when we told her you guys match soulmates daily, so I was wondering if you could give her some recent examples please?”
Phil grinned. Before yesterday, he would’ve had to fake that smile as he rattled off a story he’d told fifty times that week. Now, however, he just remembered Dan.
“Oh, a nonbeliever, I see! Well, how about yesterday’s? A man walked in and immediately tripped over nothing and smacked into the host stand, banging his head pretty hard. I went to help him and scratched my arm on the stand, and now I know my soulmate!” He paused as the girls cooed. “There are plenty of other stories, though, too.”
“Okay, but that could happen anywhere!” one girl, probably Brittany, exclaimed.
Phil nodded in agreement. “These accidents could happen anywhere, that’s true, but they also happen here. You know, every matched employee here actually met their soulmate in this diner. I could also tell you the story of every matched couple this week, really, but that would take a while. Besides, you’re certainly not the first skeptic to walk in here.”
The girl who originally asked him to explain spoke up then. “Thank you for the story! I’m sure we’ll convince her eventually. Congratulations on finding your soulmate!”
“Thank you! I’d better head back to work now, but enjoy your meal!”
Phil smiled again as he stood behind the host stand and looked at the spot where he’d met his soulmate. Maybe the sign on the restaurant was a bit strange, but at least it was true, skeptics-be-damned.
And if Brittany met her soulmate that very day in the diner, well, nobody else had to hear his soft “told you so” as she and her soulmate left with matching grins and bruises.