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On the first day of kindergarten, 5-year-old Mark is given a piece of paper and told to draw what he thinks his soulmate looks like.
Mark tries. He really does. Line after line, trying to picture his face, Mark presses his pencil onto the paper only to rub the whole thing away because he can never get it quite right— either the nose turns out a little crooked, the eyes come out too wide, or the smile drawn out too vibrant . He draws and rubs until the paper wears thin and lined full of pencil imprints from when Mark presses too hard.
When the teacher comes over and tells him that it’s fine to draw a stickman so he can finish and join the kids outside, Mark almost tears up. He shakes his head and asks if he can write instead.
Mark writes about a boy with wings dipped in gold. He flies close to the sun, closer than anyone has ever managed to—but he doesn’t burn or die like he does in Mark’s dream. He does something no one expects him to.
The boy swallows the sun and becomes the brightest star there is.
Of course, Mark doesn’t really believe his soulmate would swallow the sun, neither for himself nor for anyone else.
Jaemin made sure of that when he nonchalantly pointed out Mark’s soulmate would’ve burnt to a crisp before he could even think about swallowing the sun. That was the summer they turned 8. The heat was dizzying, the kind that no amount of ice cream (grape for Mark, matcha for Jaemin) could cool down. Mark remembers it because it was the summer he almost stopped being best friends with Jaemin— the following week, Mark told Jaemin the Tooth Fairy didn’t exist and that it was actually a Tooth Monster crunching and grinding his teeth to dust. That was the first time Mark had ever seen Jaemin cry, and they decided to call it even then.
Still, years later Mark finds himself pondering over the significance of what he wrote. Is his soulmate physically as bright as the sun? It would be useful if he had more to go on, but whenever he closes his eyes, forms a question in his mind (What’s your favourite food? Your favourite movie? What do you think about just before you sleep?) and comes up blank, Mark starts to think maybe his soulmate just doesn’t exist— or even worse, doesn’t want to have anything to do with him. Can you still be soulmates without ever meeting each other, ever? The thought turns out to be too depressing after a while, so he rings Jaemin and is told Jaemin’s time is worth at least three ice creams.
“Did you get my matcha flavour?” Jaemin greets him upon the first doorbell ring. He ignores Mark’s wave and goes straight for the carrier bag, gesturing noncommittally at Mark to come in.
“Hi to you too. How was the exam, Mark? Not great, thanks for not asking,” Mark grumbles to himself, taking his shoes off and heading straight to his favourite spot on the couch. Jaemin’s Netflix is full of cooking programs, and though Mark is usually up for whatever new hyperfixation Jaemin is exploring, right now he’s looking for something a little more lighthearted— what is it? The name of the movie is just on the tip of his tongue…
“Red bean flavour?” Jaemin asks, plopping himself down at the empty spot. He hands the ice cream in question to Mark, a puzzled expression on his face. “Since when did you like red bean?”
Mark looks at the ice cream like it’s the first time he’s seen it. “I have no idea.” He takes the tiny spoon and tastes the ice cream. “Hmm, but it’s not bad. Not really my taste, though.”
Jaemin still has that puzzled look, and even reaches out to press his palm against Mark’s forehead. “You okay? First, you put this on—” He waves at the TV, “Romcom crap, and now you’re changing ice cream flavours? If I knew it was this bad, I would’ve only charged you two ice creams.”
Mark shrugs, laughing it off. Maybe he should be a little concerned (Jaemin rarely gives out discounts) but more than anything, he feels...relief. Summers aren’t so bad after all.
It gets easier after that. The calm before the storm. As all 16th birthdays are.
The thing with soulmates is that no one really knows how they work. Some people have just always known. Others, like Mark, ease into it the way you walk down the beach towards the ocean—
Jaemin lived a free soulmate-less life, right up until he met Jeno.
And then it all came rushing in.
He tells Mark as much one day as they’re sitting on the couch, the ceiling fan rattling above them. Jaemin’s head is nestled on Mark’s lap, his expression unreadable from the reflection off the TV screen.
“And the thing is, it feels like if I had gotten to know Jeno more, I would have probably fallen for him.” Jaemin says, sighing, “But now that I know he is my soulmate, it feels like I have to like him. My future’a set out, just like that in the split second we met. Doesn’t that feel really unfair?”
Mark doesn’t know what to say to that. Nothing in his soulmate Google search could ever prepare him for this, so he passes Jaemin an ice cream cup.
“And like, he just stood there, with this goofy grin on, and comes up to me and says “Hey, you’re my soulmate right?” in the middle of the fucking crossroads! Like— how was I supposed to react to that? How are you even sure? What if you got the wrong guy?”
Mark can’t help but smile at that. Jaemin is usually the more level-headed of them, but as soon as emotions get involved, all his logic goes right out the door. “Well, what do you think of him?”
“I don’t know! He’s...he’s nice— really nice. He smiles a lot. He’s kind of like you, but dumber. Also more cuddly. And spoiled.”
“Well, would he buy you five matcha ice creams without you asking?” Mark teases, leaning down.
He watches in amusement as Jaemin’s eyes grow wide. “I think— I think he’d buy me ten,” Jaemin says, shocked.
Suddenly Jaemin gets up to face Mark, his body crouched and tense as if someone has just run electricity through him.
“He wants to meet again.”
“Ooo...kay,” Mark says, a little taken aback, “and?”
“You have to come, next Saturday.”
“Are you...talking to your soulmate now?” Mark squints, making a vague gesture near his head. “In your head?”
“No!” Jaemin cries, but he’s already stalking off to his room, “And leave the rest of the ice cream!”
Even if he tells himself that it’s really not like the movies, Mark always pictures meeting his soulmate like winning the lottery. First, the shock of having been dealt a one in a million chance; then the surge of euphoria; and finally, spending the rest of your life in a daze because you can’t believe just how damn lucky you are.
Mark normally wouldn’t call himself a hopeless romantic, but there’s a line crossed when he’s exhausted Netflix’s entire romcom collection.
“This is Donghyuck,” Jeno smiles, the ends of his eyes crinkling. “He wanted to meet you guys.”
In reality, the feeling is more like passing a tough audition.
“Hi. Mark. Jaemin’s friend. Really glad to be here.”
There is relief, a brief feeling of elation.
“Uh, yeah. Pleasure’s all mine?”
Then the doubts settle.
“Why do you two sound so weird?” Jaemin asks, looping an arm each around Mark’s and Donghyuck’s shoulders. “We’re just watching a movie, not going to Hogwarts, jeez. Come on, let’s buy some snacks.”
Neither Mark nor Donghyuck break their gazes, even as Jaemin drags Jeno to the food counter. Mark can see it, the recognition scrawled all over Donghyuck’s face.
He wants to smile until his cheeks hurt, to reach out and set this in stone but something about the way Donghyuck’s expression seems to mismatch with his holds him back.
Then it occurs to him that Donghyuck might not know, or might not be ready, that what Mark thought was recognition was just out of politeness.
“We should get going, the movie’s about to start. Does ice cream sound good?”
Donghyuck visibly relaxes at the simple question, like he’s back in his own skin. “I’m wearing white, dumbass.”
Mark raises an eyebrow at that. Still, just to be sure.
“Ah, yeah, red bean ice cream would definitely leave a stain,” Mark throws out, grabbing two bags of caramel popcorn.
Donghyuck’s lips quirk, and it takes everything in Mark not to jump in joy.
It doesn’t sail as smoothly as he imagines, initially.
And, in retrospect, it makes sense. Donghyuck is loud and has opinions on every character in every movie, then whines to hell and back when he loses to Mark in Mario Kart. There’s always a do-over, another race to get the controller, to decide who’s paying for ice cream, to see who can balance more watermelon seeds on their faces.
Life is fast for Donghyuck, sometimes too fast for Mark. When Mark wants to sleep an extra hour, Donghyuck wants to be the first in line for the new Nintendo DS. To get Donghyuck off his back, Mark says something he can’t possibly remember in his stupor, Donghyuck screams something back, and the next thing he knows the door bangs then it’s black.
But when he wakes up an hour later to a quiet house, Mark jumps on the train and gets off 10 minutes later in front of the Nintendo building with coffee and biscuits. Donghyuck is just about to enter the building (the line is still so fucking long) and when he spots Mark he glares daggers. When Donghyuck eyes the hot beverage in Mark’s hand, his face lights up and he doesn’t stop talking about why this new DS is the best one ever.
They go back to Mark’s place; Mark on one end of the couch trying to finish writing this last scene, Donghyuck sprawled on his back on the rest of the couch, trying to hit level 30 on Super Mario Bros. The house is quiet but it’s the kind Mark is comfortable with.
“Sleepover again?”
“Only because your place has good food.”
And the day passes once more.
Once, Mark brings up the topic of soulmates over lunch and Donghyuck completely tenses and ignores him for the rest of the day, so they never talk about it anymore.
Mark really wishes otherwise.
For everything in his life, Mark has always turned to writing as a source of comfort. He’s poured his frustrations out on paper over the two weeks of hell before his first piano recital, recounting the first friend he ever made, and even channelled the anger well enough to write a friend’s assignment on argumentative writing on their behalf, for which he got enough money to buy a new set of earphones (Mark couldn’t sleep for a week from the guilt, and he’s declined further commissions since).
But when it comes to soulmates, suddenly it’s not enough. He may write down his daydreams of walks around the park and more movie dates, but Donghyuck is right there. Right in front of him. Donghyuck, who has scathing commentaries for every movie out there but stays silent when it comes to Mark’s favourites; who buys two red bean ice creams for every grape ice cream, but would fight with a father of two for the last grape ice cream. Donghyuck, who makes running outside in 80% humidity that much more bearable.
It’s better than all his daydreams, and yet...
Jaemin and Jeno break up for the third time this summer in the middle of August.
“Soulmates are shit,” Jaemin is scoffing down a whole tub of Matcha ice cream that Mark and Donghyuck discovered at the bottom of the freezer at their local convenience store. He’s sniffling a lot and looks like he wants to hit something so Mark and Donghyuck squeeze themselves together on the armchair. “N’offence to your best friend Donghyuck, but he’s pretty shit too. Also, shouldn’t you be with him?” Jaemin points the spoon at Donghyuck, en garde.
Donghyuck shrugs, bringing his knees closer to his chest. “He keeps a lot of emotions inside. There’s not much I can do, honestly.”
“Oh, god, don’t get me started. For someone who blabbers ‘You’re my soulmate’ in the middle of fucking traffic, he really sucks at processing any other kind of emotion beyond ‘Yay, I’m happy!’ and ‘Boo, I’m sad.’ “
“You know, Jeno is a really nice guy. I’m just saying!” Mark adds when Jaemin looks like he’s going to catapult ice cream on him. “Maybe he thought what he was doing was for the best, you know? Did you ever talk to him about it?”
“Mark, you’re my best friend not his! And I don’t want a pep talk today, just let me wallow in my sadness.”
“Hey, do you think that happens to everyone?” Donghyuck hands Mark the ladle Jaemin used as a spoon.
“What, breaking up? Yeah, I guess it’s pretty common.” Mark silently takes the ladle and washes it in the sink. They’re in the kitchen cleaning up after Jaemin passed out on the couch from brain freeze.
Donghyuck climbs onto the counter next to the sink, swinging his legs, staring at the living room. “Like, to everyone? Even to Jaemin and Jeno?”
Mark doesn’t catch the implication until he’s finished washing up and turns to see Donghyuck looking at him like he’s been waiting his whole life. His knuckles are almost white from gripping the edge so tightly. Mark knows how this is supposed to pan out: he takes Donghyuck’s hand, massages them, reassures him. What happens after, Mark is blurry on the details. Except this time, Mark is the one that freezes.
“You know what, don’t answer that.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anythi—”
“You were!” Donghyuck jumps off the counter and makes a beeline to the front door, “You had your judgy Mark look on! I know it when I see it!”
Mark would run to the door, except then he has to pass by Jaemin curled up on his couch instead of Donghyuck and that scares him more than he wants to admit.
When Jaemin and Jeno get back together, a week has passed since Mark last spoke to Donghyuck.
Honestly, he really wants to kill them.
“I’m starting to think that ‘breaking up’ is just Jaemin-speak for ‘having a big fight that you don’t want to face.’ “
“Sorry,” And Jaemin really does look very sorry as he serves Mark an apology dish of spaghetti carbonara, “I guess it had to do with me sort of, plunging into things and expecting everything was all set and ready. I don’t know, I thought this whole soulmate thing was like happily ever after, you know?”
Mark would’ve preferred some naengmyun for this unbearably hot weather, but he can’t really complain. There’s no food in his house and he hasn’t had much incentive to go out and buy some. “I guess even soulmates take work.”
Jaemin hums in agreement. “That’s the problem with meeting your soulmate so young. And what about you, how’s things with Donghyuck?”
Mark stops cutting his spaghetti into pieces. “How’d you—”
“Come on, Mark Lee, I’m your best friend, you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Jaemin’s smug face is so fucking annoying right now, but it certainly beats his face with tear-tracks. Mark heaves a sigh and goes back to mutilating his spaghetti “At least someone does,” he murmurs.
“Wait, are you guys not—” Jaemin stops himself after seeing Mark’s expression. “Okay, wrong question. Why? You guys know right?”
“Yeah.” Mark is almost certain Donghyuck knows, and it makes sense to just say it out in the open right? Because soulmates exist so people like him always have something to fall back on. “But what if it doesn’t work out?”
“Mark.”
Jaemin looks at him with so much concern that Mark immediately feels guilty for what he says next: “It’s not like you guys have been the best example of soulmates getting along.”
The hurt in Jaemin’s face is so palpable Mark wishes time travel isn’t just in the sci-fi books he reads. “I’m sorry, Jaem, you know I don’t mean that.”
“Do you remember that movie from 2 years ago? Arrival? The one about aliens and language and how they don’t experience time as linear, but all at once?”
Mark nods, sagely.
“For us time-linear folks a fight feels like forever, because you don’t know when it’ll stop. But if one of those aliens were to look at a snapshot of our entire relationship, the fight we had is just a small blip. Nothing more. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s scary as all hell.”
“And that’s where soulmates come in. Mark, Donghyuck isn’t just a plan B, or a plan C. He’s every plan, Plans A to Z, 1 to infinite. In a life where you can’t even say for certain that something will happen in the future, having a soulmate gives you that little bit of assurance. And I think, for worriers like us, we need that kind of reassurance. We need to let ourselves have it.”
On the last Saturday before summer vacation ends, Mark knocks on Donghyuck’s door with a mindset to not leave until Donghyuck opens the door, or his mum calls him to dinner.
Thankfully, Donghyuck doesn’t have an ensuite.
Again, Donghyuck isn’t surprised to see Mark. Again, Mark feels relief, more than anything. Donghyuck pulls a sour face and sprints to the bathroom before Mark can get a word in.
When Donghyuck returns to his room, Mark is sitting on the edge of the bed with Donghyuck’s phone in his hands.
“You’re listening to it. The mixtape I made for you.”
“Yeah, it’s nice.” Donghyuck pushes Mark a little bit away so he can sit next to him. “But you already know I will listen to anything that has IU and Michael Jackson, so you don’t really get any brownie points.”
Mark expects that, and it feels so good to have things you expect to come true, things you can always rely on that he lets himself laugh as hard as he can. He knows he’s making a fool of himself, but at least it’s only in front of Donghyuck.
“Give me an earbud.”
Like the world’s biggest cliche, Zico’s Soulmate feat IU starts playing. They don’t look at each other, shuffling into the single bed and lying down, Donghyuck’s phone between them. It’s comfortable, even as their shoulders overlap.
Why did it have to be you?
Every day, I’ll tell you a different reason
Even if I can’t recognize the shape
You’re the person to draw the outline with
Mark keeps his eyes fixed at the blue ceiling above. Donghyuck used to like aquariums so much, way before they met. After that, he liked planets and space a lot and started covering his entire ceiling with glow-in-the-dark star decals. Just after they met, he switched interests to astrology and bugged Mark every day to give him the exact time of his birth so he can calculate Mark’s natal chart for fortune-telling purposes. Mark wonders why Donghyuck has nothing to show for it in his room, this room littered with stories of Donghyuck’s life.
Mark shifts a little and turns up the volume.
“Lee Donghyuck, I hope you’re not listening too closely. I know you’ve waited for a really long time, way longer than me, so you must be more scared than anything I could ever feel. The truth is, you annoy me a lot. You never listen, you do whatever you want without others’ consideration, and you stress me out.”
Mark feels a tug at his hand. “I’ve still got a free ear, Mark Lee, don’t push it.”
“Sometimes I think, Why did it have to be you? But then I remember that soulmates aren’t about happily ever afters, but a match. Like two jigsaw puzzles. And it’s kind of strange some higher power up there think we’re suitable for each other, but at the same time, I’m glad for it. In fact, I like it. I like it a lot.”
“You know I go by he/him pronouns, right?”
Mark rolls his eyes. “Say it back, dumbass.” His palms are sweaty but he takes Donghyuck’s hand in his anyway, payback for leaving him and his crappy confession hanging.
“Your hand is making my hand feel very uncomfortable,” Donghyuck says, matter-of-factly.
“Seriously?” Mark turns to lean on his side so he’s facing Donghyuck’s side profile. “You’re gonna reject me in this claustrophobic shoebox of a room?”
“How can I reject you when it’s fated that you’re gonna haunt me for the rest of my life?”
“Then say it before this song ends, or superstitious bad shit is gonna happen.”
“Fine, I like you too dumbass.”
Mark can hardly control his smile. Meeting Donghyuck might not feel like a lottery moment, but this moment definitely feels like one. “Okay, now say it while you’re looking at me.”
“No, that’s stupid!” Donghyuck huffs, angrily turning to his side. Mark’s smile widens watching Donghyuck turn redder and redder, and all he wants to do is take a closer look at it. Close the gap.
Mark leans forward to press a soft kiss on Donghyuck’s lips, and he thinks kissing the sun is really, really nice.