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When Joel is five, his mum gently explains to him what the mark on her arm means, and why he doesn't have his.
Your soul mate hasn’t been born yet. But they’ll be here soon, sweetie. Definitely soon.
(Joel likes to think of what his name will look like. Will it be tiny and thin, like his mum’s, or bold and thick, like his father’s, or would it look all curly and hard to read like his own attempts at writing.
Absently, he traces his finger over his arm, drawing letters he isn’t yet familiar with, trying to imagine how the name will be shaped.)
When Joel is seven and he's the last person in his entire school not to have a mark, he gets called mean names on the playground. Later, at home, his mum comforts him, but her eyes are dull and distant, and her touch is stiff.
You'll have a soul mate any day now. Don't you worry.
(He doesn’t sleep for days, scared that if he does, he’ll miss his mark. He stays awake, staring at his arm, until his eyes droops and his head nods as he struggles to keep himself awake.)
When Joel is eight, he comes home with a black eye and a split lip. His mum looks at him and sighs. She tilts his head and inspects the wound. She offers no comfort, and pushes him aside when he tries to hug her.
You'll just get blood on my skirt. Go clean up. Now!
When Joel is ten and he's had another nightmare, he wants to sleep with his mum and his dad, but their bed is cold and empty. He goes downstairs, but stops. His mum is crying and his dad is sitting in his armchair, scowling.
People are talking-
Let them talk!
They're saying he's a freak, and a creep.
He's a child.
He's unmarked!
(Joel sits on the stairs, curling around himself as he listens to them argue and he can't shake the feeling that he's done something wrong. He rolls up his sleeve and stares at the skin that bares no name. He bites his lip to keep from crying.
He wishes he had a name.)
When Joel is twelve, his mother doesn't look him in the eye when Joel asks her if there's something wrong with him. She just smiles weakly.
No, of course not.
(He doesn't believe her. He hears his parents arguing when they think he's asleep. When their voices get so loud that Joel's heart skips a beat, it's then that he starts wishing for a name to bleed into his skin. When he's surrounded by a fortress of blankets and muffled yells, he wishes he were normal.)
When Joel is twelve, his father leaves. Joel watches as the man lugs a suitcase down the stairs.
(He never said goodbye. Joel wishes he had. Maybe the farewell could block out the sound of his mother's screeching sobs.)
When he's thirteen, Joel lets himself be baited into a fistfight with three older boys. He doesn't just lose the fight, but he loses a little bit of hope in his soul mate, and anger fills the gap.
I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!
(He screams in his room, because his mother is out again, he hasn't seen his father in seven months, he still doesn't have a soul mate, and he's never felt more alone.)
When Joel is thirteen and getting dressed for school, he remembers that there are school photos that day. He wears long sleeves. Not a single other person does, they're all so proud of their names. Joel feels sick and ashamed.
Heyman, take your jersey off, I want everyone to display their marks.
I don't have a mark, sir.
(Silence had filled the room, somebody laughed, and Joel ran out of the hall in tears. He kicked the door to a toilet stall so hard it dented, and as he sat on the toilet seat, he pretended it didn't hurt, even as he pressed his hand over his mouth so hard he felt like he would suffocate.
Weeks later, when the photographs were handed out, his mother slapped him for not being in the photo. He could barely apologise through the sobs.)
When Joel is fifteen and his class goes on a field trip to the museum, there's a group of kindergarten kids there. Alone and bored, Joel watches absently as two of the boys walk around hand in hand, when they pass him, he can see that the name on their forearms matches the name tags on their chests. Then someone in his class pushes into Joel.
Better keep Heyman away from those kids, sir. I bet he likes 'em young.
(Joel punches him in the face and doesn't even flinch when their teacher gives him a week of detention.
Years ago, he would have gone to his mum for comfort, would have told her his every woe, but she doesn't talk to him now. She's ashamed of him; it brings her to tears to think that her son is an unmarked freak. Joel would have gone to his father, would have asked for boxing lessons but he's on the other side of the country, far beyond Joel’s reach.)
When Joel is seventeen, everyone around him is excited for prom. Joel tries to ignore the taunts.
Heyman, you gonna take your soul mate to prom- oh wait...
(Joel's never been good at controlling his temper. He manages to break their nose, but they break a little bit more than that.
On the day of prom, Joel stays at home, having been suspended from school, he has little else to do, but he takes it in stride, and gets as drunk as he can off of the alcohol his father left behind and the wine his mother always has in stock. Joel drinks himself into oblivion and doesn't once think about the name that isn't on his arm.)
When Joel is a day away from turning eighteen, he decides he'll try getting drunk again. He's been saving his money and taking, little by little, from his mother's wallet, and he blows it all on alcohol. His mother has gone off somewhere Joel didn't care enough to remember, and he's alone and he's tired.
Poor Joel doesn't have a mark, why don’t we give him one or two?
(The bruises ache, but Joel is all too used to them by now. When he looks for his mark, he finds them instead; yellow and purple, deep and shallow. They're familiar, and without them painting his skin, he sometimes feels bare.)
How dare you not be alive. How fucking dare you leave me here with these people. Just be born already, you fucking asshole.
(His anger is undeniable and he doesn't try to fight it. Rage burns through his body, as the alcohol burns to his stomach.)
He drowns in his sadness. He hasn't had a friendly conversation with his mother in over a year. He hardly recognises her now, she looks so worn and bitter. Then, she probably wouldn't recognise him either; he's changed from the hopeful little boy who just wanted his soul mate, to a young man who silently wishes for all the marks in the world to disappear, so he wouldn't be the only one.
Joel!
Yeah?
You forgot your damn lunch.
(Those were the last kind words Joel had ever shared with his mother. Every exchange since had been angry and loud. He misses his mother's voice; he can still remember when he was younger, so, so, much younger, and his mother had read him bedtime stories. He used to get nightmares whenever she didn't.)
When Joel is a day away from turning eighteen, a name appears on his left forearm.
Ray Narvaes Jr.
(Joel threw his bottle at the wall. The sound of glass smashing against the wall did nothing to mask the “fuck you!” that tore from Joel’s mouth. He sank to his knees, hands shaking so, so much as his anger left him mute, unable to shout or weep as the tears rolled down his cheeks.)
When Joel turned eighteen, he woke up on the floor, surrounded by splinters of glass and the stench of alcohol seeping into the carpet. With his head pounding in his ears, he didn’t remember the previous night. He only saw the name when he reached for the broken neck of a bottle.
Fuck you.
(Joel stopped wearing short sleeves. He covered the mark, hid it away. Too ashamed to look at it, too angry to even think of that name, too damned sad to even acknowledge that he wasn’t alone anymore.
His hid his mark; he hid Ray as though his presence upon Joel's skin was shameful.)
When Joel is twenty-two, he’s living in a shitty apartment, with a shitty job and he has no one to blame but himself.
I hate you.
(A mantra he finds himself thinking whenever he catches glimpse of the name. He knows it isn’t fair, but it makes him feel better, so he allows himself to be swept away by loathing.)
When Joel is twenty-five, Geoff punches him in the face. He breaks Joel’s nose.
I get it. You got your mark at eighteen, and you’re constantly beating yourself up about it, but lemme tell you something, asshole, you’re being pathetic. No one, absolutely no one here knows that you got your mark late, so it’s no excuse to be holding yourself back, you lonely dick.
(Geoff apologises four days later with a bottle of beer and a reluctant scowl.)
When Joel is thirty, Geoff gets married and all Joel sees is pairs and pairs of names and smiling faces. Joel meets Geoff’s parents and learns that they’re fifteen years apart. He feels a flutter of something under his skin.
Admit it, under all that anger, under all that bitterness; you’re looking forward to meeting your Ray.
(The thought of meeting Ray makes Joel’s insides turn, uncomfortably. He smiles weakly and resists the urge to cry.)
When Joel is thirty-two, he runs into a kid who spills his drink all down Joel’s shirt.
I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, man! How much does your shirt cost? I can probably pay for a new one- well, probably not, it looks expensive, but I can try-
(Joel doesn’t bother sticking around to hear anymore. He pushes past the kid and goes to work with a shirt drenched in Coke. Geoff laughs and Joel glowers back.)
When Joel is thirty-four, he doesn’t tell anyone that both the 15th and 16th of September are marked on the calendar as “Happy Birthday, fucker”.
I hate you, I really, really do. But, you deserve far better than me, kid.
(Joel doesn’t want to meet Ray. He dreads it- fears it, even- more than anything else, he just hopes that Ray wasn’t as eager to met his soul mate as Joel was when he was a kid.)
When Joel is thirty-six, he lets Geoff talk him into a blind date.
There are plenty of people out there who don’t give a flying fuck about the soul mate shit. Just trust me, Joel. You’ll love him. Sooner or later.
(Joel doesn’t fully understand what the last part means, but he’s tired and Geoff’s been hounding after him about this date for months, if not years.)
The sight of his name- his stupid fucking name- inked into the skin of the man's forearm makes him feel sick. His blood runs cold, even as his body starts to burn, the heat chasing the cold away with such speed it leaves Joel dizzy and breathless.
You’re my soul mate.
(It comes out as a whisper, sounding as though Joel has stolen the air from Ray’s lungs, and his face is filled with wonder. Ray’s eyes trace over Joel’s face, and his skin crawls under the scrutiny.)
You’re a child.
I’m eighteen.
I’m twice your age, Ray.
(He spits the name as though it were poison, and his lips curl in disgust.)
So?
‘So’? Fucking ‘so’? So what? You think that it doesn’t matter? That ‘age is just a number’? That our pre-destined love will concur this fucking gap?
(Ray nods and his eyes are so damned hopeful, so beautifully honest. Joel doesn’t know whether to despise or envy him.)
No, no. I can’t- this was a mistake. Geoff didn’t say anything about you, that son of a bitch.
(Joel tried to stand and leave, but Ray was quick to grab his hand, holding on tightly. Joel jolted at the touch, as though it burned him. Ray stared at him, as he twined their fingers together.)
Stay? Please?
I spent eighteen years waiting for your Goddamn name to show up. Do you know what it’s like to be unmarked? To have everyone call you a freak? For your father to leave his own soul mate because of you? Did you get beaten up throughout school? Huh? How long did you go without talking your mother? A day? Try thirteen months.
(There are tears in Ray’s eyes as he shakes his head, feebly. He lets go of Joel’s hand and doesn’t meet Joel’s eyes.)
I don’t love you. I’ve spent most of my life hating you, because you weren’t there, and then you were and it didn’t change a fucking thing. I can’t stand to look at your name on my skin, and it makes me feel sick to see my name on you.
(Ray is trembling, his breath feathery and there are tears on his cheeks, when Joel growls and walks away, his hands curled into fists.)
When Joel is thirty-six, he breaks Ray’s heart and he feels nothing.
Joel! What the fuck, man? Did you really yell at him in a fucking restaurant? He was crying and, and you just left? What the hell were you thinking?
(Geoff doesn’t restrain his onslaught on Joel. Each insult is punctuated by a slap or punch to Ryan’s shoulder, each strike becoming more forceful.
Leave me the hell alone, Geoff. ‘What was I thinking’? What about you? Setting me up with him like that, you prick. You know damn well that I didn’t want to met him. You knew-
(Joel can feel himself becoming dizzy, he’s speaking so fast, and his words trip and fumble over one another.)
Stop being so selfish for a second and listen to me! That kid adores you; he’s spent his whole life waiting to meet you. You should’ve seen the way he talked about you!
He doesn’t even know me.
Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel anything for you. You’re fuckin’ soul mates. You’re 100% compatible, of course he’s going to love you, and once you’ve got your head out of your arse, you might just find that you could love him too. Sooner or later.
(Joel squares his jaw and ignores Geoff’s eyes.)
Look, Joel. Can you at least apologise? I’m sure if you calmly explained, he would understand. He’s a chill guy. Give him a chance.
When Joel is thirty-six and he’s broken Ray’s heart, he tries to take a chance, even while every fibre in his being is telling him it’s a mistake.
I’m… I’m sorry for yelling. It wasn’t fair on you, I didn’t realise Geoff had set me up with you and I overreacted, a bit. Well, not ‘a bit’, a lot.
(Ray is sombre this time, his eyes dart away and he appears smaller, as though he’s trying not to take up space. Joel feels a pang at the thought that he’d made Ray want to feel small, invisible.)
I’m sorry for not existing.
Not your fault.
(There’s a silence, because Joel used to think it was Ray’s fault, and Ray knows it, and they sit in tense quiet.)
Can I buy you a coffee? I’ve got some time to kill, if you wanna, uh, talk.
(Ray nods, sitting up a little straighter.)
If you want, we can be friends. Forget the whole soul mate nonsense.
(Ray offers, tentatively.)
I’m a terrible soul mate, and believe me, I’m not a good friend, either.
I’m sure I can handle you.
(Ray smiles, shy and a tiny bit beautiful, and Joel swears his heart begins to melt at the sight.)