Chapter Text
Everyone would imagine a world with soulmates being wonderful, full of love and happiness. But let’s be real, humans hate difference, full of jealousy for things they don’t or can’t understand. Humans have a love-hate relationship with taboos, they are everywhere all around the world, mutating with time and place. We can’t seem to get rid of them, when we kill one, another one is created.
So when a quarter of the earth can experience an invisible phenomenon that can lead them to happiness faster than an average person, of course the other three-quarters will transform this into a shameful characteristic. That’s how, even though soulmates have existed since the beginning of life, it became disgraceful.
In History, people suffering from “soulmatism” used to have to hide and were persecuted, being perceived either as witches or witches’ unsavable victims. Then, with the beginning of real science, people realized it wasn’t magic, and those people weren’t lying either. So they started to be seen as ill persons suffering from a co-dependent illness and were “treated” accordingly. It was really until very recently that people started to be proud of their soulmatism, fighting for it, fighting for their rights.
Even with all of that, most people still hate on soulmatism, even people having soulmates hate the concept and will do everything to get rid of it. As a matter of fact, scientifically 26% of the population happen to have a soulmate, but if you ask them, only 4% of them will actually admit to having one.
But hiding it isn’t that easy, even more if you have already passed steps 2 and/or 3. Indeed, this phenomenon works following a strict process, and each step comes with pros and cons. Here is how it works:
Step 1: This is the initial step, anyone with a soulmate will be born on this one. It’s basically how soulmatism is for you if you never met your soulmate face to face. The soulmates can feel an echo of the other one’s emotions. They can also feel the echo of each other's pain, but it won’t show physically on the other’s body, and sense when the other is sick or drunk, but it won’t affect them.
This is the safe step, because hiding it is easy and even if your soulmate’s emotions can be annoying, you can just ignore them. Basically, you just know that you have a soulmate.
Step 2: When two soulmates make eye contact for the first time, they will shift to the second step. This is the in-between step because even if it became more real, it’s still manageable.
Sure, you can feel the other’s emotions and pain as well as their own now and get hurt as much as them with visual consequences on your own body by having a mark 50% less violent than the one who’s actually hurt. Making an open wound on them becomes a simple bruise on yourself. This concept works as much for injuries as for drinking or sickness.
But it also deepens the soulmates’ bond by making them able to share immaterial ideas with each other. You still won’t be able to have a verbal discussion with the other in your head, but some of them have mastered this concept and can have some kind of dialogue through this medium.
It’s important to note that most soulmates don’t stay on the second step for long, and most of them even skip it.
Step 3: The last step is attained when the soulmates have physical contact. There is no coming back from that. Both of their thoughts will become one, same for their wounds and sickness. They become one entity, with all the pros and cons going with it.
With all of that, it’s not difficult to imagine why people would want to keep it hidden, and by that, will try everything to never meet their soulmate, living in denial. We can also imagine how agencies won’t let their precious talents be bothered by this kind of “illness”. That’s why the taboo is still so present nowadays, little to no celebrities happen to have soulmatism, or if they have it, they are very good at hiding it. With no role model, things aren’t really moving in the industry on this topic.
Well, this was true until two years ago when a young artist changed the game unintendedly. But as always, capitalism is feeding on all the great advances, turning it as toxic as it possibly can. One step forward, two steps backward.
Life is like a game, I don't know the rules
[La vie comme un jeu, j'connais pas les règles]
I play with fire but I don't want to lose myself
[Je joue avec le feu mais j'veux pas me perdre]
When in my head, everything force me to overthink
[Quand dans ma tête, tout m'oblige à penser]
**Narrator's POV**
Two years passed since the young singer and actor Sound Saran made the headlines by assuming his soulmate condition, even revealing the boy he shared his mind with to the world. This event changed the way the industry worked, but at the same time, it’s like nothing really changed.
Yes, now people affected by soulmatism could become celebrities without having to hide their condition. Companies are even hunting for those kinds of individuals to add them to their unlimited ranks of trainees like some kind of shiny Pokémons. But were those people feeling more free now? No, they don’t. They just exchanged a prison cell for another, so different but so alike at the same time.
Because companies saw how Sound’s story brought attention to his work, they saw the potential soulmatism could hold if rightly scripted, using just enough truth and adding just enough drama while still having control over it could be the right ingredient this short-of-breath industry was looking for. Now was the race to find the right recipe for all those companies, at the expense of the poor soul who got caught and used in the process.
The Thai boy band MARS is always making the news recently because their main vocalist, Thame, has been suffering from more and more violent soulmate crises. During rehearsal it was manageable, during free time it was fixable, but during actual concerts and events? This was starting to be too much for their company, ONER. The biggest pop music company in the country had made a partial bet on soulmatism. They chose to put only one soulmate boy in a boyband of five. If the soulmate trend kept going strong, they would just use the band as a springboard for their new golden goose, but if this was just a trend or if it revealed that it couldn’t be controlled enough, they would just hide him behind his bandmates’ talent until everyone forgot him.
They didn’t expect fate to play with them, though. Because Thame, their golden goose, really brought new wealthy fans to the company, fans were ready to spend a lot of money just to see him more, to catch more clues about his soulmates, and to play investigators like they love to. But Thame’s soulmatism condition revealed uncontrollable, especially recently, this was going in the way of his job, scaring away sponsors one by one.
Most of the time, people with soulmatism who are only on step 1 like Thame just happen to have some ghost pain here and there, little bruises that show up randomly and in the worst case, feeling drunk without any warning. But Thame? The intensity of his step 1 symptoms foreshadows that his soulmate is in critical condition. Thame’s crises consist of him not being able to breathe without any warning, with severe pain going from his lungs to his trachea. He gets blue lips and blood-injected eyes after it with extreme fatigue. All of this isn’t compatible with an idol spending his days dancing and singing. An idol not being able to sing is a burden to a company like ONER.
So now, ONER’s CEO had to make a choice: putting Thame aside and giving up on the entertainment industry’s unofficial soulmatism race or finding a way to at least reassure the sponsor while finding out where those crises come from and how to control them right from the source.
And ONER isn’t known for backing down.
On the other side of the city, unaware of all this idol related drama, a young man is trying to survive with a missing heart and broken dreams. Po, a graduated art & communication student for 3 years now, is currently working as a sales assistant at his uncle’s tailor shop. How isn’t he working for a big multinational firm like the rest of his ex-classmates? You could ask. Well, our naive boy right here made the mistake of passing love before his career.
But his biggest mistake clearly is to fall in love with someone who has soulmatism while he doesn't. He really signed himself up for the heartbreak from the start.
His diploma in the bag, Po had moved in almost immediately with his boyfriend, Earn, an aspiring new tech engineer. Earn was the one who brought money into the household, with his start-up project, but also thanks to his professional links with the upper class. Po was his unnamed, unpaid, unrecognized assistant. Without Po there was no Earn but no one knew this from the outside. Lying to himself, Po was content with this hierarchization of their relationship, love was enough of a reward for him. And if Earn succeeded thanks to him, he was also succeeding with him by association, right? By working for free, Po only felt like he was playing a long game, and he was naive enough to think it was an “easy to win” one.
The thing is, Earn has a soulmate. Po knew that from the start, this was never a secret. This knowledge dejected Po at first, but Earn’s personality made him forget this threat. Month by month, year by year, the pressure of the sword of Damocles floating above his head faded away. But it’s not because you blinded yourself to not see it anymore that it doesn’t exist. No matter how long you try to ignore it, reality will always come back to knock at your door when you least expect it. Po learned this lesson the hard way.
Earn met them one ordinary day, where everything went fine on Po’s side. He stayed at their shared apartment, like always, working on some corporate identity and style guide for Earn’s start-up. But once the older one came home, something had changed, he was shining, his aura radiating in the room, blowing Po’s life away in an instant. He didn’t need to ask, it was obvious, but still the last remaining ounce of gullibility in him had to hold on to this impossible hope. So he asked, and with the answer, all hope vanished.
It didn’t happen overnight, slowly distance and silence made their way into their unstable relationship. Quiet nights, alone in this empty space. The ghost of a loved one haunts this poor example of a safe place once every two days, barely producing a sound. Trash having to get out more often, filled with untouched sandwiches. Then came the night that sealed Po’s fate.
At the long awaited launch party of Earn’s project, Po was hiding in the shadows, as always, watching his shining partner under the crowd’s attention. Then, all felt off. A girl, around Earn's age, dressed in a magnificent sparkly dress, in the same maroon shade Po had chosen a few months back that could be seen on all the furniture in the room. His boyfriend’s arms circled her waist perfectly as if it had been made for it. While her hand found his shoulder in the most natural movement possible. Once again, Po didn’t have to wait for Earn’s explanation, anyone could see that those two formed a classic step 3 soulmates couple.
That night, Po had lost everything: his job, his roof, his heart, his self-love and his will to live. Thankfully, his divorced, nonetheless loving, parents weren’t going to let him waste himself away. He soon found a new place and got engaged by his uncle while waiting to find a job that would actually use his masters degree.
It’s been six months now… And the huge three-year gap on his resume happened to be his newfound nemesis as he was still stuck at his uncle’s shop. The only thing remotely close to his degree’s activity lately has been when he helped his best friend with her boyband obsession.
I would like to let go, to invite them to danse
[Je voudrais m'laisser faire, l'inviter à danser]
To let the night take me somewhere I'm out of my depth
[Que la nuit m'emporte là où je n'ai pas pied]
But in my mind, everything force me to overthink
[Mais dans ma tête, tout m'oblige à penser]
**Po's POV**
This leads us to this quiet morning of November, Po at the central table in his uncle's tailor shop. He is currently searching on a supplier’s website for the specific fabrics his uncle asked him to restock. His nose almost touching the screen, he is holding a sample close to the picture on the product information sheet.
“Why not simply use the product code?” you may ask. Well, you see, Po’s uncle isn’t the most practical man that walks this earth. He is still grieving the time when sales representatives would come directly to him for restock and new collections. The resilient young man already felt victorious that the old man accepted to order the new supplies online. He will just have to take it step by step for his uncle to, hopefully, be able to use the supplier’s website alone in the future. That is if Po actually found a job in his field…
As Po is writing down with a white felt-tip pen at the back of the sample the corresponding product code (at least from the most resembling product on this), his phone starts vibrating again. Yes, again, it’s at least the 6th time this morning and at increasingly frequent intervals. The device is facing the table, but Po doesn’t have to turn it to know which name will light up on the screen.
Po didn’t keep any friends from his college years. Sadly, this is a very competitive field, and friends aren't what people were seeking for there. Everything is about social interactions, connections and role plays. And his introverted boy just couldn’t fake it enough to make it. The only real friend he has is the little extroverted and colorful girl he met in primary school.
15 years later, this exact same girl is currently bursting into the shop, all red from both anger and breathlessness, holding her purse in one hand and her phone in the other. “You! Little shit!” She shouts, pointing at her best friend with the same hand that is holding her phone.”How dare you ign…Ig… aaaah” The short woman is so out of breath that she can’t finish her sentence.
Po chuckles while shaking his head, amused. “Baifern, what are you doing here?”
“Hey! Let me finish! You ungrateful brat!”
This time Po raises his right eyebrow. “I’m taller and older than you. Plus, may I remind you that I’m currently working? You’re disturbing my workplace.”
Baifern finally takes her time to look around at her environment. The shop is tidy as always, not an ounce of dust could be found, but the other thing that’s missing is clients. This isn’t unusual for a morning in the middle of the week. This kind of shop only gets like one client per day, who would spend a lot on one order, and typically after the sun went down.
It’s her turn to raise one of her eyebrows. “Workplace? More like a self-induced prison cell! How long are you planning to wither here, huh?!”
Po already knows where this is going. He has this discussion at least once a day with either his dad, his mom or his uncle, he will have to add his best friend to the list. He makes a “tsk” sound before giving his answer, words feeling overused on his weary tongue: “Baifern, I’m content with my life right now. You don’t have to worry, I am where I wanna be.”
Baifern makes a contesting noise, not believing a word she just heard. “As if! Since when is a creative person like you, who fought for his place in a very selective creative program in college, would be content in wasting his life away beeping articles behind a cash register?!”
“Firstly, this is not what I’m doing here. Secondly, there are no menial jobs in this world. Thirdly, I like it here. This is calm and serene. I have all the time to actually let my mind wander around and be creative in my own head. A creative person values freedom, Fern, and I do believe that I’m currently more free than most of my old classmates. Now, if that’s all, may you let me finish this? I’ll go eat with you at lunch if you’re still around. You can wait on one of the armchairs on your left.” With that, Po takes the next sample to hold it next to the screen like previously.
But is unable to succeed because Baifern just shut the laptop close by pressing both of her hands on it. Po barely has the time to save his finger from being squashed.
“I am not finished! You’re going to listen to me now! I won’t let you waste yourself away because of a stupid broken heart!"
“It’s not ab-” Po stops himself because of his best friend's murderous stare, signaling her to continue her intervention.
“It is Po. Maybe you’re not aware of your own misery, which I doubt, but this has been going on for too long. I let you mourn this toxic relationship. I let you try to get back on your feet by yourself. But all I could witness is you digging your grave deeper and deeper without even trying to keep stairs available in case you would try to get out in the future. I can’t let you get away with it like that, without fighting. I won’t let you!” She monologues.
Po stares at her speechless. Clearly this is something that has been weighing on his best friend's chest for quite some time now. So, even if he doesn’t agree with her on the “wasting his life away” part, he lets her go on.”
“You need a fresh start: a new job in a new field with new coworkers and a new mindset." With this last word, she pokes Po’s forehead with her now free hand since she dropped her purse on the table next to the brutally closed laptop.”And I happened to fall on the perfect job offer just this morning. Take a look at what your next life could be.”
Po takes the phone Baifern is handing him, open on a Linkedin post, from a week ago, for the entertainment company ONER. This isn’t a job ad, properly speaking, more like a post stating the lack of investment in the new generation of candidates. This antipathic speech seems to challenge people to prove them wrong by attesting your motivation and sending them speculative applications. In exchange, they promise to give their chance to people with any background to prove themselves.
Po is doubtful. “It just looks like any other company these days trying to clean up their corporate image. How am I supposed to see any opportunity here?” He doubts out loud.
“Pfff, come on, Po! Try to have at least a minimum of positive fiber in you! This is one of the biggest entertainment companies in the country right now! Do you understand what big of a breakout it could give to your career to have them on your CV in the future? Even if it’s just for an internship, this will give you so many opportunities. Your creativity will come back to them surrounded by all those creativity driven people there must be in there. You have to at least try!” Baifern implores.
While she was talking, Po checked the company’s dashboard. This is indeed one of, if not the most important music company out there, but the young man quickly finds out the real reason behind Baifern’s excitement.
“You sure your whole speech isn’t just to try to make me your informer on your little boyband’s whereabouts?” He accuses her while showing her the banner on ONER’s LinkedIn profile, where you could see five young men wearing full makeup and stylish clothes. Those five faces are well known by Po because his best friend right there had already made him work on a ton of various items for their fanbase. He may not be able to list their names correctly, but he won’t forget those fake looking faces.
“Oh that.” Baifern let the ‘a’ sound linger a moment.”My proposition has nothing to do with this. It's just a coincidence.” She now sounds outraged, as if she isn't the culprit right here.
Po doesn't believe a word from his best friend now. He doesn't have time to finalize his refusal because Baifern starts talking again, looking everywhere except the young man's face. This can't be good.
“Anyway, I already sent your CV last week. You have an interview this afternoon. No need to thank me!”
She takes back her phone, searching for the confirmation email coming from the company’s HR department. Po sighs again, he knows that there is no need to push away his friend’s proposition now. The interviewer will quickly find out that he is not fit for the job anyway. He is now vaccinated to humiliation anyway, and if this means getting Baifern out of his back for now, this can't be that bad.
“So there wasn't even a choice to begin with.” He says desperately.
Baifern had known him for so long now that she immediately pinpointed the moment Po accepted the interview. She flashes out her bright smile and starts jumping like a little girl.
Look around how everything is beautiful, we shouldn't ruin that
[Regarde comme tout est beau, faudrait pas tout gâcher]
As if I was on pause, I don't see myself moving on
[Comme si j'étais sur pause, j'me vois pas avancer]
I don't see myself moving on
[J'me vois pas avancer]
**Po's POV**
Po is now awkwardly standing in the middle of a colorful office, each knickknack around him must be worth more than all the money that ever existed on his bank account put together. Even the chair the older man at desk is offering him seems untouchable.
“Hum… Po? Is that right?” The man checked the CV in front of him. “The chair isn’t going to eat you. This isn’t a test, just a piece of furniture.”
Po slowly, sending a worried look at the two persons still standing next to the closed door. Ming and Tae, as they presented themselves earlier, were sending him embarrassed smiles while making subtle gestures to make him turn around and face the manager.
His anxiety is already flashing ‘Ambuch’ in big bright red letters in his mind. He has been searching for a job for a long time now, but most of his attempts ended up unanswered, and the few that went beyond that ended up in awkward phone or video interviews. This is actually the first real life interview experience of his life, and the first professional encounter in three years. Maybe he should have prepared better.
Why did he trust Baifern again? Ah yeah, to her off his back. He really needs to keep in mind that he doesn’t care if this goes nowhere. He actually wants this to go nowhere. He isn’t someone who would fail on purpose, but if he does fail this will actually be good news for his stress level. He just needs to remind his body that this isn’t important and that he really needs to unclench his fist, to put a foot before another, and to put his ass in this designed chair. That’s all he needs to do, the rest is not in his hands.
So he does just that. Like a robot admittedly, but he finally sat staring at the older man with his hands unnaturally placed on his knees and his back as straight as a ruler. The interviewer raises an eyebrow, questioning the percentage of humanity contained in the creature in front of him.
The man whose name he just remembered, Mick, gained back his professional serving face. “So Po… I know this is a speculative application that got you here, but you must have had something in mind while applying to our company. Which one is it? Interested in the backstage of the entertainment industry? Creativity without financial limit? Desire for power over people's lives and/or thoughts? Unattainable dreams? Compulsive obsessive stalking behaviors?” Mick enumerates the options while his eyes wander on Po’s CV, going up and down more than once.
Po is feeling more disconcerted as those words leave the other man’s lips. But he shows nothing of it, his face still frozen in his neutral trance.
After having left his victim simmer in his thoughts for a few seconds, his sharp stare plants itself in the younger man’s eyes to deliver the last, but not least, accusatory option of his painfully honest list. “Or… is it desperation?”
At that, Po’s impassive mask cracks. He can’t prevent his eyes from going round, his lips from parting slightly and a small inaudible but visually visible sigh from running away from his lungs. He wasn’t prepared for this kind of cruel honesty.
He can see right away that Mick is unsettlingly pleased by his reaction thanks to the wicked glimmer in his eyes. Also, the older man glances quickly, but clearly, at his two subordinates. Right away, the sound of a notebook that got clumsily closed, followed by the one of a door that was open and closed, reached Po’s eardrums. He doesn’t turn around to certify his deduction, but he feels like only one out of two left the room because he can still hear the sound of a pen against a sheet of paper. He keeps his stare in the interviewer’s one, more because of fright than effrontery.
“So… Desperation it is. Good, that’s what we are looking for. I just need to cross out some more crucial information before going further with you.” Po is paralyzed by the man’s remarks. Is this a trap?
“Firstly, are you mute or something? I need a talking human for this mission.” Oh, this Mick is having the time of his life torturing Po, reopening not so old scars.
The young man tries to express a complete sentence, subject - verb - complement, but the only thing his vocal cords succeed in producing is some kind of “huh” sound. Let the humiliation continue.
“Well, well, well. We’ll have to book you some acting classes, but it was predictable anyway.” Mick seemingly jokes while venting the air with his hand.
Acting? Po is a man who basks in the shadow, not the light. He may love the entertainment industry for all the creativity it mingles, but never would he put a finger in front of a shooting camera. There must be a misunderstanding.
But when he is milliseconds away from finally expressing his confusion with actual words, Mick raises his hand to stop him.
“Don’t worry! You’re not passing a casting to be added to our roster of actors. Don’t take it the wrong way, but you’re just not the demographic we are aiming for in our recent strategy.”
“I think you haven’t read my CV correctly.” Po eventually says.
Mick overreacts his surprise after hearing his candidate’s voice for the first time in 30 minutes. He then takes the CV in his hands, giving every appearance of actually reading it again. “I did… Po. Those Adobe Creative Suite skills could very much be useful in the future if you join us! Ming, come over here, I need to check the chemistry!”
The redheaded girl appears in a second next to Po’s chair, holding a tablet next to his face, wearing the brightest smile he has ever seen. The brightest, the fakest. The tablet is positioned to face Micks, the longer side touching Po’s right cheek intermittently as Ming seems to slide between pictures with her right forefinger, destabilizing the device held precariously in her left hand. Each time Po tries to look at what the tablet is displaying, Ming turns it slightly enough to make its content not distinguishable. All he can see is Mick nodding vigorously while making occasional thumbs up in Ming’s direction. Po is the main subject of this non-verbal discussion while being forced to stand outside of it completely.
Slowly, Po’s irritation grows, outshining his shyness. His eyebrows draw closer, his nose clenches while his lower lip pushes the upper one forming an expression of pure annoyance. Mick finally notices that the big round and brown eyes that were fixing him earlier changed into dark gloomy slits full of suspicion.
The older man makes big gestures to Ming to make her leave, which she does instantly. He now has all his attention back on Po, his professional mask back on his face.
“Don’t worry about that Po, this was just some technical checks. And I can guarantee you that you succeed. So now I have one last big eliminatory question for you: can you confirm to me that you don’t have soulmatism?”
Even if his anger came down again, Po’s attitude didn’t go back to his innocent lost deer persona. This big company’s aura doesn’t feel as intimidating as before. He has no difficulty answering any question now.
“Honestly, I’m not so sure me being here is a good idea. There is clearly a misunderstanding. I’ll leave now.” Po says as he starts to get up.
An expression of pure fear passes on Mick’s face as he stands up even faster, raising his hand to stop Po. “No, no, Po! You’re clearly fit for the job. Sorry if our methods are a bit unconventional. You’ll have to trust the process. Don't resign just yet, let me show you the place at least.” Mick is almost begging for Po to stay, which is even more suspicious and concerning. Something really feels wrong here.
Nothing surprenant in saying that obviously Po isn’t convinced by those fake cries. He ways respectfully in Mick's direction, ignoring the other’s hand and starting to walk in the closed door’s direction.
“You can negotiate the salary, but believe me, it’s a big paycheck already.” This makes Po still for a moment. He isn’t in a bad financial situation right now, but there is no perspective of evolution in his uncle's shop. He is already the only employee, and he isn’t weighed down by work. However tempting this paycheck is, it’s not enough to make him crack.
As if he thought that it wasn’t enough, Mick panics and changes his tactic. “Sure, go back to your tailor shop. Do you know how many people in this country would kill to have a place at ONER? As an art & communication graduate, you have to know how much a big name like ours can change the trajectory of one’s life. I’m not asking you for a lifespan contract. Just think about how many opportunities you’ll get adding this name to your curriculum. Think Po.” Mick’s tone is more aggressive now, but Po’s back is still facing him, so the young man can’t know the expression on his face, even if he can guess it, probably a smug arrogant smile and raised challenging eyebrows.
For the first time since Po entered this building, he is faced with the ugly and hurtful but terribly precise and real truth. A truth neither his parents nor his uncle really faced him with, too scared to break him even more. Maybe he needed this electroshock.
“I don’t have one.” Po simply says.
Mick makes an interrogative sound, not prepared for this answer: “Huh?”
Po finally looks above his own shoulder, only moving his upper body, to stare right in his interviewer’s eyes when he gives him his final answer. “A soulmate. I don’t have one.”
A big smile blooms on Mick’s face, a mischievous flame dancing in his eyes. Po feels like he just sold his soul to the devil.
And maybe he did.
Sometimes, I'm in pain, I'm not normal
[Parfois, j'ai mal, j'suis pas normal]
I see my life slipping away and that's a weakness
[J'vois ma vie s'échapper et ça me fait défaut]
**Po's POV**
“Here we are!” Mike exclaims as he opens the door to a training room with mirrors on every other wall. A catchy song is filling the room, Po must have already heard it somewhere, most probably the last time Baifern dragged him to the mall. Rhythmed by the sound of shoes squeaking on the sprung floor, five figures are dancing, their backs facing the newcomers.
For an inattentive witness, it would be easy to believe that the five boys didn’t get disturbed in their dance routine by the unsolicited invasion. If their body globally followed the meticulous choreography, muscles precisely programmed, their eyes are all tracking Po through the mirror as he follows Mike obediently. The shy boy has spent enough time in his short life being a support role on the sidelines of everyone else's life to learn how to be observant and how to quickly put people in boxes. What he isn’t used to, however, is being the center of attention. Because, if all of them have very different emotions from one end of the spectrum to the other slipping from their eyes, they all have in common that those feelings are aimed at Po only. Heat starts to spread from the poor boy’s neck to his ears, bristling his nape’s hair on its way.
Mike presents the group in front of them, his voice barely above the music. Po is only half listening to him anyway because his mind is already trying to categorize each member.
The one standing the farthest from them had dark brown hair and glasses, he looks serious and composed. Mike informed him that this is Pepper, the “all rounder” of the band, whatever that means. As a matter of fact, this boy is the only one not looking at Po right now. Sure, his eyes fell on the new boy when he entered the room, but their expression was neutral, only taking in the minimum information he needed on the newcomer. After a few seconds, his attention went back to his own reflection. Po classified him as not a threat and as a neutral aura.
The second farthest boy is apparently called Nano and is the main dancer. Well, that’s not a surprise. Even if Po has no notion of dance and music, the shortest boy clearly lets the music live through him, leaving the sounds to control his muscles. He is the embodiment of music. His movements and reflexes are so controlled that they barely look human anymore. If the four other boys are dancing, he is the Dance. What is even more impressive is that his eyes never left Po’s body since he entered the room, and even with that, he still makes no mistakes while the other three clearly look offbeat or unsynched every now and then. His stare is filled with a childish curiosity. No bad feelings leak from his small body, only warm welcoming friendly vibes. A cute smile even appears on his bright face when his eyes meet Po’s. This is the antonym of a threat, this is a living safe place. Po already feels drawn by his warmth.
But a movement in their choreography, changing their positions, breaks the charm as another blocks his view. This one is glowing in self-confidence, a smirk never leaving his face. His brown colored hair has auburn highlights balanced with his sun-kissed skin. This does transpire as “main visual” to reuse Mike’s words, even if Po doesn’t understand this concept in a music context. This boy does dance and sing as much as the others, does he not? His eyes on Po look predatory, as if he is already plotting something involving him. The smirk and the flirty winks each time their stare crosses each other are proof enough for Po to understand that he isn’t going to like this. This Jun represents a threat but a non-dangerous one. Because even if he looks like a conceited pain in the ass, his aura doesn’t seem menacing, unlike the two last boys.
His eyes fell on the most aggressive one first. A gray haired, apparently named Dylan, has been sending deadly glares in his direction for the past few minutes. From his fierce interpretation of their choreography, his visual (but inaudible throughout the music) sighs and tsk, his frowned eyebrows and his dark eyes locked on Po, everything in his behavior screamed danger and unstable bomb ready to blow at any given moment. Unpredictable, anyone could become his next victim. Po directly registered that this boy isn’t someone to mess with. He will try to have as little interaction with him as possible if he wants to stay alive around here.
Still, Po starts to wonder why this boy feels so much hatred for him while they never met before this very moment. This doesn’t feel like casual hatred for some random kinds of people, this aversion must have a background. But this isn’t his place to find out. Po isn’t searching for trouble, so he will just have to let go of this and accept to never find out. His peace is worth the frustration.
The music stops, the choreography with it, and all boys finally adjust their attention to the choreographer, who calls them for feedback. Well, maybe not all boys, because one of them is still fixating on Po through the mirror. The last one, the only one Po still hasn’t classified, and the one Mike calls “the leader”. Thame, the boy they are here for in the first place.
His aura is dark like Dylan’s, but his hatred seems more precise, less doubtful. This boy was clearly biting his own cheek from the beginning, only waiting for the song to end to lash out. Thame wasn’t an unstable bomb, it was a preloaded one waiting for the right trigger to go off and blow his target.
The difference with the other threat in the room is a subjective one. Po can’t imagine this boy’s personality to be this dark and nauseous, it just doesn’t feel right, something has happened to make him this way. For Dylan, Po can feel the hatred linked to his aura and soul. It’s in the gray boy’s nature to be aggressive, while for Thame it looks more like a defensive mechanism.
It doesn’t make Thame less dangerous, especially when he is walking toward them, target locked.
“You really don't care about artists’ opinions, do you?” Thame violently calls out Mike while eying Po up and down.
“Thame, we already talked about that. This is less about your opinion and wants and more about contract validity.” Mike answers the attack in a stonewalling way.
“I don’t care about your stupid contract! This is my life, not some reality show!” Thame clearly isn’t pleased with the answer he got from his manager. “I never accepted this, never will.”
Po is completely lost, the little words exchanged between the two don’t give him enough hints to make a theory on why he is here and, above all, why this Thame seems to despise his mere presence in the building. Po tries to glance at the other boys and the choreographer. They stopped talking the moment Thame raised his voice, all heads turned in their direction. They all represent different shades of disappointment, from the saddest to the angriest. This only confirms to the outsider that he is the only one still not knowing what this is all about.
“Listen, Thame. I’m just the messenger and the enforcer. Shouting at me like an immature boy isn’t going to change Pemika’s decision, and I know you’re aware of it. So let’s not make me and your members lose any more time, and let me present you Po. Show your better side, would you?” Mike says in a voice filled with disdain.
Thame’s only response to Mike is a rebellious huff.
“You.” Thame is now looking directly at Po, pointing at him with his right index finger. “Don’t think you’re on the winning team here. I will never take part in this farce. So start looking for another job right now.”
Po is still lost, unable to make any sense of the other’s words. He knew all those words, but putting one after another like Thame did, it just makes no sense.
Not getting the reaction he expected from Po, Thame goes on: “I hate people like you. Opportunists, not caring if their actions are wrong because it's going to bring them what they want. You’re despicable. Reflect on yourself and question your life choice, asshole.”
The last insult startles Po, so he isn’t prepared for the impact of Thame’s shoulder on his own as the boy flees the room. Destabilized, Po lost his balance and would have fallen if Mike hadn’t wrapped his arm around his shoulders.
“Thame! That’s not how an idol should react, boy!” The manager shouts to his artist, who is already too far to hear him. “Sorry for that, Po. I’ll be right back.” He lets go of his protégé and follows Thame out of the room, still shouting. “THAME! COME BACK HERE, RIGHT NOW!”
Po lives the whole situation in a daze. Nothing makes sense. He just got insulted for something he doesn’t know he has done, and no one seems to find it useful to explain it to him. This is so exhausting. He just wants to leave, go back to his peaceful, uneventful and boring life. At least there his heart is safe.
Why does it hurt so much to disappoint someone he doesn't know?
Why does it hurt not knowing what he did wrong?
Why does it hurt so much not knowing how to do better?
He is dragged out of his poisonous thoughts by two hands on his respective forearms, holding him in place. Po’s eyes focus on the face right in front of him. Big sparkling eyes, reddish-brown fringe and honey clear skin he didn’t see this close earlier. Jun.
His medium rated threat is currently trying to bring him back to reality after his highest rated one just blew right in his face.
“Hey? Are you okay? What’s your name, lovely boy?” The flirty idol floods him with questions but doesn’t let him answer. “Don’t worry about Thame. He is a little on edge recently. You know, soulmate trouble.” His smirk is still visible, his eyebrows vibrate with the words leaving his lips. Oh, this boy is really going to be insufferable.
Soulmates trouble? Yeah, Po remembers Baifern warning him about one of the boys having soulmatism and being more and more unstable recently. Thame being this boy makes his threat rate even higher. Since Earn, Po knows not to mingle with this kind of people. At least the ones that still haven’t found their soulmates. Those step 1 soulmates are real ambulant dangers for themself and the others, especially for someone as empathic as Po.
“Hum… My name is Po. I’m just here for a job interview actually. I’m sorry if I ever disturbed your dance practice. Actually, I still don't know why Mike made me come here to meet you all.” As Po explains the situation, he can see Jun’s expression change from flirty to confused in real time.
“What do you mean by ‘job interview’? I'm pretty sure if Mike brought you here, it’s because you got the job. Welcome into our dysfunctional family, Po!” Like earlier with Mike, Jun’s words make no sense in Po’s mind. And apparently Jun could read him like an open book because he starts speaking again even before Po could express his internal questioning. “I’m Jun. I’ll be your lifeguard around here. I’m sure you’ll get used to Thame’s mood swings. Just know I’ll always be here if you need me, cutie.” Jun enlivens his promise with a teasing wink.
Po takes a step back, still confused by all that information. He got the job? But which job? Mike still hasn’t mentioned any position description or list of missions. “Hum, I think you’re mistaken about my qualifications for the job.”
Jun’s smirk drops for the first time since he met him. His brows knitted as his confusion mixes with an undertone of anger. Jun has finally understood that Po knew nothing about what was going on, and if he didn’t look surprised by that, this doesn’t seem to please him.
“Mike told you nothing yet, right?” Again, Po’s facial expression answers him. Jun huffed while passing a hand in his unstyled hair, exasperated by the situation. “Apologizing on my bandmate’s behalf is one thing, do I have to babysit my manager too?!”
“Could someone explain to me what's going on? I don't feel comfortable being kept in the dark right now.” Po finally takes the floor. His eyes try to reach the three other boys, ideally the non-dangerous Nano and Pepper.
Sadly, they are fakingly occupied by helping each other stretch at the back of the room. It is obvious that they followed the whole discussion but chose not to take part in it. Po could understand and respect this self-preservation move, so he doesn’t hold it against them.
The third one, Dylan, is eyeing him from time to time, still drowning in his dark and menacing aura. Po deflects his stare urgently when their eyes meet. One problem at a time. He couldn’t dodge Thame’s attack, he will try not to trigger Dylan’s.
“Hey, that’s okay, P’Po.” Jun speaks to get his attention back on him.”I’m sure you’re going to excel at being Thame’s partner. And Mars will be here to help you.”
“Partner?” Po lets the word escape his lips unintentionally. What does ‘Partner’ mean in Jun’s mouth? ‘Partner’ is such a tricky word.
It could and should mean, in a professional way, a ‘teammate’ working on the same project. But Thame already has four ‘partners’ in the place of his bandmates. He doesn’t look like someone in need of a personal assistant either. These boys are a band, they do everything together. So why would one of them need a special employee attached to him?
The difference between them seems to lie in the fact that Thame is the only one suffering from soulmatism. So what? Po would have to take care of his soulmate crises? He clearly wasn’t qualified for that. Having someone suffering from the same condition or at least having a family member suffering from it would have been a much better choice. But Mick seemed really relieved when Po told him he didn't have a soulmate earlier… This doesn’t make sense.
Of course, the word “partner” also stings his already marred heart. Because in a more personal context, it could mean a ‘loved one’. Po painfully realizes how little his soul has healed from Earn’s treason. He still feels weak. One word, and his whole body hurts as much as the first day after the end.
He is violently brought back to reality when his shoulder is hit for the second time of the day. This time by Dylan, who takes his time to insert a mean remark.
“You’re just another fraud in this rotten industry. Don’t think you’re special or the chosen one. You’re just a pawn, and a pretty useless one. Don’t get attached, you won’t stay long”
Well, so much for ‘not triggering Dylan’s attack’. Po is frozen by a shock provoked by the rapper’s sharp words. Those words seem misplaced not knowing the actual context of this current situation, but they still comically resonate with Po’s non-cicatrized wounds holding him down.
Po barely registers Mick coming at his side with a questioning look on his face after crossing Dylan’s path at the door. His silent question is answered by a murderous stare coming from Jun. The latter, maybe from lack of patience or just experience, breaks eye contact first with a tongue snapping sound. His eyes soften when his attention is drawn back to Po.
“Sorry for letting you down like that, P’Po, but I have to catch this untamed gray haired tomcat before he starts a war with the rest of the company. See you around!” Jun says, making a cute wave with his hand to say goodbye. “And you, do your job!” It’s Mick’s turn to get his shoulder strunk.
“Well…” Micks turns completely in Po’s direction now, scratching his nape from embarrassment. “I couldn’t find Thame for now. But no worries, we don’t need him to see Mrs. Pemika. Would you follow me ?”
Po, still lost in confusion, let the manager turn his shoulders in the door’s direction, pushing him out of the practice room first before taking the lead.
I don't want to stay that way
[J'veux pas rester comme ça]
I won't let it happen to me, it doesn't really look like me
[J'vais pas m'laisser faire, ça m'ressemble pas trop]
**Po's POV**
The silence settles in the 21 m² office with a panoramic view of Bangkok’s business district, from where Pemika rules on her musical kingdom. The last fifteen minutes have been a waterfall of new odd information, drawing the already groggy mind of Po. The poor young man had lost all composure from the very beginning of the discussion after hearing the job’s title: ‘Being Thame’s fake soulmate’. Either this was a huge twisted joke, or those people have truly lost their minds.
But seeing Mick's pleading eyes on him, accompanied with the CEO’s fake motherly look, he finally understands that their proposition is real. The two others have been patiently watching his brain’s gears running in motion to reach comprehension. Po can see the exact moment Pemika is able to pinpoint his realization by how the corner of her lips slightly raises.
Po clears his throat to win a few seconds before finally speaking. “Hum, knowing the details of the job you offer me today… I’m not sure if I’m fit for this position.” Mick’s eyebrows knit together while Pemika’s face stays impassive. “May you excuse me. I won’t make you lose more time now. I hope you find the right candidate as soon as possible.” Po gets up and wais at the both of them in respect.
As he makes a first step in the exit’s direction, Pemika’s voice raises, not filled with anger or disappointment as he could have predicted, but with authority and finality. “We’ve already found the perfect candidate, Po. It’s you.” The young man turns back in the CEO’s direction but still doesn’t sit back. “We offer you a significant monthly pay and free of charge accommodation. Who would refuse such a chance? To go back to living in a little condo directly above your uncle’s deserted shop where you’re only employed out of courtesy? Come on, young man, make the most logical choice for your career’s future. Do you really want to stay dependent on your relatives for the rest of your life?” Pemika’s face mimics the expression of a worried older sibling while her eyes are burning up with an intense flame of power and control.
Po is mortified that those are personal information which he was certain wasn’t part of his curriculum. The CEO’s smirk widens as she sees the younger lose the little composure he had left. She knows she has already won.
“How… How do you know all this?” Po difficulty asks
Pemika only smiles at him and points with her chin at the recently empty chair in front of her. Po gets the message and slowly sits back down with the precaution you would use in front of a wild beast who could rip your throat off if you make any poorly judged movement.
The CEO takes a picture frame from the furniture behind her. Even this trivial gesture seems calculated to the millimeter with her. Her limbs move with the grace of a prima ballerina.
“This.” Her nail taps against the glass protecting an old photograph. Not that old, maybe 30 years at most, but it still had some vintage colors, washed-out by the sun after the years. She is pointing at a girl, around 9 or 10 years old, dressed in a uniform that clearly screamed wealthiness and international school, not the kind of clothes Po had ever worn. Her smile was polite and rehearsed, nothing genuine on her face. What looked like her parents were standing behind her, also wearing some expensive clothes. Next to those three stood a mirroring family, same kind of clothes, same fakely happy expressions. Except, at the place of a little girl was standing a boy, around the same age but already a head taller. This was clearly a ‘first day of the school year’ type of photo.
“This is me. And that.” Pointing at the boy. “Is our current minister of soulmates regulations. You see, we grew up together. We used to be inseparable at school back then. Sadly, we both run out of time to meet each other regularly in recent years, but our friendship is still intact. Actually, we would have a more laid back life, I’m sure we would be like Baifern and you, for sure.”
When his best friend’s name was pronounced, Po’s heart dropped even lower in his stomach. Is there anything about him this woman doesn’t know?
“All I want to say is: do not worry about the authorities. If getting caught is what scares you, do not be scared. Yes, we will lie to the soulmates authorities about you being Thame’s soulmate. Yes, we will have to lie to them also about you, telling them you’ve been hiding your soulmatism those past years, but nothing will happen to you. My friend will personally take care of your file. No legal action will be open against you. That is at least if you behave. So, why refuse now?” Pemika’s carnivorous smile doesn’t leave her face as she reveals the sturdiness of the trap Po just fell into.
Mick’s hand finds his shoulder, squeezing him to anchor him to reality. “Po? Could you answer Mrs. Pemika now, please?” Mick seems as scared of his boss as Po is, even if he isn’t the one standing at the hand of the beautiful woman’s barrel.
The truth is, Po didn’t even think about the soulmates' authorities before Pemika mentioned them. Like most of the population, he only got approached by them when he was little for the soulmate tests meant to find all the kids suffering from soulmatism. Once you’re labeled with ‘no-soulmates’ you won’t see them even again except on rare occasions like public arrests or on TV when a soulmate-linked crime has been committed. And, even though the protocol had been hardened by the minister after the Sound Saran drama, this didn’t change the life of non-soulmate adults.
“I.. That’s not… I just don’t find this really ethical. Thame doesn’t seem to enjoy this idea. And what about his real soulmate?” Po tries to find arguments to save himself.
Pemika makes an empty laugh. “Oh, because you cared about your partner’s soulmate when you dated Earn’s for multiple years? Where were your ethics back then? Thame knows how to be professional. Even if he dislikes this idea for now, as soon as he sees the benefits for his career, he will follow willingly. Don’t worry about him.”
Po shouldn’t be surprised that ONER’s CEO knows another fact about him, but still. Earn spent a lot of time and money to make Po visually disappear from his past when his startup began to attract the press’ eyes. But nothing seems to be unreachable for this businesswoman.
“Why organize a fake interview for the job if you already had all the information you needed?” Po dares to ask.
“Oh, but we were lacking one precious piece of information: your personality, how you react to certain things, how honest you are, but mostly how high your social intelligence is.” Pemika gladly explains. “You are a good candidate on paper because you are single, jobless and with a restricted circle of friends. You are perfect for our plan because you lived several years with a partner who has soulmatism while you don’t, and most importantly, this is now in the past for several months and the other already started a new life of his own. And since today, we know that you are kind and not hot-blooded, which is the kind of person we need to handle such dramatic kids like Mars. You’re polite and have a good deontology, which means you’ll know how to be professional when you need to be. You’re also anxious about conflictual situations, but it’s okay, you just need a framework, which we will gladly provide you.” Pemika’s smile never wilts during her whole explanation.
Did this woman just say he was easily manipulable thanks to his anxiety?!
Displaying one last time her victory, ONER’s CEO pushes a contract in her victim's direction, gracefully like always, two fingers dragging the paper on the expensive varnished wood of her desk. Po has already understood that there is no way out of this. Reading all the little lines would only be postponing the inevitable, making everyone lose their time for a battle already won.
So, defeated, Po took the pen at his disposal, guiding the nib on the costly paper, sealing his fate.
The heart out of sync, I'm doing my best
[Le cœur en décalage, je fais de mon mieux]
I don't want to be tied down, give me some space
[J'veux pas qu'on m'attache, laissez-moi un peu]
To get my messy mind together
[Mettre de l'ordre dans ma tête en chantier]
**Thame's POV**
Somewhere else in ONER’s building, as his fate is sealed by someone else, Thame is running out of breath. At first he didn’t feel it. His body was so flooded with anger that he missed the signs. He is used to this, and in a normal situation, he would have worked on it to avoid his current state or at least would have found a quiet and safe place by the time the symptoms would have become too much to handle. But today, his soul-bond catched him unprepared.
So here he is, on the floor, in the fire exit platform he pushed the door of at the very last ounce of strength he had left. At least he didn’t collapse in the middle of a corridor in front of any random ONER’s employee. No one used the stairs in a building this high, not when every project in the company is treated as an urgent matter.
Being used to those symptoms doesn't make them more bearable for the young idol. Trying to breathe through your mouth like some carp stuck out of water just stopped working at some point. His throat feels impeded and wet, like some mucus is blocking the air from reaching his lungs. But Thame knows there is nothing in his throat, this is happening to his soulmate, not him. His throat is fine, the symptoms come from his brain, echoes from his sick bond. His rage from earlier just made his mind weak, duplicating the turmoil from another body to his own almost perfectly.
The panic mixed with hatred makes it impossible for him to use the breathing exercise his soul-bond specialist made him learn years ago. They are quite effective usually, but today Thame’s mind can only focus on one thing, too bad for his poor body already exhausted by rehearsal that now is losing this battle against itself.
Thame’s vision slowly blurs and loses its brightness. The floor under his back, drenched from sweat, is feeling less and less fresh as the singer loses his body’s perception. As he loses consciousness, Thame has only one thought in mind: ‘he won’t let anyone replace the one who’s already suffering this much. He will find them and show everyone how ONER is using him inhumanly. How they are using both of them to an extent.’
Darkness gathers him, freeing him from the physical pain coming from his chest and from the upheaval from his mind.