The Soulmate System

ARC I - 1. Your Glow Colour is Revealed in Childhood

Dylan opened his mouth to retort, but another wave of anxiety washed through his chest, this one forcing the air from his lungs. "I'm fine."

"Those bags say otherwise," said artistic designer Bryce Houghton, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

Another wave stopped him from immediately responding, this one like someone taking a sledgehammer to his chest; Dylan growled. "I'm sorry, is my insomnia funny to you?" he asked.

Bryce's grin shrank and he recoiled.

"He was only teasing," Chris whispered.

Dylan threw open one of the binders and sat down at the table. "Just tell me where you are so I can catch up." It was only when he began reading the binder's contents, flipping through the entirety of the first binder, when he said, "This is all worthless to me." Pushing it to the middle of the table, Dylan opened his laptop and began typing, his fingers aggressive against the keyboard. The table shook.

The well-deserved break in the centre of the day brought Dylan, Chris, and Amber together in the Break Room on the third floor – a quiet, windowless room with muted colours, a faded carpet, scattered tables with metal and plastic chairs, and three vending machines – one floor down from their cubicles.

"We get to work together again," Amber hummed, taking out her sandwich. "It's been...what, half a year since 'Charlemagne'?"

Dylan cracked a smile. "I can never live that down," he said. He waved the slightly soggy sandwich he made that morning in her face. "Don't remind me."

"You never did like the colour pink before," Chris said, snorting.

"God," Dylan breathed, shuddering. "Don't remind me." He took a bite of his sandwich, his skin shivering in disgust. And then was immediately followed by a wave of anxiety. "Fuck, I hate my Glow."

Amber put down her sandwich and reached across the table. "You're still wearing those?" Dylan leaned out of her reach. She sat back and sighed. "Dylan – "

"I don't want it to matter for me at this point," Dylan said. Glancing down, feeling another tinge of anxiety in his chest, he tugged on his shirt collar, lifting both his button-down and his Glow-Inhibitor undershirt and revealing a soft forest-green Glow emanating from his chest, up his neck, and towards his chin; he sighed exhaustedly and the shirt collars snapping back into place, continued eating. "A Potential Soulmate's nearby."

Chris glanced around the room, eyeing three other people from different departments. "Where?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" Dylan snapped.

But the remainder of Dylan's retort stopped when he heard his three favourite words mentioned in whispers – "defective, False Alarm" – at a table close by. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. 'I should be used to it by now,' Dylan thought, except he never knew when this would actually be true.

Amber sighed. "They know you're right here," she whispered, side-eyeing them as she opened her pop, the carbonation hissing. "That's just rude."

Dylan shook his head. 'It's just the world we live in.' But he stood up and turned, walking over to the table and pressing his hands firmly on the table. "If you shits have anything to say about me, say it to my goddamn face."

One looked away in embarrassment while another watched him warily. "I just – "

"What?"