Boss with Benefits

Vincent was not a person who loved crowds, but there was still a threshold where he perhaps could consider it bearable, and the one he was in right now was beyond that threshold.

It was so far away from it, it was comparable to the distance between the Earth and the sun itself, which was quite ironic considering the distance between him and the people around him was non-existent, just like his enthusiasm for this whole concert. Noise, noises everywhere, noises in every nook and cranny of the air, from the blasting music threatening to burst his eardrums—which was probably made worse by the fact that he was standing quite close to the stage already—to the loud shouting, sometimes borderline screeching, from the crazed fans wanting to express their excitement in probably the most ear-piercing way they could think of, paired with the surges of people constantly pushing him around like they were trying to find more space for themselves as if there was even any remaining place to breathe in the first place. This was definitely not where he belonged, anyone who had ever known him even just for a day would perhaps be able to guess that. Where he belonged was in his dorm room, alone, at his desk and buried in a pile of textbooks, unfinished assignments and the sense of doom looming over him as he wondered how in the world he was going to complete said assignments before the week ended, because he would rather be tortured by the voices of his own head than the voices of hundreds of overly energetic, rock music-loving maniacs.

This was not where he should be, which got him to question why he was even here in the first place.

"Wooooo! Let's go!"

Oh right, the reason was standing right behind him, also screaming from the top of her lungs before turning over him with a stupidly big smile on her lips.

"So? So? How was it?" She grabbed his arm while still bouncing as if trying to get all of her excess enthusiasm out. "That was an absolute banger, right Vince?"

"I suppose." Vincent shrugged before taking out a handkerchief that he used to dab her face with. "Geez Manon, you're full of energy tonight, huh?"

"Of course, because you're here with me!"

Vincent blinked a few times at her, seemingly caught off guard by her remark that was delivered with a nonchalantly joyful look in her eyes. "Because... I'm here?"

"Yeah! I mean, sure I've been waiting for tonight since forever, but I'm even happier that I get to enjoy it with you. It only happens once a year, after all!"

Manon hugged Vincent's arm, throwing him a huge grin that was beaming with nothing but utter joy as her light brown hair swayed along with her excited movements, curving the corner of Vincent's lips into an adoring smile.

Yeah, he was here because of this girl that he called his best friend, the person he would do almost anything for. Almost. Being in an uncomfortably tight space with an overbearingly loud crowd was teetering on that line, but for now, he would include it, and he was glad that he did.

Making friends in college was hard and there was a chance he would have to get used to not having any friends at all, that was what he was told by his family when he decided to pursue his culinary career he had always dreamt of at a university miles away from home. And unexpectedly enough, he was fine with it, if the life his roommates led was a reflection of what his days would look like with any close friends. Instead of getting dragged to parties every weekend, he got to stay in his room, either scrolling his life away on his phone until he fell asleep or, more often than he would like to admit, cramming for an exam he definitely shouldn't have procrastinated on until literally the night before. He got to sit in lectures in peace without anyone disturbing him with small talks, he didn't have to worry about people distracting him during cooking classes, he could be wherever he wanted, do whatever he desired, and made any plan without having to consider the ones he already made with other people. For many, leading a life such as his would be the equivalent of solitary confinement itself, one that consisted of simply enjoying his own company in silence as he washed his days away on the waves of mundanity. However, to Vincent, if it meant going about his days without having to worry his already loud mind over unnecessary socialization and putting himself in spaces that served him no purpose besides helping him "blend in", then he would happily follow those waves people deemed boring but was pure blissful solitude to him towards a freeing life void of friendships that added nothing to his happiness—he had had his fair share of them, those relationships that were created with a rushed start and ended up drifting away or breaking apart in a fit of anger just for him to realize they meant nothing in the first place. Therefore in college, in a fresh start where he knew no one at all, he decided it would be within his best interests to avoid them.

"It's not that I'm opposed to making friends. It's just that, I don't see a need to rush it. If I find someone I get along with, then sure. Otherwise, I'm not gonna dwell on it," that was his go-to answer to those occasional questions from his peers and family about his lack of friends. It wasn't supposed to mean much in his mind as it was merely a way to explain away his preference for personal peace and quiet, so when he caught Manon standing next to him in class that day one year ago, he told himself to just mind his own business—after all, there was no need to involve himself in excessive small chats that he had no energy to maintain and saw no point in in the first place, and he had been carrying himself just fine in that way. Therefore, it caught him off guard when he, without his knowledge, turned over her and spoke with a soft and curious voice.

"Hey, you alright there?"

"Honestly, not really." She muttered under her breath as she shot a downcast glance up at him. "S-Sure, I've burnt food before b-but it's—it's"—she gestured towards her product as she struggled to collect her thoughts—"it's never this bad."

Her disheartened shock slowly morphed into frustration as she continued. "It's... It's so burnt, you can't even tell it's not supposed to be chocolate soufflé, if you can even call... whatever that is a soufflé. Seriously, what is that? 'Cause I don't think a soufflé's supposed to be that flat. I might as well call it a freaking flan and people would believe it."

Manon paused to groan into her palm as she backed herself against the counter with her arms crossed, taking in a deep breath before sighing deeply with her shoulders slumping along.

"God, what am I doing...?"

Her eyes wandered mindlessly on the floor, her thoughts bouncing in all sort of direction until they all unanimously gathered to the same place when she noticed how quiet Vincent had been and the realization slowly sunk in, making her aware of the fact that she had been venting this entire time to this classmate of hers that she was barely acquainted with.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"How long did you put it in for?"

As though in sync, Vincent spoke up at the same time and that was when Manon noticed he was leaning down towards her soufflé as though trying to examine it.

"Oh sorry, uh—" Vincent straightened his posture and coughed into his hand. "What were you about to say?"

"Oh nothing, I—" Manon averted her gaze as she fidgeted with her hair. "I'm... sorry for dumping it all on you. It's not your problem."

Vincent hummed to himself as he pondered over her words.

She was right, this was not his problem, just like anything and anyone else he had sworn to never turn into his concern unless he absolutely must, so he himself wondered about the reason himself. He had not a clue, but if he had to make a guess, it would be...

"Just because it wasn't obligatory for me to help, doesn't mean I don't want to."

... her entire image as a whole at that moment, her shoulders slumped as she stared with exhausted eyes at her soufflé that had fallen so limp, it was probably denser than even the most clueless people he had ever had the displeasure to meet, her eyebrows furrowing a little as she took a small step back as though trying to escape the burning smell that was emitting from her baked good.

It could be the looming sense defeat mixed with disappointment embracing her whole body, or the fact that Vincent had been in her exact position so many times in the past whenever he attempted to make a new dish or one so difficult, it could make even the most skillful of chefs cry, or it could be a combination of both. Perhaps it was pity that he was trying to convince himself was the case, or perhaps it was the fact that when he caught her in that state, all those old feelings flooded back into him, the ones he experienced when a dish came out looking so horrendous, he questioned if he could ever mess up more than that, his eyes mindlessly staring at his failed product as a heavy weight of his foreseeable failure came crashing onto his shoulders. He could remember clear as day the self-doubts looming over his head, whispering unpleasant words into his ears that were paired with a crushing confusion about where he could have possibly gone wrong, and in that second, all he wished for was someone beside him to give him the answer, to show him where his mistakes even were without having to frantically look it up on the Internet and play the guessing game of which of the problems that showed up in the result was where he went wrong.

Perhaps, somewhere in his heart, he saw inside her his past clueless self and a feeling surged from within him, one that told him he wanted to be that someone he wished were there for him when he was in need of guidance.

"I—" For a split second, Manon found something stuck inside her throat, evidently caught off guard by his answer. "I—I appreciate it a lot, I—S-Sorry, I just don't know what to say to properly thank you."

The corner of Vincent's lips lifted into a small smile upon coming up with a clever response. "If you really want to thank me, start by telling me the temperature you baked this at."

A small giggle escaped Manon's lips as she felt some of the pressure inside her being released already and easing up the tense air around them. "Well, I baked it at... 190 degrees? Exactly like Mrs. Martin told us to."

"For 25 minutes, right?"

Manon nodded and Vincent glanced away, holding his chin as he pondered to himself until his thinking was interrupted by Manon.

"Oh yeah, I uh..." Manon looked away briefly as she rubbed the back of her neck with a guilty look. "I... might have continued baking it for another few minutes and got distracted..."

Vincent couldn't help letting out a snort. "And may I ask why that is?"

"It wasn't cooked, at least I thought so." Manon grimaced as they both took a quick glance at her burnt soufflé. "The center was still... moving when I pushed the dish around, you know what I mean? So I thought putting it in for a little longer would help."

"That's your first mistake right there. It'd continue cooking after you take it out so that was actually the right consistency. That, and getting distracted." Vincent chuckled and Manon followed suit.

"I'm guessing that's why it deflated so much?"

"Depends." Vincent crossed his arms. "Did you separate the egg yolk from the whites completely?"

Manon averted her gaze for a few moments with one hand on her hip. "Kinda...?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow at her. "It's yes or no question."

"Then I guess—no?" Manon knitted her eyebrows together as confusion made itself visible in her eyes. "I got a bit of the yolk in there but thought it'd be fine. It's just a tiny speck, it couldn't have been so bad that it led to"—Manon pointed at her soufflé—"this, right?"

"Actually..." Vincent paused for a little while as if trying to figure out the nicest way to say it. "Yes, yes it probably was one of the possible reasons your soufflé's so flat."

"Huh?" The confusion on Manon's face deepened. "How?"

"It's a little complicated, but basically..." Vincent tapped his chin before moving his hands around as he spoke as demonstration. "You see, soufflés pouf up from the egg whites, or more specifically, the protein inside it. When you whip the whites, you introduce air into them, causing that protein to form bubbles, and those air bubbles are the things that help soufflé puff up. Therefore, when you add in fat, AKA the yolk, those bubbles can't form properly, leading it to fall flat. That's why there should absolutely be no cross-contamination."

Manon fell silent for a few moments before replying. "So... no yolk at all?"

"No yolk at all." Vincent shook his head. "It might've been just a tiny speck, but that alone could go a long way."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

Both of them jumped at the presence of another voice and turned around to see their professor standing there, having returned from her phone call with a big smile on her face.

"Mrs. Martin!" Manon exclaimed after having her soul back inside her body. "How long have you been watching?"

"A while." Mrs. Martin chuckled. "I just wanted to see how Vincent'd explain it, and just as I expected, it was perfect."

Vincent gave her a small smile. "You flatter me, ma'am."

"I mean it, Vincent." Mrs. Martin returned his smile with a bigger smile. "You're my best student and you've proven yourself to be more than capable, not only with your potentials in the culinary world but also your kind and helpful nature. You're gonna make it big one day, I just know it."

To Mrs. Martin, it was simply an honest compliment to Vincent, and while Manon wholeheartedly agreed, it was also, to her, a reminder of the main reason she never talked to Vincent, or rather, the reason she had been too afraid to—Vincent was a different level from her, one way beyond where she was standing, and for that reason, it made sense in her mind for her to stay out of his way, to not trouble him with her incompetence and to not ruin his good work with their massive difference in skills.

Vincent was no doubt the best student not just in this class, but almost all of the other ones they shared, always getting excellent grades in both lecture and cooking classes, always asking the good questions, always doing everything right and always presenting the professors with flawless performances and spectacular dishes that never failed to stand out amongst all the submissions. That was Vincent, always shining in the spotlight, and back in the corner was Manon, the problematic one of the bunch, that one girl in the class who just always had to have something go wrong and make everyone else roll their eyes at her. So, when she unsurprisingly messed up yet again another assignment, she was preparing herself for the worst with Vincent standing there next to her after months of avoiding being anywhere near him. Perhaps he would laugh in her face, she thought. Perhaps he would shake his head in disappointment, wondering how in the world she could screw up something so simple, or maybe he would just give her a look of pity before going back to what she could be sure would turn out to be another job well done, as naturally expected from him.

Therefore, she was uncertain which one she was more shocked by—the fact that Vincent offered to help without a single trace of judgment in his eyes, or the fact that he continued to do so in the following days, making sure to check up on her every time he could and going as far as to give her words of encouragement whenever she got something right. And thus, there was a growing urge within her to just ask him what could've possibly possessed him to do this, which she gave into one day after class.

"What do you mean?" Vincent let out a small, somewhat confused laugh. "I just saw that you had troubles and decided to help, that's all. Was it... a bad thing to do?"

"N-No, and don't get me wrong, I still appreciate it a lot, but—I mean, like—" Manon took in a deep breath before sighing deeply, figuring that she should just head straight to the point. "To be honest, this has more to do with me than you, just—I don't get why you helped... me of all people."

"I... don't get it?" Vincent raised an eyebrow as they walked out of the classroom together. "What's about you that's so bad that I shouldn't have helped you?"

"I—Just—Look at me, Vincent. Look at us." Manon gestured her hands to herself then to him. "You clearly have what it takes to pursue this career. You're good at cooking, you're smart and you're passionate about it, and then there's... me."

They continued walking to the entrance of the building as she continued. "I wasn't even supposed to be here, I was never great at cooking. The only reason I'm here is 'cause I wanna be a food critic like my parents so they wanted me to know my way around the culinary world first. I'm just never cut out for this so I... I honestly saw no point in helping someone as hopeless as me."

Vincent fell silent, his eyes gazing into the distance for a few moments with the only sounds between them being their quiet footsteps under the peaceful afternoon sky, leaving Manon wondering what was it that might be going on in his head before he turned to her again.

"You're not hopeless, you just weren't given the chance."

Manon's eyes widened, her steps halting as those words replayed in her mind over and over again. "You... think so?"

"Manon, I don't naturally know everything. In fact, I'm almost afraid to show you all the times I've tried to cook something new." Vincent chuckled. "I've burnt food, I've overcooked it, chopped it too big or too small, left it in the oven too long, overwhipped it, forgot to add in an ingredient before it's too late, you know the drill."

"No one's perfect Vincent. Of course I know you don't always get it first try, but—" Manon paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "But you—But you still got it in the end, didn't you?"

"Yeah I did, so who's to say you won't figure it out too?"

Those words struck her like lightning besides her ears, silence falling around her as the realization slowly sunk in her mind, the one that told her that his words, indeed, made complete sense, so much so that even when she attempted to argue back, all that left her mouth was unintelligible noises as if every explanation she could come up with refused to go out and had chosen to tip-toe on the tip of her tongue instead.

"I understand being harsh on yourself, I've experienced it myself, but"—Vincent placed a hand on Manon's shoulder—"you can't judge your abilities when you haven't allowed yourself time to learn and make mistakes. The best lessons come from mistakes. Hell, some of the most iconic dishes in the world were created from mistakes."

"So..." Manon fidgeted with her sleeve. "You're saying there's hope for me?"

"Of course! Like everyone else, you've got potentials, you just have to realize and utilize them." Vincent gave her an encouraging smile. "I want us to try, okay? Even if it's not our best. 'Cause as they say, you have to make trash before you can make masterpieces."

Manon held her head low for a while as she allowed her mind to process each word from him before nodding with a newfound determination sparkling in her eyes. That was true, she was a human, and she was imperfect just like any human. If others were allowed to stumble on their journey to success as long as they picked themselves back up, then there was no reason she was an exception in any way, and all of a sudden, with just those words alone, a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, one she had unknowingly carried ever since her first day of university, as she let out a sigh of relief.

"I'll do my best, but you also have to promise you'll be there to see me make trash." They shared a laugh as they walked out of the building, feeling the chilly spring breeze gracing them the moment they took a step past the entrance. "Where's your dorm? Or do you live outside the campus?"

Vincent looked to their left. "Nah, my dorm's this way."

"Mine's over there too, which is perfect because..." Manon poked his shoulder. "Since we're going in the same direction anyway, why don't you tell me what it is that you wanna do?"

"You mean, like, what my goal is?"

"Mhm!" Manon replied with a curious smile as they headed to their building. "Like, my dream's to be a food critic, so what's your dream? I'm guessing it has something to do with being a successful chef."

"Something like that, yeah." Vincent spoke, completely unaware that a huge grin he had been trying so hard to suppress had escaped onto his lips and drawn out small giggles out of Manon. "This might be a little embarrassing to say, but I want to open my own restaurant one day."

"Hey, as my parents always say it, if you're gonna dream, might as well dream big!" Manon gave him a wide, optimistic grin. "In fact, when you do open it, I wanna be the first food critic to visit it! To spread the words, you know?"

"That depends." Vincent hummed to himself before shooting her a mischievous smirk. "Are you gonna leave a good review?"

"No promise!"

And thus, as quickly as the spring breeze following their steps as their shared laughter filled the air, what they thought was just a short-lived thing, a relationship that would fade out the moment they took different classes the next semester just for them to realize perhaps it meant nothing more than a fleeting acquaintance, turned into something so much more than what they could ever anticipate. Those occasional moments of Vincent coming to check up on Manon's progress turned into them being an inseparable pair during cooking classes. That unexpected walk together to their shared dorm building, one they thought was just a one-off event, became a regular thing in their routine whenever they both had classes that ended at the same time. As Manon improved on her cooking skills, something else grew along with it, and when they both realized it, it had already blossomed into a friendship beyond what they were expecting out of those short exchanges that week, but it was one they happily welcomed and would not change for anything.

One week together turned into one month, one month turned into two, two months turned into three, four, five... and without their knowledge, it had already been a year ever since that conversation none of them saw happening, not even Vincent himself, and there was not a day he wished he had just minded his own business like he usually did. In fact, if he was given a choice to return to the life of pure solitude from before or accepted Manon as a new part of it, he would choose the latter always.

He loved his best friend to death, to the point that when she begged him to go with her to their college's annual music festival he had no interest in attending the previous year, he felt he had no choice but to say yes even though he was well aware he did indeed have other choices. Despite that, however, somewhere deep inside his heart, he had an inkling of feeling that Manon, the surprise life sent his way when he was in the middle of thinking he'd contently graduate without a single person he could call a close college friend, wasn't the only person fate had in store for him in his midst of thinking he was perfectly fine with having Manon by his side as his best friend.

Who it could be and which role they would have in his life, he had no idea, but something in his mind told him they must have something to do with that spot on campus. That one specific spot between the buildings he sometimes walked past on his way to class that would make him turn his head to look with fleeting feelings flooding his heart, as though even when he was well aware there was no one there, he just had to check to make sure, to be certain he wasn't missing anything, and to reassure himself he wasn't making yet another crucial mistake. What that mistake was, he had not even a clue, and yet it was as though he had sworn to himself to never make it once more.

Perhaps that mistake had something to do with the visions that would flash through his mind in a moment so quick yet left an impact more powerful than he would like to admit to himself, those visions of a certain person disappearing from the building as quickly as they appeared in the corner of his eye. That person, Vincent had never been able to see his face. That person whose figure stood from afar, Vincent would often see yet was never given the chance to approach before he faded into the bright nothingness of their surroundings before Vincent awoke in his bed to find out it was yet another one of those reoccurring dreams. That person whose only noticeable feature he could catch was his auburn hair that fluttered like the butterflies in his stomach when he saw him. That person that felt so warm like the early sunshine that was of the color of his hair, as though he was the sun to Vincent's world. That person whose image was so faint yet radiated with such a brilliant sense of hope that just his presence alone filled him with a comforting feeling of happiness as though they had known each other since forever, leading Vincent to spend practically almost his entire life searching for him, struggling to decipher the meaning of those visions and dreams.

"You said you started having these visions ever since you found out you were an omega?" Manon took a sip of her coffee and continued once she received a nod from Vincent, giggling a little as she spoke. "Have you ever considered that's your fated mate?"

"If he is then he'd better show up faster 'cause this is driving me insane." Vincent feigned an offended tone that pulled a snort out of Manon that turned into a hearty laugh. "Jokes aside, maybe...? I've been having the same thought myself. Like, it can't be a coincidence I've been having visions of the same person for"—Vincent paused to count on his fingers—"six, almost seven years now?"

"Seven years"—Manon narrowed her eyes—"and they're still gatekeeping his face."

"That's what I've been saying, Manon." Vincent buried his face on the table. "At this point, they might as well tell me I'd die in a ditch alone and it'd be less frustrating than this."

"Did they give you some kind of hints at least?" Manon rested her head on her palm. "You know, like, his hair color? Eye color? Height of some sort?"

"Let's see..." Vincent averted his gaze to think, tapping on his soda can in the process. "I think he's pretty tall, around my height. Can't see his face obviously, but one detail that's been pretty consistent is his red hair. And... uh, sometimes I see him carrying a guitar—Oi, Manon, no. Bad."

"What?" Manon had on a mischievously innocent smile on her lips. "I haven't even said anything yet."

"I saw that in your eyes, you were grinning like the goddamn devil." Vincent narrowed his eyes at her as he waved his hand around dismissively. "No, it's not Philippe from our Communication class, so you can safely disregard that idea."

"Aww, why not?" Manon tilted her head to the side. "He fits the description, doesn't it? He's tall. Red hair. Maybe it leans more towards brown, but still kind of red, right? Haven't seen him play the guitar but he's pretty good at acting so... maybe it counts?"

Vincent chuckled softly. "You're really grasping at straws here."

"Hey, it's the only guy I can think of that the moment, might as well." Manon shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against her chair. "Plus, there's been rumors that he's got eyes on you, you heard of that yet?"

Vincent felt an eerie chill racing down his spine.

"Yes, and I shudder at the mere thought of that."

"Huh?" Manon leaned forward with her hands on the table to support her upper body, the teasing smile on her lips immediately gone with the chatters around them as she asked with a serious tone. "Why's that? Does he give you the creep?"

"I—Yeah I guess you can say that." Vincent tugged on his shirt collar as though all of a sudden, the air had become too suffocating to handle. "I may be overreacting a bit, it's—it's just, how do I say this..." Vincent held his chin as he furrowed his eyebrows together. "He's never really done anything bad, per se. Sure he did lowkey flirt with me a few times, I think, but it's not really the issue. Flirting isn't a crime after all, but..."

Manon raised an eyebrow. "But...?"

"But..." Vincent took a short moment of silence to pick which of the response in his mind sounded the best before ultimately giving up and sighing into his hand. "Again, I may be overthinking this, but every time he does, he gives me the heebie-jeebies. I just—I don't know, Manon. I really don't know why. I just know that every time I stand anywhere near him, there's this... raging urge inside me to get the fuck out of there."

"And hey, that's totally valid." Manon placed a hand on his shoulder. "I see it as your gut feelings telling you something's wrong, and sometimes that's all you need."

"I suppose you're right." Vincent gave her a small smile, which she returned, as he held her hand on his shoulder. "Thanks Manon."

"So, Philippe's out of the question." Manon took back her hand and crossed her arms as she leaned back against her chair. "Any other clue about this guy?"

"Well, if I'm not mistaken..." Vincent glanced away for a moment to confirm his recollection. "There was one dream where he was holding a child and calling her his 'little princess', but I'm not sure if that narrows it down at all."

"Shut up." Manon let out a dramatic and giddy gasp. "Don't tell me it's a single dad."

"I thought so too, but..." Vincent squinted his eyes with his fingers interlocked in front of his face. "That theory completely went out of the window when later in another dream, I was also holding that girl and calling her my daughter too."

Manon wanted to reply but couldn't find anything to say back.

"And then, get this—that's not even the weird part." Vincent clawed at his hair with his finger vigorously being waved around in frustration. "The weird detail that's been throwing me off is, I recalled seeing us getting her birth certificate and it said the year was... 1975?"

They stared at each other for a solid minute as Vincent watched the way the utter confusion slowly sunk its way into Manon's eyes.

"I—I don't get it—" Manon muttered under her breath, her body unmoving except for her expression which now had turned completely clueless. "I was like 'oh yeah, maybe they're showing you the future', like—maybe it means you'll adopt the girl or you'll have her with him, but—that just completely—What?"

"You see why I'm so frustrated?" Vincent pinched his nose. "They make no sense. How did we go from 2041 to fucking 1975? Surely they're not trying to tell me I"—Vincent shook his head with a snort of disbelief—"I don't know, travelled back in time just to have kids with this guy?"

As Vincent sighed exasperatedly with his hand holding his forehead, Manon joined him on the thinking before her eyes perked up. "You know what, I know you said it as a joke but what if that's the case?"

Vincent snorted. "Manon you can't possibly be—"

"No no, I don't mean it like that. Just—hear me out for a sec here." Manon gestured him to come closer. "What if, instead of giving you hints about this guy by showing you the future, these visions are actually showing you the past? And this guy was your fated mate in your previous life, and the girl was your daughter that you either adopted or had with him?"

Vincent blinked at her a few times before taking a sip of his soda. "That sounds so crazy, it might actually be true."

"Yeah." Manon spoke while Vincent stared mindlessly down at the table. "That'd explain the weird 1975 bit that came out of nowhere, 'cause it was in the past!"

"Now that you say it, there are quite a lot of details that support your theory." Vincent was unsure if what he was experiencing was horror or amazement. Perhaps it was both. "We were using some terms that I'm pretty sure only old people use, and I remember seeing a lot of those ancient phones as well. You know, the ones where you have to spin the wheel to dial? Who the hell even uses them now?"

"I mean—" Manon couldn't help cracking a smile. "There are those eccentric folks who want to show off how filthy rich and 'classy' they are."

"Yeah, so not regular people." Vincent returned her grin. "But you get my point, right? I kept thinking the surroundings always looked off somehow, now I'm finally finding out w—"

Vincent was interrupted by a voice hitting his mind, its ringing so faint and so fleeting, yet its presence alone was enough to, for a split second, pull him out of reality and turn all his thoughts towards its direction.

"I don't know if the afterlife exists..."

Another voice called out for him, temporarily taking him back to his surroundings. It was probably Manon, he at least thought so, but before her voice could get to him, it was driven away by the barrier of his mind, one that was built by the other voice in his head begging for his full attention, a voice he was oh so familiar with, drawing his awareness to a hand reaching out to him.

"I don't know if the afterlife exists, but if it does, I have one wish and one wish only."

As that hand caressed his cheek, his gaze was drawn to the person sitting in front of him, gracing him with a smile more radiant than the sunlight painting their skin with its early glow.

"I hope that in it, you're still my fated mate."

"Vince!" Manon's voice at last managed to hit him, snapping him back to reality to see an extremely concerned Manon leaning towards him from across the table with her hands on his shoulders. "Thank goodness, are—are you okay? You spaced out and weren't responding so I—I got worried is all."

"I'm alright, just—" Vincent took in deep breaths, trying to get back the air he didn't realize he had lost with his fingers combing through his hair. "That's what happens when I have those visions."

Manon tilted her head in intrigue. "Oh? Is it another one?"

"Yep, and arguably it's one of the least ambiguous one of the bunch." Vincent held his chin. "He said something along the line of... if the afterlife existed, then he hoped I was still his fated mate?"

Manon gasped, this time more genuinely instead of something merely meant as a dramatic joke.

"That—" Manon grabbed Vincent's shoulders. "Right there. That seals the deal right there. He's 100% your fated mate in your previous life."

"I-I'm still—" Vincent took a moment to find a proper response. "It's not that I don't believe you, but—don't you think it's... wild? That not only the afterlife exists, but I'm also getting visions of my past life, and they're trying to hint at who my fated mate is at the same time?"

"As you said, it's so crazy, it might just be true." Manon sat back down at her seat and took another sip of her coffee, sighing dreamily. "Man, wishing you were still his fated mate in his next life? You're really living the dream of a hopeless romantic, Vince."

"That..." Vincent gave her his signature shit-eating grin. "Or you've just been feeding me so many of your unrealistic dating expectations, they start popping up in my visions."

"Excuse me, I think you meant to say 'standards'." Manon huffed as she feigned an offended tone before making exaggerated pained gestures with an overly dramatic voice. "What's wrong with wanting to run after your lover who's getting on a train and shouting 'O my dearest, please don't leave me behind alone in this lonely suburban town. Take me with you, take my everything with you, for I'd rather die than live a life without you.'"

Manon fell silent for a while before, with a completely deadpan face, mumbled with a hint of surprise in her tone. "Oh wow, did I really come up with that on the spot?"

It took everything in Vincent not to burst out laughing. Unfortunately for him, his everything still wasn't enough. "Here I was thinking that was from another drama you've just picked up."

"That was a fire line, wasn't it? Maybe I should write a book." Manon grinned proudly, making it a legitimate challenge for Vincent to drink his soda without choking on it. "But... as romantic as it sounds, wouldn't it be so—depressing?"

Vincent's eyes perked up. "What is?"

"You know, that entire scenario, running after your lover who's getting on a train to somewhere miles away, with a chance they're never coming back." Manon averted her gaze as she sipped on her coffee. "Imagine wanting to be with a person you know you can't be with, wouldn't it be so painful? I'm here daydreaming about it, but man I'd be bawling my eyes out if it did happen to me."

Usually Vincent entertained those imaginary, less than realistic scenarios of his best friend merely for her amusement because that was exactly what he regarded them as—idealistic ideas she got from her daily dose of romance shows and novels that she would spend her time indulging in while gushing to him about the man she hoped to find one day. And yet, for whatever reason unbeknownst even to him, there was a sharp sting slicing through his heart. It lasted for only a fleeting second, and yet the pain it left behind lasted for an eternity, seeping into his chest in an excruciating way as though there was a knife sinking into it before twisting it, its blade cutting into each inch of his skin and sending the pain through each of his veins. It was as though it was an experience he was oh so familiar with, the feeling of missing someone he had never crossed path it, an emotion transcending the barrier of space itself and taking him back to a time he couldn't even recall yet found an agonizing comfort in, for it was a place he often found himself in.

With Manon's voice still ringing in the distant and slowly slipping away from his consciousness, his heart skipped a beat from the sting, the sorrows born from it leading his gaze forward to find the figure of his supposed previous fated mate from afar, the sound of his guitar filling the quiet air of the early morning with a sense of longing too doleful for him to describe.

"My dearest, can you hear it?
The words I wished to convey
The whispers of my heart
Calling for you to look my way.

But forgive me love
For I am but a fool
A fool for the dreams I wove
In the midnight veil we called our own.

So for now, I'll ask the dove
To send my love to the sky
For I hope that one day
When your eyes align with the stars above
Reaching you is the voice of my love
Eternally longing for you."

His voice, so quiet unlike his sorrow. His gaze, forcefully distant as though trying to pry his eyes away from the subject of his affection. His words, woeful in a way that was almost impossible to fully comprehend as though crafted only for his own heart to listen, and yet they were what Vincent's heart understood deep down. He understood them, but he couldn't tell this man whose face he hadn't even seen, for his own self in the vision was painfully aware he was not the person those words were meant for.

This feels so wrong, Vincent's past self thought as he gazed at the man through his half-lidded eyes, staying still under the blanket in order not to make the man notice he was awake. It felt so wrong, hearing those words born from the desires of the bottom of his heart, the longing dreams the man saw with someone different from Vincent. And it felt so wrong, holding onto the wishes that he was that person.

The man's voice continued ringing in the air along with the rising sun, lulling Vincent back into sleep. Perhaps in the dream that he was falling into, he would at last be together with him, even if his unhappy reality would be greeting him at the end of it.

"OMG!" Manon's excited squeal snapped him out of his trance, welcoming him back into the busy crowd that was his surroundings. "Finally finally finally! The thing I'm here for!"

"Huh—Wha—" Vincent held his head as he tried to adjust himself to the noises, and only then did he remember where he was and why he was here in the first place. "Sorry, I—spaced out. What's going on?"

"Oh, next up is the music club's performance!" Manon couldn't hold in her ear-to-ear grin. "I've been dying for this 'cause I heard the lead singer wrote the song himself."

Vincent chuckled and went in to dab her face again with his handkerchief. "I'm assuming this is why you wanted to drag me here so badly?"

"Oh yeah, and hey, can you blame me?" Manon tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Writing your own song is really cool, no?"

"I get what you mean." Vincent shrugged as they watched the crew getting the stage ready. "It's quite impressive."

"Plus... heard he's pretty cute, and he's also the guitarist." Manon shot him a teasing smirk as she lightly elbowed him. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

A small laugh escaped Vincent's lips. "I am, but whether I agree is another story. I mean, right here, right now? It'd be nice for sure, but that'll just be too convenient now, won't it?"

"Aw come on, it's not impossible!" Manon patted his shoulder. "People have found love when they least expected it, so why can't you?"

"You've got a point there." Vincent shrugged and their eyes returned the stage where the band had arrived, just waiting for the light to shine on their silhouettes. "To be honest, I do hope you're right too, but I'll also be pretty pissed if that's the case."

Manon snorted. "What, why?"

"'Cause, like, imagine this—" Vincent chuckled. "Imagine spending eight years finding this guy that you keep having visions about, trying to decipher your cryptic dreams that make you wanna pull your hair out every time, and turns out that all this time, you could've just walked to the damn music club, which is like, barely a few minute walk from where your classes are usually held? I'd be so mad that he's right fucking there the whole time and I just never bothered to che—"

"Can't count the years one hand
That we've been together."

Vincent's breath hitched when all of a sudden, all the lights turned on, shining on the entire stage and revealing everyone on it, all of whom was accompanied with a big, enthusiastic smile and a look of determination in their eyes, one that promised that by all means, they were going to do their best to deliver the most incredible performance in their life. The quiet air was now replaced by the sounds of upbeat music blaring across the audience who responded to it with screams of pure excitement, to which the band returned their eagerness in each way they could, playing their heart away with their instruments to create a harmonious tune, earning cheers from the crowd back that kept louder and louder with each passing second.

Loud. It was loud. Possibly louder than it had been the entire night up until this point, which would usually be the starting point for Vincent's endless rant about how he wished he was chilling in his precious peace and quiet in his room right about now, and how he swore he would "never do this again" while knowing damn well he would forget about it in his occasional extroverted moments or if Manon managed to talk him into it. And yet, despite all the blaring noises beside his ears, all of them were all drowned out, buried under the ground as though they never existed in the first place by the singer's voice, dominating his mind and becoming the only thing every thought of his was about along with... everything about him at the moment.

His figure, illuminated under the light and radiating with a brilliantly joyous energy, his movements lively and swaying in synch with the tune. His red hair, complementing his golden skin perfectly and fluttering with each of his step and glowing under the spotlight like the early rising sun, combing through the darkness falling over them all to take its place and welcoming another day with its warm shine. His eyes, green like the leaves shimmering with the dews of the previous nightfall, green like the most precious gemstones sparkling under the rays of light escaping through the veil of his eyelashes and bouncing off the surface of those gems to bring out every little spark there was in them. His two moles, adorning his cute face like two tiny stars handpicked from the sky. His smile, so radiant like the most beautiful flower in its full bloom, so optimistic with the dreams he carried in those eyes, so wide in such an electrifyingly charming way. And his voice, so passionately strong and so comfortingly familiar, as though he had heard it somewhere, from a land so distant yet so close by.

"I need the other one to hold you.
Make you feel, make you feel better."

Everything about him was captivating in a way Vincent felt he couldn't comprehend, and yet at the same time, it was one his heart knew he had witnessed way before this point, or perhaps, way before this life of his as well, if the millions of visions flashing through him at once weren't already enough of an indication.

"Getting handsy, aren't you?"

"You say it like what you've done to me is any better, Rody."

His own self in the vision shot the man a mischievous smirk, his fingers intertwining with his own and drawing out an audible gasp out of him that was thankfully masked by the lively atmosphere of his surroundings. At last, after eight years of waiting, of being stuck in the utter confusion of what his visions might mean, of being frustrated after each time he was denied the face of that mysterious man in his dreams who would give him butterflies every time, Vincent had his wish granted tonight and he was unsure how to feel about this.

Should he be happy upon finally seeing the face of his supposed fated mate in his visions? Should he be ecstatic upon, at last, receiving the "just know it" feeling his parents had talked non-stop about ever since they found out he was an omega, the feeling that was the telltale sign that the person he was looking at was his fated mate? Or should he be delightfully flabbergasted that what he had joked about with Manon merely a second ago was confirmed to be true, and that the lead vocalist who was singing his heart out on the stage was his fated mate, the man he had been seeing in his visions and hoped to one day lock eyes with?

For now, his answer would be all of that. He was feeling all of those emotions, but his visions waited for no one and continued to surge in his mind. Just before that, however, one thought managed to cross through the memories flooding every corner of his consciousness.

Rody, so that's your name... and what a beautiful one it is.

"You got me there." Rody chuckled as he pulled Vincent into his arms, eliciting a giggle out of him. "But really, you didn't seem like you were into physical touches before we dated, now you find every reason to touch me. What happened?"

Vincent turned his head back to look up at Rody. "Are you uncomfortable with it? If so then—"

"No no no, I don't mind. If anything, I love it." Rody planted a kiss on Vincent's forehead. "Just... wondering what changed is all, 'cause again, all this time I thought you weren't into touches outside of sex."

Vincent fell silent with Rody's hand in his own before responding with a quiet voice. "I guess—what changed is our relationship, not my preference per se."

Rody tilted his head in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Well—" Vincent took in a deep breath before continuing. "It's not that I didn't like touches, I just... was afraid of them, is the best way I can explain it."

"And..." Rody stroked Vincent's hair. "Why were you afraid?"

"Because I..."

Vincent clutched Rody's hand more tightly as he bit his lips.

"Because I was scared I'd fall for you harder when I—I shouldn't." Vincent sighed with his forehead resting on Rody's arm. "Maybe this is weird to say, but every time you touched me in any way outside of sex, like—hugging me, kissing me and h-holding me like you did, I felt weird. I fell in love with you more and more every time, and I... I was afraid to."

Rody stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly in order to ponder through those words before gently pulling him closer into the embrace as though he was holding the most delicate being in his arms. "I get it."

"You... do?"

"I know it's hard to believe, but I felt the same way." Rody's eyes were distant as he spoke. "Every time we were alone together, I was scared for the exact same reason. Scared that I was falling harder for someone completely out of my league and probably had zero chance to be with, y'know? Like, hell, I was still there wondering why you wanted to hook up with me in the first place, let alone think there could be any sort of feelings there."

"It's funny, isn't it?" Vincent chuckled. "We both wanted to distance ourselves to avoid facing our feelings, but we never stopped seeing each other."

"Well... I don't know about you, but for me, I know exactly why." Rody lifted Vincent's chin up before leaning down to kiss Vincent on the lips with their fingers intertwining once more.

"It's not a walk in the park
To love each other.
But when our fingers interlock,
Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it.
Cause after all this time
I'm still into you"

"It's 'cause my heart knew. It knew it only had you in it, and nothing was gonna change it."

"I should be over all the butterflies,
But I'm into you.
And baby, even on our worst nights,
I'm into you."

"Rody...?"

Vincent took a peek into the living room before fully stepping out from behind the door, taking a look around the room as he approached the sofa and there Rody was, lying there with his eyes closed and presumably sleeping, which was confirmed when he stirred awake at Vincent's gentle touches on his arm.

"Vince?" Rody rubbed his eyes as his blurry vision became clear. "I—What time is it? And why aren't you in bed?"

"I was until I woke up and didn't see you." Vincent sat down on the floor next to the sofa. "I should be the one asking, Rody. Why are you out here, sleeping on the sofa?"

With his half-lidded, somewhat still sleepy eyes, Rody let out a small laugh as he waved his hand around dismissively. "Oh don't you worry about it, I didn't even have a bed back at my old apartment. I'm used to sleeping on the couch so—"

"Rody."

Vincent was not one to interrupt people mid-sentence, but there were a few exceptions and this was one of it, and if it wasn't his tone that indicated he was serious, that would be it. As they stayed there in silence, their eyes locked with each other, Vincent's worries-tinted gaze dissolving whatever jokes Rody could come up in his mind in order to escape facing the situation at hand.

"Sorry, Vince." Rody sighed as he sat up. "I—I thought you wanted to be left alone."

"I did, but it doesn't mean I hated you so much that I didn't want you in bed with me. I wanted to calm down to think clearly, that's all." Vincent propped himself up to sit on the sofa. "But... I don't blame you. I was thinking and it makes sense why you'd think I hated your guts from a single argument."

"I..." Rody fidgeted with the blanket. "I'm sorry."

Vincent narrowed his eyes at Rody with a sting in his look. "You're doing it again, Rody."

"Doing... what?"

"Immediately apologizing for something that's not your fault." Vincent stared at Rody for a few silent seconds before averting his gaze with a sigh. "I'm... I'm sorry, Rody. That was insensitive of me."

"Vince—" Rody scooted closer to Vincent. "It's okay, you didn't —"

"No, Rody, let me. You deserve a proper apology." Vincent placed a hand on Rody's shoulder with a stern look. "I... I apologize for being insensitive towards your circumstances. You were forced to drop out, got into relationships with bad people and had to jump from job to job just to make ends meet. You spent your life trying to cater to other people's emotions, sometimes because you were forced to, so it'd make sense you'd have a more difficult time letting go of it to see things in a more objective way, I—I—"

Vincent paused to let out an exasperated sigh. "I was judging you using my own life without putting myself in your shoes, and for that, I'm really sorry. I should've known better."

Vincent took in a deep breath, seemingly to take back the air he lost in doing so with his eyes glancing away from Rody, his heartbeat increasing with each second he didn't hear an answer from Rody. That was, until his eyes were drawn to Rody by his small hearty laugh as he pulled Vincent in for a hug.

"Look who's overcompensating now." Rody kissed Vincent's cheek with a big smile as though all the tension between them from seconds ago was never there to begin with. "I appreciate the apology, but really, it's alright. You said 'sorry' like, three or four times in a span of the last minute already."

"Hey, it's different. This time, it was necessary." Vincent leaned in to return the kiss on Rody's cheek. "But seriously, you don't look as upset as I think you should be. How come?"

"I mean, I was. But it wasn't at you necessarily." Rody shrugged. "But then I was lying there, I thought about it and figured it made sense, y'know? You take no shit from anyone like, ever, so I understand why you were frustrated."

"Still—" Vincent hugged himself as though trying to hide away in Rody's arms. "I shouldn't have assumed you were the same—"

Vincent was sufficiently interrupted with Rody's lips that connected with his, shutting him up in a way that he was not at all complaining about.

"Oh just stop it, won't you?" Rody shot a cheeky grin down at Vincent that put a faint shade of blush on Vincent's cheeks. "I said it's fine, didn't I? It's a miscommunication from both of us."

"But the fault falls more on me—" Vincent's voice was muffled again by yet another quick but playfully passionate kiss. When they pulled apart, there was a smirk on Rody's lips that he wasn't bothering to hide, to which Vincent felt complied to return. "What, is this your new way to shut me up now?"

"I wouldn't say... 'new', per se. But definitely my favorite of the bunch." The sly look in Rody's eyes deepened before leaning in to whisper in Vincent's ear. "You can get... quite loud in bed, if you catch my drip."

A flustered, unintelligible noise escaped Vincent's lips, followed by a nervous giggle as he attempted to mask it with a teasing tone. "W-Well, there's a... different kind of drip from you that I'd like to catch."

Rody's eyes dimmed with intents as his hand snaked itself up Vincent's shirt. "Oh yeah? I wonder if you can tell me what it might be."

Vincent smirked as he traced his hand along Rody's jaw, his manners nonchalant as if he wasn't shuddering from Rody's touches that he was placing on his skin. "U-Under the condition that you get into bed with me."

"Easiest deal I've ever fucking made." Deciding that he had already wasted too much time, Rody scooped Vincent up into his arms like he weighed nothing at all, once again impressing Vincent with his sheer strength for the umpteenth time in their relationship that never failed to make Vincent wonder if there was a chance Rody was lying about surviving off merely fast food, before carrying him towards the bedroom bridal-style while planting kisses everywhere he could on Vincent.

"Then..." Vincent chuckled as he leaned his head on Rody's shoulder. "What's the second easiest deal you've made?"

"That's a no brainer, Vince." Rody shot Vincent a small but mischievous grin before throwing him onto the bed, towering over him with his hands pinned on each of Vincent's sides. "I'm almost convinced you only asked 'cause you wanted to hear me say it."

"Well..." Vincent returned the cheeky smirk right back. "Assuming that's the case, would you do it?"

Rody hummed to himself, pretending to think before turning back to Vincent with the same grin, but now, there was a hint of adoration in his eyes that slowly grew with each passing second.

"Absolutely."

Rody paused to plant yet another kiss on Vincent's lips, his hand interlocking with Vincent's as he spoke.

"The second easier—No, best deal I've made, better than the last one, is the deal I made with you last year." Rody slowly trailed his kisses down Vincent's cheeks and neck, drawing out small pleasurable sounds from him. "I was promised a boss with benefits, and I ended up with my fated mate, the love of my life and my wonderful boyfriend that makes every day so worth it. I got way more than what I could've ever expected, and I hope it forever stays that way."

From that night on, they promised with each other to never go to bed upset at one another, whether it meant falling asleep in each other's arms with the ease of knowing their conflict was solved or making up by keeping themselves awake, not to fight but to do something else together, something similar to what they did that very night and something just as deliciously passionate.

"Let 'em wonder how we got this far
'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all."

Rody narrowed his eyes at the newspapers as they scanned the words on the headline so giant, it was as if it was purposefully designed that way so he couldn't take his gaze off it even if he tried, while he slowly but constantly sipped on his coffee like he was trying to wash down the mix of anxious anger and doubtful woe threatening to jump up his throat and suffocate him whole, taking out of him every breath that was necessary to collect his thoughts. He knew this was going to happen, he was fully aware of what exactly to expect, and that was the very reason his heart sunk to the pit of his stomach when he received this week's newspapers that he had anticipated with dread for days. Hell, if there was any other reason he was terrified of facing his feelings for Vincent besides getting rejected in the most humiliating way possible while being laughed in his face about how far his delusion truly went, this would be it.

Funny how his whole life, he had thought about how amazing it would be to experience what fame felt like first-hand, to have the entire world's gaze on him as they listened with full attention what he had to say and what he had in store for them. And yet, now when his chance finally came, it scared him to his core, and sadly for a good reason.

"Rody."

A hand brushed through the top of the newspapers and gently pulled it down, drawing Rody's eyes upward to meet Vincent's, which were glazed with a knowing sense of concerns born from the awareness of what Rody could possibly be thinking of. Oh how he wished he was clueless of the reason Rody was reading the newspapers with a nervous gloom looming over him, so clueless that he would have to ask Rody himself in order to begin to guess what might be going on, but at the same time, he also knew it all was wistful thinking. Those doubts swirling inside Rody's eyes, he had once experienced them. The tsunami of anxiety that might be flooding his mind, Vincent knew all too well. The conflict between his rational side and the intrusive thoughts, each of which fighting to dominate his consciousness, Vincent was not a stranger to it, but what he couldn't be prepared for in any way was the fact that every emotion involved in that process would be multiplied alongside the rise of his fame.

In a way, he felt bad that he was the reason Rody was now sharing those feelings.

"They're talking about how you 'don't deserve to be with me', aren't they?"

Rody averted his gaze and Vincent took the silence as the confirmation to his words, eliciting a sigh from him.

"It's as we discussed, remember?" Vincent took a seat next to Rody at the dining table. "People are gonna speak their mind no matter what, but it doesn't mean you have to entertain them. And just because they're loud about it, doesn't mean they're right."

"I know, it's just—wild." Rody put the newspapers on the table and leaned against his chair, crossing his arms as he stared up at the ceiling in an attempt to comprehend what he just read. "I expected some hate, sure, but Jesus, the things people just utter and allow to be published without a second thought." Rody turned over to look at Vincent with bewilderment written all over his forehead. "To think you've been dealing with this for years. How do you do that?"

Vincent shrugged before taking a sip of his water. "You get used to it."

"I..." The confusion in Rody's eyes made itself more visible. "I don't think that makes it better, if you ask me."

Vincent chuckled before patting Rody on the shoulder.

"Well, that, along with reminding myself exactly what I told you." Vincent took a quick moment to shoot a quick glance at the newspapers. "Some people love to shout their opinions and it's up to us to decide if we want to hear it, and right now, I don't think there's any reason we should. I haven't even read it yet and I just know it's probably littered with their nonsensical tantrum."

Rody looked away once more, his eyes staring at his reflection in his coffee as he let his thoughts wander while Vincent continued. "Also, you have to remember that a lot of times, a person's hateful words towards you aren't a reflection of who you are, but rather a reflection of their mind. They hold so much hatred and don't know how to deal with them the right way, so they project it onto others. So, if you ever hear them saying you can't be with me because you're 'not on the same level' or whatever stupid excuse they come up with, remind yourself of that."

A small smirk climbed up Vincent's lips. "In fact, I'd even go on a limb and say some of them are just bitter they're not in your position."

Rody let out a snort, feeling some of the tension leaving his body along with it. "Man, no wonder you're a professional. I almost can believe you're not at all bothered by this."

"Again, I'm used to it." Vincent shrugged again. "Do I feel insecure every time I get criticized, still? Yes. But at one point, you just learn to filter out all the senseless complaints. Plus, I have other reasons as well."

Vincent paused to caress Rody's cheek, pushing a strand of his hair off his face as though to take a better look at it.

"Yeah, after all this time
I'm still into you."

"One of them being, I trust my heart, and I also know you trust yours. If our hearts tell us that we're meant to be, then no one's gonna convince me otherwise."

"Recount the night that I first met your mother.
And on the drive back to my house
I told you that, I told you that I loved ya."

"Oh my, oh my!" The woman who was nearly the spitting image of Vincent ran to Rody with a big smile before pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so happy to finally meet you, dear! Rody, was it?"

"I uh—" Chuckles escaped Rody to mask his nervousness while he figured out a way to respond to the sheer excitement he was totally not anticipating. "Y-Yes, nice to meet you, Mrs. Charbonneau."

"Oh the pleasure's mutual, dear!" She broke the hug but still maintained her hands on his arms. "Vince's told me so much about you! I'm so glad to be talking to the guy he's been gushing about every time he's on the phone with me."

"Don't drag him into this, honey." Vincent's dad let out a small laugh. "Because if I'm not mistaken, which I don't believe I am, it's mostly you that gushes about it, actually."

"Mom." Vincent joined in with a chuckle as he placed a hand on his mom's shoulder. "It took me almost thirty years to find this guy. Don't scare him away now."

"My my, you're right. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" Vincent's mom let go of Rody with her hand over her lips, though her enthusiasm still refused to leave her as she looked over to her husband then Rody. "I'm sorry, Rody dear. It's just that, me and his dad have been waiting for this day since forever, you see."

"Oh it's—it's fine, ma'am." Rody waved his hand around dismissively with a big smile to match hers. "I've been looking forward to meeting you too. I've also heard a lot about you."

"Oh have you really, dear?" Vincent's mom turned over him. "You'd better be putting in good words for me, Vince."

Vincent shrugged with his signature shit-eating smirk to match her energy. "No promise."

"C'mon, don't do this to your own mother!" Vincent's mom lightly smacked his shoulder as they all shared a wholehearted laugh.

"No worries, Mrs. Charbonneau. He has been." Rody spoke after the laughter had passed. "As a matter of fact, he told me a lot about your amazing cooking that inspired his entire career, which I've been really curious about."

"Then you're in for a treat, dear! Come on in, we can't let the food get cold, can we?" Vincent's mom grabbed Rody's arm and pulled him into the house. "And what's with the formalities? Feel free to call me Mathilde, dear."

Vincent chuckled as his mom practically dragged Rody towards the dining room as his dad followed, a huge excited grin plastered on her face as she did so while throwing questions at Rody faster than he could answer and only slowing down when his dad reminded her to not overwhelm him. Her reaction should've been expected considering she was unable to contain what Vincent could only describe as a squeal when he called her to say they were visiting for the weekend to introduce Rody to the family, to the point he could hear his dad from the other side of the phone lovingly telling her to chill out. Yet such enthusiasm, even though it was welcomed in any way possible, was not what even he was ready for, especially when he recalled the reaction he got from Rody's family the previous week.

To say he wasn't anxious about meeting Rody's parents would be a huge stretch. The night before that, with Rody sound asleep next to him, he lied in bed with his eyes glued to the ceiling as he replayed every possible outcome he could think of in his mind as if unless he properly thought about how to respond in each scenario, his mind wouldn't shut up about all those nervous thoughts prying his eyes open and preventing him from having a good night sleep. Rody had reassured him over and over that it would be fine, occasionally slipping in comments about how he was the one who should be worried instead, and while Vincent mostly agreed that he was probably overthinking this, there was an inkling of doubts resting inside his mind about the other possibilities he felt obliged to ponder. Would Rody's parents be accepting of him? Would they be happy for them or question Rody's choice of partner? Would they be supportive or point out how they shouldn't be together, even going so far as to say Rody were mistaken about Vincent being his fated mate? All those questions circled his mind until it was too tired and fell into a deep slumber before he was aware of it, and yet, nothing—and he meant it when he said nothing—could have prepared him for what came the next day.

Rody's parents weren't laughing, weren't angry, weren't sad, weren't doubtful, weren't smiling. Or at least, they were smiling until their eyes landed on Vincent. They were just... staring. Silently. With a blank face void of emotions. Or was it because they were trying to decide how to feel?

"G-Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Lamoree." Vincent spoke up in hopes of breaking the eerily awkward silence looming over the entire room, looking down to fix his shirt in the process in case that was the issue. "It's—It's nice to meet you both."

It seemingly took a few more seconds for his voice to finally reach Rody's parents' ears and Rody's dad, at last, responded with a loud, hearty laugh as he walked over to smack Rody on the shoulder. Hard.

"My god, Rody. You truly are my son, always a good jokester." Rody's dad continued to laugh with a smirk that looked as if he was trying his damn hardest to upkeep because it was on the verge of disappearing at any moment. "That's a good damn prank if I've ever seen one! Got Mom and Dad real good, didn't you!"

"Dad—Sorry Vince, let me—" Rody gave Vincent a gentle, reassuring pat on his shoulder before turning back to his dad with a deeply confused expression mixed with panic upon imagining how this could come across as to Vincent. "Dad, what are you talking about?"

"Still on it, aren't you? I have to say, I admire the dedication, son!" Rody's dad wrapped his arm around Rody so aggressively, it almost made him fall over. "And the fact you even got your boss to be in on it, too! You've really gotten better from those little pranks you used to do on poor Mom and Dad."

"C'mon dear, don't keep your boss waiting." His mom joined in with a gentle smile. "Let's give him a proper welcome and invite him in—"

"Mom! Dad! What are you even on right now?" Rody lightly pushed his dad off as he chuckled off his confusion. "Y-Yeah, technically he is my boss, which—I don't know how you knew, but I invited him here as my boyfriend! I told you so, remember?"

Rody's parents exchanged a long stare with Rody, then with each other, then with Rody, and the cycle continued for a few more seconds before Rody's dad's grin fell flat into a forced—or more accurately, more forced—smile and his voice got quieter, no longer in an unnaturally high, overly friendly pitch.

"Rody." He crossed his arms as he shot Rody something that could be described as a courteous death stare. "You remember what I taught you about not overstaying your jokes?"

"Yes, which I'm not," Rody said exasperatedly. "I wasn't even joking in the first place!"

"Rody, you—" Rody's dad took a pause and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are not telling me you're dating Vincent fucking Charbonneau—No, scratch that. You're not telling me he"—he gestured towards the coffee table where the newspapers lied—"the guy I just read about on the newspapers literally moments before you arrived is your boyfriend and fated mate. There's just—No—"

"But I am." Rody replied with a stern voice as he pulled Vincent close to him. "This isn't a joke or prank of any kind. He is my boyfriend and fated mate, and I brought him here today to introduce him as such."

Rody's dad seemed like he was about to collapse to the floor at any moment and had to hold onto his wife's hands for dear support as he tried to find every bit of courage inside him to finally look Vincent in the eye. "He—Sir Charbonneau, he's not lying, is he?"

"S-Sir, please, no need to call me that. Vincent is fine." Vincent gave Rody's dad a smile alongside a chuckle to release the tension pent up inside him upon realizing the real reason behind their reaction. "And no, he's not lying, I'm here as his boyfriend. It's a huge pleasure to meet you and Mrs. Lamoree."

Rody's dad exchanged yet another shocked, almost horrified stare with his wife before grabbing the back of Rody's head and forced it down into a bow that he joined in. "On his behalf, I'm terribly sorry for any inconvenience my son might've caused you. If he's done anything you're not happy with, please feel free to tell me and I'll make sure to give him an earful!"

"Wha—" A laugh was forced out of Vincent from the sheer absurdity of the situation while he helped both of them up. "Sir, please, it's alright! Again, I'm here as his boyfriend so please, treat me like so. There's no need to give me special treatment."

"Yeah, why are you two freaking out, anyway?" Rody rubbed his head. "I'm glad you're happy to see him, but I told you I'm bringing my boyfriend over, didn't I?"

"Rody, just—look me in the eye and say that again, I dare you." Rody's dad grabbed his shoulders and stared right into his soul with his teeth gritted. "You act like you wouldn't also be freaking out if one day I brought home—I don't know, fucking Martin Larue and casually told you he's a family friend. And I don't care you already told me his name, because you're absolutely not expecting me to think of this Vincent."

Rody brought his hand up and opened his mouth to protest before stopping himself. "Touché."

"Please forgive us Mr. Char—Sorry, I mean Vincent dear." Rody's mom approached Vincent upon figuring they shouldn't let Vincent just stand there and watch in confusion like that. "We just weren't expecting—literally a celebrity, is all. I mean, we've even seen you on TV from time to time. Surely you must know you're famous?"

Vincent chuckled and gave her a warm smile. "I understand what you mean, ma'am, but today I'm here as your son's boyfriend, so please see me as just that. We're here as a family, are we not?"

"You're right." Rody's mom returned his smile with a welcoming one before gesturing him inside. "Please, come take a seat, you've been standing here long enough. Would you care for some tea?"

Vincent nodded as he followed her into the living room. "I'd love that."

"I—" Rody's dad had his hand over his chin, struggling to find his words. "I'll need some time to process this, I hope you don't take it the wrong way Vincent—My god, it still feels weird calling you by your first name like that."

"Oh you'll have plenty of time to get used to it Dad, 'cause you'll be seeing him a lot as long as I'm still here."

Rody laughed while he lightly patted his dad's back, and it was only then was his dad finally able to relax and let out a big laugh, a genuine one this time.

"Then you'd better bring him over whenever you can!"

"You felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulder
And to your favorite song
We sang along to the start of forever."

"Rody, what was that song you sang a while ago?"

"Hm?" Rody murmured as he slightly shuffled under the blanket, trying to find a comfortable position to be in with Vincent in his arms in bed. "You mean the one I was practicing last week?"

"No no, I mean a really long while ago. Let me think for a sec..." Vincent paused with his eyes averted before humming to the tune that had been stuck in his mind for who knew how long. "I think it goes like... 'My dearest, can you hear it? The words I wished to convey...'"

Rody didn't answer, instead opting to widen his eyes a little as they locked with the wall in front of him then at Vincent, and Vincent took it as a cue to keep going under the assumption that he was trying his hardest to remember, leading Vincent to believe he could help by continuing.

"The whispers of my heart, calling for you to look my way. But forgive me love, for I am but a fool. A fool for the dreams I wove, in the midnight veil we called our own..." Vincent's voice was quiet as he kept singing the lyrics he could remember. "Ringing any bell yet?"

Once again, Rody didn't answer immediately and chose to bury his face in his palm before he realized he definitely couldn't avoid giving Vincent a reply. "Y-Yes... sadly."

Vincent raised an eyebrow at him. "Sadly? Why's that?"

"A couple of reasons, actually." Rody peered through his fingers, and it was then that Vincent realized there was a shade of light red blush tinting his cheeks. "First, it uh—That song... doesn't exist, you see... At least, in the sense that it's—it's not available to the public."

The confusion in Vincent's eyes deepened. "What? How can you be singing it when—"

Vincent cut himself off when the realization hit him mid-sentence.

"Oh..." Vincent's eyes widened at Rody, who tried to avoid his gaze by turning his own away. "Y-You're saying..."

"Yes—" Rody buried his face further into his palm and groaned loudly. "I wrote—Urgh—I wrote it myself, okay? Look, it's embarrassing, I know, just—I got inspiration that morning and s-since I got my guitar there, I just had to play it out—"

"Rody, what are you saying?" Vincent gave Rody gentle pats on the shoulder. "Why do you think it's embarrassing? 'Cause to me, it's quite an impressive feat."

"Is..." Rody removed his hand from his face. "Is it, really?"

"It is, silly." Vincent chuckle as he pushed a strand of hair off Rody's face. "I mean, think about it. Not everyone can just write a song, you know? It's a skill I think is very admirable. Plus, music brings joy the world, so in a way, you're bringing joy for someone, even if it's yourself."

Rody hummed to himself, pondering it for a moment with his hand over his chin. "I suppose that's true..."

"So..." Vincent reached up to plant a kiss on Rody's forehead. "No need to be embarrassed, alright? In fact, every time I remember it, I wanna listen to it again."

"Right, just—" Rody laughed softly as he stroked Vincent's hair. "I guess I'm also embarrassed 'cause you weren't supposed to hear it."

"Then you shouldn't have played it right next to me." Vincent moved closer to rest his head on Rody's chest, something he had unconsciously made a habit of probably due to how comforting it was for him to hear Rody's heartbeat. "But... I also can't say I'm not glad you did it, otherwise I would've never known such a beautiful song existed."

Rody was quiet, his fingers continuing to intertwining themselves between Vincent's dark locks as he gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. "You really love that song that much?"

Vincent took a moment to reply, his eyes staring out the window where tiny raindrops were landing on as he spoke.

"I do."

How long had it been since the song had been stuck in his mind, carefully reserved in a special corner of his consciousness, he had not an idea, but he knew it was ever since the moment he first heard it along with the image of the person singing it. Arguably even, he would say the latter was the reason it had left such a lasting impression in his mind, that figure engulfed in the lonesome space besides the window, that figure of a lonely person basked in the sunshine of the early rise, his eyes distant and his voice woefully beautiful, and that figure that was singing as though wanting to send his voice to the horizon so that one day, it could reach the person those lyrics were meant for.

"So much so that I wonder who you were singing about..."

"You caught on that much, huh? You're sharp as always, Vince." Rody's voice was quiet, almost inaudible. "Not sharp enough to connect the remaining dots, though."

"Hey, that's a little unfair, isn't it?" Vincent tilted his head with a small grin. "How am I supposed to know who you were thinking about?"

"Vince—" A small snort slipped past Rody's lips. "Just, use that smart pretty head of yours and think a bit more. Who's the person I was in love with enough to write all that?"

Vincent took a quick pause, his eyebrow raising with each second he spent thinking before he concluded to himself he had no other answer. "I don't know, your ex?"

"Oh my god." Rody buried his face in his palm to suppress his snickers that was a mix of disappointment and adoration. "I'm convinced you're messing with me at this point."

"I'm not!" Vincent protested but also couldn't hold back his laughter upon hearing Rody's. "Look, didn't you spend the first months working here talking about her? You're lying if you said you wouldn't also come to that conclusion."

"Okay okay, you've got a point there." Rody patted Vincent's back, barely hiding his amusement towards Vincent's pout. "But also, when I made that song, it'd been like—months after our breakup, and I don't think I was still talking about her at that point."

"That's fair..." Vincent rested his chin on his hand. "But besides her, I have no idea. Give me a hint."

"Alright, so..." Rody almost couldn't back a smirk as he thought. "I said I only sleep with people I'm interested in, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"And..." Rody spun his hand in a small circle. "Who was I sleeping with at the time?"

"M-Me...? But why is it relev—"

Vincent shut up once the realization, at last, sunk in, and he was unsure if he was stunned by the revelation itself or the fact that it took him an unbelievably long time to connect the two extremely close, almost touching dots together, in-between his shock being the curiosity of whether it was because the answer was so obvious, his mind blocked it out. Either way, he was sufficiently as red as a tomato now.

"Rody, you're the one messing with me." Vincent shot a look of disbelief at Rody, whose smirk was at its maximum width. "No, shut up, you're not saying—"

"But what if I am?" Rody reached for Vincent's hand to plant a kiss on it. "Who else could I be so interested in and give me such strong emotions? Who else could've captivated me that much, to the point I was heartbroken when I thought there was no way I could be with them? Hell, if it wasn't you, then I wouldn't even be here right now, you know?"

Vincent blinked at Rody a few times, as if it would help him process the revelation better, before burying his face in Rody's chest to hide his burning cheeks, eliciting a chuckle out of him. "You did not write an entire song about me, Rody..."

"But I did, and it's all because of you." Rody stroked Vincent's hair. "I guess that makes you my muse, hm?"

"Shut up..." Vincent murmured with his face still buried in Rody's chest and his hand gripping onto his shirt. "Just... why? Why me?"

"I told you." Rody gently guided his face upward to give him a warm, endearing smile. "You stirred up feelings inside me that I thought were impossible and every time I see you, every time I'm with you, I saw my entire future with you, even if... at the time, I told myself it was just wistful thinking. But I couldn't stop, I couldn't stop feeling like that and I had to find a way to... release all those emotions, somehow."

Vincent stared at Rody for a short moment before resting his head on Rody's chest again, his little hum sending tiny vibrations down Rody's body that Rody found an adorable sense of comfort in. "You... already fell in love at that point?"

"More in love to be accurate, 'cause I probably already fell for you when I saw you for the first time back in college." Rody let out a small, almost shy chuckle. "Sorry, is that weird? 'Cause if it is, blame our fated mate connection."

"No, 'cause if I said it was weird, then it'd mean I'm weird as well." Vincent laughed softly as he nuzzled his head in the crook of Rody's neck. "In fact, I think what's weirder is how at that exact moment, we were basically head over heels with each other but were both brooding over how we couldn't be with the other person and whatnot."

"Hey on the bright side, that's why the song exists now." Rody joked and drew a giggle out of Vincent. "With that knowledge in mind, do you still wanna hear it again?"

"Obviously." Vincent propped his upper body up on his elbows and caressed Rody's cheek before kissing it. "It was my favorite song I heard from you, and it still is now."

"Some things just, some things just make sense
And one of those is you and I
Some things just, some things just make sense
And even after all this time, I'm into you
Baby, not a day goes by that I'm not...

Into you. "

How long had it been since Vincent dozed off into the land of forgotten memories that had probably waited years for this golden chance to resurface, he did not know, but what he knew was that, when Rody's passionate high pitch snapped him back into reality of the present day, his image was still as gorgeous as it was in his visions. His image was still shining as brightly as ever like the smile that looked as though it had lit up the entire stage, his eyes that twinkled under the light above and his spirit that Vincent of the past fell in love with, the same spirit Vincent had fallen for once more in this life and probably wouldn't ever stop being head over heels for as long as the universe still existed and was as eternal as the seconds passing through them and taking Vincent along with them, making him unaware of its flow even after the song finally came to a stop and earned an energetic cheer from the crowd.

"T-Thank you so, so much for coming to the music festival and—and staying to listen to our performance, everyone!" Rody spoke, keeping his breath steady while regaining all the air he had lost in his show. "Did you all enjoy it? We hope you did!"

The audience replied with another synchronized cheer that was almost thunderous enough to shatter the night sky above, which brought a huge smile to Rody and his bandmates.

"Thank you! Thank you! We're incredibly happy to see that you did." Rody chuckled as he brought up another hand to hold the microphone. "And for me, I'm glad you love this song that I just—randomly got the urge to write, to be honest, so your support means a lot to me."

"Oh man, now I need him to put this song up on Spotify so I can loop it for a week straight. That was amazing, right V—?"Manon's smile dropped and was replaced by a look of curiosity when she turned over and saw Vincent just standing there, his entire body unresponsive as if he had left his soul somewhere. "Vince? Hey, Earth to Vince!"

"Huh—Wha—" Manon's tap on the shoulder was what finally snapped Vincent out of his trance. "Y-Yeah? What's up, Manon?"

"I know the song was good but was it that good?" Manon snickered. "You were completely out of it, man. You okay there?"

"I'm—I'm alright but I—I—"

"Well, I guess it's not really random if I really think about it." Vincent was interrupted by Rody, who stopped his short pause to continue his speech. The crowd was silent but carried an air of intrigue, giving Rody the cue to continue with an almost shy voice as he averted his gaze for a moment. "This might be strange to say but... this song's dedicated to someone special, my fated mate who I've... never met."

The audience gave him a united gasp that begged him to elaborate, including Manon with her jaw so agape, it was almost touching the floor.

"No way..." She muttered under her breath, her eyes wide while the people around them engaged in their own chatters about it. "It's—romantic in a way? Still, how do you write a whole song for a person you've never met? Let alone know they're your fated mate—"

Her breath hitched when a realization hit her mind, to which she slowly turned her head over to Vincent, who mirrored her look of disbelief when he returned her gaze. In fact, he seemed as though there was a conflict raging inside his mind about whether it was shock that he was experiencing or bewilderment upon seeing his suspicion was shared. Or perhaps was it a mix of both, sprinkled in it a twinkling of hope that maybe, just maybe, what they were thinking of was true?

"Unless...?" Manon grabbed Vincent's arm. "Vince, are you thinking...?"

"That's what I was gonna tell you, Manon." Vincent's voice was nearly inaudible, still not quite recovering from the initial shock. "W-Why do you think I was quiet this entire time?"

"Oh my god..." Manon's face kept on carrying flabbergasted expression from moments ago. If anything, it had sunken deeper into her eyes. "I—I was joking, you know? Don't tell me—"

"Y-Yeah, my visions went berserk when I saw him, and—" Vincent's voice quivered slightly. "And that's not even the most important part."

Manon's eyes were glazed with wonders with a hint of anxious anticipation. "Which is...?"

Vincent took in a deep breath.

"His face... I saw it, and"—Vincent glanced up at Rody—"that's him, right there."

The silence between them was deafening after that and was only broken by Rody's voice.

"I know you may be thinking 'How do you know they're your fated mate if you've never met them?' And I get it." Rody scratched the back of his head as he continued. "But—again, this may sound weird, but for many years now, I'd see visions of them—No, visions of him, and I have a feeling they're trying to tell me something."

What exactly was that something, Rody still had not an idea. In fact, he would not have an answer if someone were to ask him how he was so sure those were actual visions of a real person and not merely figments of his imagination, fragments of the future he conjured up all in his head with the main motivation behind it being the dream he had always carried ever since he found out the concept of a fated mate, which was further solidified in his head the day he found out he was an alpha and in fact was capable of finding his own aforementioned fated mate. What started out as just a concept that existed in this world became something that came straight out of the fairytale for him, something so magically romantic, he thought it could only exist in fictions. A connection that was mostly only possible between an alpha and an omega meant to spend the rest of their life together like the sun and moon, like the sunrise and sunset, and like two pieces of puzzles designed to fit one another, with a special feeling that was the ultimate signal to their bond, and he couldn't think of anything more enchanting that that. Therefore, when there came a time someone questioned why he so strongly believed that the person in his visions was out there somewhere, that would be it—he just knew it, exactly like the "just know" feeling that was always used to describe that special, once-in-a-lifetime connection.

Funnily enough, they said it was supposed to be such a wonderful feeling, something truly out of this world and something totally unlike anything else, even romantic emotions you could have towards anyone that wasn't your fated mate. To say he completely doubted it wouldn't be correct, but that feeling that was meant to be amazing had also thrown at him a significant amount of frustration. In fact, he would even say it was one of the reasons he was so unhappy with his dating life. 

His entire lifetime had not lasted too long but it had not been short either, and in the twenty-one years he had been in this world, he found himself not falling for many people, and whenever he did, the feelings faded out before he even had the chance to consider the possibility of being with that person, gone with the flow of time itself and leaving behind more questions than it answered, along with a tiny speck of irritation that slowly added up with each time it happened. It was as though whatever was happening behind the scene had something else up its sleeve. What it was precisely, he wasn't sure, but he was certain that it was doing its damn hardest to make him halt in his track every time he even thought of taking another step towards pursuing a relationship with someone he was even slightly interested in at the time. At this point, it confused him whether it was helping him find his fated mate or if it was merely his commitment issue in disguise. He desperately hoped it was the former and truth be told, he was pretty confident in it being the former, but he would also be lying if he said this wasn't starting to become somewhat annoying to be constantly held back by his intuition—that voice that rung in his mind every single time he even had a tiny inkling of thought about liking someone romantically, and the voice he was pretty damn close to just ignoring the next time he heard it.

But of course, that was just an empty threat he made to himself because he, in fact, did not ignore it when it popped up again in his head this morning the moment he woke up, telling him over and over again that something was going to happen tonight so he had to be there no matter what. "I'm gonna be there regardless, I have a show to do," he said in response to the voice that had curiously gotten way more desperate than normal, causing it to be restless the entire day as if nighttime couldn't be here sooner. What got it so eagerly anxious for tonight to arrive, he still didn't know considering nothing had happened yet and it was almost at the end of the festival, but then again, it wasn't like he had any high hopes in the first place. He would even go as far as to question why he even trusted the voice with this at all, knowing it loved to mess with his dating life like it had always done, but one thing it had told him that he was sure he could believe in was the fact that even if his fated mate wasn't here, he likely was still out there somewhere else, waiting for the day their gaze aligned. That was the entire reason he was still able to hold onto the hope of finding him one day, of arriving at that day with him, along with the belief that someday far away, this all would be so worth it.

"I may not be able to see his face but I saw everything else." Rody continued, on his lips a newfound optimistic smile. "I saw the feelings he gave me, I saw the memories we shared together, and those moments are what inspired this song."

"Vince! That's it! There it is!" Manon grabbed Vincent's shirt and lightly pulled him down, the shock on her face subsiding for an excited smile to jump up her lips as she whisper-shouted into his ears. "The visions! The visions! He saw it too, and he was in your visions! He has to be your fated mate, there's no way he's not after all this!"

Vincent's eyes frantically glanced from side to side along with his heart that was also panicking inside his chest. "Y-Yeah, I get what you mean, b-but what do you want me to do about it—"

"Go, dumbass!" Manon slammed her hand behind his back and pushed him forward. "Go up there, get his attention. Just—get him to see you somehow!"

"W-Wait, Manon—But—"

"The hell you hesitating for?" Manon whisper-shouted more loudly while she kept on pushing him to the front of the stage. "There's literally no better chance to do this than right now! C'mon, haven't you waited years for this moment?"

Vincent wasn't sure if he wanted to protest or listen to her. At the very least, he wasn't putting up a fight against her pushing him closer to the stage and he wondered if that was indicative of anything. "I—I know but still—Isn't this a bit—"

"It's a little silly, dedicating this song and speech to a person who's probably not even here, but hey, at least we got a good show out of it regardless, right?" Rody's eyes were distant as though those nagging feelings he mentioned were leading his gaze around the crowd before he let out a small laugh. "But that's enough of my little speech. I appreciate you all listening to my silly story behind my song."

"Quick, he's leaving!" Manon mustered up every strength inside her to shove Vincent through the crowd. "Hurry! At least get him to notice you!"

"W-Wait!" Vincent, unsure what he wanted to do still, panicked the closer he was to the stage and Rody, but also felt no need to stop her. "S-Slow down, l-let me think—"

"The night's still young..." Rody said with the enthusiastic voice he regained to announce their departure. "And we still have many great performances to go, so we'll leave it to them!"

"Think about what?" Manon raised an eyebrow at Vincent. "You're not telling me you're having doubts now."

"N-Not really but—" Vincent's words were jumping around on his tongue and on the verge of slipping through his lips in incomprehensible sentences. "It's just—It's a bit sudden is all. And right here? I—"

"Once again, thank you so much for sticking around and—"

Rody interrupted himself when he spotted some noticeable movements in the crowd. Must be a fan, he thought as he smiled to himself. Rody was not one to brag and he kept conversations about this to a minimum, only bringing it up when necessary, but without intending to, he had curated a fanbase within his college, leading him to occasionally have people running to him on campus to ask for a photo or give him gifts. It was a small fanbase, probably only consisting of people currently attending this university, but it was one he didn't even think he would even get and couldn't be more grateful for—"What do you mean, there are some people who like me that much?", that was what he asked himself whenever he was hit with the realization of the existence of his fans that he inspired merely with his dad's guitar that was given to him on his thirteenth birthday and his voice that loved to sing at random, following along either with a tune in the background that happened to be his favorite or one playing in his mind and just had to get out by dancing on his lips. To say he had gotten used to it would be wrong, if there would be a day he was used to it at all, but one thing he was sure of was the fact that he would return these fans the same appreciation they had shown him, to which he slightly leaned down with his hand ready to extend out if the moment called for it.

"Actually, is there anyone who'd like to say something?"

Rody smiled as he looked around while still mainly focusing on the two people who originally caught his attention in the audience.

"If there is, feel free to speak up! Maybe you have any suggestion, a question for other band members also? Whatever you have in mind, we're all e—"

That was, until all of a sudden, not only was his voice cut off, but it was also the entire silent air of their surroundings that was pierced through by an ear-splitting screech of his microphone crashing against the stage. Despite that, it was still nowhere as loud as what the tangled mess that was the state of his mind at that very moment when his gaze landed on those eyes that were the clear water surface that had absorbed the deep night sky above, sparkling from the most beautiful stars carefully picked from the galaxy, so beautiful that their shine blurred everything else around Rody as though making sure his attention was focused on them and only them. And that, they already succeeded at the moment Vincent came through the crowd and stepped into Rody's vision, and Rody wondered if Vincent was also feeling the flood of emotions engulfing him whole from the look he was giving him.

Wait, why do I know his name?

That question was short-lived as it was immediately answered by the visions racing through his mind, flickering through the little space between them that they could call their own while each second felt like an eternity, but it was the eternity he would throw himself in as long as Vincent was there with him, as long as he could keep getting lost in those eyes that seemed so familiar as though he had spent forever staring into them many times before, and as long as he could keep being embraced by that warmth he found in Vincent that brought him a sense of comfort that was different in a way he couldn't describe.

"G'morning Vince!"

"Aww, I thought that joke was clever. C'mon Vince, you gotta give me that much."

"What do you mean, no one thinks about that normally? Vince, you're telling me you've not once thought about how many people in the world is doing the exact same thing as you right now?"

"You alright Vince? You look like you got no sleep—Oh, you really didn't?"

"Something's bothering you, Vince? You... wanna talk about it?"

"You're so beautiful, Vince."

"Seriously, has anyone told you how gorgeous you look? I can almost just... keep looking at you without getting bored."

"Tell me Vince, who do I need to have a friendly chat with this time? It'd better not be Philippe, although I wouldn't mind beating some sense into him again."

"Vince, is it selfish to wanna keep you to myself? It probably is, huh? I know you'd tell me that much if you were awake to actually hear it. And you know what the sad part is, Vince? It's that... I'd agree with you. I'd wholeheartedly with you how silly it is, how delusional even, to think I have any chance with you. And you know Vince, it fucking hurts, more than I'd ever be willing to admit out loud."

"It hurts to see you laying here, sleeping so beautifully next to me, while I have to keep reminding myself I'll have to give this up one day. I don't know what hurts more, the fact that I know I can't have you, or knowing it's probably for the best. I won't lie, my heart breaks at the thought of you falling into someone else's arms, but... the universe knows better, it knows you deserve better, and that better isn't me. It hurts, Vince. It hurts so damn much to agree. You do deserve so much more. At the very least, you deserve someone better than me."

"I mean, look at you, a young successful chef with such a bright future ahead of him, and here I am, still unsure what the hell I'm doing with my life. Just a random guy who somehow got lucky enough to be in your bed, and a coward who's using this moment to confess his feelings because he's too afraid to tell you. Yeah... Yeah, I'm a coward, Vince. I'm a goddamn coward and a fool. I'm a fool for thinking this could mean something more but I'm too much of a coward to actually end this, because the fool inside me wanna cling onto every moment I have left with you until I can't anymore. But the very least, I'm a self-aware fool. Haha... that's a little pathetic, isn't it Vince? I'm pathetic, Vince. I'm pathetically in love with you, but hey, at least I know to let you go when the time comes."

"Vince, I know what I'm about to say is pretty pointless considering you're not easily influenced by anything. You don't tolerate any nonsense and you know what you want without the need to care for anyone's meaningless opinions, which I admire you so much for. Still, I wanna tell you this 'cause I think it's necessary. Vince, and I know this is unlikely, but when this comes to an end and there's any chance you feel bad for me for any reason, I want you to forget about it and chase after what and who makes you happy, okay? Because ultimately that's what matters the most. It'll hurt to see you leave, but it'll hurt more to see you hesitate for my silly selfish feelings. Your happiness is my own, even if your happiness doesn't have me in it, so I'll be fine watching you from afar. Maybe. Hopefully... God I'm so stupid."

"Morning, Vince. Did you sleep well? W-What do you mean, what was I saying? I was sleeping like you. I—I must've been tossing around and you mistook the noise for me talking, maybe? Yeah... Yeah, that must be it."

"Alright, alright, I admit that time, I was really talking. I just—I wanted to let out my feelings for you 'cause keeping them in all the time hurts, you know? But I was too scared to tell you directly so I took the chance when you were asleep. I know, I know, it's really embarrassing, you can make fun of me all you w—What do you mean, you were also doing it...? Oh my god, we're so goddamn pathetic. But hey, at least it means we're also pathetically perfect for each other, aren't we Vince?"

"Vince, I can't see myself with anyone else, and it's—it's not only because the universe has decided so. My mind only thinks of you when I ponder my future and my heart only has you in it. I've thrown the key to my heart somewhere and I don't wanna bother finding it, because I have no intention of ever welcoming someone else into it. You're not just my fated mate. You're the love of my life, the reason I find motivation to wake up every day, the person that puts a smile on my lips every time we talk, and my perfect other half. I love you Vince, I—I love you more than I can ever properly describe, and for that, I wanna make it up by continuing to tell you how much I love you until the end of time. Vince, will you marry me?"

"I'd marry you again if I could. Hey, why are you laughing? I mean it, you know. You just looked so... beautiful that day Vince, so... mesmerizingly gorgeous, and I'd do it all over again just to say 'I do' once more to the literal angel that you are. Hmm... how about a vow renewal for our next anniversary?"

"You keep telling me I'm too much of a hopeless romantic, but hey, you knew what you were signing up for when you married me, didn't you Vince? Plus, aren't you the one who kept asking me to play the song I wrote for you? Hm? What, no, I love it actually. I'd happily do it every single time because I love it, and I love you."

"Vince, this is really cute but... could you explain why you gifted me a baby onesie? I-I'm sorry, my brain might be too slow, but I don't remember asking for one and Ellie's grown out of her baby clothes alre—Wait, Vince, you're not telling me... No, no way. No fucking way, a-are you pregnant? H-Hey, s-stop laughing and answer me! Alright, that's it, I'm not putting you down until you tell me! Ellie, sweetie, you're getting a sibling!"

"Vince, tell me if I'm strange for this, but I fall more for you every day. Like, at this point, I'm so into you, it's crazy. I'm not even trying to be cheesy, just—every time I look at you, I just think to myself 'How in the world I'm married to a guy this handsome? Out of all the people in this world, all the people who'd kill to have a chance with you, you're just gonna tell me I get to be your husband and have two actual kids with you?' But hey, it's a kind of crazy I'd never change for anything."

"I love you Vince..."

"Vince..."

Vince.

The name rung inside Rody's mind once last time, its tune distant as it faded into the nothingness of his consciousness, guiding his hand through the land of forgotten memories once more before arriving at the gate leading him back to reality where a few seconds had passed, and he realized he probably should do something so the silence wouldn't last for longer than what would be acceptable.

"I—Uh—" Rody quickly got down to pick up his microphone, almost falling over in the process, as he spoke through his choked up voice. "W-Well, i-if there's nothing else then—then we'll be taking our leave for the next p-performance! T-Thank you, everyone!"

With that, with his heels hastily turned, he bolted off the stage quickly, praying to the moon above that his escape was subtle enough to not make it obvious that his heart was about to jump out of his chest any moment. He was so busy praying to the moon that he didn't realize he didn't even leave enough time for his bandmates to catch up, which got them sharing confused glances together before following suit when people started preparing for the stage for the next group. Meanwhile, the audience was engaging in their own discussion about it, exchanging chatters about what they suspected just happened that got Rody so shaken up to the point the microphone slipped out of his hand, as though all of a sudden, all the strength he possessed inside his body was fully focused on keeping him standing upright and not anything else.

"Isn't that exactly how you reacted when you met your fated mate too?"

"Y-Yeah, don't tell me..."

"Hey, didn't he say the song's for his fated mate that he's never met?"

"Exactly, you thinking what I'm thinking? 'Cause dude was freaking out there."

"Oh my god, so is his fated mate really here? Now I wanna know who that is."

"Crazy to think he's standing in the same place as us, isn't it?"

"Man, whoever it is, lucky guy."

"Say, I wonder if his fated mate saw him too. He must have, right? Considering he's here and all that."

Indeed that aforementioned fated mate did see Rody, and amidst his recovery from that fleeting yet so magnificently magical experience amongst the chaotic energy of the audience surrounding him, he blurted out what his mind was begging him to do.

"I have to go."

"What—Vince?" Before Manon could have the chance to process what was it that he meant, Vincent had already turned on his heels and started making his way to the left and out of the crowd. "Vince! Where are you going?"

"I have to go see him, Manon!" Vincent briefly turned his head back to respond, letting Manon catch the franticness in his eyes. "Y-You can stay here if you want, but I—I can't hold it off. I promised him!"

"As if I'm letting you go alone—H-Hey, wait for me! And promised what?"

It was the same promise Rody was pondering at the back of the stage, and he would've immediately run straight out of there to keep his words with Vincent if he wasn't currently in the corner struggling to regain the air he had lost in that moment that was so short-lived, but in those short seconds, he felt like he was pulled into what he could only describe as a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience, something that sent butterflies across every vein of his body and made his heart go insane in such a way he not only was surprisingly alright with, but also loved so much that he hoped for another chance to experience it.

Somewhere in his mind, he wondered if this was the "just know" feeling he had heard so much about. Because if it was, then it was just as he had suspected—no matter how much he readied himself for it, it was just beyond anything he could've anticipated.

"Rody, you okay there?" The keyboardist gave Rody a tap on his shoulder, jolting him out of his trance.

"Oh, Rick—" Rody took a pause to take in another deep breath. "I'm—I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Richard crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Rody. "I don't think so, if you ask me. It's like you saw a ghost and ran off. What's up?"

Rody fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, his eyes glued to the ground before returning to Richard. "I... I guess that's somewhat correct?"

"Somewhat?" Richard slightly raised an eyebrow in intrigue, chuckling a little as he spoke. "What do you mean, you 'somewhat' saw a ghost?"

"N-No, not a ghost, but..." Rody leaned his back to the wall of the building behind the stage and let out a sigh with his hand over his forehead. "You remember how I said I wrote the song for my supposed fated mate?"

"Yeah, the guy you said you kept seeing in your visions, right—" It only took a few seconds after Richard barely finished his sentence before he caught on what Rody might be onto with the question. "Wait, did you see him?"

"Dude!" The drummer who was putting away their instruments nearby joined in with an expecting grin. "Please please please tell me you did!"

"Y-Yeah, in the audience."

"Yooo! Shut up!" The drummer smacked Rody's shoulder in excitement. "He got to hear the song you wrote for him! I can't think of something more epic than that!"

"I—I suppose you can say that, Noah." Rody buried his face in his palm, his quiet voice muffled. "This might sound cheesy but I—I didn't see a ghost. Quite the opposite, actually. I—I think I saw an angel."

"Is that so?" Richard leaned in with a teasing smirk. "Was he that cute?"

"He—He was." Rody slightly moved his hand down so now it was only covering his mouth and a bit of his flushed cheeks. "Just—I don't know what happened back there, but—but seeing him standing there got me weak, like, I suddenly forgot where I was to begin with. It was... truly an experience that I don't think I can ever describe to you."

"Oh brother, someone's in love already." Richard snickered along with the drummer as he patted Rody's shoulder. "But hey, we're happy for ya. You did tell us how you've been looking for him your whole life, didn't you?"

Rody gave them both a smile. "I did, thanks guys."

"Say..." Noah glanced at the front of the stage. "Shouldn't you go say hi to him? You two might not get another chance to see each other again after tonight."

"Right—But I'm debating whether I should wait for everyone to leave? 'Cause"—Rody followed Noah's eyes towards the crowd who was now cheering at the top of their lungs for the current performance—"I don't know if I can find him in that. Might get unwanted attention too."

"Fair, but you also risk him leaving early." Richard tapped his chin. "But then again, if he was in there, then I'm assuming he saw you too, yes? And you said this fated mate thing is mutual?"

"Yeah, that's what I've been told at least." Rody said with his eyes still at the row of people closest to the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of Vincent. "So I'm pretty confident he also felt i—"

"Vince! Wait for me!"

A voice broke the flow of their conversation, but the reason it caught Rody's attention amongst the other loud noises that should've drowned it out wasn't the voice itself, but rather the name it carried along with it.

"Vince!"

"Rody? Where are you—" Richard and Noah turned to Rody, who, without a second thought, bolted towards the direction of the voice and stopped at the edge of the stage, prompting the other two to follow suit. "Is that his name? Vince?"

"Yep."

Rody peeked from behind the stage and there Vincent was, seemingly just managing to get out of the crowd with a girl running after him. Even under the darkness of the night, his image was still shining bright just like those eyes that Rody had fallen in love with the first time he laid his gaze on, causing Rody's heart to skip a beat upon having the chance to look at him more carefully in a calmer setting that allowed him to take in every detail on Vincent's image, from the way his locks fluttered with each step he took, his fair skin, his tall nose, his sharp jawline, to the smile adorning his lips as he spoke to the girl who they could safely assume was his friend. In his visions, Rody's past self couldn't stop saying how good-looking Vincent was, taking every chance he could see to indulge in his beauty as he took his time pointing out each feature that embodied his appearance that Rody couldn't stop gushing about, and Rody now could definitely see why.

If he had a partner that gorgeously handsome, he would spend his entire life telling him so as well, Rody thought as Richard let out a gasp.

"No way, that Vince?"

Noah glanced over him with a curious look. "You know him?"

"Yeah, he's in the same class as me!" Richard averted his gaze to think to himself. "I've talked to him a few times, but pretty much everyone knows him to some extent 'cause he's one of the top students in the class."

"My my Rody." Noah gave Rody a wide grin as he lightly elbowed him. "Your fated mate's a top student, and he's pretty cute too. You really hit the jackpot, huh?"

Rody let out a shy chuckle, on his lips a smile he couldn't hold back as they watched Vincent slowly approaching where they were standing with his friend following behind.

"Goddamn right you are."

"Vince, s-slow down!" Manon hunched over with her hands on her knees to gasp for air. Despite that, she still managed to throw a cheeky smirk at him. "Geez, you're—you're so fast all of a sudden! What happened to the guy who didn't want to get his fated mate's attention?"

"You know that's not the reason, right?" Vincent chuckled and returned her teasing energy. "It was just too sudden and I guess I... was not prepared."

"I know, I know. But that's why I'm here to push you, isn't it?" Manon let out a small laugh as she straightened her posture. "Seriously though, that was wild. I was really joking about him being your fated mate 'cause... y'know, guitar."

"Same, that—" Vincent took a short pause to recall that moment with his eyes up at the stage where Rody was standing a while ago. "That was probably one of the craziest experience I've ever had. I'd tell you if I even knew how to describe it in a way that'd do it justice."

"Speaking of..." Manon tilted her head in curiosity as they began walking towards the back of the stage. "What was that promise that you talked about? I thought you two have never met?"

"You're right, but I meant like—You remember how we suspected my visions were about my past life? Yeah, I remember I made a promise with him in one of my visions. It goes something like... if we were given another chance at being each other's fated mate, then we'd not hesitate to chase after each other when we met for the first time."

Manon let out a gasp of adoration with a big smile on her face. "Aww! That's—That's so sweet! Seriously, I've said it and I'll say it again, you're living a hopeless romantic's dream for real."

"Perhaps." Vincent chuckled in response. "But that's why I was sprinting out of there. I made a promise to go after him and I wanna keep my words. Now, let's just hope he hasn't left already and—"

"I have no intention to do so until I see you again."

Both of them jumped from a third person joining in and Vincent jumped once more when they turned over and saw that it was Rody, who had approached them without neither of their knowledge and was greeting them with a warm smile, especially towards Vincent.

"Oh—I—Uh—Um—"

Strange, the entire way here, Vincent was pondering in his mind what he would say when he saw Rody, reciting his chosen answers over and over again like a script he felt he had to remember. He had repeated it so many times that the words almost didn't have meaning anymore and dominated his consciousness, even making it difficult for him to focus on talking with Manon. Yet the moment his eyes locked with Rody's again, all that practice, all those words he had oh so carefully crafted for the mere purpose of not embarrassing himself all went out of the windows, probably shoving themselves under the ground directly below him and leaving him there like a goddamn idiot who was only capable of stuttering gibberish.

"V-Vincent, isn't it?" Rody fidgeted with his hair as he chuckled softly. "I mean, that's what m-my visions told me at least. D-Do correct me if I'm wrong."

"Oh no no, you're right, I um—" It was only now that Vincent managed to, somewhat, find his voice. "F-Feel free to call me Vince, c-considering, uh, yeah—"

While figuring out what it was that he was planning to say in the first place, his eyes unconsciously glanced over Manon and her lips lifted up into a smirk when she saw a golden opportunity presented in front of her eyes.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry, I didn't quite realize I'm interrupting something." Manon could barely hold in a snicker as she prepared to turn on her heels. "Vince's fated mate, I'd love to introduce myself properly and get to know you better, but it appears that can wait because as Vince's friend, I think I have the responsibility of giving you both some... privacy."

"W-Wait, Manon—!"

"Call me if you need anything Vince, I'll be over there watching the concert. Have fun you two!"

Conveniently ignoring Vincent's pleas, Manon nonchalantly headed back to where the crowd was, humming a happy tune and making sure it was loud enough for Vincent to hear as she did so as though Vincent wasn't silently trying to beg her to come back and help his helplessly awkward self. Now with Manon away and Rody's friends going back to put back their things to the clubroom after having teased how they would mind their own business so Rody could mind his own business with Vincent, it was only them in the space behind the nearby building and away from where the concert was, giving them the peace that was undeniably much needed but was also killing Vincent on the inside from the silence between them that he desperately wanted to break.

It was awkward for sure, but at the same time, there was an indescribable sense of comfort that Vincent found in it, and it was what made him not mind this as much as he normally would. That, or it was Rody, or it was both.

"S-So, you're my fated mate? A-And I assume you also had visions of our past life together?" Vincent looked away as he played with his hair. "S-Sorry, that's probably strange to ask. I just—I don't know what to say, sorry."

Rody chuckled softly. "To your question, yes. And it's okay, I'm a bit unprepared myself. But honestly? I'm mostly just... so happy right now. I'm so happy I finally found you after so long."

"T-The feelings are mutual." Vincent smiled, still trying to get through his flusteredness as he spoke. "Rody's your name, if I'm not mistaken?"

Rody nodded with an small but excited smile on his face. "Yep, that's me."

"Rody..." Vincent mumbled under his breath. "Even after literally an eternity, your name's still so beautiful to me."

The small smile on Rody's lips lifted up into a grin. "Same could be said about yours, and you too, honestly."

"Y-You're flattering me." Vincent averted his gaze as Rody laughed away the awkward air between them. "You know, it's funny, really, that I've spent my entire life looking for you, but when I finally did, I'm not ready at all. You'd think I'd have enough time to prepare already."

"Hey, that makes the two of us." Rody unconsciously reached out his hands before withholding them when he remembered this was the present day, not the timeline their visions were in. "C-Can I hold your hands?"

"Of course." Vincent chuckled. "We were literally married in our previous life, and you're worried I wouldn't let you touch me?"

"Fair enough, but that's different." Rody took Vincent's hands in his own. "We technically just met in this life so I just... I just don't want to assume anything, you know?"

Vincent stared at Rody in silence for a short moment before smiling warmly at him. "You—Well first, can I touch your hair?"

Vincent waited for a nod of approval from Rody before reaching up to stroke his hair, feeling his locks that were as soft as how he remembered them. "You're still as considerate as ever, huh?"

"It's simply the right thing to do." A small laugh escaped Rody's lips. "Gotta make my fated mate feel as comfortable as possible 'cause he deserves only the best, yeah?"

"God, still a smooth talker you are, huh?" Vincent returned Rody's smile. "So, since we're at it... where do you want us to go from here?"

Rody's eyes softened, his gaze on Vincent adoring while he kept his firm but comforting hold on Vincent's hands as he responded with a loving chuckle.

"Well..."

A grin crept up Rody's lips as he gently pulled Vincent in for a hug that Vincent was slightly caught off guard by but quickly welcomed by wrapping his arms around Rody.

"Since we're basically starting over, I figure we should begin with the very first step." Rody gazed deeply into Vincent's eyes as he spoke as though at that moment, Vincent was the only person that existed in Rody's world. "So... wanna exchange numbers and grab coffee some time next week?"

Vincent chuckled, a big excited smile on his lips as he tightened the hug.

"That's not even a question."

__________

Author's note:

So with that, it's really the end to this story. I- I still can't believe we're here, it still feels like yesterday that I was contemplating on writing this, it's quite crazy to think about. What's even crazier tho is that there are people reading and leaving comments on this, which I have to give another huge THANK YOU to anyone who's supported this work of mine in any way. I sound like a broken record already but it's still so wild to me that there are people enjoying this little semi-impulsive idea of mine that just popped up in my head one day. Once again, from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate each and every one of you so much <3

Some extra note: The song Rody sang on-stage is called "Still Into You" by Paramore, and you should definitely check it out! The one he made in their flashback was written by me and for that, I apologize for my poor lyrism skill pffffft

Richard is a canon character from the game, it's the guy that Rody knew from college. The others are just random characters I added XD including the celebrity name that Rody's dad brought up only cuz I didn't wanna use a real celebrity's name haha. Also yes, according to Rachel's sketches, Vince did have longer hair in college.

Bonus little doodles post-epilogue, this is also kinda college AU-ish? Here Rody majors in Hospitality like canon, except he doesn't drop out this time XD Vincent goes on to become a chef of course but ya know what's different? He CAN TASTE WOAH

One last thing, which is an announcement of some sort? So, some people have been asking for a story focusing on Bernard and Denis and I DO wanna write it, but I realized the next semester is starting soon for me and it'll be especially busy for me so I won't have as much time to write, meaning I'm unsure if I'll have much time to update. Therefore I can't promise anything really, I may write it, I may not, but just wanna make this announcement for those I've told that it's a possibility ;w; I apologize if I made it seem like it's guaranteed, but I hope it helps clarify it. Regardless, I wanna send appreciation to those who've shown interests in my OCs, it means a lot to me <3

Edit: WAIT OMFG I FORGOT, BUT HUGE SHOUT OUT TO @Bokki_HA FOR MAKING A FANART FOR THIS FIC. IT LOOKS SO BEAUTIFUL, THANK YOU <3 Please please PLEASE check out their Instagram coffeetgs too, they make amazing art