A Match Made In Hell

Chapter 15: The Staircase

A/n: OK it was either "The staircase" or "The square" so leave me alone, I'm trying. This one contains a poem I wrote based on this poem called "The Owl and The Pussy Cat" by Edward Lear. If it's weird, I can delete it because I know my poetry doesn't make sense. 

Warnings: It's sad, but it gets happy at the end of the chapter, so don't give up hope!

Tam POV

I felt so fucking stupid for thinking that I could've won.

Of course, I could go through that. I've done it before, in Exilium. It'd be different, because it'd be with Keefe instead of my sister. I could probably still live with Linh, I don't know how kids would work or anything like that, but I've lived uncomfortably practically all my life.

I knew the second I heard that there had been a glitch that Keefe was out.

Bad match? No money? No honor? That sounds like a nightmare he told me about once. Keefe might hate his dad, but would he really rather live with him in comfort or me in rags?

Running out of the MatchMaking building is harder than I thought. There's so many twists and turns, and I felt sick after taking too many rights. The white and the tiled floors were ugly now, not modern and nice. It was disgusting. I hated it. I also hated how my stomach seemed to betray my brain, along with my eyes and heart. My eyes were begging to cry, my heart was roaring to go back to him, and my stomach was threatening to launch my breakfast out.

I wandered around a bit more before collapsing on the top of a staircase. My head throbbed as I pressed it against the railing, asking God to either take me now or Zeus to shoot me with a thunderbolt.

"Yo." I looked up, and unexpectedly, there was the pink haired girl. A cigarette in her mouth.

"I thought those were only in the Forbidden Cities?" I frowned at her smoking.

"Well, there's a thing called the black market, kiddo." She sat down besides me, her red glittery heels crossed, and her white dress finely pressed. "The systems' rigged. No one wins besides the Council."

"Yep." I nodded.

"That's why I smoke. It isn't good for you, but it makes the shitty feelings go away for a while." She puffed the cig, and twirls it around in her fingers. "I'm sorry about your prince."

"I wish I didn't like him." I said stonily. "He's a snob, he makes bad jokes, and he makes me cry."

"Yuh-huh. I bet he's deeper than that." The girl squinted her eyes at me, as if she was trying to see through me.

"Nope. He's shallow." I said, combing my fingers through my hair.

"Whatever helps you process." She smiled, "You can keep lying, I can keep smoking."

"It's not the same."

"I've done both and it practically is." She adds, "One just costs more lusters."

"You don't know me."

"I know people like you." She whistles through the gap in her teeth I'd never seen, "'Oh, little kitty-cat looks so fine in the moonlight, fine enough to eat. Oh, but the crocodile is far too tired, bathing in his swampy home, to do much but sleep. The croco loves the kitty, but it's not meant to be. For all who sees them for who they be, is me.' - Zasha Urdin."

"I don't know what to do with that." I admit.

"It's an old poem. Zasha's dead now, long gone." She puffed her cig, "It's just a poem about love. It's about the lazy people of the world who never shoot their shots."

"I shot my shot!" I argued, "And I missed! He pretends he's such a rulebreaker, but he's actually scared to cause trouble of any sort that could affect his reputation! He's so stupid and stubborn and if I even talk to him again, he'll get mad at me."

"You did run off before he could talk to you, so I would be if-"

"Not the point." I cut her off.

"Whatever." She sighed, tapping her cigarette against the white stairs, and said quietly, "You could just not be out as a couple."

"What do you mean." I asked, monotony.

"I mean, Sir Tiergan and Prentice Endal live together because they're 'best friends'." She looked over at me, "They basically raise Wylie together. They both lost no respect from anything they do together, because they're just best friends that coincidentally are raising a child together."

"Keefe probably isn't the one for me, though." I said. "There's so many fish in the sea."

"That's true. But you guys were set as Soulmates." She said.

"That was a glitch." I rolled my eyes at her.

"No, it wasn't. Seebo just generated the lists without applying that all the names that appeared on the paper had to be of the opposite gender." She frowned at me, "You guys are definitely soulmates, just forbidden."

"We-we're actually soulmates?" I stutter, my heart aching for the confirmation.

It made sense. Maybe it was The way we fit perfectly. I was a thunderstorm and he was a patch of sunlight that shone through the gray clouds. Like two pieces, searching for their puzzle, but realizing we were a part of our own collection. We were both too stubborn to admit our love for one another so Poor Seebo had to do it for us. We were polar opposites; he was a beach and I was the arctic. We fought and cried and laughed and it just started to dawn upon me how if it wasn't him it'd be no one. No one was for me besides him. He was my #1. I was his.

"Yeah." She smirked, "That changes your mind?"

My heart was beating so fast I could barely hear her question, "Yes. It does." I stood up shakily and gripped the railing.

"Leaving so soon?" She asked, helping me up.

"I have to go find him." I said, my throat tight, "I have to before he tries to fall in love with someone else."

Had he already moved on? I thought as I ran down the stairs, No, it's impossible. Not if I stop him.

I smiled to myself,

Sorry Keefe Sencen, you haven't seen the last of me.