Long Timothee Chalamet Stories

The One (P8)

Warnings - hacking, breaking and entering

We'd gathered some others like us. Through the dark web and different forums we'd found them. They came two by two like Noah's Ark. A lesbian paired with a man. A pair of two complete opposites who hated one another. A cop and a petty criminal. But the most valuable person we'd found hadn't come in a pair. Argyle Jensen had been paired with a dead teenager of all people. He was convinced there must be an error in the system. Or, an error in those who created the system.

Argyle was an expert hacker, and had hacked into camera feed at MatchMania headquarters in DC. Our group had traveled there. Timothée and I would go in, and risk the most. Ariya and Axel would pretend to be competitors, who wanted to speak to important people, creating a distraction. Leah, and Alexander would be our decoys, following us until they were needed as a distraction. Argyle would guide us through head pieces we'd set up.

Timothée and I had spent months concocting this. As we'd lived in our shared apartment and made love, went out on dates, or spoke to others, there was a heaviness of unanswered questions. Before we could take any action, Timothée had made me fully heal. After the hospital visit and the police interrogation, where a man sat by my side and comforted me who WASNT my match, I felt like we were being watched whenever we weren't in our house.

"It's clear for you to move in," Argyle said. We walk at a normal pace, no running. I could hear Ayria's commanding voice saying she didn't need an appointment. Leah and Alexander moved with us like they were our shadows, we'd practiced well.

"There's a guard coming both ways, I suggest Leah acts like she doesn't know where she is, you three stick to the shadows and slip past them.

"Help, oh help," Leah wailed. She was in her twenties, but she put on her best childish voice for this.

"Ma'am?" Both guards came to see her. She twirled her pretty dark hair.

"I was on a trip with my class, and I got lost," she simpered. We didn't wait to hear the rest of the story as they ushered her down the hall, giving us an opening.

We were headed for the computer hub, where Argyle had said all the data would be kept. He had figured out their lunch hour. However, a janitor came pretty soon after they left, so we would have a 10-20 minute frame to gather data. Both Timothée and I wore the uniform, found in the dumpster outside. We'd worked hours to make them look spotless. Unfortunately, there was no way, even with Argyle's skill, to find a replica badge of someone who worked here. If people had blind trust, we'd be okay, otherwise, we were screwed.

Finally, the computer hub. I instructed Alexander to stand outside and distract anyone who came along. All of us knew the risks, and were willing to take them for answers.

"What am I looking at A?" I asked, pointing my body cam at the screen.

"You'll need a password, I don't know how many times you'll need one to get in."

"Wait, no I don't!" I said. These prideful assholes hadn't even thought anyone would get this far, or question them.

"This feels too easy," Argyle said.

"I'll take it," said Timothée. He'd been valiant and steadfast. He'd told me time and time again he didn't care what this mystery was. He just knew I was it for him. But the guilt of Theo's life laid heavy on my shoulders. I needed there to be concrete proof that if I had waited, things wouldn't have worked out. I needed to know if I was defective or if the test was.

"Timothée Chalamet," I wrote into the database that I'd pulled up. I saw a sweet picture of him and details about him. I scrolled to the "match" section.

"There's two options, they're password protected," I said, trying to clicked on the greyed out boxes urgently. Timothée was looking around worriedly.

"Try this," Argyle spoke a series of letters and numbers into my ear. I tried it and it didn't work.

"Now this," Said Argyle. Another dud and it said we only had one more shot.

"Try my social security number," Timothée said. "It might be stupid enough to work."

"We're in," I cheered and kissed his cheek.

"Timothée Chalamet, 26 years old. Brute Match - Abi Summers, True Match - Y/n Y/L/N."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Timothée asked.

"That's your ex's name right?" I asked.

"Yeah it is, but what's a Brute Match?"

"I have no idea, I'll check mine," I said.

"Y/N Y/L/N, Brute Match - Theo Kenton, True Match- Timothée Chalamet."

"What on earth?" I said, and that's when our ears blared with two sounds. One was Argyle screaming at us to get out, the other was an alarm.

Timothée and I broke for the door, but somebody was already there. An older woman held Alexander by the collar. With her, we're armed guards. I recognized her. Genesis Monroe, creator of the Match test.

"Let's talk," she said, with a sharks smile.