Missing Pieces

Everything has Changed

When we got off the city train, people crowded the business district. Even with the work day coming to a close there seemed to be far more people out. Trains pulled in one after another, relinquishing some of the crowd. Damon guided me through the hoards of people. Wherever we were headed he kept a secret. Other couples bundled close in order to keep warm. The temperature dropped each minute as the sun made its way west.

Damon slowed his pace in front of the city Capitol building. The building lit up in luminous yellow-tinted lights. Precisely cared for greenery clung to the six stone columns. In the center of the courtyard sat a massive fountain with delicately-selected purple rose bushes surrounding it.

"What're we doing here?" I crinkle my eyebrows.

"Well, I thought that since you'll start your career soon, you should get a taste of what it'll be like," he pushed the revolving door and motioned for me to join.

The lobby outshone the landscape. The entire floor erupted in magnificent white marble. It splashed onto the receptionist counter and pooled into a horseshoe. From the doors an eggplant carpeting led you to a seating area. On the rug sat two white love seats facing one another with a gold coffee table between them. Parallel to the doors sat a pair of pearly white chairs with matching ottomans.

Behind the chairs a receptionist stood behind her marble counter. Her auburn hair twisted into a low bun. She, too, was draped in a white. Her lipstick matched the eggplant rug perfectly.

"How may I help you?" She sneered at Damon and I.

"We have a seven-thirty appointment." Damon smiled.

"Are you sure?" She type on her computer, checking the appoint men schedule. She had her face pinched into an awful scowl. If she keeps making that face it might freeze that way.

"Ah, Mr. Cawalaski, we've been expecting you!" A lurch-like, bald man burst through the gold door located to the left of the counter. He wore, surprisingly, a white suit, his tie and pocket square both eggplant.

"Hello! Brittyn, this is Mr. Howard Bennett; Mr. Bennett this is Brittyn Leonard. Howard works alongside my father." He introduced. Damon's father is a government official as well, a city manager.

"How do you do?" I smile and shake Mr. Bennett's hand.

"Just dandy! Now, let's get to that tour." He motions for us to follow.

The rest of the building held up to the elegance the courtyard promises. Every room was decked in white, purple and gold. Every employee dressed in white attire. Every space kept neat and tidy. The entire atmosphere had my senses beaming. I could definitely get used to it. Unfortunately, we were not able to visit the Chief. Mr. Bennett said he was a very busy man with lots to do with so little time. Apparently, they don't see much of him, figures.

"That tour was more than I could ever ask for!" I exclaimed as Damon and I journeyed through the city streets.

"I thought you'd enjoy that," he leaned over to kiss my forehead.

"How about some ice cream?"

"Two non-meal package food dates in a row?" I teased.

"Anything for my match," he clutched my hand.

We only had to walk a few blocks to the ice cream parlor. It looked like one of the retro themed diners we saw in old, pre-Perdene photographs. I selected a table near the back window while Damon ordered for us. Each chair had a different colored coat of paint on it, along with all the tables: the one I chose, bubblegum, and Damon's empty chair, lime.

The door chimed as a new customer walked in. He looked familiar, although I could not place him. I shifted my eyes to my wireless in hopes of looking busy. I had three messages. Emery needed to talk; she could've found her match. I decided it could wait. I looked back at Damon; he scanned every flavor continuously asking for samples. He couldn't make up his mind about anything.

My marking suddenly began to pulse. It burned. The delicate swirls blurred into a deep maroon. I started scratching at the ink; I wanted to rip my skin off. The colors seeped with crystallized knives. Was there something wrong with me? I clasped my hand over my mouth in order to try and muffle a scream. Damon surely didn't hear it, but the other guy did. He rushed to the empty chair and yanked my arm from me. Confused, I forgot about the pain and focused on his face. He had a harsh, angular jaw. His eyes resembled drops of fudge with slight swirls of caramel. I recognized him as the guy Em talked to at the station earlier.

"Does it sting?" His eyes look worried, possibly frightened.

"No, it burns. It feels like daggers," I clenched my jaw.

"Are you okay?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

"What the hell is happening to me?" I slightly raised my voice, almost shouting.

"Do you feel dizzy? Should I take you somewhere? Maybe the hospital?" He ignored my question.

"Please," I could feel the tears splurging onto my cheeks.

"Hey, I got you coffee. Your favorite ri-- are you okay?" Damon grabbed my other arm, helping me stand.

"I think I should take her," the boy proposed, swinging my arms around his neck.

"I'm kinda her boyfriend," Damon interjected.

"Just let me," he scooped my legs up and hustled through the door.

The next thing I realize I'm in a hospital bed. I have an IV in my left arm, various machines buzz and beep around me. The boy sits, asleep, in the corner chair. I press the nurse button; I need answers. She rushes in almost immediately.

"Oh good, you're awake!" She injects a small vile into my IV.

"What is that? What happened?" I frantically search my palm. My marking still oozes maroon swirls.

"Pain meds," she shakes the vile, "Sometimes when two matches meet up the marking feels overwhelmed and excited. You released too many hormones at once and passed out. You'll be okay in a few hours." She pats my arm.

"It has never happened before?" I question.

"Unfortunately, markings are unpredictable. You'll be okay though. Get some rest," She closes my door behind her.

I stare at the boy in the corner. He wears a dark grey sweatshirt and dark washed jeans. His matted hair sticks up in odd directions. I decided to throw my pillow at him.

"What?" He jumps up.

"Can you hand me that?" I smile sweetly.

"Of course," he gingerly tucks it behind my back.

"Where's Damon?"

"He went home. I assume he's notifying your parents," he sits on the edge on my bed.

"And who are you?" I raise my eyebrows.

"I'm Theo, your match," he pulls his sleeve up revealing the perfectly swirled mass on his palm, identical to my own.