VHope Fluffshots

Paintings

When I was younger, I was so assured by the concept of having a soulmate. There was someone on this very same planet designed for me, and I was designed for them. They felt all of my emotions while I felt all of theirs. We must have been very happy children, because I don't think I ever felt their sadness; in turn, I never felt sad.

For me, having a soulmate reminded me that I wasn't alone; I was going to grow up and be cherished by this person, and I would get to cherish them. I didn't care about their gender, what language they spoke, or how far away they were. One day, I was going to find them (or they would find me) and we would live happily ever after.

When high school hit, my entire mindset became warped.

High school was my own personal hell. I was disliked by the whole school and tormented on a daily basis.

Girls told me I was annoying and ugly; they said they felt sorry for whoever was "stuck with me" because they would be embarrassed to be seen in public with me. A particular group of girls would push me around and rip at my clothes, creating holes and rips that I had to convince my parents I didn't do on purpose.

Another group of girls liked to shove me into the lockers, laughing every time my head collided with the metal and my shoulder made contact with the locks.

The rest of the girls at my school psychologically tormented me, telling me that my soulmate will never try to look for me, that they already knew I was a waste of space and will never waste their time looking for such a disappointment.

The boys at school were no different. I could take their beatings pretty well, unlike the girls. The only thing the boys did that I couldn't handle was dunking my head in the toilets and holding me there until I blacked out.

Four consecutive years of everyone around me telling me that I am unloved and unwanted was all it took to change my mindset when it came to soulmates.

But they were right for the most part; I would write messages to my soulmate on my arm, knowing it would show up on their skin, too. I never recieved a reply, not once. If they truly wanted to know who I was and where to find me, they would have replied.

Just like everyone said, my soulmate didn't want me.

-------

"Hoseokie, what are you thinking about?"

I nearly jumped out of my seat when my only friend, Seokjin tapped me on the shoulder. We were supposed to be on our Saturday friend-date, but I must have zoned out in the middle of him talking again. At this point in our friendship, he always knew when I lost myself in my thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, nothing," I muttered, looking back to my plate to see half of my food gone. "You ate my food."

"Well, someone has to!" Seokjin insisted, rolling his eyes, "I paid for it anyways. I'm not letting you waste my money."

I huffed at him, picking my chopsticks back up. "Hyung, you're rich. This literally costs fifteen dollars."

"And you live in my house, you hermit."

"I have a job."

Seokjin narrowed his eyes at me, cheeks stuffed full of chicken. "Pay for groceries next week."

"Yes, father," I sighed, grinning when Seokjin slapped the back of my hand.

"Anyways, back to what I was saying before you zoned out," he wiggled his finger at me, "My soulmate and I have been talking. His name is Jungkook and he's a good bit younger than me. He's only sixteen! He's a whole baby, and his family moved to Seoul when he started high school. It's wild."