Preference: Everyone Has Their Soul Mate’s Name Tattooed on Their Wrist.
Luke: It was a cold, rainy day in your small Australian town. The sky looked dark as if it was nearing midnight, but as you looked over to the clock on the wall of your work building, you saw that it was just around four in the evening. You sighed, feeling the dreary weather take a toll on your mood; it didn’t help that you were stuck at work, either. Even though your job paid well, it kept you busy most of the time. If you weren’t in your classes, you were working as a receptionist in the emergency room at the local hospital. Your mind trudged through multiple memories you had gathered over the years of working there: when there was a man that came in because his eye had popped out of socket, when a woman had came in because her hip shattered, and even now, as a young boy with wild looking hair came in looking quite embarrassed as he strolled up to your desk. You crossed your legs neatly, clearing your throat so that you could sound professional. “How can I help you this evening?” You greeted him, looking him up and down while he awkwardly fiddled with his thumbs. A blush crept across his cheeks as he tried his hardest to avoid eye contact with you. He went without saying anything, and you cleared your throat yet again to catch his attention. “Sir?” You called, and he instantly let out a yelp of surprise, as if he hadn’t seen you sitting in front of him. “Uh, I sort of have this, uh, rash growing. I need to get it checked out.” He whispered, looking around to make sure no one had heard his medical problem. You nodded your head shortly, a smirk growing on your lips. “Where is the rash?” You asked, going to your computer to type in his information so you could give him the band he was supposed to wear around his wrist. “On my, er, pelvis region.” He muttered, feeling too embarrassed that he was having to tell the pretty girl behind the front desk something that made him sound like he was a gross person. You raised your eyebrows, eyes still locked on the computer as you typed everything in. He gave you his name, his birth date, and his social security number. Your mind held onto his name, Luke. But, there was no possible way he could be your Luke. There were a lot of men with the name Luke, who’s to say this was the one you’d been cursed to wear his name around on your wrist? Your eyes glanced over the cursive, black ink across the skin of your arm. You knew that he had noticed it, because he stared intensely at your hands for a minute before his hospital band had printed out. “Here, this is your identification bracelet.” You told him as you stood up, grabbing his left wrist to wrap the band around. However, a gasp left your lips and your eyes widened as you looked up at Luke, his eyes meeting yours in a comfortable silence. His wrist pulsated, the black ink seeming to disappear as you read the same name over and over in your head: (Y/N). There he was. He was your Luke, and as you held your wrist up to his, the both of you noticed that the ink had disappeared. He was here. He was your soul mate.
Ashton: “Get a grip on yourself, Jacque! You can do this!” You shouted at your younger sibling, seeing her miss yet another ball that was pitched to her during her junior high softball game. The crowd members around you were staring and making fun of how enthusiastic you were, but you didn’t care. You were there to support her and make her feel less nervous about playing, and that was what you intended to do. The pitcher from the other team threw another ball, and Jacque swung with her bat and hit the ball close to the outfield fence. You stood up and cheered, screaming as loud as you could as your sister ran around the field to third base. You felt so proud of her as you sat back down, shooting her a quick thumbs up to assure her that she was doing well. “Aren’t they just so cute when they play sports?” A voice beside you spoke, causing you to slightly jump and cover your heart with your hand. The owner of the voice happened to be a young guy around your age, with golden eyes and pretty brown hair. He smiled widely at you, taking the seat on the bleachers next to you. “My little sister plays, too. She’s number twelve.” He told you, motioning to the girl who just slid into home plate to get your sister’s team a point on the scoreboard. You grinned at him, nodding. “This is Jacque’s first game actually playing. She’s never been so nervous.” You giggled, eyeing your sister as she intently watched the next pitch being thrown to her teammate. The boy next to you nodded his head, looking at your sister and shooting his own a thumbs up like you did moments ago. “She seems like she’s doing pretty good, even though I just got here.” He chuckled, a slight blush coming to his cheeks as he thought about how he’d ended up getting caught in traffic and couldn’t be here at the start of the game. You shrugged and continued talking to the guy, finding yourself to enjoy his company. He was actually quite funny, and just as enthusiastic about watching his little sister as you were about watching yours. The two of you were the only ones to stand up and cheer, while the rest of the crowd just sat in their seats and screamed. You even ended up sharing a bowl of nachos, both of you munching away while you talked about memories from your middle school days, cheering when necessary. It wasn’t until you reached to grab the last nacho that you saw it: his wrist. You examined the black ink on his skin, trying your hardest to decipher what it said in the weird angle it was. You so desperately wanted it to be your name, since you had been growing fond of his presence. You grunted under your breath as you tilted your head with his arm, causing the guy to laugh at you. “If you wanted to see it so bad, you could have just asked me.” He told you, turning his arm so that the name on his wrist was now in full view. Your eyes widened and your heart sped up as you read (Y/N) in cursive letters, your excitement growing as you showed him your wrist, Ashton blossoming and fading at the same time. He grinned, sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Nice to meet you, soul mate.”
Calum: Every Thursday, it was the same thing. You would wake up, get yourself ready with make up and an acceptable outfit, and then you would go downtown to your weekly lecture for your college courses. You would sit for fifty minutes in a room filled with people that were just as bored or as exhausted as you were, and then you would end up going home to do nothing besides eat ramen noodles and watch Netflix. But this particular Thursday was way different. You were supposed to be getting a new enrollment in your class, which was odd since it was the middle of the semester. It was a male student, that much you knew, and you wondered if it would be your person. Your eyes glanced down at your wrist, the tattooed name seeming to pulse with anticipation as your eyes switched between your professor and the door. You were waiting anxiously for the male body to enter the classroom, you couldn’t wait to meet him to see if it was finally your time to be connected with your soul mate that you’d waited for more than nineteen years to meet. The professor assigned a book assignment, calling out for it to be finished and turned in at the end of the class, and you sighed as you knew that your attention was going to be diverted from the waiting of the arrival of the new student. You gripped onto your pen and began writing, but as soon as you’d opened your book, the door opened and your head snapped up to catch a tall boy with colored skin and dark hair entered the room. You blushed at his physical attire, your eyes scanning his face to see his features. He walked up to your professor, talking and chatting happily as he explained why he was late and that he would never be late for another lecture from now on. The professor talked with him for a moment before he told him to find a seat and begin on the assignment, and that’s when he turned and made eye contact with you. He smiled and walked to the empty seat next to you, motioning towards it as if asking for permission to sit down. You nodded your head and scooted over for him to have room to sit, and as soon as he did, your eyes went directly to his arms. You saw multiple tattoos, but you could not place if there was one that was his supposed soul mate’s name. You noticed a tattoo that said Mali Koa, but you weren’t sure if that was his soul mate, a family member, or an old flame that he’d mistakenly gotten tattooed on his body. “Hi, I’m Calum.” He whispered as he opened his new book, searching for the assignment page. You let out a small breath, your tattoo on your wrist suddenly itching as he told his name. He was your soul mate. He was the one you’d been waiting for, and thus far you hadn’t been disappointed. However, you were still unsure if you were his soul mate as well. “I’m (Y/N),” You told him, trying to ignore the annoying voice in your head that was screaming at you to ask him what his tattoo said. Calum’s lips twitched into a smirk, looking at you, clearly interested. “(Y/N), huh?” He inquired, causing you to nod your head slowly. Calum grinned and moved his arm purposefully, showing you his left wrist that held your name in cursive, fading letters. Your heart began to hammer in your chest as you felt relief lift off of your shoulders. “Say, can you help me with this assignment? Seeing as in how we’re soul mates and all,” Calum casually asked, causing the both of you to laugh at your first meeting.
Michael: “You don’t want that album.” You said, looking at the girl before you as she picked up an Ariana Grande album. She looked at you confused, looking down at the disc she held in her hands. “The songs are all censored, and half of them aren’t fully downloaded. I’m not sure why our owner bought them, burnt discs are never really guaranteed to be full quality.” You snorted, nodding as the girl put the album back on the shelf and continued looking. Moments like these were the highlights of your days when you had to work. Of course, you loved your job! How could you not? You were surrounded by music and music lovers all day; you just hated being stuck inside when there were so many things outside you wanted to do. Actually, the main thing you wanted to do that involved being outside currently was searching for your soul mate. You were born almost twenty-one years ago, and you’d had that stupid name tattooed on you for all those years. You were beginning to get frustrated that you’d never been able to meet the so-called person that you were meant to be a match with. Your eyes ventured to your right wrist, seeing the name circling around your skin perfectly in bold, cursive letters. “Damn Michael. Just who the hell are you, anyway?” You growled to yourself, ringing the girl who wanted Ariana Grande’s album up for a Bruno Mars exchange instead. You told her to have a nice day with a smile, and then the store was empty. You took this to your advantage and you moved towards the juke box in the corner of the store, putting on a Nickelback album as you blasted their hit song Savin’ Me throughout the store. You began to sing along to the song, your voice purposely off tune and your head banging a little too extreme for the song of choice, but who cared? You had the store to yourself until eleven, and it was nearing ten now. No one would come in for the rest of the night. Or so, that’s what you thought, but you were proven wrong. A young looking guy, dyed hair and a baggy jersey shirt on his shoulders entered the store. He looked up from the ground and nodded his head at you, a smirk on his pink lips as he went straight to the rock section in the corner of the store. You scoffed at his cocky attitude, walking back behind the register so you could wait to ring him up when he left. “How good is this album?” He called out to you, catching your attention yet again as he held up a Falling in Reverse album. Your favorite song Goddamn was on that album, so you smiled widely, completely forgetting his cocky attitude he held when he first entered the store. “That’s actually my favorite album by them! My boss didn’t buy a burnt selection, either, so the songs are all great quality.” You answered him sincerely, waiting for him to make a final decision before he picked up the album and a Panic! At The Disco album before he walked to your register. He handed you the two albums, catching a glimpse of your name tag as another smirk came onto his face. “(Y/N).” He read aloud, causing you to stop bagging his albums to look at him. You gave him a questioning glance, but Michael just laughed and grabbed onto your wrist, seeing his name just as he expected. “What’dya know about that?” He joked, holding up his wrist as he showed you his name tattooed on his arm. The ink began to fade on both of your arms as he released his grip on you, nodding towards the albums you were currently bagging. “Our music taste is similar, so it’s no surprise we’re soul mates.” Michael spoke, laughing at his own corny joke. You rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway. You were glad you finally met him, even if it was due to your job. “You wouldn’t mind any company while you check these albums out, would you?” You asked him, and Michael rose his eyebrows at your question. “Company? From my soul mate? I’d take that anytime.” He grinned, paying for the albums as you clocked out and followed him out of the store, your goal for the past twenty-one years finally completed.
If anyone’s freaking out about failing classes or flunking a huge final, just know that I failed my first year of college so hard I actually got put on probation but I’m about a month away from having a bachelors degree in a field I actually enjoy and I just need you to know that this may be a setback, but it’s not the end, trust me. If you want to talk, I’m always right here!