Chapter Text
Colt’s soulmate mark looked like the kind of random T-shirt you would find in a thrift store.
You know the ones, with bold text saying something random like “Tuesday Eggs, Disco ball.” With a bright T-Rex on the front.
Suffice it to say, it was hideous and he proudly displayed it at every moment. That, or maybe he just likes showing off his arms.
Who could really tell?
It seemed to suit Colt more than Jody, but who was he to question the great soulmate system?
Grace didn’t really like his, either. A mark is supposed to encompass the very soul of the person who is made for you.
Grace thought it looked like a bunch of shitty palm trees plastered across an abstract piece of art. The scariest part was how different it fundamentally was to him.
How could you ever love someone if you have absolutely nothing in common? If they’re bright, exciting colours and you’re just grey. Muted. Boring.
Someone once said a conversation with Ryland Grace could wake them from a coma, because it would be so boring that they’d just have to get up and walk away.
His ex-girlfriend had said something similar. Colt always argued that it wasn’t that he was boring, he was just himself. Some people found it boring and some people didn’t.
Colt didn’t find him boring. He should have, with his motorbikes and stuntman job and socialisation skills. But he’d just say ‘you’re Ryland.’ Like it was a good thing. The best thing to be.
That’s what Grace wants in a friend or a partner, someone who isn’t tortured just by him existing, who actually craves his presence, who notices when he walks into a room.
His soulmate, with his bright bursts of colour, the soft and relaxed hues of blues sinking into Grace’s skin like dye, and the trees—so detailed that you could imagine them swaying, would not notice Grace walking into a room.
“What if they’re like you?” Grace found himself asking, Colt just stared at him strangely.
“…then they’ll love you, too…?” His voice was laced with confusion. Enough so that Grace felt her own growing warm with embarrassment, “why is it a big deal?”
”It’s not. I don’t want to date, anyway.” And he wasn’t lying or coping as his students might say. He’d devolved into pure hermit crab status these last few months; there was little hope for recovery now.
Just stepping outside to grab breakfast when his fridge was empty felt like attending a conference.
“Maybe you’re focusing on the wrong things. Instead of insisting they have to like science or reading or nerd stuff, maybe consider if they’re going to match you in a different way.”
God, Grace hoped they didn’t match his social skills. He doubted it, based on the mark, but considering the palm trees and faded blues—they could also be extremely chill, laid back, and isolated.
”Like your humour! You’re a funny guy,” he slapped Grace’s back on the way out of the apartment, snatching an apple up.
The front door shut behind him. “Oh… god no,” Grace squeezed his eyes. Not my sense of humour, please.
He’d been so insistent today because Colt had told him about Tom Ryder.
When Grace saw the headlines about him seeking his soulmate, he genuinely considered coming forward. And then he remembered paparazzi and crazy fans and chickened out instantly.
Colt had told him, “Oh yeah, Gail is basically forcing him to do this for the publicity. She thought a grand love story behind the scenes would create hype for the movie.”
The soulmate would receive quite the hefty check for staying silent and being professional arm candy.
This is who I’m attached to forever. A selfish, cruel person who would use their own soulmate for financial gain.
”Am I really that bad, that the world would think this is my other half?”
Disappointment didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. Keeping a low profile had never been more important.