Virgil is back, sitting on his bed. He leaned himself against his headboard until the headache eased. He opened his eyes and let himself enjoy the familiarity of his room once before he processed what just happened. His heart was still beating quickly, it felt like it might jump out of his chest. His hand are sweating, making it cold and clammy.

"Geez," Virgil breathed out. "What am I going to do now?"

Virgil tried to calm himself down, breathing deeply in and out, in and out. Once he was able to breath regularly again, he was able to think clearly. He looked at the clock on his bedroom wall. 1:03. He needed to wake Remy up. Right now.

Virgil got out of his bed and dashed to Remy's door. "Remy!" He banged on the door a couple of times, not bothering to knock softly. A soft knock will not wake Remy up. An unnaturally heavy sleeper like him wouldn't wake up even if the building is on fire. He wasn't called 'Sleep' for nothing. Virgil banged on the door again.

"Remy! Wake the fuck up!" He shouted and continued banging on the door.

Remy heard someone banging on his door. He covered his head with his blanket to block out the sound and hopefully whoever is banging on his door will give up and stop.

"Remy, open up!" Virgil shouted again, his voice starting to edge closer to a panic.

Remy lazily got out of his bed with a low groan. Why can't Virgil just let him sleep in peace? He opened his door a crack, sticking only his head out. "What?" He asked groggily, still half asleep. He pulled his head inside to look at his alarm clock. "It's one in the morning. What do you want?"

"Exactly, it's one a.m. It's an hour after midnight."

"Umm... what?" Remy questioned, his sleep-fogged brain not processing what Virgil meant.

"The hour, Remy. I-I had it." Virgil clarified. His heartbeat picking up it's pace again. Remy noticed Virgil's nervousness. How he shifts his weight from one foot to another and picking at his hoodie. He opened his door wider and dragged Virgil inside by the arm. He needed to know everything.

"Tell me. Everything."

----------

Virgil was lying awake on his bed. It's the midnight following his nineteenth birthday, which means he will enter the hour. Well, unless he doesn't have soulmate. He couldn't sleep thinking of what might happen. He thought, if he was going to have the hour, then he should be awake. And if he's not going to have the hour, then he should also be awake to know that right away. Virgil thought, not having a soulmate at all would be easier; there would be no emotional pressure and there's less chance that he would disappoint anyone. However, he also thought that having a soulmate would mean there will always be someone there for him and he wouldn't have to live a lonely life.

With all of that considered though, he couldn't help but think what complicated problems he would have to deal with if his soulmate and him aren't compatible. 'Is that possible?' Virgil thought to himself. He had heard some soulmates couples who failed in the past and he knew that is possible to happen to him, too. 'What if it doesn't work out? What if I disappoint them and ruin everything? And what would happen if I don't have a soulmate? Oh fuck, what if they died and I don't know?'

Before he could think of another scenario, Virgil felt a dull pain in the back of his head. He immediately sat up on the bed. After the pain eased, he leaned back on his headboard. Then, another wave of pain shot through, more intense then the one before. Virgil closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning and let out a groan.

When he opened his eyes again, he knew he was supposed to know what's going to happen. He knew that he would be transported to his soulmate's body, meaning he wouldn't be in his room anymore. However, he couldn't help but panicking a little bit when he found himself seated in front of a desk with papers strewn around, no longer in the comfort of his dark bedroom. His heart was hammering in his chest. He clenched his fist tightly to ground himself.

Virgil set his eyes on the papers on the desk. Loopy letters danced across the page in a messy choreography. Some of the sentences are long and detailed. Some are shorter. Another page has small sketches of little scenes 'What's this? Movie? Theater?' The writings and drawing on the paper gave him something to do and focus on something else other than screwing up. 'It looks like whoever this is, is making some sort of theater production,' Virgil thought to himself after reading the big title, "ORIGINAL THEATER PRODUCTION."

The sound of the clock on the wall brought Virgil back to reality. 'Look, I've done literally nothing for five minutes. What a waste of time.' He was starting to get anxious again. He took a post-it note from the desk and started to write a note... if only he knew what to write. He had memorized what he was going to write on the note before he entered the hour. Now, though, he couldn't remember a single thing. He panicked-again-and closed his eyes to recall what information he was supposed to write other than his name. 'Come on brain, why is it that you only work in the shower or when I'm about to sleep?!' Virgil thought angrily, cursing his brain. How can he not think of anything? At least one thing. After fifteen minutes of thinking, he gave up. He ended up writing something very vague and non-informational at all.

Virgil Dudnickov (19)

Not much to say about me

With the addition of email address and phone number, Virgil didn't write anything else. He wished he had written something else, but he couldn't, for the life of him, think of something that he should write. Virgil didn't think anything in his life is significant enough to write about.

'Still have forty minutes.'

Now, Virgil was no longer as nervous as he was at the beginning. He still felt like something might go wrong and he will screw up, but he was no longer in a state where he could easily slip into a panic attack. For a moment, he just sat at the desk, not doing anything. After a few minutes, he decided to look around the room.

The window was covered with soft and thick burgundy curtain with golden trims, under which the desk was situated. Opposite the window was the bed. It was still neat, indicating that it had been untouched. The deep royal red bed cover felt soft under Virgil's fingers. Above the headboard were fairy lights hung on the wall. On them, small pictures of people and some sceneries which gives into the aesthetic of the whole place. Under the bed was a big, luxurious white carpet. The dim shine of the fairy lights gave a soothing and cozy atmosphere. Next to the bed was the door with two or three musical posters on it.

'Theater geek, huh. Should've guessed from the theater project on the desk.' Virgil inspected the posters on the door. In fact, the rest of the wall in the room was covered with various theater posters and flyers. As he was scanning the room, Virgil found a full-length mirror in the corner, on the other side of the bed adjacent to the door. He walked over to the mirror and take a look.

At first, he thought his soulmate would look like an average American guy. He was wrong. Very wrong. A mess of waves of almost-blond golden brown hair, complimenting bright emerald eyes. Broad shoulders and slim waist, which Virgil couldn't help but run his fingers over, feeling every bumps of muscle. Toned muscles and biceps. Virgil stepped closer to the mirror to take a closer look at his soulmate's face. He had to bite back a sigh as he traced the defined jawlines that end on a defined chin.

'How does a fucking Greek God, have me as a soulmate?' Virgil stumbled backward a little as the realization hits him. This guy was his soulmate . "Shit." he said lowly. They were supposed to fall in love and possible start a relationship?! Virgil thought, whoever ran the machine of the world must have been drunk. 'He's gonna hate me. When he finds me, he's going to realize how weird and rude I am. Gosh.' His hands were starting to sweat again, his legs were noodles. He had to sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall. He pulled his knees close to his chest and settled his forehead on them.

Virgil put his hand on the carpet, feeling every bumps and dips to ground himself. He counted his breaths; in for four, hold for seven and out for eight. He repeated the breathing exercise before he could stop hyperventilating. Virgil dropped his head back onto the wall, looking at the empty ceiling to clear his mind.

When Virgil looked at the clock again, he only had three more minutes left. When he felt a headache coming, he didn't force it to go away this time. Then, he found himself sitting at the edge of his bed.

----------

"And then, here I am now." Virgil concluded the summary of his hour. Remy listened to every detail of the story.

"You said you thought your soulmate was 'going to look like an average American guy'... how did you know he was going to be American. Well,obviously it's gonna be a guy. We're both are, like, super gay."

Virgil rolled his eyes at Remy's comment. "I knew he was American because of the grammar he used in the papers on his desk."

"How'd you even noticed that?"

"I'm a literature student," Virgil answered flatly. "Plus, I checked the location and it was Florida."

For a moment it was silent. Virgil's mind wandered off to thoughts of his soulmate. To be honest, Virgil was a little intimidated by this guy. He seems to be a people's person, judging by the pictures above the bed. He also seemed to be a dramatic person, looking from all the theater related stuff going on. Though Virgil was used to drama by now that he's living with Remy.

Remy recalled Virgil's description of his soulmate. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't put a finger on who might look like the person Virgil described. He rifled through his memory, but he couldn't tell who might be Virgil's soulmate.

"Did you get a note?" Remy asked, breaking the silence.

"What?" Virgil snapped back from his thoughts. "Oh, mm... I didn't check. I might, actually."

"Look for it now. Then, tell me what it says." Remy said, dragging Virgil again. This time out of his room to Virgil's own room. Virgil entered his room nervously, tugging his shirt down as he scanned the room carefully for any small paper or some kind of note.

Virgil found the note on his desk, with his favorite pen next to it. When he found it, he immediately averted his gaze so that he didn't read the words right away.

"Found it." Virgil announced to Remy, who was waiting by the door. He took the note in his hands and brought it closer to his face. He hoped that his soulmate wouldn't hate him. He hoped that someone other than Remy would accept him. Only now was he regretting not writing more on his note for his soulmate. He wished he had written more.

"What does it say?"

Virgil looked at the note and read it quickly. His entire frame shook with the effort to hold it together. He should have known this will happen. He should have gotten used to the bitter taste of rejection.

Roman Cascales.

I never wanted this, still don't want this. Don't look for me.

If you ever see me, walk the other way.

He should have known his soulmate wouldn't want him. Of course. No one wanted him in their lives. Only idiots wanted that.

I never wanted this...

Though he knew his soulmate wouldn't want him, he couldn't help but think what he did wrong. 'It doesn't matter why,' he thought.

"Virgil, you good there, girl?" Remy asked. He noticed the way Virgil's entire body shake slightly. It must've been something that was written on the note. "What does the note say, Virge?"

Virgil turned his head to face Remy, hiding the note with his body. Remy saw the shine in Virgil's eyes. Tears, he realized. "What does the note say,brateyek ?" He asked again, softer this time.

"Nothing important." Virgil replied flatly. He didn't want Remy-or anyone at all-to know. He put the note back on the desk and walked over to the door. "I'll see you in the morning, Rem. spokoynoy nochi." Virgil closed the door on Remy's face. Virgil stayed on the door until he heard Remy's footsteps fading into the hallway

He rushed to the desk and snatched the note angrily. What did he do to ever deserve this? Why do everyone hate him? Hot tears fell from his eyes, giving his steel eyes a silvery shine. The tears flow in a steady stream, making its journey down Virgil's cheeks and dripping down his chin. Why? Why does this always happen?

Virgil choked on a sob, trying to silence himself. His legs felt like jelly, weak and without form. So, for the second time that night, he let himself fall onto the floor, squeezing his knees into a tight hug. Maybe, that would crush the gaping hole inside him. Maybe it would fill it, somehow. His entire body shook with anger and slipping control. Why did he ever believe in soulmates anyway? It didn't matter how upset he was, he couldn't bring to destroy the note. He didn't know why he couldn't, even though it was yet another evidence that his life was worthless and he didn't mean anything to anyone. 'Of course I don't mean anything. Even my soulmate hates me.'

Virgil was tired. Tired of the world throwing shit at him. Tired of how people see him as nothing. He thought maybe, a soulmate would bring joy into his empty life. He thought maybe, a soulmate would bring a touch of color to his world. As always, the world shatter his hopes, crushing them with the weight of reality.

Virgil crawled onto his bed, tears still streaming down his now-red face. Sobs still breaking their way free from his throat. That night, Virgil cried himself to sleep like he had countless times before. However, this was the first time he had felt truly hopeless.

**********

Hi again! Thank you for reading and as always, leave a comment and votes if you'd like.

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Russian vocabs in this chapter (tell me if I made a mistake):

Brateyek
Братик
[brother (in diminutive form)]

Spokoynoy nochi
Спокойной ночи
[have a peaceful night, have a goodnight]