— 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 —

════════ • 🕸️ • ════════

WHOEVER SAID THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS DIDN'T BOTHER EXPLAINING HOW TO INTERPRET HOW THE HEART SPEAKS. It's like a child throwing a tantrum really. Screaming and crying out until satisfied, except there's no way to know what's going to satisfy the deep abyss of longing for something more.

These were the thoughts racing through Maxine Jacobs mind as she picked around at the food on her plate. Her fork occasionally clinked against the fine china, forcing her to look up from her meal to see if she'd disturbed anyone around. Nope. The man sitting across from her—supposedly her date—hardly even recognized her presence.

He was a snide man. Thin and gangly. With an overall appearance too neat for her liking and a nose that wrinkled whenever she spoke. She considered clearing her throat and simply saying 'hi' if only to watch his glasses slide off his face and land in his soup bowl for the second time that evening. It was a tempting thought that certainly brought a smile to her own face, but she refrained.

"Marian, was it?"

She looked up from the remnants of salad on her plate, vaguely shocked that he'd broken the pact of silence between them. She managed to hide that surprised expression, yet failed to conceal the chagrin pulling at her lips. "Maxine, but I prefer Max."

Despite the correction, he remained unfazed. He lifted the napkin resting on the table before him then dabbed the fabric across his lips. "Right... Well, Miss Jones. This has been a lovely evening, but I think we both understand this isn't going anywhere. Would you like me to walk you to your car?"

Max shook her head. She could feel the heat that flushed her cheeks as her temper began to rise. She'd introduced herself half-a-dozen times that evening and he had yet to pronounce one syllable correctly. It really wasn't that hard of a name: Maxine Jacobs. She'd even made it simple and told him that he could just refer to her as Max—she'd even take MJ even though that one ranked lower on her list of acceptable nicknames. But no, she'd been called Marian Jones, Mara Jade, Mary Jane, Molly Jo, Marcy Joy, and anything but her own name that would fit the initials.

"I can find my own way," Max replied, placing her tip on the table as she excused herself. "Thank you for the lovely evening, Herman."

A confused look crossed the man's face as the corners of his lips creased. "It's Irving."

"Is it?" Her reply was pure pettiness feigning innocence. She knew his name, she'd made an effort to remember it the first time he'd introduced himself, but she really just couldn't help herself.

She ended the conversation there, snatching her clutch from the table before leaving without so much as a glance behind her.

She'd stopped counting how many blind dates she'd been set up on. It was exhausting participating much less trying to remember each one. So she'd fallen into the habit of going through the motions. The highlight of the evening was the post-date ritual she'd devised: a quiet walk through Flushing Meadows with a cone of strawberry ice cream.

The overhead bell jingled as she entered the ice cream parlor. As if she were expected, there was already a strawberry cone prepared and waiting.

It was then the attendant walked around the corner. "Another late night?"

Max looked up from her clutch as she pulled out a five from her wallet. "How do you mean?"

"This is your third cone this week," the gentlemen said while adding an additional scoop to the one that had begun to melt. "Either you've recently been dumped—"

"Or maybe I just enjoy the pleasure of your company, Stan," Max finished the thought before he could jump to any other conclusions. "Anyway, it was just a bad date."

"Three bad dates in a row?" Stan's brow wrinkled, adjusting the glasses that had previously been pressed to his forehead. "Sounds like you need to get your luck checked out. They have a doctor for that sort of thing?"

Max shrugged, handing over the fiver in exchange for the cone. "I'm not sure they'd be able to help me even if it was a real job."

"How about this?" Stan rhetorically asked, gesturing for the cone that he'd just handed to her. In a moment of confusion, she gave back the cone without much thought. Stan placed the cone upside down in a bowl, but not before adding a third scoop. "On the house. There. Now the universe's scales should reset."

Max laughed. "I'm not sure that's how it works."

"Just wait and see," Stan insisted, offering the bowl that looked as if it were overflowing. "You'll wake up tomorrow and hardly recognize your life."

"If only that we're true," she sighed wistfully while placing a spoonful of strawberries on her tongue. An additional sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes. Stan chuckled from behind the counter. She opened her eyes, pointing her spoon at him accusingly. "Don't give me that look. This is the highlight of my night. Better than anything else that could have happened."

"Try telling me tomorrow." Mischief sparked from behind the elderly man's eyes. "Or better yet, prove me right and don't show up."

Max looked down at her watch almost as if issuing a challenge. "I'll see you tomorrow night at eight, Stan."

"No you won't!" He hollered over the bell as it chimed while she exited. She simply laughed.

And once more she was on her own. She didn't mind though. It gave her the chance to think—scratch that—it gave her the chance to breathe. She refused to think on these walks, she simply wandered aimlessly. She didn't think about the awful dates; she didn't think about her struggling career; and she certainly didn't think about how everything in her life was falling apart.

No. This walk was a time to live in the moment. She'd listen to the crickets chirp... actually only the late night traffic could be heard. New Yorkers weren't exactly shy when it came to the horn. She'd feel the breeze brush out the tangles of her hair... maybe in a fairytale, now it tried to strangle her while simultaneously blinding her. And she'd smell the roses... or she would if she didn't have a severe pollen allergy and the musk of the sewers didn't entirely overpower the fresh scent of nature. Okay, so maybe the highlight of her night wasn't as glamorous as she'd imagined it at the beginning of the month. Even the stars were blocked by the city lights.

Or so she thought.

Straight overhead, the world rippled. As if the heavens had torn themselves apart, light erupted in hues of blues, pinks, purples, and greens. They circled and whirled, clashing together in array that she could only compare to fireworks bursting at the height of their flight. A deafening crackle echoed. The tips of her hair stood on end, electrified and stiff. Her entire body tingled as if she weren't meant to witness the ethereal fracture.

None of it mattered. She hardly even recognized the sensations coursing through her nerves because a key had been given and unlocked a chasm of her mind that she hadn't even realized existed. For the first time in her life, she finally saw.

The cosmos reflected in her eyes as thousands of lifetimes passed before her. She gasped, but her breath was caught in her lungs, leaving an uncomfortable feeling of incompletion. Her head craned back as if seeking more. Satisfaction was an inch away, but the eternal climb outlived the illusion.

A streak of red, white, and blue was hurled from the center of the celestial vortex, contrasting the soft hues which were deceptively violent. Two separate beams of light followed then the world turned dark.

The power of the entire city experienced a blackout of mass proportions that were immediately followed by a cacophony of complaints.

Breath returned to her lungs, completing the climax of her gasp with fresh air. She placed a hand to her chest, bending over to regain her composure as she blinked the last of the stardust from her eyes.

Then her mind coped in the only way it knew how. She laughed. A loud, obnoxious laugh that brought tears to her eyes. It was ridiculous to think about, but it had almost felt as if the universe had put on a show for her.

She wiped away her tears and steadied her breathing. Then she froze. The blackout was still in full effect, but the world had become illuminated by a soft pink glow contained in lines like string.

Her head whipped around, but everywhere she turned the little lines of string followed. And then she noticed that the soft glow had a source, emanating from the chests of passerbys, from unlit apartments, from the rows and rows of traffic, from the shops, and from the restaurants and the bikers and the joggers. There was no one source. It was everywhere and anywhere.

The longer she looked, the more she saw. The strings and the glow were connected, often to one another. Those little red chords wrapped around the soft heart-shaped glow and connected one individual to another. Some were beside one another. Some had a string tugging them toward the distance. And some stood beside one person but their string wandered in another direction.

Then she looked down at her own chest. The soft pink glow was present, but it changed and shifted, dancing between shades of blue and pink and purple and green. Yet there was no little red string; instead, a chord of gold had a chokehold on her glow. It was only a second, but it felt like a lifetime as she experienced dozens that were not her own.

Flashes of red hair danced before her eyes, only it wasn't always red—sometimes black, sometimes brown, sometimes blonde—there was one constant through the visions though. A boy. And a name. Peter. It echoed and ricocheted around the inside of her mind like a child who'd had too much sugar.

Perhaps that's all it was. A sugar crash. She looked down at the empty bowl in her hands, ignoring the fact that most of the strawberry delicacy had fallen to the floor and melted into a pink puddle. It was probably the only pink thing she'd seen in the last ten minutes that wasn't glowing.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes, muttering under her breath as if that would convince her that lies could be truth. "It's just the sugar rushing to your head... let's just get home and sleep it off."

If only it were that simple. She'd find that no amount of sleep could change the lens she'd been gifted. And without realizing the change, she took her first step forward into her new life while leaving everything else behind in the past.

════════ • 🕸️ • ════════

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬| I've been absolutely obsessed with this idea. I have such big plans for it, and technically yeah it's a soulmate au, but I think this will be a neat twist; especially since it will be an underlying theme to this specific branch of the multiverse. I'm so excited to play around with the concept and there are certainly big things that will come into play later. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out sometime in the next few days. Stay tuned for Peter's discovery of the world he returned to in comparison to the world he left behind. As always don't be afraid to vote and leave a comment!