Chapter One! Super excited for this story! Gonna keep this note short, so dedication to MelodyHoward , thanks for being my first reader!

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Peter

I grazed my finger along the name tattooed on my wrist. I wish that I could do what Pete Davidson had done and just burn the name off. It wouldn't be that hard, all I would need was an open fire and a lot of pain tolerance. But every time that I had planned to go through with it, part of me would hold back.

As much as I didn't believe, a small part of me did. I always wondered what would happen if I actually did meet my soulmate. The countless scenarios would run through my mind. I haven't met a Pete since I had stopped dating over a year ago. I would remember what it was like to feel like I was in love. Every touch would send sparks throughout my body and every time I heard his name, chills would shoot down my spine.

But he had hurt me. I was nothing to him, just a toy that he could use. I still think about what happened between us all the time. I didn't miss him, I missed what we had. I wasn't angry at him anymore, rather than angry about what he had done. It was the cruelest prank anyone could ever pull, and of course I had to be the victim.

My eyes flickered around the coffee shop, jealous of all the people. They were all laughing and talking to other people, like nothing else mattered in the world. Everyone had a spark in their eyes and excitement in their voice. It was crazy to think that one person could mean the world to someone. I didn't even want a soulmate, I had just wanted a friend.

All through high school, I was bullied for having a guy's name on my wrist. I was the school faggot, the outcast, the loser, the emo, the kid that no one cared about. I couldn't tell you the number of times that I would go home at night and take a razor to my skin, and slashed at that name until I cried myself to sleep. Peter.

It's not that I didn't believe in love, it's that love didn't believe in me.

"Hey, Stump!" I heard my boss yell from the room next to the kitchen. I nearly dropped the cup that I was holding.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, um, yes?"

"You have people to serve, you know!" He called back, with just the right amount of sarcasm and sass in his voice.

I looked up and saw a line of about three people waiting to order. "Right, uh, yeah, got it!"

I put on a fake smile for the customers and tried to be polite as possible. It was difficult; the first customer was a businessman who was obviously late for some "super" important meeting or conference that made everyone and everything else around him irrelevant. It took all of my willpower not the slap the arrogance out of him. Then I had to deal with the joy of serving a mother who kept yelling at her three kids who insisted on annoying everyone in the shop. And last but not least, there was your basic white suburban mom who insisted that her venti skinny hazelnut macchiato was not heated to exactly 120 degrees and I had to re make her drink three times.

My job wasn't the most labor intensive one in the world, but the people I had to deal with made it the most exhausting thing in the world. If I had to deal with one more obnoxious customer today, it would probably be enough to set me off and blow my brains against the ceiling.

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I slammed my apartment door shut behind me. It wasn't intentional, and it was out of relief more than out of frustration. Relief that I no longer had to be around people, and that I was able to come home to my empty apartment and be myself. No fake smiles, no forced politeness, no trying my hardest to avoid any conversation whatsoever.

I've always found this funny. Ironically, I'm the most out-going when I'm alone. Most people find comfort spending an evening out with friends, and they'll miss them when they're alone or away. They seek comfort in other people, and express themselves the most when they have company. They act true to themselves, and they can be themselves in the presence of others.

But I'm the complete opposite. I find comfort in loneliness. That might be part of the reason I don't believe in love. I just don't think that I can commit my entire life to any person other than myself. I know it sounds selfish, buts it's who I am. It's who I've always been, and who I always will be. I'd rather spend a night at home, listening to music, reading, or watching TV instead of hanging out with the few friends I've managed to make over the years. When I'm with others, I'm the shy, introverted Patrick that people are used to. The awkward, stuttering, hot mess that others perceive me as. Minus the hot.

But when I'm alone, I can be myself. When plans get cancelled, I let out a sigh of relief. When all of my friends are busy, I can't help but allow a small smile to sneak onto my face. I become the confident, out-going Patrick that only few people have seen on occasion. I usually vent by just sitting on my couch, playing random guitar chords and matching them with random words. I've never been much of poet, my lyrics sound similar to a twelve year old white boy's "bars". But it never fails to put a smile on my face as I laugh at my cliche lyrics and rhymes about my day.

Part of me wonders how this would change if I did find my soulmate. Would I just always be the shy Patrick everyone else sees? Would I just keep everything bottled up inside me forever? Or would I actually open up to that person, and allow them to see the side of me no one expects? Both of those questions scare me. If I didn't live by myself, I think I would go insane from spending that much time with one person. I would never have alone time. I would keep the Patrick no one sees-- the Patrick that I like better, because screw what everyone else thinks-- to myself, and I would just lose it. On the other hand, I could never see myself showing that side of me to another person. It was like my dirty little secret. I found comfort in the fact that no one knew who I really was, and that no one could change that part of me.

All the more reasons to spend the rest of my life alone.

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I should have said no. I should have never given him my number. You're such a dumbass, Patrick. Why?

Rewind five minutes.

"I swear to God, Stump, if you ignore one more damn customer, I'm gonna fire your ass" I heard my boss yell a threat I heard at least three times a day. He would never act on it though, as he actually got along with me, unlike some of the other employees. But he was right, as I had zoned out on a customer for the God-only-knows-how-many-th time today.

"Right, uh- sorry!" I wasn't sure if I was yelling back to him, or the customer in front of me. I turned to face the customer in front of me and I self-consciously pushed my glasses onto my face. It was a habit I picked up whenever I felt insecure or nervous. Currently, I was feeling both, because holy smokes this man was hot.

"Uh- hi. Welcome to Starbucks- m-may I take your order?" I stuttered a little as I tried to compose myself.

The man chuckled at my awkwardness and I could feel myself blushing.

"Yeah. I'll just take a venti iced coffee. Black." I sighed in relief at his simple order as I wrote it on the cup.

"And your n-name?"

"Pete."

Fuck. I nearly dropped the cup at the mention of his name. Keep your cool Patrick. He's a Pete, not a Peter.
Soulmates do not exist, you're going to be alone for the rest of your life. It's going to be okay.

"You alright there?" Pete asked.

I looked up at him and nodded, pushing my glasses. "What? Oh, yeah. Just clumsy, that's all. Very clumsy." I typed his order in on the register. "That'll be 3.99."

I tried my hardest not to touch his hands as he gave me the exact change. Of course, it didn't work. I  tried my hardest to ignore the "electricity" I felt when our fingers grazed over each other's. This isn't a goddamm romance novel, get over yourself Patrick.

I decided that I needed a break from the register and had my co-worker, Joe, fill in for me as I helped Andy with making the drinks. Of course, I ended up with Pete's drink. I quickly made it and walked it over to the counter.

"Venti iced black coffee for P-Pete." It felt almost weird saying his name.

He walked over and shot me a sly smile that made me weak at the knees. "Thanks-" He trailed off as he read my name tag. Fuck.

Instead of saying my name, or, I don't know, getting his drink and leaving, he reached across the counter and grabbed my arm. I was surprised at his sudden actions and the invasion of my personal space. "Woah, dude. What the h-hell?"

He pushed up my sleeve to reveal his name. Peter. He let go and I grabbed my wrist, rubbing it in slight pain. I watched as he pushed up his own sleeve, revealing my name. Patrick. Of course.

"Date me." He blurted out.

My eyes went wide. "Um, excuse me?"

"Look, kid, I'm twenty five. I'm going to die old and alone if I don't find my soulmate. Your name matches my wrist, my name matches your wrist, so why not?"

"Why not?" I scoffed. "Because soulmates don't exist."

"Come on." He pleaded, dragging out the last syllable. "I promise it won't be as bad as it seems. Just one date."

"No."

"I'll do anything, I swear. It can just be one date. You can leave me after that if you want. I mean, I'll probably still chase after you because you're my potential soulmate and hella cute, but that's not the point. Please, pretty please, Patrick?" He attempted to make a puppy dog face, but instead of a sad puppy, but instead came across more like a confused, slightly constipated one.

I chuckled. "Your puppy dog face sucks. And I said no." I was surprised at my own confidence. It was as if I was actually comfortable around this guy.

"Dude, literally, I'll do anything. Please."

"No."

"It doesn't have to be a date." He was practically begging me at this point. I took a minute to enjoy this moment, as someone was actually listening to me for once. Usually in a conversation, especially in a group, everything I say gets ignored. Any opinion I have is invalid. When everyone else wants to do something, and I don't they just ignore me, and let me be alone. They didn't convince me that I needed to come with them. They didn't need me. But I kind of enjoyed the feeling of being needed. Besides, this was fun to watch.

"No."

"C'mon, it'll just be like a bro thing. We'll just hang out-"

"Pete, I've already s-said no a thousand times." I pushed my glasses back onto my face again.

He smirked. "You know, it's really cute when you do that thing with your glasses." I blushed and involuntarily did it again. "You're just cute in general.'

"S-stop. You're just t-trying to flatter me to get me to say y-yes."

"No." He said. "Okay, maybe a little, but I mean it."

I sighed. "Can't you just leave me alone? I mean, I'm also k-kinda at work here."

He groaned. "Please. We don't even have to hang out. I just want your damn number."

"If I say yes, will you l-leave me alone?" I was already looking forward to stop having to talk to someone.

"Yes."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a pen from a nearby counter. I took his hand and wrote my number on the back of his hand. "There. Happy?"

He was smiling so much you would've thought he just won the lottery. "Yes, extremely. I'll text you." With that, he winked, grabbed his coffee, and walked out of the store, leaving me to recall what had just happened. I can't believe I actually gave my number to him. He was flirting with me from the minute he saw me. He wasn't my soulmate. No. They don't exist. Love isn't real. It's just a temporary rush of chemicals and endorphins and all that scientific crap that just messes with your emotions. I already regretted giving my number to him.

I should have said no. I should have never given him my number. You're such a dumbass, Patrick. Why?

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But like, just imagine Patrick as a Starbucks barista. And this chapter was longer than expected but hey who cares.

Anywho, I'm soooooo excited for this story! Sorry for the long wait, I was really stressed with school and relationships and family issues but it's all sorted out now. I think I might lay off LTFB for a bit and focus on this story.

But because this is new, please tell me what you think! Any and all feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much!