2: Newbie, New Soulmate
1805 Words
Seeing his left arm covered with a sleeve tattoo, Count smiled bitterly.
Nine years. It has been nine years since he turned eighteen, nine years since he got himself inked and covered with tattoos to hide the lip-shaped birthmark on his wrist.
And it has been fifteen years ago since his twelfth birthday, too. Fifteen years since the day he got abducted alongside Kiara. Yet, the underlying memory of his soulmate and the day he lost her to the world still kept on haunting him until the present, has never left him to experience peace.
Forcing himself out of his reverie and the episode of his mind wandering, he slapped himself in the face quite literally the shook his head.
Wake up. Pull yourself together. This isn't the right time to reminisce the past and once again succumb to the familiar feeling of breaking.
Count sighed to himself for the last time at a glance at his arm's reflection in the mirror.
The tattoos look dirty. Nonetheless, it's still better to see than my birthmark.
It was another usual day, boring, probably nothing new would occur, he supposed. Just yet another day of miserable existing but barely feeling alive.
In his twenty-seven years of existence in such a messy world he couldn't leave but only endure, it has always been like that for a couple of years now.
This world is just ridiculous. This must be a plain joke and I'm living in a comedy film.
Because, would you believe that everyone believes in soulmates and that they would find their destined pair through a matching mark designated for two since they were born?
Birthmarks are made to point a person to their destined pair? Don't make him laugh. There's just no f*cking way.
Love is an imaginary entity people mistake from the mixture of being comfortable and attracted to someone they find appealing.
The moment Count lost the girl who had the same birthmark as him, his supposed soulmate, the hope in his heart that destiny and fate is real, everything disappeared.
If they are actually meant to be, then why did the heaven take Kiara?
And so, like a dead man who couldn't feel, he made himself busy. With all his time and efforts exerted to be the best and most effective head of the company he runs.
Soulmate? The moment he heard what happened to Kiara, he knew he wouldn't be able to find that thing in this lifetime anymore.
All he could do now is drown himself in works, waste the remains of his time in the office.
Never did Count imagine that his perceptions might soon change, though, neither did he expect that the ‘soon’ in question will immediately haunt him down in the form of a new addition to March-Tech's Research and Design department.
“I saw you first on the entrance and until here, and you look so irritated early in the morning, Mister. The crease in your forehead doesn't look pretty friendly, it makes you look hostile, you will horrify people and obviously scare them away.”
Count's ears perked at the soft voice that spoke.
For the first time in a while, especially with all the employees inside that building staying out of his way as much as they can, someone has chosen to ride the elevator at the same time as him— even initiated a conversation with him.
Pressing the buttons to the top floor, he quickly turned to the one who bravely muttered a long remark, raising one of his eyebrows in a questioning manner.
“Pardon?” He asked.
“Ah, I know a way so we can lift that mood up,” the girl grinned, “A boy in the nearby café gave me one free cup for helping him cross the road while carrying boxes. I can't drink two, or I'll be so high the whole day. You can take the spare—”
“No, thanks,” Count responded briefly, rolling his eyes in the process and straightening his stare at the steel elevator door.
“Come on, Mister. You're very intimidating without a smile in your face. Lift those lips up and take a gift from a stranger. I didn't put poison—”
“I don't care. Clearly,” he hissed as he tried to contain his voice from raising, his anger from skyrocketing too early in the morning.
Who did this girl think she is? Can't she just mind her own business and leave him alone?
However, she's a new face. Someone Count hasn't seen ever since. She must be a newbie or a visitor, and lashing out his anger in a person who's only being kind would be too rude, and he never wanted to act rude.
“This will only go to waste. Don't you know that plenty of the population couldn't eat three meals a day due to poverty? Wasting this would be very offensive if they learn that you're saying no to a free offer. So, either you take this or I'll force—”
“You're so stubborn, Miss whoever you are,” Count blew out a puff of sigh.
The guilt tripping managed to creep into the man and Count noticed how the girl's smile widened when he grabbed on the cup and held it in his front.
“You should smile, too. Smiling to start your day won't hurt, Mister!”
“Respectfully, no,” he scowled, refusing to do as he was told, “Name?”
“Name? Mine...? Oh, ah, Maxien. Maxien Alforque...” the girl stuttered.
At the same time as hearing the response, the elevator dinged open and the woman — Maxien Alforque, Count repeated so he wouldn't forget — walked away with a small wave and friendly smile.
Count's eyes dropped by the coffee in his hand and, unknowingly, his lips started to curve upwards and that small grin didn't leave his face until he reached his office.
“Hey, man, Lucien. You're late,” a boy winced, turning the swivel chair towards the door and greeting Count's presence with a visible frown.
“It's only for five minutes, Hunter.”
“Sure, boss,” Hunter nodded sarcastically. “The newbies are here, by the way. The research and design team are waiting for you on their floor.”
“What do I do with them?”
“Man, one's a beauty,” the boy whispered with a grin on his face. “Just saying. You might take interest, eh?”
“Shut up,” Count scoffed at his friend, “I won't ruin two soulmate's bond. I know d*mn well that no one of them is going to be my soulmate. I'm not like you. How many relationships have you wrecked again?”
“You'll be single forever with that kind of attitude, I'm telling you, Lucien. And, mind you, I only flirt, not ruin relationships and homes. Just at least welcome the newbies with simple words as motivation, boss. That would mean a lot. Don't scare them, especially the cutie. Ms. Alforque's fine, but her credentials are even finer. Just a few more experience and she'll be a great asset we should keep.”
~
“Good morning, Mr. Valdemor.”
“Sir, the newbie is here.”
“Good morning—”
“Sir? Oh my god...”
“Morning. Maxien Alforque?”
“Y-yes... yes, sir.”
Count nodded.
“I... I'm sorry for what I did in the elevator earlier—”
“Work hard and be diligent. Welcome to March-Tech,” Count simply said, cutting the girl mid sentence and then turned around to walk away after showering the department with his deliberate and not-so-wanted presence.
“I... I will do my best. I promise I will!”
As a response, Count only nodded, seemingly uninterested to stay around people who kept on stealing malicious glances at him, probably judging his whole existence and thinking to themselves just how much of an unlikeable man he is.
But before he could walk out of the scene, his ears perked upon hearing one bold question from his personal secretary, a.k.a. his friend, Hunter.
“Doesn't Mr. Valdemor look good? What do you think, Maxien? Ah, by the way, I hope it's okay to call you just Maxien? We're all friends in this building, after all,” Hunter politely added, “Excluding Mr. Hostile, of course. Don't mind him if he's not in the mood— he's always not in the mood.”
“Ah, yes, sir. Of course,” she nodded.
“Of course what? He looks good?”
“Yeah... yes? He looks good—”
“Hunter!” The oppressed boy's voice echoed in the whole floor, startling everyone and, in one second, killing the low laughter elicited by the oh-so-charming and playful Hunter.
Nonetheless, Hunter was unfazed, not even flinching. He kept the grin in his lips and continued, “Mr. Valdemor seems interested in you, eh.”
“Hunter Froilan Walt, I'm warning you!” Count scowled darkly once more.
In his peripheral vision, he thought he saw some people moving their seats back or lowering their gazes to look away from his probably darkening aura.
However, Hunter only chuckled loudly, furtherly teasing his friend, not even a bit of horror that he might lose his job could be seen in his proud stance.
“Whatever you say, Count Lucien Valdemor,” Hunter cackled, “Back to my agenda. What do you think, Maxien?
“Ah, sorry. But, I'm... already... engaged. With my soulmate, of course,” Maxien laughed softly.
Fortunately, she didn't seem uncomfortable with the question and Hunter's suggestive advances to push her to Count.
Thank God. Count wouldn't know how to act in front of his new colleague if ever Hunter has offended her—
“We're getting married in months,” the girl added. She then raised her left arm to display the ring that's wrapped around her fourth finger.
On the other hand, as Count looked over his shoulder to peek, as delirious and insane as his imagination, perhaps hallucination, may seem. Not only the ring was shown to them, also the girl's wrist with her supposed birthmark.
And Count knew it by that time. The reason behind the sudden shuffle in his demeanor and the immediate soar of his mood upon one sight of a stranger in the elevator, as well as it's sudden fall after learning that the girl is already engaged.
It's Maxien Alforque, the sole cause.
The girl has the same birthmark as him.
A lip-shaped mark on the left wrist. His second chance soulmate after Kiara Nichole Chavez who died in his arms fifteen years ago.
And Maxien Alforque is already engaged... with someone else.
- Writer
