Transcendence: A Request Prompt (5/5)

Connecticut
United States of America
November 2119
Jones, Elena

“You’re not being fair to him.”

Elena narrowed her brows. Her sister, Amelia Jones, had walked into her bedroom without a knock on the door. “What is it, Amelia?”

“The boy you met in New York,” the brunette other went on. Elena felt something stir in her stomach at the indirect mention of Ansel, who she had left in the big city while she travelled back to have Thanksgiving with the Jones clan. “Arnold? Anthony?”

“Ansel.”

“Right. Well, you’re not exactly being the fairest girlfriend in the world to him, El.” Elena clenched her fist, trying to ignore her taller older sister. Her grip on the colored pencil tightened. “All he did was try to get you to open up more to him, and then you just…shut him out. Based on what you ranted to me when you got here, at least.”

“I did not shut him out,” Elena insisted. “It’s him – he’s shutting me out!”

Amelia pinched her temples in frustration. “Fine. Let’s say he’s shutting you out. So you retaliate by shutting the poor guy out, too? Christ, Elena. It’s like him all over again–”

“Don’t you dare mention that cretin,” the girl threatened. Amelia lifted her arms slowly. “So, fine. Yeah. I did push Ansel away even though we’re in a relationship. Can you blame me? The other asshole traumatized me,” she muttered, looking back at her sketchpad and adding a few more strokes to the drawing. Amelia stayed quiet for a moment, soon joining Elena on her bed. The pair remained quiet for a few minutes.

“He isn’t like your ex.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

Transcendence: A Request Prompt (4/5)

New York City
United States of America
December 2118

Contrary to due belief, getting to know your soul mate after finding out who they were wasn’t all sunshine and romantic moments.

Ansel learned that as he returned to the coffee shop a week after, wearing colder gear in preparation for the December weather. He had managed to find out (through Jae) when Elena would usually get off work – and he had promised the Korean, as well as Marion, that he would get to know the barista a little better.

So there he was, sitting in the same booth as he did the previous week, drinking from his latte patiently, the banoffee pie halfway done. Ansel’s foot tapped on the ground rather impatiently, he glancing at his watch every couple of minutes, waiting until the short hand struck four.

And when it did, he heard her voice ring out.

“I’m off, Luke. Should I overtime tomorrow?”

A mumble came from the barista’s corner and he heard her laugh. Ansel felt warmth fill him up all of the sudden; it seemed like it had gotten too warm all of a sudden. So he attempted to alleviate himself by stuffing a forkful of banoffee pie into his mouth, not realizing that she had just stopped and stared at him.

Ansel, eating his pie awkwardly, kept his gaze on the table until she cleared her throat.

“Retel?”

He nearly choked on his food, taking a swig of coffee to push it down. Elena merely kept staring, face blank, and Ansel felt the blood rush to his face as it did a week prior. “E-Elena,” he managed. Ansel looked up and saw her standing there, her wavy hair down this time.

It was the first time that he had seen her properly, not counting when he had nearly passed out in front of her.

And all he could think was wow.

Transcendence: A Request Prompt (3/5)

New York City
United States of America
November 2118

“Free – Free, are you alright?”

Ansel quickly let go of his burning arm, looking up. In front of his desk stood Marion Salazar, the female peering at him with a frown. “M-Marion. I’m fine, why are you asking?”

“You’ve been clutching at your arm like you got bit or something,” the female noted. Marion was a hair and makeup artist at the company where they worked, the twosome hitting it off during one of their breaks. Ansel had been taking charge of the camera for an endless amount of hours, and the curly-haired girl took pity on him. By the end of the day, he saw a sandwich and hot cup of coffee on his desk, along with a note scribbled on pink post-it.

Hiya! I saw how hard you worked today without a single break. Here’s a small reward from me. We can eat tomorrow if you’d like, before the next shooting!

PS: No need to pay me. :P

-Marion Salazar

Ever since then, the two bonded and became very good friends. Marion, apparently, had been living in New York since her birth and had already found her Soul Mate. Her own outline was colored in with a gentle lilac color, and there were also twelve tick marks on her right wrist.

“It’s been bugging me, actually,” he admitted to her. The woman blinked, confused. “Well. When I woke up, it was itching a little bit. I thought a mosquito bit me and didn’t think of it, but it just suddenly went wild and I feel like something burned me,” he complained. “I might go to a doctor if this goes on. It’s fucking me up.”

Marion was silent for a few moments.

“Mar? Marion? What the hell’s wrong–”

“Itching?” she asked abruptly, staring him in the eye. “Then a burning sensation?”

“Yes–”

“Do you have a gut feeling?”

“Yes – wait, how’d you know?”

The concerned look on Marion’s face immediately vanished. Instead, a smug and all-knowing smile replaced her small frown. “You know what? Let’s go to Starbucks. You need a quick fix before your next take, which is in four hours.”

“I can’t leave, you know that.”

“Fuck that. You’ve been OTing, you deserve a leave.” Marion yanked him from his seat harshly, “Now let’s go, Free.”

Transcendence: A Request Prompt (2/5)

New York City
United States of America
November 2118
Jones, Elena

The catty smile matched Elena Jones’ personality; sly and deviant, quick-thinking with touches of sophistication all around.

“An order for Marion,” she called out, her sugar-sweet voice disguising the boredom that lay behind. “Americano and a Toffee Nut Latte.” She watched as a tall girl with an equally tall boyfriend approached the counter, the one named Marion flashing the receipt. Elena smoothly scanned the paper and stamped it, the male sweeping the drinks into his hands afterwards.

Out of habit, she scanned the male and saw what she was looking for:

A black heart outline located on his wrist, colored in with gold.

“Marion,” she heard him speak. Elena quickly turned away and pretended to check on the coffee machine, listening to the male speak. “Did you know that birds of the same feather are the same bird?”

Elena wanted to faceplant into the coffee machine. The man’s odd choice of words, punctuated with his deep and slow voice made him seem like a –

His girlfriend, Marion, gave a disgruntled sigh. “Shut the fuck up and let’s leave.”

                    

“How cruel,” the man sighed, and she heard the retreating steps of the pair. Elena couldn’t help but laugh to herself at the odd pairing that those two made.

Ever since her childhood, Elena Jones firmly believed in the existence of a soul mate.

She was born with the same heart-shaped outline on her right forearm; meanwhile, twelve tick marks were easily locatable on her right wrist. As she grew up, her parents explained to her the significance of those marks, persuading her to look for said soul mate when she grew up. 

Elena agreed – but it didn’t stop her from dreaming or fantasizing about how she could meet the person or who the person was.

Back in her hometown of Connecticut, nearly all her friends had already found their respective match/es by the time they had graduated. Elena recalled feeling happy for them, but deep down, a small feeling of envy began to foster in her heart. Despite that, she could only smile and listen as they recounted tales of how it finally felt to find someone.

Others would usually scoff and comment how boring it was, to have a lack of adventure in finding them. Elena merely shook her head.

Transcendence: A Request Prompt (1/5)

New York City

United States of America

November 2118

Free, Ansel

Finding your soul mate, his mother had told him, is like reliving your experiences of true love.

Ansel Free never really understood the comparison. After all, experience of *true* love – the purest love, the most beautiful kind of love – was only to be experienced once in someone’s entire lifetime. So Ansel attempted to refute his mother’s statement, saying that true love was a one-hit kind of thing; however, she merely smiled and told him that he would understand more when he was older.

(Ansel hated it.)

As the boy grew up, he never felt that zap of love that people tended to feel. In high school, a few of his friends had experienced it. During college, around half of his peers found the person they were looking for – as cliché as it had initially sounded.

Soon enough, Ansel found himself caring less about soul mates as he worked his way through his chosen course. The male worked late nights as he balanced academics and his extracurricular activities, living and loving coffee as well as take out. After a total of four grueling years, Ansel Free had walked and received his diploma – a sign of his achievement.

A total of seven months later, Ansel was working in the real world. He had been hired by a multi-media company after various others had looks at his resume and school records, immediately thrust into the field of film making and the arts. Content enough, Ansel worked hard and aimed higher, into bigger areas. Smaller-scale companies turned into bigger ones, paychecks went from just right to splurging once in a while. Before he knew it, Ansel had filled a sense of fulfillment. His longing to be beneficial in the real world was being satisfied; after all, he had a stable (and enjoyable) job, a comfortable apartment and a good social life.

He lacked in one certain aspect, however.

To put it specifically, his life lacked color.

Ansel Free, at twenty-four, still had the heart insignia on his forearm uncolored.