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When Joel told Grian about the soulmate theory, Grian almost laughed in his face.
“The soulmate theory? That just sounds like something that lonely people make up to feed whatever delusions they have.” Grian scoffed. He never believed in love- his parents were estranged and all of his relationships managed to end in some way or another.
“I don’t think this would work out.”
“We should break up.”
“Let’s take a break.”
“Don’t ever speak to me again.”
Yeah, relationships really weren’t his thing, but he was fine with it. He’d made peace with that fact, and he was happy watching his friends find the love they deserve. Speaking of:
“Lizzie blummin’ told me this Grian, it’s obviously true!” Joel threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “And besides, you’re the lonely person out of the two of us. Shouldn’t you be telling me this, by your logic?”
“Mate, you guys are literally engaged,” Grian says, pointedly ignoring the last sentence Joel had said. “You talk about her every chance you get, and you’re pretty much obsessed with her.”
“Obsessed and proud.”
Grian rolls his eyes. “Anyways, the point is that you’re obviously gonna agree with what she says.”
Joel stands up and grabs the cookies Grian had made on the counter. “Well, even if you think it’s not true, it’s true.”
“What kind of statement is that?” Grian exclaimed.
“All statements made by the great Joel Beans are correct,” he declared. “But anyway, Lizzie’s birthday is tomorrow and as you know, there’s a party tomorrow for my wonderful fiancé. You’re coming, right?”
“I haven’t even said yes or no yet,” Grian muttered. “But yes, I’ll be coming.”
“Great!” He opened the door to Grian’s apartment. “Well, if that’s all, then I’ll be off. It’s getting late anyways, the sun’s already set fully.”
“Bye, Joel.” Grian said, just as the door was about to close. Before he knew it, he was all alone. Again.
Grian got out his phone and searched up the soulmate theory in the tab.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” He mutters to himself.
It was actually real. At the top of the screen, it defined two statements that described a lengthened version of what Joel was talking about.
The soulmate theory. The idea that every individual has a pre-destined, ideal romantic or platonic partner that complements them perfectly.
And right under that it said:
The idea that a person can encounter their romantic or platonic partner in any way possible and the relationship between the partner and person would last indefinitely.
It definitely seemed like an interesting idea, Grian thought. It might actually be tr- nope. There’s no way that could ever be true, it even sounds like a bunch of nonsense. Grian got up from the couch he was sitting on and looked at the time on his phone. Realizing how late it was, he decided to go get ready for bed. There wasn’t any use in thinking about something that wasn’t real, anyways.
But was it really fake? A voice in the back of his head decided to make an appearance.
Grian decided to ignore that voice in favor of going to sleep. He needed the rest. He was going to Lizzie’s party, after all.
-
Grian had a problem. Grian had a big problem.
He couldn't find anything to wear.
Now, it wasn’t like he had nothing good to wear. He did! It’s just that nothing seemed right. He’s tried on practically everything in his closet- and he just couldn’t find anything. It’s his own fault, really, for putting his clothes in the wash right before the party. You’d think he had more common sense than this, since he’s an adult and all that, but apparently not. The one person he knows that does have sense, however, is someone that can help him with everything he needs and knows much more about redstone than he ever will.
“Okay, Grian, show me your closet,” Mumbo sighed. “There is no way whatsoever that there’s no- why are half of these clothes mine?”
In Grian’s closet were three pairs of the same red jumper and brown trousers, a regular tuxedo that at a second glance seemed a little bit too long, and a Mumbo For Mayor t-shirt that Grian had made as a gag gift for Mumbo a couple years back.
“Mumbo, I swear I have other clothes, they’re just-”
“In the wash, you’ve told me this about a hundred times. Look, why don’t you wear one of your three jumpers that you have? There’s no specific dress code anyways.”
“Well yes, but the thing is that I don’t want to.”
Mumbo should get an award for being friends with this guy for so long, honestly. He’s surprised he hasn’t strangled Grian yet, but if he was there himself instead of through the screen, he might’ve been charged for murder.
“Hear me out for a second here, I’m not insane,” Grian, noticing Mumbo’s frustration, decided to actually explain his thought process. Let it be known that he does value his life, even if he does things that contradict that very statement. “We’re going to Lizzie’s birthday with a bunch of people we both know and don’t know, right?”
“Well aware, isn’t that the whole reason-”
“And did I tell you what Joel said when he came over yesterday?”
“No, what did he say?” Mumbo asked, intrigued.
“Well, he didn’t outright say it…”
“For goodness’ sake Grian if you don’t-”
“Ahem. Now, as I was saying, he didn’t outright say it, but he hinted at it.” Grian gestured, flailing his arms to try and get his point across.
“Hinted at what, exactly? You’re the only one hinting at anything right now,” Mumbo said, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Obviously, they're gonna set me up. Do keep up, will you?”
“What did he even say- you know what? I’m just not gonna ask. You either figure this clothing situation out in five minutes when I’ll be at your house, or I’m leaving you to go by yourself.”
Grian walked out the house wearing his signature red jumper and khaki trousers.
“What was all of this even for?” Mumbo sputtered, exasperated.
“See, I thought about my issue a little bit more and I figured out the cause of it, which was that I wanted to look nice,” Grian explained. “And then I realized that I don’t have to worry, because I look nice in everything.”
“If your ego grew any bigger I fear it would be as big as your head.”
“See now that was insulting in so many ways…”
-
Grian hadn’t even been at the party for ten minutes and he’d already fallen- in the literal and metaphorical sense.
Everything was normal, in the sense that he was taking full advantage of the fact he’d managed to coerce Mumbo into being the designated driver out of the two of them. He said the happy birthdays to Lizzie and he teased Gem about having a hopeless crush on Pearl, the usual stuff.
He made a beeline to the red Solo cups- he would’ve bet money on the fact that Scott brought the shitty alcohol and Martyn drugged the drinks with something extra. As Grian drank more, the world seemed to become more bubbly and floaty, and soon enough his mind was too cloudy to wonder how much he had really drank.
He didn’t only drink though, participating in his fair share of party games that would’ve probably fit right at home in a broke college student’s dorm room. It didn’t take long for Grian to need some fresh air- the ringing in his ears and the feeling of sweat and heat in the air didn’t create a perfect environment for someone drunk out of their mind.
He wasn’t that drunk, Grian blearily reminded himself. The voice inside his head was ever-so-faint, so easy to ignore.
He pushed his way outside, and once again was reminded of his intoxication when he stumbled on a rock (or was it a branch?) and braced himself for the feeling of the concrete on his face.
It didn’t come.
Instead, Grian landed into something firm but soft, arms wrapping-
Wait a minute, he thought. That doesn’t seem right.
Grian looked up, squinting his eyes in the light above, and came face-to-face with the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life.
He was lean with broad shoulders, wavy hair, and scars littered throughout his face and arms, but his eyes were what made Grian’s breath stop. The man had the brightest emerald eyes he had ever seen, with an intense stare, almost as if he was analyzing Grian.
And then he smiled at Grian and said something but he wasn’t really listening because oh Void he could go on and on about that smile for hours.
It wasn’t really a smile- a smirk was the right word for it, and it was playful in the way that Grian hadn’t seen anything like it before. Throughout this entire thought process, the only thing that rung clear in his mind was the soulmate theory.
“Hello? Did you hear me?”
Of course his voice sounded amazing too. Just his luck he would meet the hottest man alive while drunk.
Grian straightened himself out of the man’s grip, realizing the precarious position he was in. Offering a hand out and balancing himself on the railing next to him, Grian started to speak.
“Yep, hello there! Sorry, what were you saying again?”
“Fell for the Goodtimes charm, did you?” He said, accepting his hand.
“Yeah,” Grian breathed.
The man might’ve said what was the corniest thing Grian had heard in his entire life, and it didn’t even make sense, but it was still true nonetheless.
The man chortled, an odd sound, but it seemed to suit him in the weirdest way possible.
“Wow, you really are drunk. I’m Scar Goodtimes, Imagineer extraordinaire. Who might your handsome face be?”
Grian felt his face heat up, so much so that he thought he would just die in that moment.
“I-I’m Grian,” he choked out. “Grian Zelqua.”
“Well, Grian,” Scar continued on, a twinkle in his eye that suggested he knew exactly the effect he had on Grian. “I was asking if you’re alright. You had quite the tumble over there. You’re also really red, are you hurt at all?”
Forget about thought. He was most decidedly going to die. He was going to spontaneously combust here on that balcony due to this man- no, Scar, with that shitty drugged alcohol in his system.
He found that he didn’t mind all too much.
Choosing to ignore the question (did he really choose? It seemed more like instinct to him), Grian opted for a question of his own.
“What are you even doing out here, anyways?”
“Do you mean out on the balcony, or at the party?“ Scar asked.
In hindsight, this was a reasonable question, but to an only slightly sobered-up Grian it was not.
“The party, where we were both invited because of Lizzie. Obviously I meant the balcony, pretty boy.”
Scar’s face was littered with emotion, however much unreadable they were. “You think I’m- nevermind. I just wanted to get some fresh air, probably the same as you!”
Scar glanced back towards the inside of the house, and Grian looked over too, where they both could see Impulse, Skizz, and two others Grian didn’t recognize clearly having a debate of some kind, with Mumbo watching intently while shifting around.
“But you clearly need to get inside to whoever is going to be driving you home, because there’s no way you’re going home by yourself. Who even is-“
“Before I forget to ask, can I have your number?”
Grian didn’t know what kind of demon possessed him to ask that question. Maybe it was how Scar interacted with him, or his gorgeous emerald eyes, or maybe it was that stupid soulmate theory that Joel told him only yesterday, although it feels like he’d known it forever.
Maybe it was love.
Whatever it was, the question was out in the open, and it was too late to take it back now (Grian wasn’t really sure if he even wanted to). The air hung between them, tense and unwilling. Scar’s face was a mixture of shock, uncertainty, and surprise that created an expression absolutely hilarious in Grian’s opinion. It took all his will and then some to push down the laughter bubbling in his chest.
“You’re drunk,” Scar said, and for a terrifying moment Grian had the doubt of him saying no because of it. “But I’ll give you my number anyways and you can decide whether you want to call me or not when you wake up tomorrow.”
Grian didn’t think he breathed a bigger sigh of relief in his life up to this moment. He handed over his phone and looked inside at what the he could see to distract himself, only to be met by a group of people, almost all his friends, staring at the pair and saying something unintelligible to each other.
“Scar,” Grian tapped his shoulder to get his attention, and Scar quickly looked over to see what he was looking at, eyes widening as he processed the fact that they were watching for Void knows how long.
The people watching dispersed (and as far as Grian could see, hid?) away from view when they noticed they were caught, and when Grian looked back at Scar, he held out Grian’s phone and his face had a pinkish tinge to it. If Grian looked in a mirror, he was sure his face would be the same.
“Here’s your phone back, sir,” Scar gestured dramatically, bowing as he handed out the phone in an exaggerated manner. Grian couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight, and soon Scar broke and joined in, leaving them both wheezing and gasping for air, with the phone still in Scar’s hand.
When they recovered, Grian took the phone back and thanked him, in the same exaggerated fashion. He was never one to be outdone (and his siblings took advantage of that fact every chance they got).
When they got back inside, Grian beelined towards the drinks and had at least two before being bombarded by people he knew, ranging from the ooh did you fall in loveee that came from people like Pearl and Jimmy (who had that obligation to tease him as his siblings), to the heh, I told you the blummin’ soulmate theory was real that came from Joel and Lizzie (although the latter bragged far less).
Grian endured the miles of teasing he had to go through (with the help of the drink station beside him) and later allowed himself one last look at the room when leaving, hoping to find a specific someone.
He saw Scar talking to Lizzie and Jimmy and at that moment shouting BAM! before breaking out into giggles.
Maybe the soulmate theory really is real, he thought, before being promptly dragged out by Mumbo with the excuse of “stop ogling him you already have his number”.
END.