You were an error in the system because you loved someone but not the one you were supposed to love.

♦  Pairing: Jungwoo x reader (+soulmate!Johnny)

♦  Genre: angst, romance, dystopian

♦  Words: 5k

♦  A/N: The whole soulmate system is based on my imagination but I hope you like it nevertheless! ♥

You wish you could say that you knew Johnny Seo wasn’t the one for you the moment you met him, yet you can’t. The realization ‒ just like a life-threatening disease that doesn’t show any symptoms in the beginning ‒ slowly killed you from the inside.

Ever since you were young, you were taught that the system doesn’t have any holes, that the matchmaking results are never wrong. People invented the soulmate system for a reason; they sought perfection, they wanted the best for the society and stability for the future generations. It was said to prevent divorces, infidelity and loneliness or any other consequence that might come from spending your time with someone else rather than your soulmate – that so-called only one for you, your other half and the love of your life.

Since you turned 6 years old, you were called in for interviews with the committee of the local government to answer their questions. The questions were based on your habits, daily routines, preferences, interests and anything related to your ideal type. They knew your background, your academic achievements, your IQ, thus they didn’t need to ask about what they’ve already known. While speaking, your heart rate and facial expressions were monitored, so that they could tell when you were lying. Lying was severely punished, that’s why speaking the truth was the only option for everyone.

The interviews took place in the building of the local Soulmate Organisation, in a dark room with nothing except the lying detector and the heart rate monitor. The committee members were on the other side of a large, opaque mirror, asking the questions that you heard from a speaker. Your parents were asked to wait in the lobby to minimalize the chances of your opinion being affected by others.

The interviews happened yearly except the last ones because after your 17th birthday, you were asked to come back twice before your next birthday. It’s because they wanted to make sure that they have found the perfect soulmate for you before they would introduce you two. You could only meet your soulmate if you turned 18, and if your soulmate was younger than you, you could only meet if your soulmate also turned 18. Although it was scarce that soulmates were more than three years apart. You never even dared to question why it was difficult to love someone who was more than three years younger or older than you.

Consequently, it was illegal for minors to date or to hook up with anyone, because why should they start going out with someone if it’s not their soulmate? Based on the collected data from your yearly answers and adding your family’s background, academic achievements and location, the choice was made by more than a thousand of professionals – professors, licensed relationship and family therapists, scientists, psychiatrists and doctors. The identity of these professionals was unknown although some rumours spread that they were the ones who had the only source of footage from the previous world – a world without the soulmate system.

“What does it feel like to meet your soulmate?” you inquired when you were younger, looking at your own parents with wide eyes. You were a curious child and you were reprimanded for nosing into others’ business a lot of times, yet you had always more questions than answers.

“Well…” Your father looked at your mother with loving eyes, his affection more than evident in his features. “It’s just seems right, you know? You meet each other, you start talking, and then you realize that your soulmate is really the one you’ve been waiting for. You have so many things in common, yet conversations are never boring for you two. You can always find new topics to talk about, and you seem to complement each other well. It feels right to be beside your soulmate.”

Needless to say, your father’s answer left you more puzzled than ever. You could see the way they gazed at each other, the way they held each other’s hand, the way they cried on each other’s shoulders and the way they were always there for each other. They were really a match made in Heaven – to be precise, in the system. It was the same all around you; your grandparents, uncles, aunts and friends finding their soulmates. They looked like puzzle pieces that found their other half, living that happily ever after. They were destined to be together, and a lot of them already had children.

You met your soulmate ‒ Johnny Seo ‒ on your 18th birthday. He was a tall, masculine boy with chestnut-brown hair and similarly coloured eyes. He was a communication major – aspiring to be a radio host – while you were also a communication major, but you wished to be a journalist. He was crazy about music and never once did you argue over music because he liked literally everything. He was fond of gardening while you liked flowers and plants. You adored cooking and he adored eating, so he basically ate everything you made even if it was burnt, overcooked or tasteless. You liked shopping and he also liked shopping, but he loved evaluating your outfits even more. You went jogging together, breathing in the fresh air of dawn. You went to the cinema quite frequently because both of you were cinemagoers, ready to point out every single plot hole or criticise an overly cringey or unrealistic scene. You killed time watching quiz shows, solving sudokus, playing board games, listening to the radio and cooking together.

Everything seemed perfect, everything was how it was supposed to be. Even if you didn’t feel what your parents were talking about, you were sure it was just because you were a late bloomer – you needed time to start growing feelings for him.

Not until you visited the little family-owned bakery on the street of your shared flat with Johnny, did you realize what was wrong.

The Kim Bakery had just opened when you first visited the aesthetic shop which always smelled like the most magnificent buttery croissants in the world.

“Hello! Is anyone here?” You stepped up to the counter, looking around for anyone who might work there. You almost went back to check the sign on the door in case it was nearing closing hours when a young man came out of – what you assumed was – the back kitchen.

“Oh hey, good afternoon!” The tall, lanky boy welcomed you with a sheepish smile that resembled blooming flowers in the spring and the warmth of the rays of sunshine in summer. He was anything but intimidating in his flour patched apron and ruffly sand-like hair. “Sorry, I was just putting another tray of croissants into the oven,” he immediately apologised, scratching the back of neck in embarrassment.

You couldn’t help a small smile forming on your lips. Everything about this boy screamed pure innocence and he radiated such affection that almost swept you off your feet.

“No problem. It’s also a part of your job.” You gave him a wave of your hand, indicating that you weren’t offended by his lack of absence.

The boy’s lips raised into a coy smile, his toffee eyes wandering all over the place. He didn’t want to meet your eyes, yet you couldn’t quite put a finger on the reason behind his behaviour.

“What can I get for you?” he inquired after silence stretched too far between the two of you, and placed his hands on the counter behind the baked goods.

“I’d like a loaf of that whole-grain bread with chia seeds, two strawberry cream horns and two cinnamon buns,” you said as you pointed at the chosen pastries, knowing that both you and Johnny had a sweet tooth, so it wouldn’t take you long to consume everything you would purchase that day.

The baker boy carefully put your order into colourfully decorated bags with the logo of the bakery printed on its back and looked at you when he finished.

“Is that all?”

His curious gaze was sending pleasant shivers down your spine, your insides turning into jelly as you processed the sight. His shyness was truly otherworldly, you had never met anyone who was as adorably bashful as him, yet his coy little smile was the one that drove you to him like a magnet.

“Yes, I guess.” You cleared your throat as you regained your composure, miserably failing at keeping an indifferent reaction. It took everything in you to avoid meeting his eyes when you gave him the money and left the bakery.

Unbeknownst to you, as you walked out of the place, a childish grin was plastered on your face, and a stranger who walked past you assumed that your soulmate was the one who made you so giddy.

Technically, it wasn’t your soulmate. However, you already felt in your core that the baker boy was the one who made you feel this way and not Johnny. You didn’t know if it should frighten you or make you feel better. At least, you could feel something towards a certain boy even if it wasn’t your soulmate.

Two days later, your legs immediately found their way back to the bakery. You didn’t intend to be a regular customer, but your curiosity got the best of you.

“Already back?” the baker boy asked with his trademark smile, his almost-shaped eyes forming little crescents as he met your eyes. There was something oddly broken about him that you hadn’t noticed last time as if his shyness had been something that was a result of a certain hurtful experience.

You dismissed your thought as you stepped up to the counter.

“Yes, my soulmate is a really big eater,” you chuckled to yourself, realizing the weight of your words only when you saw his smile wither. You didn’t have a reason to feel guilty because the baker boy wasn’t your soulmate after all. On the other hand, you somehow wanted to keep your relationship with Johnny a secret, not really knowing why.

“So you’ve met your soulmate.” The lanky boy regained his senses faster than you, his abrupt disappointment replaced by his usual glee in a matter of seconds.

“Yes. A year ago,” you admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t keep quiet for a long time; thus you decided to turn the tables and ask about his soulmate instead. “How about you? Are you still waiting for her?” You raised an eyebrow in question, unsure as to what kind of answer you wanted to get. Why would it matter anyway? It’s not like you were his soulmate.

The baker boy’s whole face was painted sickeningly pale as soon as he heard your question. He tilted his head in contemplation, his reluctance making you want to take back your question.

“Mine? Oh well…” He clenched his jaw as if he had been gathering up his courage to confess something. Before you could tell him that he didn’t have to answer your question if it made him that uncomfortable, he revealed why he was hesitant to answer you. “My soulmate died.”

The sentence was left hanging in the air for a solid minute. You felt like all the oxygen was out of your lungs, you had a hard time breathing. Suddenly, the fragile side of the baker boy made perfect sense and you wished nothing but to give him a big hug. Luckily, you hadn’t lost anyone, your grandparents