It was cold enough to give you goosebumps. The sun peeked over the tops of the trees revealing little drops of dew on the grass around the patio. You sat in a patio chair and pulled up another to prop your feet on. Birds chirped, welcoming the warmth of the sun. Cars honked in the distance as Friday morning rush hour began.

You adjusted the notebook on your lap, adjusting your arm so you could write comfortably. With a deep breath, you wrote the first word. Soon, more came and before you were aware of it, you’d filled the page and needed to turn over to a clean sheet. This was your escape. When the world seemed to close in on you, drowning you in sorrows and regrets, you’d write poetry. You’d turn the ugliness inside into something tangible. It was a way to cleanse your heart of the heavy stuff. A way to keep going.

Truth be told, since graduating from high school, you were never hit with a lightbulb moment that led you to that thing you wanted to do with your life. You had an interest in many things, but nothing you could see yourself doing for money. For a career. Nothing seemed like it was good enough. Something you could be proud of if someone asked.

Still, your dad pressured you to go to college. General Studies seemed like a good idea at the time…

You exhaled hard, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes. You wouldn’t cry again. You don’t need his approval. You don’t need anyone’s approval. You don’t need anyone.

Yet, the tears still flowed.

‘Why am I like this?’ you thought miserably.

The patio door slid open. Mama poked her head out, “You’re up early. I thought you’d be in bed.”

You blinked rapidly in some attempt to dry your eyes before you looked at her. “No. I felt like writing.”

Her gaze lingered on your face for a bit longer than necessary, and she disappeared behind the blinds. You looked back at your notebook, annoyed to see tear stains on the page. Again. One day, you’ll write something that doesn’t make you cry. Dishes clinked and clanked as Mama moved around in the kitchen. You caught her mumbling to herself and, for a brief moment, wondered if you’d pissed her off, too.

You were in the middle of a new poem when she came back outside. “You looked like you needed this.” She set a cup of tea in front of you as she placed her own cup down in front of an empty chair.

“Thanks, Mama.” You took a second to admire the steam that rose from the smooth pink porcelain cup before blowing it away. She took a seat next to you. “I do.”

She hummed and pulled a small, rectangular white box from under her arm. She placed it on the table between you. SEOULMATE. Mama picked up her cup with care and blew on it, stirring her drink with a small spoon. “Have you heard of it?”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you eyed the box. “There’s all sorts of reviews on it on YouTube. It helps you locate and contact your soulmate. It’s being promoted by one of my favorite Kpop groups, GOT7.” The pieces clicked, and you frowned. “You want me to find my soulmate?”

She nodded and put her cup down with a sad frown. “I feel like I should do more to protect you, but I just don’t know how without going to jail.”

You squeezed her hand, touched. She rarely cried in front of you or Aubrey. “Mama, don’t. You’re doing everything you can. And I appreciate and love you for it.”

Mama wiped her eyes. “I thought this might make up for the storm of parenting we’re doing. I planned to give it to you later, but after last night, I thought you could use a positive distraction.” She pushed the box towards you. “So take it. Go find your person.”

“And then what?” You looked at her. “I don’t wanna leave you to deal with him on your own.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I can deal with him just fine. Besides, I have Aubrey as backup. But you,” she stood up and came around the table to take your face in her hands, “you need a break. I know school’s tough. You didn’t say anything, but I could tell his words cut you.” She kissed your forehead and let go. “I’ll keep telling you until I turn blue in the face, but baby, you gotta do what makes you happy. You! Do you remember how many times I asked if you were sure about college? About taking general studies?”

“Yes, Ma.” You nodded, a small smile curving your lips. “You were relentless.”

“You know why? Because I had a feeling your heart wasn’t in it. You were just going to be going. So I let you be. But now,” she leaned down and hugged you, “I’m begging you to be nicer to yourself. If you can’t pass the class, it’s okay. If you need to take it again, it’s okay.”

“Mama, I can’t afford another semester. I have to pass. It’s now or never for me.” You looked up at her.

“We’ll figure out a way to pay for your classes. Don’t sacrifice your mind and soul for this, _____. Please?” She picked up the box and put it in your hands. “Give yourself a break and meet someone new. Your life story needs a new, happier chapter.”

You laughed out loud as she patted you on the head then danced back inside, closing the door behind her. You stared at the box for a while. The chill in the air had disappeared, and the sun hung above the trees. A brown baby bird landed on the fence and chirped before taking off to join other little birds like it. Okay. You could at least humor her. You opened the box with care, breaking the sticker seal. Inside sat a simple smartwatch with a smooth black surface and white leather straps. It matched a bracelet you’d gotten from Wish, so that was a plus.

The face was cold to the touch. You glanced over the instructions and turned it on. Setting it up was easy. All it asked you to do was install the app and put the watch on. It paired after the second attempt then vibrated as it did its scan. You held your breath as an hourglass appeared on its face, turning upside down every minute while it searched the database for your soulmate.

Your soulmate. What if you didn’t have one? What if you did?

Then it let out a cute chirp. And then another. And another. And another— “What the hell?” You stared at it as it chimed seven times total. Maybe there were messages from your soulmate waiting for you to receive them. You smirked at the thought of your soulmate being eager. You tapped the screen and it lit up with a message that took up the whole screen.

7 PAIRS FOUND

Seven? Your shoulders slumped. “Great. A glitch.” Though you figured something like this could happen, you were still a little bummed. You dug through the user manual to find the customer service number. After an hour on the phone troubleshooting the device and resetting it four times, it still said you had seven soulmates. Seven different people, each with their own unique ID in the database. When the operator had followed every trick in the book, she put you on hold briefly to check with her supervisor for other options.

She never came back on the line. Instead, it beeped when it was disconnected. You called back five times but kept getting a busy signal. You huffed. You wondered what the others who’d been paired with you had to say about this.

With your phone in your hands, you closed your eyes and thought of what you should say. Should you play it cool? But what if it seems like you’re not interested? Okay, then you should show your excitement with lots of emojis. Ugh, but then it may look like you’re too excited. You weren’t excited. This was ed up. .

You opened the message center and composed a group chat with all seven of them. You exhaled and typed up the first thing that came to mind.

[You:] Has anyone contacted customer service yet? I got hung up on.

You expected a message back, but you got nothing. Okay. Well, it was early. They could be at work. Maybe they didn’t get the notification. If they were on the other side of the world, maybe they were asleep. Someone was bound to answer. Patience. You had to be patient and just give them some time.

You could do that.

Meanwhile…

It was always the energy of the crowd that did it for him. Yugyeom could swear he was powered by the love and excitement their fans showed. Even now, there was only a small fraction of their entire fandom lined up to meet them, yet they were loud. Their cheers were deafening as GOT7 crossed the small stage and took their assigned seats at the tables.

Yugyeom plopped down into his chair between BamBam and Youngjae, both of whom were already fidgeting restlessly. He understood their anxiety. The past meets had taught them to be careful, wary of even the slightest movement. Put on a bright smile and be ready to console.

Their leader was the only one brave enough to be first in line. Or at least Yugyeom thought so. Jaebeom was always ready to make that sacrifice for them. That was one of the many reasons Yugyeom admired him so much.

The first person stepped onto the stage and the main event began. Yugyeom sat up straight and watched the young girl push her sleeve back, revealing her pink SeoulMate. It looked like an ordinary smartwatch from where he sat. Before she got within arms length of Jaebeom, Yugyeom’s wrist began to vibrate and chime. The sound echoed in the loud room. He looked at his SeoulMate, eyes wide with disbelief.

PAIR FOUND

The world around him fell away as the words sunk in. He had a soulmate. He had someone! The giddy joy he felt disappeared when he turned to BamBam and saw his best friend also looking at his SeoulMate. Sound slowly faded back in and he nearly lost his hearing. The crowd was going nuts, a mixture of outraged screams and jeers. The security guards were the only barrier between the group and the mob that had once been their happy fans.

“What?” Yugyeom turned to Youngjae who’d jumped out of his chair at Mark’s request. Yugyeom stood too and Youngjae steered him towards BamBam. The group rushed off the stage, narrowly missing the first flying shoe.

The staff rushed to barricade the door behind them with tables and chairs. It was quieter backstage, and it was then that Yugyeom could hear the steady chorus of chimes and insistent buzzing of the other six SeoulMates in the room.

“Is this for real?” Mark tapped at his screen cautiously as if the thing would explode.

Jinyoung scoffed. “Of course not.” He pushed his device off his wrist and held it away from him. “How do I shut it up? It isn’t supposed to go off for this long, is it?”

“It isn’t entirely impossible.” Jackson failed to hide his joy.

“Yeah, but all of us? At the exact same moment?” BamBam eyed his device warily. “It’s an obvious glitch. More importantly, what about the event? JB, did you even touch her hand?”

Jaebeom shook his head. “No. Whatever this,” he shook his wrist, “is has nothing to do with any of the people out there.”

“So, what do we do?” Youngjae looked at each of them. “Say it’s an error. How do we fix it and what do we do about the schedule? There’s an angry crowd out there that may not listen to reason. But if it isn’t an error—”

“It is an error. No question about it.” Jinyoung took a step forward, and when he had everyone’s attention, he continued, “It simply isn’t possible for us to all be paired at the same time.”

Jaebeom nodded. “He’s right. This is too big of a coincidence.” He turned to one of the coordinators who worked for SeoulMate and was in charge of their events. “How quickly can tech support get our devices fixed? If we make good time, we can finish the event without going over budget.”

The woman nodded and pulled out her phone. “I’m on it.”

“And the crowd? Someone’s gotta go out there and talk them down.” BamBam pointed at the door.

Yugyeom looked at Jinyoung out of the corner of his eye and subtly pointed at him, “Send him. He can turn anyone to stone with that glare.”

“We’re being serious here!” Jinyoung snapped.

“Exhibit A.” Yugyeom sidestepped away from him. “Besides, if I’m wrong, he has—what—eight more lives?”

“Wait.” Jackson stopped Jinyoung from taking another step. “Our devices might be messing up, but shouldn’t their devices still function? I mean, the ones that do the simple scan aren’t affected by database issues. It compares the user’s atoms to whomever it scans!”

“He’s right!” Youngjae chimed in. “We can continue with those while the issue with ours is fixed. After that, we can perform the song.”

It was light a weight was lifted off their shoulders. Yugyeom was confident they’d make it through this. But, of course, it was often too easy to forget they didn’t have that kind of control. Their head manager, Seungjoon, broke through their little circle with a grim look on his normally cheerful face. “Bad news, guys.”

Jaebeom groaned. “Don’t tell me. He called.”

Seungjoon nodded. “He wants us to pack up and hit the road. We can’t afford any delays. That and if the crowd ‘can’t act civilized’ then they don’t deserve the opportunity.”

“It’s not their fault.” Jaebeom closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If it’s a technical issue then the company he agreed to do business with should take on the financial burden. These people take off from school and work for these events!”

Seungjoon held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just passing on the order. In the meantime, ignore the device. Don’t send any messages and certainly do not respond to them. Now, go hit up makeup and wardrobe so we can get out of here.” Seungjoon turned and headed to the staff.

Yugyeom waited until he was sure Seungjoon was out of earshot before speaking up. “Are we really leaving them with no explanation?” Everyone turned to Jaebeom, waiting for his response.

He bit his bottom lip and looked at his SeoulMate, still buzzing on his wrist. “We…we don’t have a choice. It isn’t our money. Knowing them, they have a statement already drafted up anyway.”

The group nodded solemnly and dispersed into the flurry of movement around them. Yugyeom didn’t move. He made sure no one was looking and took another peek at his device. Who did he pair with? User number 20140116. He read the number over and over, just to be sure he wasn’t wrong. But no, it was as sure as the sun in the sky. What were the odds? He knew he could a bit too idealistic at times, but this was insane. Beyond coincidence and free-falling straight into uncanny valley.

Maybe they each had a different pairing. To his knowledge, no one had checked their user pair except for him. Maybe this special person, with a number etched into his own heart, was meant for him. He believed in logic and such, but destiny was a real thing, too.

“Yugyeom!” Jaebeom bellowed over the sea of heads between them. “Get moving!”

Yugyeom huffed and gave him a thumbs up. ‘Later’, he told himself, ‘I’ll see how this plays out.’

The financial success of the SeoulMate technology was imperative. Any future expansion hinged on getting more investors for the research. The last thing Chahong wanted to hear about was technical issues. He was in his office going over the day’s data when his personal phone rang. Not many people had the number.

Park J.Y.

Surprising. He picked up on the fourth ring. “Yes?”

“You said your product was reliable. Fail-proof!” Park’s voice was little more than a hiss. “If this damages the label’s image, you’ll be neck-deep in a defamation lawsuit.”

“What do you mean? Has something happened?” Chahong asked as his assistant, Clara, rushed in with her tablet.

“How can you not be up to date on the tour?” Park was exasperated. “It’s all over the internet, the news!”

Chahong picked up the remote on the corner of his desk and the flat-screen TV. At the same time, Clara handed her tablet over. The headlines were all over the place but focused on a central topic: GOT7 all had soulmates. “What?”

Chahong clued back into Park’s ranting. “Our agreement was the devices they wear are simply props! They shouldn’t even be functional.”

“No, our agreement was for them to wear the actual product to help build the user database. They can’t do that with fakes, Mr. Park.” Chahong swiped through the pages of data on Clara’s tablet. “From the looks of it, they’ve all synced to the same user.”

“So, what? Did someone hack your system?”

Chahong scoffed. “Impossible. We operate on personal servers separate from public use. The satellites and firewalls are impenetrable from the outside. Anything changed or set in the database is marked with the employee’s credentials. User 20140116 has no edits.”

“You plan to fix this, right?” Park growled. “If it gets out that they all share the same soulmate, it’ll ruin all of us.”

“I’ll look into it right away.” He tapped his chin. “Though, I’ll need time to get to the bottom of this.”

“How much time? They can’t put their future events on hold for this.” Chahong heard paper rustling. “And we’ll need the earnings from this to fund them.”

Once again, Chahong was baffled by JYP Entertainment’s secret financial mess. The company was one of the big three labels in the Kpop music industry. Yet, JYP was barely keeping its head above water. It was the main reason his financial advisors suggested striking a deal with them.

“Look,” Chahong sat down, “our PR team will handle the press and internet. It’s a simple glitch that can likely be fixed with a reboot, or at worst, a reset. If anything, it’ll drive up sales. Buyers, specifically their fans, will have proof their devices are on and working.”

“You’d better hope so, Hwan. I mean it. I won’t hesitate to drag your to court.”

Chahong sighed. “You’re a lovely business partner. Goodbye, Park.” He put the phone face down on the desk, ending the call. He watched the wild, raw video of the now infamous SeoulMate event. It went from calm to chaos in the blink of an eye. Luckily, no one was hurt, but the speculation was running rampant from station to station. Though many suspected a technical flaw, a small few had correctly guessed the truth.

Huh. Seven people with the same soulmate. Who didn’t sync with each other. He sat in silence for a few minutes with Clara watching him spin slowly in his chair.

“And we’re sure no one’s done anything? From the inside?”

She nodded. “I checked everyone’s data entry history. Security went over the footage from the server room.”

Chahong nodded. He would have done the same. “Have them check again. Just in case.” She nodded and left. He picked up the tablet and stared at the data. It bugged him to no end. If the pairings were real, why didn’t the group trigger for each other? If they were all part of the same soul, how had his technology failed to see the connection?

Something wasn’t right. Worst still, he felt like the reason was staring him in the face and laughing.