4: Eight

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"Unlike your usual one-time soul bonds such as the timer mark, red string of fate or colour flood—"

She was a girl with a short pixie haircut—a necessary styling decision after accidentally getting epoxy resin in her hair. A girl with the tips of her ears naturally turned upwards like that of an elf—a feature she hated more than ever.

A girl with an upper lip that was slightly larger than the bottom one; a flat button for a nose; red puffy apples for cheeks; and ten times too many creases above her eyes than the average person.

"—the Gen Z soulmates are people who will experience more types of soul bonds than usual, with numbers ranging from two to four."

Today, she was smoking hot.

Her face was painted with makeup that accentuated the plump, puff of her lips and the deep cut of her high cheekbones. Her body was wrapped in a deep-plunge black number that made her ass and tits look a million times bigger than they actually were.

It was a look that she had spent two hours on.

Two hours. Two damn hours that Amber could have instead used on typing out another trashy smut on her computer. Two hours she could have spent watching yet another sappy drama, with a mug of hot cocoa and a plate of chocolate chip cookies by her side. Yet here she was, in a crappy hotel by herself with the memory of a bad date fresh in her mind.

"For example, a timer marked soulmate could find themselves with an additional compass mark the next day"

She sighed again, violently scrubbing away at the makeup with the cake of soap provided by the hotel. A cake of soap that she was sure would dry out her skin and give her pimples the next day. But at this point, she couldn't care less.

She just wanted to look like herself again.

"People experiencing the Gen Z soul bonds are reminded to stay alert, be cautious and seek help if in sudden unknown situations."

The showerhead was rusting and old; metallic paint peeling from the handles of the cheap plastic. But the hot water felt good on the knots in her back and she didn't care if the metal bits got in her hair. She scrubbed her skin red and raw until all she could smell was the scent of floral bar soap, and the memory of him was a nightmare that she could scarcely remember.

She stepped out of the bathroom with a thick fluffy robe draped over her naked body, towelling her hair as she walked to the bed.

The newscaster was familiar.

For the past five years, the channel featured the same moody, bespectacled dude with an uncanny resemblance to her uncle. As usual, his eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep, lips downturned into an expression that screamed 'I hate my job but I'm here for the damn pay.'

"Furthermore, on the topic of soul bonds, an alarming study by the University of Redwood revealed that a rising number of men are reportedly being paired off with girls in a reverse harem soul bond relationship."

Amber blinked, raising her brows and finally paying attention to the newscaster. Reverse harem. She chewed on her lips at the thought, a grin spreading across her cheeks. One girl with multiple soulmates. How interesting. The newscaster nodded as if he could see Amber's reaction through the screen.

"That's right, one female with multiple males. Scientists speculate this to be due to the historical female genocides which led to the imbalance of natural genetic exchange."

Amber stifled a laugh from bubbling out of her throat as she sank into the bed. Looks like humanity screwed up by continuously favouring the male gender in the past. She snorted, tilting her head as she thought of her grandmother.

A horrid old woman who did not acknowledge Amber's existence simply because of her gender. An old lady with a traditional mentality that sons should be favoured as they could carry the family bloodline and daughters were a waste of space and money. Her mother had spent her childhood eating scraps and leftovers, food that was given to the pigs on their farm, while her uncles feasted on chicken drumsticks and huge bowls of fluffy white rice.

A partiality that led to Amber's bitter hatred for her grandmother.

"There has yet to be a confirmation but men that have close relationships with one another, such as brothers or best friends, have a higher chance of obtaining the same female soulmate as it promises greater liveability."

Well, on the bright side, at least they were all friends or siblings. Her phone rang, beeps of flat mechanical sounds that notified her of an incoming call. It was a stupid ringtone that could appear strangely impersonal in its neutrality, but Amber liked it because strangers would never give her weird stares for using a default tune.

"Additionally, females under the reverse harem soulmate bond are giving birth to more than one child at a time. Twins are a common occurrence."

She picked up her phone, sliding her fingers over the cracked screen. The old thing had been with her since 2016. While it was battered and bruised, having survived the apocalypse called A-Clumsy-Teenager, Amber was a little too attached to replace it. That and her wallet was simply too starved to be capable of vomiting out enough cash.

Her best friend's name flashed on the screen.

Miri Castellaw

"Characteristics of a reverse harem soulmate bond include having more soul bonds than usual, similar to the Gen Z Soulmate Phenomenon."

She answered the call.

"Ambrosia Momo Pei!" Her best friend squealed through the phone and Amber had to pull it away from her ear with a wince at the scratchy pitch. "How did it go? Do I need to call the police? Are you in trouble?" She hummed in thought. "Let me guess, he came in three seconds flat?"

"Did you have to use my full name?" Amber sighed, rubbing her temples and shivering inwardly with disgust. "You know I hate it."

Translation: Ambrosia Peach Pei.

It was a nod towards the peach of immortality in Chinese mythology, the food of the Gods. Honestly? If one believed in the notion that the name of a person controlled their fate, her parents just wanted her to get eaten.

Amber pulled a face at the thought.

They wanted her to be devoured and feasted on by the elite. Or perhaps, if you spoke Chinese and understood the kinky meaning behind 'getting eaten', they wanted her to be lusted after and ravished by the Gods.

Amber was simply the product of another couple's attempt to name their child something unique instead of the usual, common names that would escape the countless teasing from her peers at school.

"To date, there have been thousands of cases worldwide. The most famous case being the Mattner brothers, three famous Hollywood actors who have recently married their 26-year-old Vietnamese soulmate."

She was momentarily distracted from the call by the newscaster. Her eyes flickering up to listen to him and then back to the screen of her phone. Multi-tasking was in her blood after all.

"I like your name, it's cute." Miri said.

Her voice was sweet, airy, light and pretty to Amber's ears. It was the kind of voice you would expect to hear from a shy little girl who dressed in pink and pastel and enjoyed cute adorable things. But stereotypes were always a little too far off from reality and her best friend was nothing like that.

Her BFF, with her rusty red hair and indigo eyes—features from her Scottish father—was a long-legged gamine that had a fashion style which emulated a teenage boy's.

"You're supposed to say that as my best friend." Amber said in a deadpan voice. Miri simply gave her a soft snort of laughter as her reply.

This was their eighth year as best friends. 

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