The Time It Takes To Fall

Long Lost Prince

USA, 2019 A.D.

The light of the computer burned at Cinder's eyes, but she squinted despite the sting. Her fingers danced across the keys of her ancient laptop that had once been Iko's, but was now hers. She was a woman on a mission, and she would not stop until she found out exactly who Kai Prince was.

Immediately after getting home from her date, Cinder had phoned Iko, telling her all the details of her night with Kai. Iko had been excited at first, exclaiming over every detail; but after some time, she had started to grow suspicious, questioning some of Kai's more quirky characteristics and his motives.

Admittedly, this had caused Cinder to deflate slightly, for she had genuinely enjoyed Kai's company, despite all of his oddities. Sure, he spoke differently than most people, and acted as if he had been born a century too late, but that did not necessarily make him a psycho-murderer-maniac.

Was it completely awful that Cinder had loved spending time with someone who was genuinely interested in her for once? Sure, she had Iko and Thorne, but they never asked her what her favorite color was, or her fondest memory. They cared about keeping her well and out of harm's way; but she couldn't remember a time when either of her friends had asked any questions concerning her dreams. It had been nice for a change.

But Cinder also knew that Iko's intuition was spot on— she could spot a creep from a mile away, and Cinder would not be a fool and ignore her warnings.

So, rather than discounting Iko's suspicions or fully accepting them, she had decided that she needed to find out who Kai Prince truly was.

It was turning out to be harder than she had planned.

Kai's name alone was rather popular, leaving Cinder to search hundreds of Facebook profiles to no avail. As far as she could tell, he wasn't on any social media whatsoever. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised, figuring his old fashion ways and mannerisms, but it was disappointing nonetheless.

She searched other media platforms, and even went so far as to study family trees and public records. Yet nothing gave an explanation to the origin of Kai Prince. Sure, there were hundreds of him scattered throughout the world, some sons of billionaire techies, while others were regular nine to five people. But no one was her Kai Prince.

Well, Cinder chided herself. He wasn't hers.

But there was something about him that felt so surreal and yet so familiar. He had that feel of a long lost friend— someone who had once been known but had long since been forgotten. And yet somehow, she knew that she had never once met that man through the entirety of her lifetime.

She persisted nonetheless, searching for a ghost— a person who existed as people once had: as flesh and blood, living souls without any footprints save for the ones left by their very feet. Kai wasn't a man of the digital age, and while Cinder would have found that to be a rather endearing trait at any other time than the present, she felt annoyed at the lack of information he displayed.

Exhaustion wore on Cinder, as the darkness of the night turned into a soft pink fuzz upon the horizon. She groaned, agitated at her lack of discovered information, but itching to call it quits and finally get some much-needed rest.

The internet had somehow failed her, despite the forty-six million results at her fingertips. Her mystery man was nowhere to be found, and the soft rock that had once played out of her phone had died off hours ago without her even noticing.

She was just about to end her agony while searching through image results, when a picture of an ancient oil painting caught her attention.

Cinder let out a soft gasp as she examined the painting, taking in every feature, trying to find a single flaw— but there was none. For the oil painting looked exactly like Kai. Of course, he was dressed in a finery that resembled ancient asian culture, and his hair was cropped, in a shorter, more professional manner, but aside from that, he was the same. The same angular features that made him so fascinating to look at; the same copper eyes that could stare down into one's soul; the same smile, ever so slightly tainting his lips.