Bits and pieces of the vacuum were laying on the floor and on the table. I swear the girls leave more hair on the floor than they do on their heads. If I didn’t get it working again I’d have to buy a new one, and I barely had enough to pay Uncle rent.
Uncle came in, distracted by his phone, and I bit my lip against asking about a new one. He’d want to know why I couldn’t afford it and I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t risk him going into my room and finding the receipt for a suit rental.
I was old enough to decide on my own if I was going to a Ball or not. Uncle couldn’t stop me, but I didn’t want to borrow trouble.
I’d never been afraid of my uncle, and I wasn’t then, but there was a looming sense of unease I was unfamiliar with. I thought it had to do with the suit; that was defying my uncle in a way I never had before. I’d always rebelled by not doing what he said; now I was actively doing what he said not to.
Then I realized the phone he had wasn’t his.
“Anything you want to discuss?” he asked.
My mind seemed to go blank for a moment as I thought through all the things on my phone. For a moment I couldn’t even remember what the background was. The device was my lifeline sometimes, but I was careful with it. I’d left it charging just before I started taking the vacuum apart.
“The girls went out to buy dresses?” I signed, wondering for a moment if they’d texted me.
But, of course, he’d never bothered to learn my language. He didn’t understand. “I’m going to assume that’s a yes, and you’re going to tell me who, exactly, this partial match is and why you never bothered to mention her.”
Oh. The forums. He must have seen my email, must be in there reading their responses. For a moment I felt relief that I said no to an electronic receipt for my suit, but then I realized he was asking after my maybe-soulmate.
Uncle wasn’t dangerous, not really. His cruelty was more because he didn’t understand than a need to hurt. But when he tossed me the paper and pen I knew I couldn’t give him her name. It was more than the fact that I didn’t know it; he’d know who she was if I described her. I’d never make it to the Ball, and I’d never work at Redbird’s again. His hatred of matches would ensure I never met her properly.
“I saw her on the bus,” I lied, willing my hand steady. The words trembled across the page anyways. “She sat next to me for a bit.”
Uncle looked skeptical. “And how were you going to meet her again?”
“If I wait at the bus stop-”
“No,” Uncle said, grabbing the pen as I wrote. “From now on, no more buses. Either you ride with me or you get a bike. Walk if you have to. Understood?”
I couldn’t afford a bike, and we didn’t have a garage to store it. And even if we did, the distance -
“Understood?”
I nodded.
“Where are the girls?”
“Out looking for dresses,” I wrote.
“Good.” He dropped my phone on the table. “Bottom line? This is my house, and my rules. By the time they get home you’ll have that login deleted and all thoughts of matches removed from your fool head - or you’ll be moving out. Am I clear?”
I nodded, but reached for the pad of paper. He scowled as I wrote, tapping his foot on the floor. “If you hate soulmates so much, why work for Prince?”
“None of your business,” Uncle snapped, rolling his eyes. “Look at this mess - breaking vacuums now, I see. I sent your resignation in to Redbird’s already. You’ll be taking over a shift at the bar, where no one will care if they can’t hear you over the music. The only downside is that they insisted you start tomorrow - during the mock ball. They’re short a staff member and need someone to cover. A trial shift, to see if you can handle it. You’d better handle it.”
I’d liked working at Redbird’s. It was a bit embarrassing when he thought I was poor and I couldn’t correct him - scratch that, it was a lot embarrassing when that happened - but the warm smells you could taste the moment you walked in were comforting, like momma’s hugs.
“I’ve already filed the necessary paperwork. Your name is Viktor now, by the way. Answer to it.”
I nodded again, feeling like a bobblehead doll, and began reassembling the cleaner. This - this changed a lot. I wouldn’t be able to sneak out to the Ball anymore, but I was going to be there. As the hired help. No one looked at them twice. And I had a suit that would go to waste since I had to be in uniform.
Could I sneak some time to myself during the party? I’d likely get fired for it.
“Are you listening?” Uncle snapped. “If you dare even think of interfering with the girls’ chances of getting paired, I will skin you alive. This is their night to shine, not yours. Now get off those damn forums, get your head out of the clouds, and clean up this mess.”
I was already reassembling, which wasn’t what he meant but it was what I could do. I needed time to think. How could I stay on the forums and still let Uncle believe I’d deleted my profile? How could I be at the ball as both an employee and a guest?
Would my partial match recognize me? Try to complete first words without knowing we already had?
And what would I tell the girls?
I was too old for this. I wasn’t in High School anymore. Balls shouldn’t be this stressful. That was supposed to disappear after graduation. The movies got it wrong, and the books weren’t much better. All the nerves had done was shift, not disappear.
It was what it was. I had to deal with it.
As Viktor.
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