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Chapter 7 - We’re Soulmates Michelle

The bell rang and after that, students were rushing towards the lunch break like crazy.

Some were bringing food from home, while others were eating the meals the school provided for students.

Students would gather in the cafeteria and everyone would enjoy the one-hour lunch break to the fullest.

It wasn't any different for Brian and Michelle, who were two very close friends.

"Eat shit," said Brian. "Don't they feed you at home? Eat slower, for fuck's sake," he said and started laughing.

"Shut uup," said Michelle, barely.

She was eating like she had just come out of a famine — like a student from Africa who had walked 15 kilometers to get to school and hadn't eaten anything until the lunch break.

After she barely managed to swallow her food,

"Idiot," she said, took a sip from her Coke and added,

"I'm nervous, nervous as fuck, you dumbass. That's why I'm in such a rush."

"What happened, what's wrong?" Brian asked.

"You know last time I went to the cinema with my parents, right? That day… I took 50 dollars from my mom's wallet to buy Theo a birthday gift."

"You took it or you stole it?" Brian said.

"Shut up and just listen. Anyway, we went in, watched the movie, got out, had food, came back home… I checked my pocket, and boom — 50 dollars was gone. I had dropped it. I couldn't even buy a gift, and now I don't know what I'm gonna do next week on his birthday."

"Here, dude, I've got 15 dollars."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with 15 dollars, Brian? Stick it up my ass? I need more than that — I need 100, I need 500, I need 5 fucking thousand, ughhhhhh."

"Fine, don't take it. Guess I'm the idiot for trying to help."

Michelle, unable to buy a gift for her boyfriend's birthday, was deep in thought.

Theo had bought her a $300 necklace for her last birthday.

Even though it didn't have to be that expensive, she didn't want to be the one who came up short.

Sure, these things might not mean much to men — but for women, they're everything.

Love, friendship, and family. Men could choose these three over money.

If he truly loves, a man doesn't give a shit about money — he looks after his love, his friends, his family.

Of course, not all men.

But for some women, money is a must.

They wouldn't want to marry a man who's financially weak, because they want to live comfortably, without working.

Maybe that made sense in the past — because women used to work seriously hard at home.

To wash clothes, they'd walk kilometers and scrub stains in river water for hours, then carry the heavy wet clothes back home and start cooking after that.

Still, they weren't respected.

Their husband would come home, speak harshly, some would beat them, some would actually be kind —

but now?

Even though what women do is still not easy,

they'd have to admit — it's not as hard as it used to be.

That's why money matters.

Because everyone wants to live comfortably — especially women.

They want to look pretty, to show off,

and more than impressing men, they want to impress other women.

They love being talked about.

Who wouldn't want to walk into a café or bar and hear,

"Damn, look at that girl's necklace. Looks expensive as hell."

That's why men live for women —

and women live for other women.

Michelle was still thinking hard, when she saw her philosophy teacher.

Michelle's philosophy teacher was Mr. Desmond Elliot.

He always kept good and sincere relationships with his students, and he was one of the well-liked teachers in school — but that was it.

Students would come, ask questions about class, and leave.

No one really cared how he was doing.

Why should they, anyway?

A teacher's job is to teach you the subject and life — what else could it be?

Could a person really be such a piece of shit, such a pervert, that he'd fall in love and become obsessed with a student much younger than him?

"Hello Mr. Elliot, how are you?"

Before Mr. Elliot could even respond, Michelle said,

"Thank you sir, I'm good too," quickly brushing him off.

Truth was, she didn't want to talk at all — but she had a plan.

"So, you want to become a philosopher, huh?"

"Yes sir. The way a man like you — so smart and so handsome — teaches so passionately really pulled me into the subject. What do you think I should do to become a good philosopher?"

"Hmm. What kind of philosopher do you want to be? There are many types of philosophy."

"I don't know, sir. I guess I need to think about it."

Michelle kept the conversation going.

They had been talking for a while now, but she was about to explode inside — she hated philosophy.

She was just playing along for the chance to get some money.

She had one week.

If she could get ten dollars a day, and save thirty from her own allowance, she could buy a really nice gift.

She couldn't ask her mom — her dad wasn't around, and she lived with her mom.

Her mom didn't support her relationship with Theo and had already noticed that Michelle had stolen the money,

so she would never give her any.

Sure, she had money — if Michelle asked, she'd probably give 50 or even 500.

But not if she stole it.

As lunch break neared its end, Michelle said,

"Mr. Elliot, don't you think Plato was wrong when he said love isn't physical?"

Mr. Elliot froze.

He really believed Michelle was genuinely interested in philosophy.

He started explaining.

After years of being alone since his wife died, this was the first time he had talked to someone so long and so closely.

Michelle had skipped the rest of her classes and was fully focused on the money talk now.

But she didn't have her eyes on just ten dollars —

after hours of boring talk with this dry old man, ten bucks wasn't going to cut it.

"That's why I decided to become a philosopher," said Mr. Elliot,

and made a ridiculous conductor motion with his hand, then laughed to himself.

He really was a boring man.

"What the hell is this guy doing? Talking nonsense and making stupid hand gestures, ughhhh."

Michelle thought to herself, and then forced a smile.

"You really have a great way of explaining things, Desmond.

Oops — look at that, I accidentally called you by your first name."

"Haha, it's no problem. You can always call me that," he said,

and made the conductor motion again.

Michelle rolled her eyes and said,

"I gotta go Desmond. They're waiting for me at home."

Then she winked.

This went on for a whole week.

They talked every day.

Michelle sometimes skipped class and tried to tolerate the boredom for the money.

The big day had come — it was time to squeeze the cash.

Michelle had planned to ask for a loan she'd never pay back.

After getting it, she'd cut off all contact.

But something better happened.

Desmond invited Michelle to his house.

Michelle, after entering the house with Desmond, continued the conversation — but she couldn't believe how disgusting this man's home was.

It was literally a garbage dump.

There were papers all over the place with scribbled notes on them, and used wet tissues scattered around the floor, filled with god-knows-what.

"What a filthy piece of shit. How the fuck can anyone live here?" she thought to herself,

waiting for Desmond to go to the bathroom.

Then, she started snooping around the house.

But there was nothing good — the house was a fucking mess and no valuable items were visible between the piles of crap.

She was disappointed.

She had been fake-flirting with this boring, creepy dude for a whole week, and now there was nothing to gain.

She couldn't go back either — not after coming this far.

Where else would she find money now?

There were plenty of ways, sure… but since she came up with this dumb plan a week ago, she hadn't tried any of them.

She had truly believed this teacher would have money.

But turns out, the guy was in an even worse financial state than her.

As Michelle turned her back and kept looking around,

Desmond came out of the bathroom and suddenly wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"We've both been waiting for this moment all week, haven't we, sweetheart?" he said.

Michelle was terrified inside, and stepped away.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she snapped.

When Desmond replied with "I don't understand,"

Michelle turned away and walked toward the door —

but Desmond stepped in front of her.

"Please wait — what happened? Don't go anywhere, let's talk."

But Michelle was done.

"Fuck this money. There's no fucking way I'm sleeping with this guy for money. Fuck the plan," she thought,

then said out loud,

"Get out of my way, Desmond. I'm warning you for the last time."

"You are the meaning of my life — I know, I rushed it. I should've let things flow naturally, but I couldn't.

I couldn't stop desiring you.

Please come back, let's try again," he said,

then once again made that gross fucking conductor motion with his hand.

Then he pushed up his glasses, which were hanging off his nose, using his middle finger.

"Desmond, move or I'll scream."

Desmond, though upset, stepped aside.

But he thought the real reason Michelle left was because he had ruined the mood —

he had no idea what was actually going on.

The next day, Desmond kept trying to talk to Michelle at school.

But she was already being crushed by other shit.

She hadn't been able to get her boyfriend a gift.

And she was getting passive-aggressive crap from Theo too:

"I got you something. Why didn't you get me anything? You broke or something?"

Now, on top of all that, she couldn't deal with Desmond.

Since smoking was forbidden at school, Michelle secretly went to the fire escape to smoke —

unaware that Desmond was following her.

He suddenly burst into the stairwell and said:

"My love, how long are you gonna keep running? I know this is just the fire and spice of a relationship. Come on, let's talk. Let's fix this. I'm sorry."

Michelle lost it.

"MY LOVE? MY FUCKING LOVE? Do you hear yourself, you sick piece of shit? I'm your student. You actually liked me? You fucking perverted psycho bastard!"

Desmond froze.

"Our souls are in love, Michelle. This isn't something we're meant to stop. It's not our place,"

he said, then grabbed her by the arms.

"Haha, there's no need to get so mad, baby. Even if we can't fix this, our souls will find a way,"

he said as he leaned in to kiss her.

But Michelle screamed with all her might.

The first person to find them was Mr. Watson, the school janitor.

He immediately pulled Michelle away and took her straight to the principal's office,

where she reported Desmond Elliot.

Because of the accusations made against him,

Desmond was sentenced to 5 years in prison.

He was never seen around again after that day.

"So you were the masked man all this time… you fucking pervert," said Michelle.

"Who the fuck is this?" Brian asked.

When Michelle reminded him of the whole situation, it finally hit Brian.

He turned his back to Desmond — and smashed a punch straight into his face.

"You sick son of a bitch. How dare you scare my pregnant girlfriend?

Where does this sick urge come from? This desire?

What kind of human does this shit to another human?" Brian screamed.

"The kind that's looking for his soulmate," Desmond replied.

"While I was inside… I dreamed of this moment for years — this reunion.

And now it's finally happened.

I've brought my soul back to where it belongs — to its match," he said.

Hearing this, Brian completely lost control and started punching Desmond nonstop.

Michelle stood there watching.

Tyler tried to intervene, but Michelle yelled at him too.

She was actually enjoying it.

She was shocked too.

Years ago, she had faked interest in this man over fifty fucking dollars —

and now here he was, believing he had been loved all along.

"You," said Desmond. "You were the one who stood in the way of our love."

"What gave you the right to stand between two souls who were meant to unite?" he added.

"Fuck your soul," Brian said.

"She was fifteen when you were forty, you fucking pedophile piece of shit.

How the fuck can you call that love?

Fuck your soul."

"When I looked into her eyes, I didn't see a young girl…

I saw what Plato spoke of — the 'idea'.

I saw love in human form.

I saw the missing piece of my soul," Desmond said.

Michelle walked slowly toward Desmond.

She leaned down toward his face.

"What kind of human being are you, Desmond?

Did you think I was in love with you just because I was nice?

I never loved you.

How could I ever love a filthy man like you,

a lunatic obsessed with fucking 'souls'?!"

She said it with her last breath, then turned around, placed her hand on her waist, and tried to catch her breath.

Desmond didn't believe it.

"I know you're scared. Maybe even still mad at me…

but Michelle, I thought about you every single day during those five years.

And I know you thought about me too.

Because our souls were together that whole time — I know you felt it too.

I wanted to show up at your door as Desmond…

But then I saw you sitting on those steps,

telling him you were pregnant —

so I just went back to what I was already doing…

'Mr. Nobody.'

I continued the mission.

I was going to eliminate Brian right in front of your eyes and prove my love.

Then we would finally be together and happy.

But that day, you didn't come in.

You walked away.

If you had walked through that door…

we'd be sipping our coffee together right now."

Brian was frozen. He had stopped punching — he was just standing there in total shock.

He stared at Desmond, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

"How can someone be this obsessed?

How can a person assign so much meaning to things that are completely meaningless?"

he thought.

He looked over at Michelle.

She was just as confused.

They were both staring at each other, trying to wrap their heads around the shit Desmond was saying.

He was absolutely insane —

this man had been stalking them for weeks and genuinely believed he was right.

"Desmond, I'm going to explain this in a way even you can understand," Michelle said.

She knelt in front of Desmond and held his hands.

"What happened between us… it wasn't real.

I just wanted to—"

Before she could finish, Desmond cut her off.

"No, no, no, no, I don't believe you! I don't believe you!"

"You have to believe—"

"NO! NO! NOOO!!

What are you afraid of, Michelle?

That I'll hurt you?

I would never.

Who would ever hurt the person they love?"

Brian grabbed Desmond by the neck and threw him backward.

"You say you'd never hurt her — this woman hasn't slept in a week because of you!

She's been drowning in fear —

and our baby almost died because of the stress you caused.

WE almost lost our baby.

All because of your delusional bullshit fantasy world.

You soul-obsessed freak of a motherfucker!"

Brian pressed his knee to Desmond's chest and started punching him hard.

He threw punch after punch, pouring out all the fear and rage he had built up for weeks.

It was finally over.

The masked man had been caught.

The team had already called the police.

Desmond was arrested.

And this time — he probably wouldn't ever get out again.

Michelle and Brian thanked Tyler deeply.

There weren't many people who would risk their lives like that.

Tyler was Brian's cousin — they grew up together, threw their first punches together, went through hell together.

Now, they had done something good together for the first time.

They had locked up a killer, a freak, a fucking psychopath.

That night, Brian was working late —

trying to finish a project with his coworkers.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

At first, he ignored it.

He just wanted to wrap things up and go home.

But the unknown number kept calling.

Finally, he picked up in frustration:

"What the fuck do you want?! Why the hell are you calling me at this hour?!"

"Hello, am I speaking with Brian Easton?"

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Sir, I'm calling from UCLA Medical Center.

Are you the husband of Michelle Flores?"

"No, I'm her boyfriend. What's going on?

What happened?

Why the hell are you calling from a hospital?

Answer me!"

"Sir, we need you to come in.

Your girlfriend…

is currently in labor."

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