I deliberated for several breaths, allowing my thoughts to naturally come. Unlike all the other times I had answered him, this answer was important to me. I didn’t want to articulate it in haste. I wanted to answer him succinctly and clearly because it was the very reason why I chose death over eternity. I wanted him to understand exactly why I chose to reject his offer.
I inhaled deeply, parted my lips, and revealed my reasoning. “It’s comforting to wake up and know that my time here is limited.”
He looked at me with great interest. Though he tried not to show it, I knew that Eclipse was utterly enraptured. His silence encouraged me to forge on with my explanation.
“If I had an eternity to live, then I would feel trapped. If I only had a lifetime, I’d feel gifted. I would appreciate every moment given to me because I know that I would never have them again. There’s a comforting fact in knowing that you’re part of an established cycle of life. We’re all born to live, to experience the motions of life. And when it all comes to pass, we’ll all experience the kiss of death when our time comes.” I smiled faintly. “I feel calmed by this fact. To live is to experience death; to experience death is to truly live. Every human goes through it, and for me, dying when my time comes will make me feel like I was finally part of a world I couldn’t fit into when I was alive. Dying when I’m supposed to die will no longer make me an outcast. As a result, I will no longer be different from everyone else.”
“It’d finally make you human,” Eclipse concluded for me, his eyes glowing as if completely enlightened by my answer.
I nodded proudly.
That was the reason why I chose death . . . because I wanted to be human.
At my confirmation, Eclipse laughed incredulously. “You are choosing death so that you’d finally feel like you’re human? Doesn’t that sound a bit extreme?”
“I don’t think it’s extreme,” I told him truthfully. “I was scared in the beginning, but the more I pondered over it, the more I realized that I didn’t fear death. The truth is: I don’t think people truly fear death. They just fear the unknown. They fear the prospect of how they will die, and the majority of the time, they fear losing the people they love. Most of all, I think they all fear the pain it will bring to the loved ones they will leave behind.”
Before I could curb the impulse, a sad smile slid across my lips.
“I don’t have that problem though. As you said, I have no family and no real friends. I have no one I care enough about to give up my life for. My death will be slow and natural, so I don’t think I’m afraid of that anymore because it sounds peaceful in a screwed up way. I guess that’s why I don’t dread death so much. I won’t die in some painful, excruciating way where I’m being murdered or something. I’m also not leaving anyone I care about behind. So in truth, aside from the fear of the unknown, I fear nothing else that comes with death. I basically have nothing to lose.”
“But what if that irrational wish of yours comes true and you were able to find someone to love?”
I went quiet, surprised that Mr. “I-don’t-believe-in-love” actually brought up the hypothetical (and highly improbable) situation where I would actually find someone who I would love more than I loved myself.
I beamed at the thought though, no matter how improbable and impossible it was. “Then I would finally become human while I’m alive, and what more could you ask for in a mere lifetime?”
A chuckle escaped him. He sighed to himself, not believing that he was having such a naïve conversation. Then, long seconds later, he did something that left me amazed.
“Good luck then, Gracie,” he whispered with fatigued resignation before handing me something.
I lowered my gaze. Amazement kissed my eyes when I stared down at the stunning blue rose he extended to me. Hesitantly, I grabbed the blue rose from his hand. I held it up, examined it under the moonlight, and felt my heart palpitate uncontrollably at the beauty emanating from it. It looked unnatural and completely breathtaking.
I looked at him, curiosity embedded on my visage. “What’s this for?”
“An appropriate gift for the endeavor you are foolishly lusting after,” Eclipse answered with a warm expression. “Someone like you isn’t conditioned to be able to love someone because it will always be in your nature to be sadistic, to never truly experience human emotions.” He appraised me with doting and kind eyes. “So with that reality in mind, good luck with finding that special someone who could give you that moment to last you for the rest of your lifetime, to make you feel human before your end comes, Teacup.”
It should have been mocking because that was how it sounded. However, judging by the way Eclipse said this (and the genuine authenticity in his eyes), I knew he truly meant it. He truly wished me luck because he knew all too well that this was an impossible task that I would only be given the opportunity to seek, not to obtain.
“Until then,” he mused with a devilish smile making a home on those decadent lips. “You’re going to have to deal with an immortal Prince who is hell-bent on turning you into a Demon. I don’t know about you, but my endeavor sounds more fun than yours.”
To make his point, a cookies-and-cream ice cream cone—my favorite ice cream—appeared in my hand as well as in his own hand. He grinned, raising his ice cream cone. “Here’s to an eternity.”
Disregarding my diet in the face of a surprisingly philosophical night with my very own Demon, I laughed freely and raised my ice cream cone to meet his. “Here’s to the end of forever.”
Eclipse smirked with amusement, his eyes staring deep into mine. “Good luck with not becoming a Demon, human girl.”
I smiled with my own amusement, never taking my gaze off his. “Good luck with not becoming a human, demonic being.”
Laughing quietly at one another, we respectfully toasted to each other’s words. For that intoxicated night, I allowed myself to indulge in something I would have never allowed myself: I permitted myself to freely enjoy Eclipse’s company.
It could not hurt to have fun with him—if only temporarily.
While eating, a small part of me could sense the storm clouds coming in. Soft rumbles of thunder generated from the Heavens above as Eclipse and I continued to sit there in silence, an appropriate prelude for all that was ahead of me.
For that particular night with Eclipse, I may have decided my fate and accepted death as my companion, but in less than twenty-four hours, I would come to find that fate and destiny were resilient creatures. They do not bend at the will of humans, and they certainly do not bow down to my demands, especially when they had such big plans for me.
There was something big brewing in my life, and soon, the tranquility I had been gifted with would finally meet its formidable opposition. There was a big reason why Eclipse—the Devil’s youngest son—would risk his entire existence to obtain my soul. In the coming days, I would finally discover the source of his motivation.
The grand stage of my life had been set, and come tomorrow, I was expected to fatefully perform on it.
"And when the beginning of it all is found . . ."
23: Fate
Every human being is said to be born with the ability to make choices.
We are born with the ability to analytically assess the given roads in our lives and make the best decision we can in terms of where each road will lead. In the realm pertaining to fate and destiny, fate is when life urges you towards certain events in your life, while destiny is when said events are unavoidable no matter how many detours you attempt to take. Finally, there is the third option that has been gifted to us since the dawn of time: freewill—the ability to make the decision to fight fate and destiny when we feel that we have been left without options.
The one misconception about freewill is that we can use it anytime we want in relation to our defiance against fate and destiny.
Freewill can be employed daily, yes, but when you are going to war against an already written destiny, there are only several moments in
life where you can actually use this gift to change the course of your life forever. These windows of opportunity are low in number, rare in existence, and almost damn near impossible to detect when faced with the chaos that is your life. Your only hope is that you are knowledgeable enough to use your instincts to make the right decision when that elusive and opportune time comes; your only hope is for that fickle thing we call luck to be on your side when the juncture arises and you are forced to make a decision that can redefine your life forever—or simply give you the illusion that you’ve changed your fate, when in truth, you are merely heading in the very direction that has already been preordained for you.
For myself, I was entranced by the naïve illusion that I had freewill. I was also under the more moronic illusion that having freewill meant that fate and destiny would bend to my defiance and adhere to my will—the strong desire to keep my soul and continue to be human, regardless of the temptation of eternal life. I thought I had it all figured out. Unfortunately, the authoritative hands of fate were about to show me how insignificant my will was in regards to all the plans that life had already written out for me . . .
Throughout the night and well into the next morning, I kept telling myself that Eclipse’s presence was merely temporary. I assured myself that once he finally got bored, he would leave me alone and allow me to return to the normalcy of my life. I kept reminding myself that Eclipse wasn’t my reality—that my reality was the life before Eclipse: the solitary life of a graduating college student.
I never allowed myself to stray far from that reminder, but after our heartfelt and unfiltered conversation on top of the high-rise building the night prior, I found myself wavering from my previous stance.
All of a sudden, I couldn’t get the Demon, who had made himself an immovable fixture in my life, out of my mind. I couldn’t even concentrate in class because my mind kept wandering back to him. It got so scandalous that I even did something I had never done: I actually started counting down the minutes until class was over so that I could hang out with him again! He was slowly turning me into a slacker. That was how much he had immersed himself into my life—that was how much I had grown used to him.
It was a scary yet simultaneously consoling thought. Scary that I was actually getting used to the Demon of Lust being constantly by my side and consoling because, despite all the apprehensiveness I had about him, I was beginning to feel like I had found my first real friend in this world. Not a friend who I constantly had to lie to, but a friend who knew my deepest, darkest secrets and still accepted me for me. A friend who would not turn away from me in disgust, a friend who would not judge me because I was different, but a friend who was truly a friend.
It was only after I came to that scandalous thought that I registered how dumb it sounded.
Friend?
A Demon?
I didn’t have to go to church every week to grasp how preposterous that notion was.
Eclipse wasn’t a friend; he was a business-minded Demon whose main goal was to obtain my soul for his own selfish benefit. He was far from a friend, and I was appalled at myself for giving him such a dangerous label.
I inwardly shook my head at the idiocy of my own thoughts. I couldn’t believe I allowed myself to get this way. With my priorities back in order, I forced myself out of my thoughts about Eclipse and delved back into the reality that was my life—college, homework, studying, and paying attention in class.
Raising my eyes back up, I focused my attention on my professor and went back to being a studious and good student. And thank God I did too because class was nearly over and my professor was discussing the upcoming major project for the semester.
“. . . For this project, I will be assigning you your partners,” stated my marketing instructor. Professor Pak took a sip from her coffee cup and grabbed a piece of paper from the podium, her graying curls bouncing stiffly over her gray suit. She consulted the paper through her half-moon glasses. “When I call your names, please raise your hand so your partner will know who you are. After which, you can go ahead and meet up with them while I go over the contents of the project . . .”
The pairing occurred as soon as Professor Pak started reading the names from her list. All around me, my classmates were raising their hands, indicating their presence to their respective partners before getting up from their seats and sitting beside one another. Friends who were paired with each other were giddy with excitement while classmates who didn’t know each other managed small talk. The rest of us uncomfortably waited in our seats for our names to be called.
I groaned to myself.
Under typical circumstances, I wouldn’t mind group or partner projects because even though I was an antisocial person at heart, outwardly, I was a good actress. I had an acceptable amount of charm to get along with anyone I had to work with. Sadly, I greatly dreaded this project because a certain Demon had put a hex on my grades.
After leaving the high-rise building and returning home last night, I made an effort to use our bonding moment to my advantage by attempting to negotiate the terms of my grading-hex with Eclipse. I thought I would be able to sweet-talk him into going easy on me. To my disappointment, the cunning Demon proved to be difficult to bargain with. No matter how much I argued with him, he wouldn’t budge until I agreed to give him my soul.
It was only after I threatened to give him the silent treatment that he bitterly relinquished a bit of his stubbornness. He assured me that he would be nice and raise my cap ceiling up, meaning that the highest grade I’d get would be a C, and that was dependent on the fact that I actually studied and I got an A for the particular assignment. Although I was not happy, I grumpily accepted the pitiful bargain I was given because I knew Eclipse was not a Demon to screw with. I was afraid if I kept pushing him, he’d revert back to giving me F’s.
Now, as I sat in class and waited for my name to be called, I felt terrible for whoever was unlucky enough to be my partner. I nervously chewed my bottom lip. As entertaining as it would be for my sadism, I hated the idea of having to drag someone else’s grade down with me.
“Grace Hwang,” Professor Pak finally called out, jarring me from my web of thoughts.
I raised my hand and smiled meekly. Guilt skittered like spiders in my stomach while anxiety spilled over me. I waited nervously to find out who my unlucky partner would be.
“You will be working with . . . Shin Jang.”
I fiddled with my pen and craned my neck. My eyes charted the descending rows below me to detect a possible indication as to who my partner was. Partners were talking and laughing with each other while my other classmates were still facing the professor, waiting for their names to be called. I could see everything but an indication of who my partner was—or if my partner was even in class today.
My brows furrowed in bemusement. Was my partner even here?
“Here,” a low, male voice uttered from the side.
I turned to my left, casting my gaze towards the other end of the room. I saw a guy with a white hoodie, gesturing a nonchalant wave of his hand towards me. No wonder I didn’t see him—it turned out we were both sitting in the last row. I waited for him to approach me. When I saw that he made no effort to move over to where I sat, I, being the pushover and people-pleaser that I was, smiled at him and productively began to gather my things. I stacked my notebooks and books together before hastily throwing my bag over my shoulder. I hurried next to him, the hem of my pink dress fluttering around my thighs as Professor Pak continued to call out the remaining names.
“Hi,” I said briskly, sliding into the empty seat beside him. I capped off my pen and turned to a blank page in my notebook. First things first: exchange contact information.
“Here’s my email address and phone number,” I said, writing the information down. I ripped the piece of paper out and slid it to him. I also made sure to give him a pen and notebook paper as well. “Can you write down yours too?”
He nodded carelessly.
&
nbsp; As if waking up from a nap, he ran a lazy hand through his hair and the hoodie fell off, revealing long black hair that was tied up in a half ponytail. My eyes expanded when I recognized the features of his handsome face.
The guy who stood up for Sony and me at the grocery store . . .
“Hey, haven’t we met before?” I prompted hesitantly, my smile growing slightly brighter once I recognized him. I would normally be a lot shyer in regards to summoning the bravery to ask someone this. I’d usually wait for the other person to recognize me first, but I felt so in awe and excited to be with the kind stranger again.
I had a big smile on my face, but just as quickly, I was beginning to regret being so bold because of his reaction. He gave me a strange look that was a hybrid between “who-the-hell-are-you” and “who-is-this-freaky-girl-the-professor-paired-me-up-with?” He had already written down his contact information, but I could tell he was debating on whether or not he should give it to me. Though he wasn’t my type, he was still good-looking in that rugged, rebel-without-a-cause way; I suspected that he must have had his share of girls who behaved freakishly around him because of his good looks. I hated that I looked like I was one of them. I may have thought he was good-looking, but I wasn’t an obsessed fangirl!
Feeling embarrassed that he didn’t remember me and that he was probably already categorizing me as a stalker, I quickly added, “A few weeks ago or something. At the grocery story in front of all the pumpkins . . .”
I was prepared to go further into detail when his eyes, at long last, lit up with dawning knowledge. A quirk of a knowing smile lined his lips. His dark brown eyes grew warmer at the recollection.
“The pumpkin girl.”
I let out a laugh, relieved that he remembered. I was utterly amused at the nickname he gave me. “Yeah! That was me!”