(Kimberly's POV)
"Okay, okay," I muttered to myself, clutching the paper like it was a lifeline. "This... this has to be a mistake. No way we both match with Christopher Vance."
Patricia's face was ghostly pale, and for once, she wasn't talking. That was new.
"Patricia? Say something!" I shook her arm, snapping her out of her daze.
She blinked rapidly, her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to find the right words.
"This... this can't be happening, Kim. This is Christopher Vance. The son of Paul, the Great Ruler. The billionaire amongst billionaires. The guy who's basically untouchable," Patricia said, her voice cracking.
"I know! I'm seeing the same thing." My stomach flipped, like it was trying to crawl out of my body. "This has to be a sick joke. A test, or maybe an error in the system, right? We can't just be... matched with him. We have to do something about this."
I looked down at the paper again, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.
"Match Found: Christopher Vance."
Both of us had the same name staring back at us. Same match. Same impossible match.
Patricia grabbed my hand, her fingers digging into my skin as her eyes widened. "We need to get to the headquarters. Now."
"What? Headquarters?" I blinked, the words slow to register.
"You're not serious," I said, still in shock. "The Couple Matching headquarters? Are you insane?"
"Yes! We're going to tell them that this is a mistake! This can't be right, Kim! We both can't be matched to him." Her voice was sharp, but I could hear the desperation creeping through.
"We'll never get close enough. The place is cold, and I doubt anyone would listen to us," I pointed out.
"That's the whole point! We don't have to care about that," Patricia snapped, her eyes lighting up. "We're going straight to the source. If this is some twisted game, we'll expose it right there."
I thought about it for a second, then nodded. "Alright, alright. We have to try. But if they say no… we're going to have some serious problems."
Patricia didn't even hesitate. "Then we make them listen."
I was still trying to process everything, but her determination was enough to snap me out of my confusion.
"Okay. Let's do it."
We jumped to our feet, grabbing our bags and slipping into our shoes, barely taking a second to catch our breath. The air around us felt thicker, like it was pressing in on me from all sides.
The sound of my heartbeat was louder than usual—racing, beating a frantic rhythm in my chest.
We didn't waste any time. Less than forty minutes later, we were standing in front of the Couple Matching headquarters.
I could barely feel my feet as we stormed inside. The moment we stepped through the glass doors, the air changed. Everything about the place screamed power, white floors, towering walls of metal, and security cameras tracking our every move. But none of that mattered right now.
"We need to speak to someone," Patricia announced the second we reached the front desk.
The receptionist, a woman with stiff blonde hair and a bored expression, barely spared us a glance. "Do you have an appointment?"
Patricia slammed her hands onto the counter. "No, but this is urgent. There's been a mistake. We need to talk to whoever is in charge."
The woman finally looked up, giving us both a once-over. I didn't blame her for the disgust in her eyes. We had run here straight from my house, barely brushing our hair, no makeup, and in our house clothes. We probably looked like we had just escaped from a zoo.
The receptionist's lips curled. "Mistakes don't happen in the compatibility system," she said, enunciating each word like we were slow. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."
"Listen, lady, we're not leaving until someone fixes this!" Patricia snapped.
The receptionist sighed and pressed something under the desk. Before I could react, two security guards appeared behind us, large and imposing in their black uniforms.
"Get these two out of here," the receptionist ordered, already looking back at her paperwork.
One of the guards grabbed my arm. "Let's go, troublemaker."
"No! Wait!" I struggled, but he was strong. "Just listen to us! This is serious!"
"You have no idea what's coming," Patricia muttered under her breath, her feet dragging against the polished floor.
And then, as if possessed, she suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs;
"MY MATCH IS CHRISTOPHER VANCE!"
The entire lobby went silent.
The security guards froze. The receptionist's pen slipped from her fingers. Conversations around us came to an abrupt stop as heads turned in our direction.
"You what?" one of the guards asked, his grip loosening.
Patricia's chest heaved. "I matched with Christopher Vance. Hundred percent!"
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Then, out of nowhere, someone scoffed.
"You're a liar," a man sneered, stepping forward. He wore a pristine suit, his sharp eyes filled with accusation. "That's fabricated. No commoner would ever match with Christopher Vance."
Patricia clenched her fists. "No, listen! It's true!" She turned to me. "Tell them, Kim!"
I hesitated. My mouth felt dry. But then, I forced myself to step forward.
"It's even worse," I said. "I also matched 100% with Christopher Vance."
The man's face twisted with fury.
"Shut up!" he bellowed. "That can never happen! Take them to the prison cells for blasphemy!"
The guards snapped out of their shock and tightened their grips on us.
"No, wait!" Patricia yelled, kicking at the air. "Just check the records! You'll see."
"Shut them up!" the man ordered.
I tried to fight, tried to force the words out, but it was useless. The guards overpowered us easily, dragging us toward the dark hallway leading to the holding cells.
As we were pulled away, I caught one last glimpse of the front desk. People were whispering and laughing at us like we were criminals.
Suddenly, the news broke out.
"We interrupt this program to bring you good news. We are happy to announce that the son of Paul, the Great Ruler, has finally gotten his compatibility results. As tradition for many years, the heir only finds out what's in the result in front of the public."
People started screaming and shouting happily, as they all knew a feast would follow for celebrations.
"We encourage people to gather at the Rounder to share this moment with Christopher Vance. Thank you"
This announcement could be heard from every corner of the city. Even we, who were thrown in the cells underground, could hear exactly what was said.
We sat down on the dirty floor, soulless.
"What are we going to do now?" Patricia asked.
"I don't know. Maybe we just wait till they announce it. Then they would believe us," I replied.
"I hope so. No low-class person has ever matched with Christopher," Patricia pointed out.
"Exactly! For generations, their family always matched with high-profile families, and they never got a hundred percent. I mean... no one has ever gotten a hundred percent," I emphasized.
"That's one thing... no one has ever been matched with two people. NO ONE!"
"Geez! Life just hit us with shit," Patricia said angrily, hitting her leg on the cell bars.
"Ouch! Ouch!" she screamed, hopping on one leg.
I burst into laughter. So did she. Patricia always had a way of lightening the mood, both intentionally and unintentionally.
"What do you mean they both matched with my son?" An elderly woman's voice echoed close by.
We stopped laughing. We froze, trying to listen better.
"We will have them killed publicly as examples for those who try to mock the system," she added.
Our eyes went wide open.
"WHAT?"