Fragments of Fate

Prologue June's Point of View "Finn, is the driver here yet?" I rushed through the question to Finn as I sorted out the items I needed for work. Today was packed with tasks! I had so much to take care of at work, and our fashion week event was underway, making me extremely stressed. Finn peeked out of our apartment window to check if the driver I'd hired had arrived to take me to work. I had a bunch of stuff to carry, and commuting wasn't an option. "Not yet, sis," he disappointingly replied. Frustrated, I hung my head back and closed my eyes. "Really? I texted him earlier. Still not here?" I stressed out. Finn shrugged. "I don't know, maybe he's on the way?" He hesitantly replied, attempting to uplift my mood. I scowled. "Whatever. I'll just cancel the booking and find another ride!" I said irritably, canceling the previously arranged ride. Finn came over, trying to calm me down. "Chill, sis. Sorry, I can't drive you either, I have a lot of photoshoots," he explained. "Light is also busy," he added. "It's okay, Finn. I guess I'll just have to take public transport," I said. I gathered my things and prepared to leave, instructing Finn to tidy up the apartment before leaving and lock the doors. "I'll head out first, Finn. See you later. Let me know if you're coming home tonight. Belle will be coming home tonight," I said. Finn nodded and smiled at me. "Sure. I have to go home tonight. I freaking missed that girl and our little Amelia. Tell me if her superhot husband, Uno, will be coming with her," he dreamily said. I kept a poker face. "Geez! Yes, Uno is with her, but hey, stop it. I'll report you to Light," I warned him. He just laughed and shook his head. "Kidding!" he said, winking at me. I sighed and left. Stepping outside, the bustling and crowded streets of New York City immediately greeted me. The New York skyline, a constellation of dreams, glistened like an iridescent painting against the canvas of the cityscape as I navigated through the hustle and bustle of the bustling streets. Each step was a symphony of purpose and determination, an ordinary day in the throes of the city's chaos until fate decided to intercede, spinning a mesmerizing web of chance encounters and unforeseen destinies. Within the hubbub of honking cars and hurried pedestrians, our paths converged—mine and Dos'. His aura was magnetic, effortlessly drawing attention, as if celestial forces conspired to entwine our trajectories. I vividly recall the precise moment our worlds collided, an amalgamation of seemingly incongruous existences. Dos emanated sophistication tinged with an enigmatic allure that ensnared my senses instantly. His eyes held depths of unfathomable mysteries, shrouded behind an effortlessly charming facade. "Oops!" "Oh, I'm sorry!" Hastily, I scrambled to collect my scattered papers and belongings from the accidental collision. Frustration bubbled within me; I was in a rush, with a multitude of tasks awaiting me at Belle Couture, and Belle wasn't in yet—it was just me. Why couldn't this person pay attention to where he was going?! My irritation simmered in the morning heat. "Do you need help with those?" His voice, smooth as silk, cut through my reverie as a stack of papers threatened to escape my grasp. Startled, I glanced up, meeting his intense gaze. "Oh, no, I've got it. Thank you, though." I managed a smile, my heart quickening at the unexpected encounter. Goodness! He's quite handsome. His looks are absolutely captivating. Is he an actor? A model? Because he looks like one. Though, he's kinda familiar. "Are you sure? I'm sorry about the collision." His eyes held an enigmatic depth, a hint of intrigue swirling within them. "Yes, I'm really okay. Thanks again, and yeah, no worries." I hastily gathered the stray papers, but his presence lingered—a magnetic pull I couldn't quite shake off. "A chance meeting, perhaps, but one that feels strangely familiar," he mused, a half-smile playing on his lips, almost as if he sensed the undercurrents of fate. I nervously chuckled, sensing a peculiar connection. "Funny how paths cross in the most unexpected ways," I replied, feeling an unspoken understanding blossoming between us. "Anyway, what's your name? I'm Dos," he introduced himself, extending his hand toward me. "Nice to meet you, Dos. I'm June," I said, about to shake his hand when the papers I was holding almost tumbled again. "Woah. Not again." Quickly, Dos stepped in to assist. We drew closer, exchanging glances. I couldn't help but blink several times; he was exceptionally good-looking. I even caught a whiff of his mentholated breath. I also smelled his perfume which is so manly, and so addictive to smell. I can spend my whole day smelling him. For God's sake, what am I even thinking? Suddenly, my heart began to pound vigorously. "That was a close one," he teased, moving away from me. I laughed awkwardly. "Yeah! So, nice meeting you again, Dos," I said, nervously glancing at him. "Nice meeting you too, June. So, I won't keep you any longer; seems like you're in a hurry too," he commented. I giggled softly, nodding. "Kind of! Well, I'll head on then. Uh, see you around, maybe?" I wondered silently if I'd ever encounter him again. "See you around, June," he said, walking away. I found myself watching Dos' retreating figure. In that brief exchange, an unspoken connection unfolded, weaving an inexplicable bond between strangers in the vast expanse of the city. As Dos melted into the throngs of people, a sense of longing clung to me, an invisible tie weaving our futures in a complex web of uncertainty. Little did I know, that fleeting moment with Dos was just the start. It would set the stage for an intricate dance of love, betrayal, and uncharted paths—a saga with twists that even fate hadn't foreseen. That chance encounter, a mere prologue to a tale of untold depth and unforeseen challenges, marked the threshold of a journey filled with heartbreak and redemption, yet to be unfolded. This is the story of how I met Dos—a tale woven into the very fabric of time, where destinies collide, sparking a chain of events that would rewrite the script of our lives forever. But the real story—the trials and triumphs—is yet to unfold.