The weather channel predicted light showers this afternoon. It is morning. He will not need an umbrella where he is going.

His brother, a clockwork morning coffee drinker, leans back from his chair before he sets out.

"Are you nervous?" he asks.

"No," comes a reply. "See you later."

Railways and buses are abundant in the city. The world has changed since the Tekniq Era. It is a better place. It is a more convenient place.

Where the tide of the pedestrians takes him does not concern him. Time only matters. He will know he is in the right place when the numbers turn into zeros. He continues to walk until then.

The crowds soon become congested. He slips past the pedestrian traffic and changes his route in a different direction. He remembers there being a park on a rooftop of a conventional building. He goes there.

The light showers start earlier than expected. His hair dampens in the light moisture soaking into his white bangs. There is no one else here on the rooftop save for a lone observer leaning against the railing. His head is turned towards the city below the entire time. That leaves both of them at peace.

The minutes tick by. There are only two minutes left. He takes out his crystal-engraved pocket watch to reassure himself. One minute and seventeen seconds left. The silver face and sapphire numbers flicker in the overcast light.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

He starts. The young man from the railing is looking at him with a distant gaze. There is only one person he can be talking to.

"Yes," he replies and lowers his head. He does not need the unnecessary attention from this person. He is waiting for someone else.

Thirty-three seconds. His heartbeat quickens. It is as if there is a butterfly fluttering in his chest, desperate to escape from its rib-caged prison. He holds it off and swallows his nervousness. That person will be here soon.

Another ten seconds pass. He thinks to begin his mental countdown at ten seconds. To reassure himself, he slips out his pocket watch and checks the time. The little numbers tick by. Those engraved for the years, days, hours, and minutes are all zeros. It will not be long before all the numbers display a blank.

His heart jolts with electricity. His feelings are overwhelming. Twelve seconds. Now eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.

"Four. Three…Two…One…"

And the numbers all show zeros.

He looks up at the only door leading off and to the roof. It does not open. No one else comes. He looks at his pocket watch with a crease between his eyebrows. The numbers are never wrong. This is impossible.

Perhaps his watch broke. Fear overtakes when him he thinks of that possibility. Maybe he was not supposed to meet that person today. Maybe he was supposed to meet that person many days ago, maybe even years.

He stares at the door for a good three minutes. The rain has soaked his hair through and through now. His brother will scold him if he catches a cold.

No one comes. There is only him and the other lone person on the roof.

His stomach wavers. He feels sick. This was not supposed to happen. Not like this. There was something wrong with the system. Someone should have come. He should be talking to that person right now.

His lips and throat are dry in spite of the humidity. He thinks that because it is raining it will be alright to cry. The raindrops will mask his tears on his way home.

He seizes himself and stands up. It is then that the other man makes his presence known again.

"Your watch went off, didn't it?" he says.

He stops dead in his tracks. Was he watching him? He looks over his shoulder and sees the man for who he is. His face almost looks familiar. He studies him. No. He has never met this person in his life before today. He still answers him.

"Yes," he replies. "It did. But how did you know?"

It cannot be a coincidence. It never is. Some call it predetermined chance. Those who do not know any better call it luck. And then there are those who call it fate.

The man pulls out a crystal-engraved pocket watch. He pops it open and reveals a dazzling golden coating with ruby-red numbers. They have all stopped at zeros. He is he one he has been waiting for.

He refuses to believe it at first. This is not who he wants to see. The person that will change the course of his life, who will ultimately be a part of his life, is him?

"No." He steps back. "You can't be that person."

The man tilts his head as if in confusion. "Why not?"

His lips tremble as he speaks. "B-Because…You're a-a—"

"A guy?" he finishes.

He nods, embarrassed.

The man does not show him any sympathy. "Put me in your shoes," he snaps. "How do you think I feel right now knowing the most important person in my life is another guy?"

"Not very good," he assumes with a hung head.

"No shit," he curses. "I've waited nineteen years of my life for this? For you?"

His words sting. He flinches at how direct he is. He can relate, though. To say he is disappointed is an understatement. But he does not let his words slide so easily. He did not want this, either.

"I've waited nineteen years, too," he speaks in a low voice. "I didn't expect you to be…whatever it is you're supposed to be." He looks bitterly at his pocket watch. "I don't know if this is supposed to be a joke or not. I thought things would be different. I thought things would be better."

The man snorts at his words. "Better?" he echoes. "You might want to take that back depending on how you look at it."

He does not understand and remains silent.

"Let me ask you this—do you know who I am?"

"No. We've never met before."

It does not look like that was the correct answer to give. "We didn't have to meet for you to know who I am. Seriously? You really don't know me?"

"No," he repeats. "Am I supposed to?" He cannot help but feel that he has seen him somewhere before.

The man grabs him by his collar. There is a dark look in his eyes. "I'm Leon," he growls. "Leon Wang. As in the actor?"

It makes sense now. He remembers his face. He has seen it on movie posters and commercials. His face is everywhere these days. How did he miss it before?

"O-Oh," he stutters. "Yes, I remember now."

His grip releases from his collar to give him room to breathe. "You'd better remember it," he spits. "What about you? You got a name?"

He lowers his head. His name cannot compare.

"Emil," he tells him. "Emil Steilsson."

"Huh." This Leon character leans back against the railing and stares back at the city. "And I snuck out of my hotel room for this?" He looks at him again. "But you're not half-bad looking. Do you dye your hair?"

He fingers the messy tufts of silvery white hair on his sides. "It's natural."

Leon's thick eyebrows arch. "You don't say. Huh." He licks the rain running from his lips. "I think this actually might work out."

Emil blinks. "What will?"

"Us," he bluntly answers. "You, me, we can be a thing. Not…soul mates or whatever. Just…" He shrugs. "Friends, I guess?"

"Friends," he echoes. The air grows still around him. The light showers continue to fall and soak him slowly but surely. The city smells like light honey. His surroundings are clear. He is alive. He is breathing. His numbers stopped at their zeros. This is really the one he is destined to be with.

"Something wrong?" the actor asks. His bangs are noticeably stylized. They part in asymmetrical lengths in the front and sweep to the sides in elegant locks. It makes sense considering he is an actor. He looks nice all the same.

Emil's stomach tightens when he wraps his arms around his waist. His heart is still fluttering. It is a different kind of fluttering.

"…I've never had a friend before." His voice is so soft it can almost be a whisper. Leon cannot hear him with the rain pitter-pattering along the rooftop.

"What was that? Can you speak up?"

He speaks a little louder. "I've never had a friend before."

He hears it the second time. "Never?"

"Never." His arms tighten around his waist. "I thought it wouldn't matter when I met my significant other. I guess that isn't really happening."

"No. You're wrong there." His hand extends out to him. "You've got me."

He can hardly believe his ears. It is unusual for a celebrity to extend his generosity to a complete stranger. It does not even matter if their watches stopped at the same time. This sort of thing is rare or unheard of.

"You can't be serious." He leaves Leon's hand frozen in the rain.

"I am. Our numbers hit zero at the same time. We've gotta have something between us."

His lips nearly crack a smile. It is as if he is listening to a foreign language. No one ever tells him things like this. It must be what some call "fate."

"Maybe," he breaths a laugh and takes his hand. They shake and acknowledge each other's presence. "It's nice to finally meet you…Leon."

"Same here, Emil," he smiles. There is no doubt that he is an actor. All of his features are in the right place. He does not appear too feminine or too masculine. He is beautiful.

They at last break their handshake and make small talk on the solitary rooftop.

"What do you do for a living?" Leon asks him.

"Nothing," comes the reply. "I'm a college student."

"Hmm." He does not carry on the conversation.

"I'm going to assume you don't have the time to go to college?"

"Not exactly. I'm what you can call 'homeschooled.' My guardian teaches me."

"I didn't know you could get homeschooled at a college level."

"There's a first for everything."

Their voices fall into silence as the showers continue. Leon soon gets up from the railing and heads towards the door.

"You're leaving?" Emil asks.

"Yup. I need to get back before my agent and guardian finds out I'm missing. They can't give two shits if I came here to meet my soul mate. Oh. Before I go…" He slips his hand inside his pocket and takes out a little plastic card. Water droplets slide off the glossy surface like beads of oil to a swan's down. It is a business card.

"Give me a call," he says as he hands it over. "Just say your name. My agent will hook me up with you."

His throat is parched like paper when he takes it. It almost feels like he is taking a large check from a generous donor. It is a humbling feeling.

"I…thank you," he shyly says and pockets the card. "Will we see each other again?"

A flawless smile spreads on Leon's celebrity-winning lips. "We will. Until then." He taps his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs leaving Emil alone again. He stays a while before deciding to head back home to deliver the news to his brother. His soul mate is another guy. His name is Leon Wang. He is a celebrity. He is beyond perfect.

This is my first time writing about Hong Kong and Iceland like this so please bear with me. This story is also loosely TiMER inspired.