Binge-watched The Good Place recently. Rewatching it so season 3 doesn't seem so far away. Wrote this on a whim. Takes place during Dance Dance Revolution, a.k.a attempt #802. Recommend reading this with Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable" playing in the background. It's their theme, y'all.
Eleanor Shellstrop had never believed in soulmates. And when Michael said she had one, she was skeptical. First of all, love was a sham designed to bring you down and expose your vulnerabilities to the point where they are used against you "in the name of love". Second of all, Michael was full of shirt. So soulmates, fork that. She had bigger fish to fry. (You know, the whole thing that she didn't belong there, in that weird Icelandic modern house with the clown nook and the stupid bedroom with no stairs. Oh also, the fact that she had not done any of the things Michael said she had done, like helping kids or the environment or death-row inmates. You know, that shirt.) So fork soulmates. And Chidi Ana-whatever was definitely not her soulmate. Fork that. He was annoying, with his stupid glasses that were always askew, especially after he laughed and bowed his head if she said something stupid. Or the way he could talk about Kant for hours on end – seriously, he was horny for the guy and it was weird. Though kind of cute. The way she could talk about shirtless mailmen for hours. Well, that one particular mailman. It didn't matter. Chidi Ana-banana? So not her soulmate. His only soulmate were books, the way he hunched over them at the breakfast table, the way he sucked his teeth when he read something he didn't quite agree with, like when he read her essays. (It disappointed her when he did this while reading her essays – she spent so much time on those! Well, 25 minutes on average. But that was a lot for her – she got bored writing text messages, for Gosh's sake.) Chidi Ana-ya boring was not her soulmate and Eleanor didn't doubt that for a second. Not even when she quoted Kant perfectly by accident and he looked at her from the chalkboard with his mouth slightly open and his eyes slightly crinkled in astonishment and pride and she wondered, if this was the Good Place, why couldn't she live in that moment forever? Whatever. Soulmates weren't real. Eleanor didn't believe in them at all. Not even when Mindy showed her the tape and told her how long Eleanor and Chidi have known each other. And not even when Michael told her that no matter what, Chidi always helped her, in every reboot. None of it swayed her opinion that soulmates were not a thing. Her soulmate? Shrimp. Shrimpies and margaritas. And every season of the Real Housewives of Atlanta. And Jonathan Dancy (she'd read ahead – take that, Chidi!).
And yet.
We've known each other for, like, a week.
You know it's more than that. We've been through some version of this eight-hundred different times. And who cares if it's only been a week? How long do you have to know someone before you do the right thing?
Motherforking shirtballs. She had it bad. Even though Michael had lied from the beginning, and that this was actually the Bad Place, Chidi still helped her every single forking time. No matter the reboot, she always found him and he always helped her, according to Michael and Mindy. Eleanor Shellstrop was no fool. She could fight with the bartender for the free drink because he "looked at her pervy" or her stupid coworkers at any baby shower or that dumb environmentalist guy outside the supermarket, but she could not fight the universe. And the universe was telling her that Chidi Anagonye was her soulmate. And darn it, if that stupid bench wasn't right. Because he knew her. Even if they'd only met a week before, he knew her. He knew she wasn't going to leave for Mindy's and leave him and the others behind, and he knew she would come back and fight for them, and he knew that deep down, she knew she was a good person. Even Michael said so.
So while she sits in the audience watching Vicky torture them with her shirty rendition of a Gloria Gaynor classic, she thinks of who she is fighting for by being on Michael's side and making it to the real Good Place: beautiful and snobby Tahani with legs for days and cappuccino skin, dumb Florida drug-dealer Jason with his trashy EDM and stupid Jacksonville Jaguar obsession, and Chidi Anagonye, her soulmate and the only person she would ever read for.
She sneaks a look at him as Vicky belts out the final note of the song that Eleanor has now come to hate, and in that moment, she feels warm inside. She feels safe knowing he's there, too, like a flashlight guiding her out of a dark cave. She wonders how she had never believed in soulmates before.
Reviews always appreciated! xx WhatsWithLuna3