*Author's Note*

Thank you for the faves, follows, and reviews.

What's A Soulmate?

Gem POV:

I was 4-or-5 years old when I first found out about the special bond between soulmates. I found out in an innocent way, of course. I was at home with my mom on a Saturday while my dad was at work. We were splayed out on the floor coloring in some coloring books, using my box of half-broken crayons, whenever she nodded her head and sat up while telling me, "Daddy's having a bad day at the precinct. We need to go to the store; get him a few bottles of his 'happy juice'." Unfortunately, at my young age I had no idea that 'happy juice' was booze and that my dad was an alcoholic and a shitty detective. I learnt later (from over hearing my uncle and Gramps talking) that he was a dirty cop and a piece of shit human.

"How do you know, mommy?" I asked since my daddy didn't call my mommy on the phone to tell her he was having a bad day and needed his 'happy juice' (cough *booze* cough).

"Because he told me, sweetheart." My mom simply said while closing the color books and picking up the crayons; putting them away in their box.

"No, he didn't. Daddy at work." I protested while watching my mommy close the box of broken crayons.

Standing up with the crayon box and the coloring books, my mom told me, "Oh, sweetheart, daddy told me thru the soulmate bond.",

"What's that, mommy?" I asked, watching her bring the crayon and coloring books over to the coffee table.

"Oh, it's when your soulmate and you can talk in your minds; share your thoughts." She told me while setting the things in her hands down on the coffee table. Walking over to me, she added in, "It happens when you're 18 and its how you meet your soulmate."

"Mommy, what's a soulmate?" I curiously asked, taking her hand and letting her pull me up to my feet.

"A soulmate's like a best friend, except that its more cause you love them." My mom told me as sheled me over to where our shows were at by the door. Helping me into my shoes, she went on to say. "They're your other half; the one person who knows you better then you know yourself." She took my pink coat off of the coat tree in the corner, right by the door, and helped me into it. "They're the one person you'll spend forever with; who you'll always love no matter what." My mom slipped on her own black flats and grabbed her black coat from the rack while telling me, "It's you and them against the world because they were made for you and you were made for them." Grabbing her purse from the rack and slinging it onto her shoulder, she finished her explanation with, "And when it's time for soulmates to meet, nothing can prevent that meeting."

"Oh…" I nodded, the meaning of what I'd just heard flying over my head, as my mommy led me out the front door.

I was probably too young to fully understand the meaning of a soulmate, but I'm glad that she told me tho. Especially since that was the only time the subject of soulmates ever got brought up between us. At least I'd remember her definition of a soulmate and understand the meaning later on (like when I was in middle school?).

"Let's walk to the store to get daddy his 'happy 'juice'. I'll even treat you to a pop." Mommy smiled at me before holding my hand and walking down the driveway with me.

"Okay, mommy." I smiled, excited to get pop since daddy rarely let me have it, as we walked down the sidewalk in the rundown neighborhood, we called home.

A few years later my mommy was in a hospital bed, wired up to all kids of machines, as she waited to die. She had stage-3 breast cancer. It spread into her blood and bones because the surgeon didn't get it all out when he performed her surgery. As Gramps always said, he was a quack. Also, her body wasn't taking to the chemo treatments. The radiation treatments did nothing, but burn her skin; making it raw, red, and puckered, instead of nuking the cancer. Her body just wasn't responding to the treatments.

I sat in a chair by her bedside, my legs dangling in the air since they were too short to touch the ground, while my daddy was working in the precinct in downtown Cleveland. The nurses would peek into the room, checking on me as I just sat and stared at my mommy while she struggled to breath and writhed in pain. I didn't understand back then why the nurses kept checking in on me, but as I got older, I figured out it was because they didn't think I should've been in the room (without my dad) while my mom was near death.

I was watching General Hospital in the late afternoon whenever alarm bells from the machines started to go off. Before I could ask my mommy, who was laying still on the bed with her eyes closed, what was wrong a doctor and a group of nurses came running into the room with a large rolling cart. The doctor pointed to me and barked, "She can't be in here during a code blue!"

A tall nurse with honey-blonde hair and a friendly smile appeared by my chair and told me, "Come on, honey. We're gonna go into the hall while they work on your mommy."

"Why? What's wrong with her?" I asked, but the nurse didn't say a word; just grabbed my hand, pulled me off of my chair, and rushed me out of the room. "What's wrong with my mommy?" I asked, once again, as the nurse escorted me upfront to the nurses' station.

"The doctor and the nurses are working on her; trying to make her better." The nurse told me right before picking up the phone and dialing a number. I just sat in a chair next to her while she spoke into the phone. "Mr. Schulze, your wife just went into code blue. You need to get down here right away." I furrowed my brows, not understanding what the phrase code blue meant. The nurse just sat still with a sad expression on her face, listening to whatever my dad was saying on the phone. Nodding, she said, "I'll tell her, Mr. Schulze. See you soon, goodbye.", before hanging up the phone. The nurse turned to me with a fake smile and softly said, "Your daddy'll be here soon, sweetheart."

"Okay." I simply told the nurse while I tried to look down the hall to see what was going on in my mom's room. Too bad the room was too far down the hall for me to see anything.

It felt like hours had gone by whenever my dad had rushed up to the nurses' station. "Detective Schulze, word on my wife." I heard him say, causing me to look up at him.

"Daddy!" I exclaimed, jumping out of my chair and running around the station. Flinging myself at him for a hug, which he half-heartedly gave me, I frantically told him, "They won't tell me about mommy."

"Don't worry, Gem, they'll tell me." He told me, his breath smelling like a mix of black coffee and Irish whiskey. Ending the half-hug, he stood up and looked at the nurse. "What the hell's going on with my wife, Marina Rizzo-Schulze?"

"Sir, I told you on the phone that she went into a code blue." The honey-blonde nurse in baby blue scrubs told my dad in a very level, but soft tone.

"Yea, I know that, but what I want to know is if I still got a wife or not." My dad bluntly told the nurse. He had no etiquette; his words made him sound like an asshole.

"The doctor and the nurses worked on her, but I'm sorry to say that she's passed on." The nurse explained in a very sympathetic tone.

My dad just nodded before telling the nurse, "Just give me the paperwork to sign so I can have her released to the funeral home. Watson's."

The nurse's light green eyes widened and her mouth gaped slightly. "Yes, sir, just give me a minute to print out the forms." She told my dad, still in shock, as she started to fiddle with her computer.

"Well, hurry up. I don't got all goddamned day. I gotta get back to the precinct."

"Do you have some-" The nurse began to ask only for my dad to harshly cut her off with, "My captain says he'll watch her; the other detectives in the precinct will too, if me and my partner catch a case."

The nurse didn't say another word, just printed out the forms my dad wanted and handed them over to him with a pen. Quickly, my dad filled them out and then handed them back over to the nurse. Looking down at me, he simply said, "Let's go, Gem.", before walking over to the nearby elevator. Quickly, I followed my dad over to the elevator; knowing that it was just me and him now.

After leaving the hospital, we went to the precinct in downtown Cleveland. It was a large tan building that was across the street from the post office and the public library. It was also within a short walking distance of a gas station, a McDonalds, a wing place, the liquor store, the Family Dollar, my elementary school (East Clark), Subway, and a Chinses take-out place. Since it was Saturday (and my mom was dead) I was stuck sitting by my dad's desk and watching him do paperwork. His partner, Detective Lee, was a large black guy that reminded me of that football player Terry Crews, but he was nice enough. He gave me a few pieces of caramel candy and even talked to me a bit about school. His son was in kindergarten at East Clark so he was familiar with the school. I met his son a few times when he came over to visit with his wife or when my dad would take us to his house. Detective Lee was the closest thing to a friend my dad had and his wife was the closest thing to a friend that my mom had (before she died) too.

See, I had no idea back then, but my dad had us living in Collinwood (the hood) cause it was where the 5th precinct was (where he worked). The neighborhood wasn't that far from the center of Cleveland and was a bit run down. Plight had taken over a lot of the neighborhood and a lot of the houses were rundown. Collinwood was also right by the river (the one that was so nasty it burnt on fire, but I didn't learn about that til I was in middle school and my uncle told me). It wasn't until I moved a week after my mom's funeral (and grew up a tiny bit) did I realize that the hood of Cleveland was worse than the Brooklyn borough of Bensonhurst. When I was in second grade tho I had no idea how bad of an area my dad had me and my mom living in. A nicer area would mean spending too much gas money to commute and that's something my cheap dad couldn't do, huh?

The Sunday after my mom's death I had to go to work with my dad, but when he was called out on a case, I got stuck spending my day in the captain's office. He was a grumpy old man that reminded me of Mr. Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. He didn't say much, just gave me some paper and a pen to draw with. He did buy me lunch tho from the Chinese take-out place down the road, but I think he only did that cause he wanted to eat and didn't want me guilting him. Whatever, I was happy to get fed lunch.

The Monday after my mom's death my dad dropped me off at school and when school was out, I walked to the precinct. That happened every day until Friday, the day of my mom's funeral. I didn't go to school that day. Instead, I was in a large funeral home with my dad. We were greeting mourners and well-wishers as they came in for the viewing that was taking place before the graveside service in the cemetery that was the next street over from the funeral home. Well, my dad actually greeted the people while I just stood quietly next to him dressed in a new black dress; smiling occasionally at the neighbors or the people I knew (like the parents of my classmates or a teacher from school).

"If you need anything, let me know." Our next-door neighbor, Missus BeBe, told my dad before giving me a big hug.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine." My dad told the elderly woman, earning him a pointed look and a headshake from her.

"Don't be a stranger, sugar. Come on over anytime and I'll whip ya up some of my sweet potato pie." Missus BeBe told me, a sad smile on her milk-chocolate face making her crows feet and wrinkles deepen, before walking off to pay her respects to my mom.

My dad stiffened, making his dress uniform crinkle, whenever my Gramps and Nonna from New York City stopped right in front of him. Both Gramps and Nonna were short, a good foot shorter than my dad, so I didn't understand why he flinched when he saw them. "Dominick, Marie." He greeted them a bit tensely, not even offering them hugs or handshakes.

"You're a fucking piece of shit, making Marina have this abomination of a funeral when you know she should be laid to rest in the Roman Catholic faith; not this Baptist bullshit." Gramps spat, his face shaking angrily, as he stared daggers at my dad.

"Oh, I told my baby when she brought you home as her soulmate that you were no goddamn good. That she needed to cut ties with you and find somebody else; turns out I was right. A better man would have her buried in the family plot in Bensonhurst with a service done in the church by Father Rueben." Nonna told my dad in a high-pitched tirade; waggling a finger in his face.

My dad narrowed his eyes at my grandparents while dryly telling them, "I'm so sorry to disappoint you and go against the strict Italian customs, but as her husband I decide what's best for Marina's funeral."

"What's best my ass. You just wanted what's cheap, ya motherfucker." Gramps scoffed before sidestepping my dad and stopping right in front of me. Bending down, he bopped my nose and asked, "How my Tesoro?"

"I'm okay, Gramps." I answered with a fake smile.

"No, you're not, but you will be." He told me before giving me a hug. His hugs were the best. Gramps gave me a smirk whenever he broke our hug and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"God, I hate you almost as much as I hate my sister's soulmate." Nonna told my dad before rushing over to me and giving me a big hug. "My poor baby." She sighed, kissing me on the cheek.

"Don't mind her, Grant. Marie's never been that sweet of a woman or understanding. I think that's why she pairs so well with Dominick." My Great-Aunt Sophia, who was Nonna's sister, told my dad as she walked up to him, giving him a soft, but small hug.

While standing by me, Gramps looked at his sister-in-law and bluntly told her, "Don't make things out better than they are, Sophia. Your propaganda boy of a soulmate's as bad as your nephew-in-law that's standing right in front of you." He let out a scoff of, "Only difference is that he actually made it to the wedding on time."

Turning her full attention onto Gramps, my great-aunt shrieked, "Stevie had a greater calling to his country, Dominick. Don't make it out as if he didn't want to come home to me, cause he did."

"Now's not the place you guys." My Uncle Rocco hissed, causing my Great-Aunt Sophie and Gramps to bite their tongues, as he gave our aunt a quick nudge to make her move aside so that he could see my dad.

"Oh, Rocco, you know any time's the place to hash that out when your dad and aunt gets going. Just let them at it; eventually she'll get upset enough that she'll sulk off and he'll win the battle." Nonna said in an airy tone while running her fingers soothingly thru my thick brown curly hair. Hair that always seemed wild and untamable.

"Sophie's soulmate's a piece of shit and so are their spawn. Hell, I don't see him or their 'perfect' spawn here today." Gramps ranted as he and my Nonna walked off to go pay respects to my mom while my Great-Aunt Sophie gave me a warm hug and a sad smile.

"They're not here today cause he knows I'll confront him about the picture of his 'other woman' he keeps in his wallet." Nonna said knowingly and loudly as she walked toards where my mom's coffin was at.

"You two stop talking like that." Great-Aunt Sophia ordered in a loud snap as she stormed over to where Gramps and Nonna were at. "He's not here cause I was practically disowned when he came home and we married. Stevie doesn't want to stir the pot." Great-Aunt Sophia explained as she joined my grandparents at the front of the room (where my mom was at).

"He came back a decade after the war ended, when everyone thought he was dead, after doing god knows what with god knows who; ready to settle with you. That's why you got disowned." I heard my Nonna loudly snip at her sister from across the room. All of the people siting in the viewing room were staring at my Nonna, Gramps, and Great-Aunt too. It seems their loud antics were too much for a nice Baptist funeral…

"He was never unfaithful physically, just emotionally. He met somebody in the time we were parted and fell in love with her, but she remained loyal to her soulmate and he came home to me once his work was over." I heard my great-aunt explain in a loud shriek-snap while she and my grandparents walked away from my mom's coffin after taking a final look at her.

I would've continued eavesdropping on my grandparents and great-aunt's conversation, but my uncle kneeling down in front of me and giving me a hug tore my attention away from the drama unfolding across the room. "Hey, Tesoro. Keep your chin up no matter how hard the fight seems, okay." He told me while my Aunt Connie just gave my dad a lukewarm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Okay, Uncle Rocco. I will." I told my uncle, giving him a small smile. He just smiled back, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and patted my shoulder before standing up.

"Oh, baby…" Aunt Connie sighed before bringing me into a big bear hug. Her highlighted dark hair was up in an over teased French twist and all the hairspray she used made my eyes water and nearly made me choke. When she pulled back from the hug, I felt like I could finally breathe again.

Aunt Connie and Uncle Rocco went to pay their respects respects to my mom while their sons and their soulmates (if they had them) said some words to me and my dad. All of my uncles, aunts, and cousins (I had a lot of them on my mom's side) saying 'hi' went by in a whoosh before a few more people my dad knew came up to us. Then a few silent moments were spent just saying goodbye to my mom, who looked like she was sleeping in her aqua blue velvet lined coffin. The undertaker made her up to look really pretty with her brown hair curled and framing her face; bronze eyeshadow on her eyelids and a stroke of coral blush on her cheekbones with some pink lipstick to match the pink dress daddy had picked out for her. It was her favorite dress. I cried when I said goodbye to my mommy (who was now in heaven), but daddy didn't cry. In fact, he didn't say a word, just stared at her before telling the funeral director he was ready to move everyone to the cemetery for the graveside service.

It was exactly one week after my mom's funeral when my dad loaded me up into his Ford Bronco and drove us to Brooklyn, New York instead of taking me to school. He had a backpack full of clothes for me and a bag with a few toys for me too. When I asked him where we were going, all he said was that we were visiting Uncle Rocco, Aunt Connie, Gramps, and Nonna for a little bit. That seemed to put my curiousness at ease and I just resorted to listening to the radio and looking outside of my window as we road down the highway. The nearly 8-hour trip to New York didn't seem that bad. I mean my dad got us drive-thru and let me eat my kid's meal in the car, so I wasn't complaining. He even bought me some gummy bears and a Slurpee when we stopped at the 7-11 for gas and potty breaks, so I thought the road trip to see my mom's family in New York City was fun.

It was around two in the afternoon whenever we crossed over the Brooklyn Bridge. My brown eyes were wide as I took in the bridge, the river below it, and the city of Brooklyn. The part right by the bridge was really pretty looking. It had all of these very large and elegant looking brick buildings in the neighborhood. It was like something out of a classic movie, it looked that classy.

As we drove down the road the different neighborhoods began to change in style and classiness. The farther away we got from the Brooklyn Bridge the rougher looking the neighborhoods got. When we reached the neighborhood my family lived in, we were surrounded by rowhomes that had large cement driveways with only small patches of grass and balconies with front doors since all the garages were underneath the balconies. I'd never seen houses like it before. It was something new and strange to me. When we pulled up to the curb of a house with a bright teal door and a statue of the Virgin Mary in the tiny front yard, my dad gave me a large envelope and told me, "Give that to whoever answers the door. Now, go on up to the house."

"Aren't you coming too, daddy?" I asked since he didn't turn the truck off.

"I'll be back after I go to the bodega on 72nd to grab some cigarettes." He told me, taking a final drag off his cigarette and tossing the butt out of the window he had cracked down.

"Okay." I nodded with a smile before exiting the truck. As soon as I closed the door and walked a few steps, I heard my dad speed down the road. I just shrugged it off, thinking that he really wanted to go buy his cigarettes since he smoked most of his on the road trip here. With my Rugrats backpack slung over my shoulder, my plastic bag of toys in one hand and the large envelope in the other, I walked up the large driveway, by the little patch of green grass, and up the endless flight of steps to the balcony. Once on the balcony, I walked up to the bright teal door and knocked on it.

After a minute or so the door opened to reveal Gramps. He looked at me with a weird look on his face before asking, "How'd you get here, Tesoro?"

"Daddy dropped me off and went to get cigarettes at the bodega." I told Gramps before handing him the envelope and adding in, "He said to give this to you, Gramps." Gramps nodded and took the envelope.

"Come on in and put your bags down." Gramps smiled, moving aside so I could walk into the house. "Go sit down and watch Food Network with your Nonna and Aunt Connie." He told me after I hung my bags up on the wall hooks in the entrance way.

"Okay." I simply told Gramps, as he shut the door, before I rushed over to the nearby couch. "Hi, Nonna, Aunt Connie. Gramps told me to watch Food Network with you." I greeted the women as I plopped down on the couch next to them.

"What're you doing here, baby?" Aunt Connie asked me as Nonna's eyes looked form me to Gramps, who was standing by the doorway; reading what was in the envelope my dad wanted me to give whoever opened the door.

Before Nonna could say a word, Gramps' voice rung out with a loud, "Motherfucker!" Storming into the living room with the envelope clutched tightly in one hand and a bunch of papers in the other, he ranted, "That no good motherfucker! Grant just signed papers giving you," He pointed at Aunt Connie, "and Rocco, guardianship of Gem 'ere." Shaking his head, he barked, "He's just dumping her on us like she's nothing, but goddamn trash to him instead of his own fucking flesh and blood. His own damn daughter."

My dad never came back from getting cigarettes from the bodega on 72nd street. In fact, he never came back at all. I never saw him again; only received the occasional birthday card from him. They were always generic and never sighed with anything more then Love Daddy. Stupid motherfucker…

Exactly 2-weeks after he left for cigarettes and never came back was when I received my first birthday card in the mail. It was Barbie themed; I had just turned 8-years old. Aunt Connie said that Barbies were for babies; she tossed out the card and didn't let me play with dolls. Nonna started teaching me how to crochet; both her and Aunt Connie let me help them in the kitchen too.

I was 12-years-old whenever Uncle Rocco felt it was time to teach me how to fight. Really fight, not the catfight slap shit that a lot of the girls in the neighborhood did. My uncle wanted me to know how to pack a punch. So, he dragged me to the gym on the corner of 72nd Street one hot July day.

The gym was old, like something out of the movie Rocky, and a handful of guys were training. There was a man around my uncle's age in an Everlast t-shirt, that oddly reminded me of Clint Eastwood, helping a man in the ring with punching. The man knew my uncle since, when he saw us walk in, he stopped what he was doing and went over to the side of the ring. Taking off one of the large pads he was wearing, he pointed at me and told my uncle, "Rocco, what's she doing here? You know I don't let girls train here."

"This," Uncle Rocco placed a hand on my shoulder, "Is my niece, Gem." He gave the gym owner (well I think he was the owner) a hard look while telling him, "I don't care if you don't let girls train here cause I'm teaching her how to fight. She's small and people'll want to take advantage of that; I don't want her to be weak like her mother was." Patting my shoulder, he added in a firm tone, "She's gonna know how to fight, how to stand up for herself."

Rolling his eyes, the gym owner scoffed, "Jesus H. Christ, you want to teach the girl how to fight cause her ma had an asshole for a soulmate? Rocco, that's not a reason to teach her to fight."

"I ain't just cause of that, Arlo. Hell, look at her. She's small and always will be. She needs to know how to hold her own, especially in this neighborhood."

"Fine, you train her, but if she starts crying cause she busts her nose or some shit she's outta here." Arlo relented, with a clause of course, before going back to helping the guy he was in the ring with practice his punches.

I never did cry or bust my nose. In fact, I took to punching and hitting things like a fish takes to water. In fact, I was a natural at fighting. So much so that when I was 16-years-old Arlo tried to talk Rocco into letting me get into some fights with some other up and coming girl boxers. Uncle Rocco said no, even after I busted Jimmy C.'s nose for making a fucked-up comment about my 'sweet tight ass'.

"She's good, Rocco. I mean she broke my best fighter's nose and didn't even flinch, just shook her hand out and went back to the speedbag." I heard Arlo tell my uncle as they sat on some bleachers, watching me train with the speed bag.

"But she's pretty, too pretty in a timeless classic way and every mean butter faced fighter's gonna go after her face to mar it." Uncle Rocco told the gym owner in a knowing way. "I don't want my niece to get a broken; crooked nose before she ever has the chance to meet her soulmate, Arlo." My uncle added in as the true reason for why he wasn't going to let me enter any local fights, like the ones held at the local meat packing plant.

"If her soulmate cares about whether her nose is perfectly straight or not or how pretty she is then he's an asshole. An asshole she better run from when the time comes." Arlo seriously told my uncle as they continued to watch me use the speed bag.

"Hey, both her ma and her great-aunt got paired up with assholes by the universe. It's not looking too good for her right now."

"Well, I hope the universe doesn't give her an asshole." Arlo told my Uncle Rocco. "I also hope that the universe gives her somebody tho. Having a soulless kid's hard, Rocco." Arlo sighed, his tone sad and weight down, as an unreadable look flashed in his eyes.

"So, Crossbones still hasn't found his match, huh?" Uncle Rocco asked tentatively as he looked between me and the gym owner he was sitting next to.

"No, my boy hasn't. And why're you calling him by his old fighting name?"

"We're in a gym, why not." My uncle shrugged.

"You're fucking odd. Must be cause you use up all your common sense working for Salieri."

"Your boy used to work for Salieri's chop-shop before he got out of the neighborhood so don't be turning your nose up."

"And don't make me remind you of why my boy got out of the neighborhood either." Arlo coldly told my uncle. "Now, I got to close up early and catch a flight to Virginia to see my boy. So, take your girl and go." Arlo sighed before standing up and heading over to where some guys were sparring in the ring, no doubt to tell them it was time to leave.

"Gem, time to go!" Uncle Rocco hollered at me before leaving Arlo's side and making his way over to the door.

I didn't say a word, just stepped away from the speed bag, grabbed my hoodie that was tossed to the side, and scrambled to pull it on while rushing to follow my uncle over to the gym's door. He held the door open for me as I walked out of the gym. As soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, Uncle Rocco closed the door and started to walk down the street. I fell into step right next to him.

We were halfway home whenever I asked my uncle, "So, Arlo's son's really a soulless?"

"Yep." Uncle Rocco popped his tongue.

Shoving my hands into my hoodie pocket, I told my uncle, "They told us in health class in school that the soulless are cursed by the Gods so that the Fates can bestow soulmates on the rest of us."

"Tesoro, being soulless isn't a curse, it just means that for some reason the universe couldn't find you a match."

"Geno says his uncle's a soulless and he's a mean fucker." I told my uncle, earning me a slight chuckle.

Giving me a stern look, Uncle Rocco told me, "Gem, I thought I told you I didn't like you hanging around Geno. That boy's too fast for you."

"I know, but he's cute. He also says he thinks we'll be soulmates."

"That boy's not your soulmate." My uncle barked, his brown eyes narrowed in a disgusted way at the mere thought of Geno joining our family as my soulmate.

"But what if he is?" I innocently countered as we walked by a dry-cleaners.

"Then you're screwed cause he's an asshole just like the rest of his goddamned family."

"I really hope my soulmates not an asshole, Uncle Rocco." I admitted to my uncle. Honestly, that was one of my fears, being stuck with an asshole.

"Then you better hope he's not Geno or some other bum from a big Northern city." My uncle told me in a dead serious voice as we walked by various shops, houses, and apartment buildings on our way home to 68th Street.

AN:

So, that was Gem's childhood. Well, the important dramatic parts of it. *sniff sniff* Well, next up is Gem's 18th birthday along with the soulmate reveal for her and Brock. Oh boy…Brock's gonna be in for a shock.