Echoes of Us: The CEO and His Soulmates [BL]

Callum sat at the low table, his pen resting idly on a notepad, staring at the orange bean bag across from him as though it had personally offended him. The design of the Catalyst Games meeting rooms was designed to inspire creativity, encourage collaboration, and make stern-faced financial advisors feel a little less terrifying. There was something inherently ridiculous about seeing two men in expensive suits perched upright on bean bags, their knees almost to their chests, trying to discuss marketability trends for VR gaming.

Callum didn't laugh, though. He wasn't in the mood. 

Across the table, Ryan was gesturing animatedly toward a holographic presentation projected in the air, pitching their concept for a new game to a group of unsure investors. "What we're proposing is an immersive narrative-driven fantasy game, one that pushes the boundaries of emotional storytelling in a fully interactive world," Ryan explained. "We're talking dynamic character arcs, player-driven choices, a living, breathing ecosystem. It's going to be more than gameplay—we want to create a world that feels alive."

The investors exchanged glances. One of them, a man with thin-rimmed glasses and a permanent scowl, leaned forward. "That's all well and good, but where's the evidence this kind of game sells? You're proposing a high-risk, high-budget project with no clear proof of demand. And let's not forget the underperformance of your last game; Sage of the Mist. The company took a hit there—can you really afford another failure?"

Callum's pen moved absently against the notepad in front of him, tracing the outline of a shape that had been stuck in his head since the morning. He didn't notice what he was drawing until the lines started to take form: pointed ears, a striped fluffy tail, the sleek body of a tiger-fox creature. His pen paused as his chest tightened. Arrow.

"Mr. Pierce?" 

The sound of his name pulled him back to the room. He looked up to find all eyes on him: the investors, Ryan, even the stern legal advisor struggling to sit comfortably in her bean bag. He blinked, his mind racing. What had they just said? 

Ryan nudged him subtly with his foot under the table, his tone deliberately light. "The investors would love to hear your thoughts, Callum."

Callum cleared his throat, forcing himself to look composed despite the heat rising to his face. "Right. Well." He straightened in his chair, his mind still blank. "We've all talked about… important things here today, and issues have certainly been raised…" He trailed off slightly, shifting his gaze to Ryan, who looked like he was resisting the urge to facepalm. "…We can circle back to this at a later date." 

The investors exchanged confused glances as Callum abruptly pushed back his chair and stood. "Excuse me," he muttered, heading toward the door without waiting for a response.

"Uh—thank you for your time, everyone! I'll get my secretary to set up another date to finalize this!" Ryan called, his voice tinged with forced enthusiasm as he scrambled to wrap up the meeting. He quickly followed Callum into the hallway, his shoes clacking against the polished floor. "Callum!" he hissed. "What the hell was that?"

Callum kept walking, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "I'm just distracted."

"Distracted?" Ryan repeated, incredulous. "Yeah, I noticed. That meeting went terribly. What is going on with you?"

Callum didn't respond immediately. His thoughts were swirling with images: the soft curl of wild brown hair, a smattering of freckles like constellations across a nose, green eyes that seemed to see straight through him. The familiarity unnerved him on a fundamental level. He'd never met Micah Liu before today but he knew his face. It felt like Micah wasn't just someone he knew, but someone he'd lost. 

"I need to check something," Callum finally said.

Ryan frowned, walking briskly to keep up with him. "Check what?"

Callum's gaze flicked toward the elevator. He didn't bother explaining, his mind too focused on one thing. Based on the direction Micah had been coming from when they bumped into each other, and the sketchbook he'd been carrying, it wasn't hard to figure out where he might find him. "I'm heading to the Design Department," he said, pressing the elevator button.

Ryan stared at him like he'd just announced he was going to the moon. "Wait, what? You want to pay a visit to Design? Are you feeling okay? The headset you slept in didn't melt your brain, did it?"

Callum gave him a withering look. "The Stimulus HMD works perfectly fine, Ryan." He scoffed. "If anything, it's underperforming. It delays nerve receptor stimulation."

"I'll make sure to tell tech," Ryan deadpanned. "What's this about then?" He asked, trailing after him as they stepped into the elevator. "Is this about the person who gave Dale the Demolitions Expert a fat ass? Because I already reprimanded them, and we patched it up."

Callum blinked, both confused and mildly horrified. "…What?"

"You didn't hear about that?" Ryan grinned, leaning against the elevator wall. "Apparently the intern responsible thought it was hilarious. I mean, it was. But we had to fix it for the patch release. Can you imagine the reviews if we left that in?"

Callum pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "I'm not here about that, Ryan. I just…" He hesitated, then sighed. "I realized I don't interact with my staff enough. I need to get familiar with the different departments in this company… starting with the character design team."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Am I witnessing the birth of a new Callum? Next thing you know, you'll be passing out coffee in the break room and asking people about their hobbies." He laughed, "C'mon man, we both know that no one's gonna give you grief for not hanging around your staff at every minute. Just show up to meetings on time and sign whatever paperwork is put in front of you."

His throat tightened at Ryan's casual teasing. It wasn't like Ryan meant anything by it—but it still stung. Because deep down, wasn't that exactly how everyone saw him? His board of directors, his employees, even Ryan sometimes— to them, he was a puppet in a suit. He was the face of Catalyst Games, a figurehead who showed up to meetings and signed whatever was put in front of him. No one expected more of him because they all knew who really kept the lights on in Catalyst. 

"Just… drop it," Callum muttered, stepping out of the elevator as the doors opened. 

They slowed to a stop outside the Design Department and the glass walls offered a clear view of the creative space within. Employees worked at their desktops, a few sketching in hammocks that hung in the center of the room, while two others smacked a ping-pong ball back and forth, taunting each other playfully. The scene was casual and collaborative—exactly the kind of culture Catalyst Games prided itself on—but Callum couldn't stop the growing tightness in his chest.

"Alright," he said, turning to Ryan, "I just have a few questions to ask—" He paused, his brow furrowing. "Christopher… some questions on the designs of our next game."

Ryan stared at him blankly. "Christopher resigned months ago. Moved his family to Canada, remember?" 

Callum froze, his stomach flipping. "Oh. Right," he said, his voice tight. "So… who's in charge now?"

"That would be Genesis," Ryan said, his grin spreading.

Before Callum could process the name, a woman poked her head around the corner, her bright red curls bouncing as she glanced around. "Who called?" she said brightly. Then, spotting Ryan, she added, "Oh, hey, Ryan." Her gaze shifted to Callum, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mr. Pierce?" 

Callum resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was it really that shocking to see him here? He wasn't that distant from his employees. Was he?

"Genesis," Ryan said, his tone half-amused, "Callum here wanted to stop by for a little chat with your team."

"Well," Genesis said, stepping fully into view with her arms crossed, "it's good to have you pay us a visit. What can I do you for?"

Callum's mouth opened, but the words wouldn't come. He couldn't exactly say, 'Have you seen the man of my dreams? He's about yay tall, honey-brown skin, freckles like stars, green eyes that could kill me dead.' That wasn't going to work. 

Before he could conjure a reasonable response, his gaze snagged on someone in the office. Micah. He was leaning over a desk divider, talking animatedly to the person seated on the other side. His wild curls fell forward slightly, framing his face, and that smile—that same shy, slightly self-conscious smile from earlier—lit up his features.

Callum's stomach twisted sharply, and the words tumbled out before he even looked back at Genesis. "I'm seeing some new faces among your team."

Genesis followed his gaze, then nodded. "Oh, it's intern season," she said. "We've got some promising additions. Like that kid, Micah," she added, pointing toward him through the glass. "Stunning portfolio. He has a great mastery of composition and perspective."

"Is that so?" Callum murmured, almost to himself, his voice low and distant.

Ryan looked at him, then followed his line of sight to Micah. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. "Oooh," he said, dragging out the word like he'd just discovered a juicy secret. "So that's the reason for the deer-caught-in-headlights look this morning."

Callum ignored him. His attention was fixed on Micah, whose green eyes flicked up toward him. Their gazes met, and Micah's lips quirked into a shy, hesitant smile. 

Something cracked open inside Callum, a flood of warmth rushing in to fill the space where his heart sat. The light of the office suddenly felt softer, warmer, almost golden—until it wasn't the office at all. 

A barn took shape around him, sunlight streaming through wooden slats. The smell of hay, meat and Kinnarion shit filled his nose. Someone was nudging him hard, but he couldn't look away from that same shy smile.

"…Caelan… Prince Caelan…"