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Joshua sighed to himself. The idea that the government essentially chose the one person you should be with was a very Marxist idea. He loathed it, he thought they should be in a society where everyone had the same, though he could see the pros and cons of both.

He didn't know exactly what they chose on the basis for one's Fated One, he didn't know if it was science, random, computer-generated or magic – he didn't care. All he knew was that it worked, and he was parted from Amelia. He needed to get back there.

He was born in the wrong world; it was that simple.

As he sat opposite Christian – the de facto leader of the Drifters in this world – he sighed. He didn't even know how the group had a leader, or why, but Joshua was desperate for information.

"What happened, Joshua?" Christian asked him.

"I... found my Fated One. Like the real deal, not the other one I barely feel," Joshua answered. "But she's in the Other World, the opposite to this one. I... both my counterpart and I have decided. He wrote to me, but I don't know how we go about making the decision. I need to be back there, I need her."

"Has he found his Fated One?"

Joshua shook his head. "He hasn't mentioned it, I would assume he would've by now. I might ask him on paper. Is that how we switch for good?"

"No, if you both agree, you both have to make a declaration."

Joshua's eyes widened. "How?"

Christian sipped his water before regarding Joshua again. "That's the thing. We've heard reports that approaching the local government will work. We've heard people just announcing to a mirror – yeah, you heard right – will work. They declare it, their symptoms of The Change get stronger than ever and then that's it, either we hear from them because they stay here, or we never hear from them again because they swapped worlds. We can't pin the Declaration on one thing."

Joshua groaned. "We both agree. Why is this so freaking difficult?"

"Life, unfortunately, isn't easy, especially as a Drifter. I chose to stay in this world. My Fated One died two weeks later. Car crash."

"That sucks, I'm sorry," Joshua said.

"It's life. It's shit."

"What happens to you now, by the way? Your Fated One is gone, so what... what happens to you?"

Christian chuckled and ran a hand through his beach-blonde hair. Joshua thought he resembled a surfer, completely out of place for the marine coast. He belonged in California or even down in Cornwall if he was going to stay in England.

"I'm Segregated. Anyone who has a dead Fated One, or a flawed Knot... they get shoved together and called Segregated," Christian told him. "Unless they're elderly, of course. They get the rest of their lives free. Luckily for them."

"A flawed Knot?" Joshua couldn't focus on the rest of Christian's words.

He nodded at Joshua and sipped his water once more before explaining, "Sometimes a Knotsman Artist can get it wrong, forget to fill in the blanks, or leave a bit out, like a broken Knot in a way? I've seen some that represent snapped Knots, or one without a second line, one without the shaded in lines... it's weird. Some of Them have told me how the Knotsman Artist was paid off, or was dodgy, or a rebel who outed themselves before doing that person's Knot. Basically, they fuck someone over to 'stick it to the man' or whatever. So that person becomes Segregated. They can do whatever the fuck they want, but they're not allowed back in propersociety."

Joshua nodded. "How do you know? If the Knot is flawed?"

Christian shrugged. "I don't know, man. Some people make it obvious. Some people pay off their Artist to make it seem like it's normal, so they don't become Segregated, but they don't have to have a Fated One."

"What?"

"I hear about it a lot. Some people pay off their Artist to change their Knot. They pay them to find out who they're Fated to and then pay them to fake it. Make it flawed or match someone else. It's underground, so you don't hear much about it. People like me, though, because I was engaged to my Fated One before she died, I'm Segregated, but I can still live a normal life. I can fuck who I want without consequences, but I'm not allowed to marry. Unless I meet another widowed Segregate, obviously."

Joshua narrowed his eyes. "Doesn't that get lonely? Like... sure, you can fuck, but did you not have the same feelings I experience? The tether, the weird emotional stuff?"

Christian laughed. "Yeah, I did. I was in love with her. Bea, her name was. She was beautiful. But it's a kind of bittersweet pain after a while. I miss her like hell, but it's peaceful."

"How did they know you were engaged when she died?" Joshua asked.

"Don't ask me, the fucking government know everything. Or at least, they do here. Don't know what it's like in your other world."

They both fell silent.

Joshua stared at his Knot. He knew something had happened overnight, or rather during the day for Amelia. She'd touched her Knot at least four times, and he'd reciprocated. He'd been asleep, but the moment he felt her, it woke him up. He'd never have slept through it. She'd clearly needed him, and he was assuming that she was beginning to hate him a little less, but he cursed the fucking Drifting that he couldn't feel her emotions at that point.

He needed to find out how to make his Declaration, and he needed to do it fast.

"How do I make sure I get back as soon as possible?" Joshua asked.

Christian shrugged. "It's never, ever a guarantee, but I've heard recently that some Drifters have been getting drunk to the point of passing out, then they'll wake up in the other world. Some people have literallyknocked themselves out. I'm working on some theory right now that the unconscious brain shifts something within the brain that sets off the Drifting. But I can't... I can't give you a guarantee, man. You really have it bad for this girl, don't you?"

Joshua nodded. "She hates me, or rather the other me. She doesn't know about the Drifting. But I'm the one Fated to her and I've kind of started breaking those barriers, you know? I'm in love with her."

Christian reached across the table and smacked him on the shoulder with sympathy. "As the great Meatloaf once said... I will do anything for love."

Joshua snorted. "But he wouldn't do that. Right now, I'm wondering if Drifting was that. I wouldn't blame him, either, it's stressful."

"Is she worth it?"

Joshua chuckled. "Of course, she is. I just wish I could get back to her. Hey, what are the rules on telling people about Drifting?"

"Honestly? The jury is out. It might also differ between universes, but here? I haven't heard anyone being arrested for telling someone. But then the Drifters and Segregated Ones are all hush-hush and underground, so it could very well be illegal. The internet tells you diddly squat, they monitor the shit outta that. But if you tell her, make sure she keeps her mouth shut about it. If you manage to Declare anyway, then it won't be an issue."

"One last question," Joshua says.

"Shoot, my friend."

"Is there anything on having two Fated Ones?"

Christian leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. "Mate... it's virtually impossible. Obviously, it's one Fated Person per world, but in the same world? No. The governments in each world are essentially the same: calculated, careful and absolutely strict."

"But there are, like, seven billion people on one planet, with so many worlds, surely it's possible—"

"People like you, Josh, are an anomaly. You're not meant to be a Drifter, but something obviously went haywire. That's why there are Drifters because people get it wrong, but you and she were always meant to be, but for some reason, you got separated. That's why you're a Drifter. Could've been her, but that's always a coin toss, right? There aren't many of us Drifters, but there are enough of us. The thing is, whatever runs this Fated Person thing, they're so very careful about it. One person per world, two people in a match. Always. Yeah, there are the Segregated who fuck it up, try to boycott it, they fuck it up for their Fated One too. But there will only ever be two people per couple in one world."

Joshua leaned forward in his seat and stared at the cup in Christian's hand. The drips were almost crying with the knowledge circling in his brain. He couldn't piece it together, but it was there somewhere.

"Is it her, your Fated One?" Christian asked.

"Hm. She says her fiancé in that world has the same Knot Art as us. I've never felt him, and he said to her he never felt me, when I'm there, obviously. I've definitely felt her, I can connect to her using the Knot here, but I can't feel her here. But she's adamant she has two Fated Ones."

Christian blew a raspberry as he sat back in his seat. "I mean, it could be possible, never say never and all that, but I have never heard of it, and I've been underground in two worlds since I was eighteen. I'm thirty-eight, man. Twenty years and I've not heard of it. There could be so many different theories—"

"Could he be Segregated?"

"Possibly. More than likely, yeah. Something went wrong maybe, an accident. He could genuinely be Fated to her, maybe you three are an exception or something. Maybe he's Fated to another version of her, if there are more than two of her. I can't tell you any more than that. This is an unknown," he said.

Joshua nodded and finished his drink. "Thank you."

"No worries, I have to dash, I have an appointment across town. Good luck, my friend. You'll get there," Christian said. They both shook hands, and Joshua watched him exit the room.

He needed to get back, and fast. He wondered if he could Declare and pass out all at once. He needed alcohol.

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Joshua never believed in magic or spirits or the supernatural. As he stared at the bottle of rum in front of him and thought about the ridiculous amount of information he'd been given that afternoon, he wondered if it could be true after all. He downed one glass, swiftly poured himself another one and stared at his phone. It was his own phone, as much as he wished he had That Joshua's so he could contact Amelia.

He stared at the photos of him and Emilia and downed another glass. The alcohol was slowly getting to him with each passing minute. The mirror above his mantelpiece was suddenly calling to him. He stood up and stared into it.

He needed to shave; the stubble was nearing beard length. He couldn't remember the last time he shaved, but time was relative to him. Something he worked out fairly quickly from the other Drifters was that until his decision was made, he was twenty-six until he Declared.

He'd been twenty-six for at least a couple of years, he estimated. His eyes looked dog-tired, he looked haunted. Yet the only thing wrong with him was that he missed Amelia, even if she hated him.

He tried it, despite how ridiculous it sounded: "My Declaration is that I wish to stay in the other world where my Fated One is."

Nothing happened, nothing felt different. But he didn't expect it to, because Joshua knew it was as ridiculous as it sounded and probably looked.

He poured and downed another rum, neat. He didn't have time for mixers, he didn't care. Half the bottle was gone, and he felt a bit sick. Everything was surreal, the floor was a little closer. The bile twisted his stomach into a tight knot...

He stared at his Knot as he downed one more rum. Three-quarters of the bottle gone.

The Knot was so intricate, the little lines in the middle were wound tightly on each other. It represented a Celtic Heart Knot; the shading made the shape more prominent. Joshua smiled at it: he remembered reading when he got the Art that the Celtic Love Knot was meant to symbolise two interlocking hearts, representing the love between two people.

He loved Amelia, he concluded. Whether it was the Knot Art and being Fated, he didn't care. He loved her, even if she didn't feel the same. He would make his Declaration until he got to wake up and stay in her world, and he would spend the rest of his life making her happy. He knew she was convinced of Owen, and if making her happy meant he had to be rejected and imprisoned or segregated so she could live her life being happy without him, then he would do that.

He hoped it wouldn't come to that, but he'd do it in a heartbeat.

Another rum, another inch closer the floor became.

He didn't count because he couldn't properly, but it must have been a couple of minutes until his brain and body started warming up. The rum was still giving him a buzz, but he felt the orgasmic euphoria melting him.

The moment lasted for a little longer than he remembered, and he wondered if she was stressed as well.

"I want to be with you," he whispered.

Then something happened, he felt a slight buzz and he thought he heard 'where are you' being uttered around him like some weird spatial audio.

He glanced around him, but nothing was there.

'What's happening?'

There was nothing around him.

Was it the drink?

He didn't want to move his hand in case it was the tether, but that would be crazy, he deduced.

"Amelia," he whispered.

The moment finished.

She must have taken her hand away, Joshua realised. The tether was severed.

Salty, mournful streams ran down his face as he removed his fingers from his tattoo and devoured the rest of the rum from the bottle.

"I want to stay in the other world. I want to live there!" he yelled when the bottle was empty. He was on his knees, but he didn't know when or how he got there.

"I want Amelia," he slurred.

The carpet beneath him suddenly became very inviting, and he laid down on his side, phone in front of him, a photo of Emilia. He knew it wasn't her, but it looked like her and that's all he needed as his eyes began succumbing to the alcohol.

"I just want her," he cried.

He realised that the government may have chosen her for him, but he knew there was some sort of chemical magic going on. He was so far gone, he knew, he was so in love with her. Everything about her made him forget about Emilia, and he had fallen hard and fast.

Whatever the truth behind the Fated One was, he didn't care, because he knew it was a mixture of magic and chemistry. After all, what was magic without some sort of science behind it, and what was science without magic?

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