@blaine-d-anderson gets a starter:
Hunter sighed and checked the hour on the clock by the wall for the tenth time in less than five minutes. “Come on, Bobby! Get your ass out already so we can go to eat. You’ve tried like twenty shirts already. Pick one and let’s get the hell out of here.” The man inside the dresser, his younger brother, Bobby, went on saying he needed the perfect shirt for his date with Sheryl that night. “If things go well you might not need to worry about that, because you should be wearing it shortly, little brother” Hunter replied with a chuckle, to which Bobby responded it was so him to talk that way, since he had yet to find his special person, unlike Bobby, who ahad already found it, or her.
Hunter looked down at the mark on his wrist and huffed. “That whole thing is crap. I don’t believe in this whole ‘meant to be’. You make your own destiny, brother. And I’m not about let a stupid mark to decide mine.” He stood up and put the magazine he was seeing down. “You know what? I’ll meet down at the food court, okay? I’ll save us a table while you finish here with your perfect outfit.” He walked out the store and headed down the mechanical stairs to go to where the food court was. He felt a burn on his wrist but paid no mind to it, simply rubbing his arm on his side as he looked around for an empty table, or even at what he could order to eat.
“Shit” he muttered when the slight burn turned into pain, and he was about to check his arm, when he bumped face first with another person. “Damn it- I apologize. I wasn’t looking-”
00:00:00
