Jack was sitting at Mark's computer, more pissed off than ever. Why was Mark avoiding him? What the hell did he do to deserve to be treated like this? He pulled up his flight information, ready to change his return trip, when he leaned back in Mark's chair. He had planned on staying in L.A. for a week and worked hard over the past month stockpiling videos to surprise his best friend with a visit. He could tell Mark wasn't doing well lately and wanted to see his friend smile again. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and thought of all the times Mark had made him feel special, had given him a sense of purpose, and kept him going. He didn't understand what Mark was going through right now, but he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that whatever it was, it had shaken Mark to the core. And he wasn't about to give up and go home without at least trying. With renewed determination, he sat up straight and snagged the mouse, moving it quickly over the website.
When he made his changes, he called Felix. Like hell, was he going to let Mark walk away.
~*~
After spending about an hour talking with his Swedish friend, he decided to scrounge around in Mark's kitchen, looking for some food. There wasn't much in the fridge; Mark had undoubtedly planned ahead; it was practically empty. The cupboards fared a bit better as he found some cans of soup and other pantry items that would last a while in the dark.
Looking around the kitchen, he found what he needed to make a simple yet filling dinner. It didn't take long to heat up the can of stew he had found, and taking his dish of food to the table, he sat for a moment to let it cool as he looked around. The house was dark, save for the light in the current room, and the place felt cold and empty. Without Mark here, there was no life in the modest home. In the stillness of the night, he watched as dust slowly floated past in the moonlight. It was far too quiet, and he didn't like it. He almost felt like yelling to make some noise, but without Mark present, he didn't see the point. The sadness of the place was making his heart ache. He realized, sitting there, looking down at his bowl of soup, that he missed his best friend. He missed hearing his deep voice, his laughter. Seeing his beautiful eyes as they always lit up when he looked Jack's way. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to see his friend standing there so he could pull him into a tight hug and feel Mark's arms wrapped around his body. He wanted to hear the American's heartbeat while he wrapped his own arms around his friend's broad shoulders. A sob escaped his throat as the loneliness consumed him.
It was almost one am, and he was tired. His flight was early, around eight in the morning so that he wouldn't be getting much sleep, but it was important to get moving as quickly as possible. He just hoped that Felix could help him out.
Jack forced down the soup the best he could, but the sudden, overwhelming feeling of isolation had taken him by surprise and had dampened his appetite. Once he was done, he took his time washing the dishes he had used. He could have put them in the dishwasher, but the motions of washing them by hand gave his body something to do while his mind wondered.
He was trying to figure out what was wrong with Mark. What would cause him to suddenly quit his job and his passion and just up and leave? Also, why was Mark avoiding him at the same time? It was bad enough that Jack and Ally had been arguing lately. Ally, his girlfriend of almost two years, who was about his height, had hazel eyes, long, straight red hair, and lots of freckles, was still in Ireland. The stereotype of Irish descent, with the temper to accompany it. Lately, they were getting into spats about the smallest, stupidest thing. Constantly butting heads. He hoped to enjoy a week away and spend some time with Mark, but he ended up in his friend's house without him, and now he had to return. He was getting frustrated the more he thought about it.
After making sure the kitchen was clean, he dragged himself up to Mark's bedroom and stripped down to his briefs. He pulled the covers back and plopped down on the bed. Pulling himself in, he curled into the bedding, snuggling the soft pillow with his face. The aroma of Mark assaulted his sense of smell. He wrapped his arms around the pillow, wishing it was the American. He loved giving the man hugs and feeling the other's arms around him, but for the time being, he had to settle for the pillow as a substitute.
For the next four hours, his sleep was constantly interrupted by an overwhelming need Jack didn't understand other than emptiness. When his alarm went off in the morning, he was already awake but was still lying in Mark's bed, breathing in the scent of his best friend, wondering why he wasn't good enough anymore.
~*~
It was about noon as Mark made his way through London. He didn't have much of a plan, but he figured he could do a little sightseeing since he was here. Anything to get his mind off Jack and the ache in his chest. He wandered around aimlessly for a while and ended up in front of a bright red pub called The Ship and Shovell, a restaurant split in half, with one half of the pub on one side of the street and the other half on the other. The exterior was about as bright red as his hair, with black trim. Matching red and black barrels were sitting outside the place, with hanging plants adorning the windows. It sat just before a tunnel that was called The Arches Shopping. Mark planned to check out the tunnel filled with small shops after lunch.
The inside of the place was beautiful with its dark brown wood walls, lush red patterned carpet, and gold-colored ceiling. It was everything Mark imagined a British pub should look like. It wasn't too busy yet, and so he slipped in and got seated. He looked over the menu and found it had a great selection of sandwiches, many he'd never seen before, and also a nice selection of beer. Too bad he couldn't have any alcohol. He was sitting at a small booth, trying to decide on lunch, when he felt someone sit beside him. He looked up to find the last two people he'd expected sitting at his table.
"Felix? Marzia? ... What are you doing here?" Mark asked, very confused and then rather annoyed. Jack threatened to send Felix..., but he just didn't think he'd actually do it.
"We could ask you the same question, especially since we're the ones who live in this country when you don't," Felix said calmly from beside him. He didn't appear to be his normal self, and he looked at him in such a way that it felt like the Swedish man was trying to read his mind for answers.
"Didn't see my video? I'm taking a break for a while," Mark said with a half smile.
"We saw it. We don't understand why," Marzia said softly from across the table. She looked at him with genuine concern.
"I just ..." *Sigh* "Look, I just need to get away for a while, okay?" Mark tried to explain.
"No, it's not okay. You don't just up and leave Mark," Felix said.
The waitress walked over then, and Mark asked her for a few more minutes. His appetite was suddenly not what it was about 10 minutes ago. She gave Marzia and Felix menus after taking their drink orders. Mark sighed. It seemed he was having his meal with his unexpected guests.
"And why not, Felix?" Mark asked, looking over at his friend.
"Just tell me why, then? Don't think we haven't noticed how distant you've been lately," Felix said.
Mark ran his hands over his face and then through his hair. Should he even bother telling them about his feelings for Jack? Would it even make a difference? It's not like anything can be done about it. Taking a few minutes to think it over, he realized it might help him get over Jack if he told them everything and got it off his chest. He decided to let them into his secret.
Over the next hour, Mark explained to Felix and Marzia his feelings for the Irishman, his dreams that kept him going, and what triggered his departure. They were kind enough not to interrupt him and let him have his say. He barely touched his food and choked up multiple times. At one point, Felix pulled him into a bro hug, which he was grateful for. It was hard, but in the end, they seemed to understand.
"Damn, man, I had no idea," Felix said, his hand over Mark's shoulders.
"No one does; I mean, Wade and Bob kinda do. They know I fell in love, but they don't know who. Please don't say anything," Mark asked.
"No, of course not," Marzia said, and Felix nodded.
They finished their meal, paid, and left soon after. Mark promised them he'd keep in touch, and they offered their guest room if he needed a place to sleep, for which he was grateful. But he didn't want to impose and knew he had to get going. Eventually, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
~*~
On the train ride back to Brighton, with Marzia fast asleep, Felix made a phone call.
"Jack, yeah, I found him. I used a GPS tracker app. Just plug in his phone number, and you can find him anywhere. ... Yeah. Look, there's something you should know...".
YOU ARE READING
My Everything (Septiplier Story)
Fanfiction**This is a sequel!! This story continues from the end of Actual Boyfriends, written by Ashlee Geary. If you haven't read that story yet, you really should before starting this one! Thank you!!** ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~...
