CHAPTER FOUR
Claire’s P.O.V.
Out of the car. Through a doorway. Up the stairs. Into the apartment. Mark and I were both anxious to be back in our home, without our friends, for once. We both seemed to sense how the other was feeling. Mark had decided to wear a charcoal gray v-neck and jeans that day, knowing I had a thing for v-necks. I wore shorts that showed off my newest tattoo, knowing that it would make him weak. After the apartment door was locked behind us and I had put my purse down, Mark didn’t hesitate to make a move. He pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms around me. I hugged him back, and he smiled.
“You look incredibly sexy today,” he admitted.
“You do too,” I decided, glancing at the bit of his skull tattoo that peeked out from under his shirt sleeve.
“Thanks,” he said, tightening his grip on my waist. I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his, unable to wait any longer. I knew he was stalling to mess with me, and I couldn’t believe he had lasted that long. We kept PDA to a minimum, even if we were just around close friends, so we hadn’t done more than hold hands all day.
“Damn, you don’t mess around,” he laughed, pulling away for a second.
“You’re right, I don’t,” I grinned. Apparently he didn’t mess around either, because he then picked me up and went back to kissing me, my arms around his neck and his hands low. He carried me to our room, where he laid me down on our bed. He got on top of me and kissed my neck, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist. He tugged at the bottom of my shirt and I let him pull it over my head. He tossed it aside and resumed kissing me, his lips moving from my lips down to my chest and then my stomach. His eyes roamed my body and paused at the button on my shorts. He undid it as well as the zipper and he pulled them off of me, admiring my matching animal print bra and underwear for a moment, as well as my ink that was now in plain view. But after a second, I realized that he was wearing too much. We rolled over so that I was straddling him. I didn’t hesitate to pull off his shirt so I could look at his flawless body and feel the muscles he had worked hard to get. And then there were his tattoos that somehow made him even sexier…I kissed him hard and when he deepened the kiss, I worked on his belt. I wanted Mark, and I didn’t feel like stalling any more than I had to. He seemed to be on the same page, so he reached for the bottom drawer of the bedside table. He retrieved a little square package from it. A minute later, he tore it open.
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The sound of the alarm on Mark’s phone almost startled me. I must have been somewhere between awake and asleep when it started to go off. My eyes slowly fluttered open and I felt a body move beside me. It was Mark, reaching for his phone and cursing under his breath when he couldn’t find the off button. About thirty seconds later, the sound ceased, and by then I had propped myself up to see what was going on.
“Got it,” Mark chuckled softly.
“Congrats,” I answered sarcastically.
“Good morning. And nice shirt, by the way,” Mark commented. I looked down and realized I was wearing one of his t shirts.
“Thanks. Good morning to you, too.” I yawned and ran my hands through my hair. “So, what was the alarm for? What are you doing today?”
“I’m going to Maker Studios in a couple hours. I have a video shoot to do,” he explained, and I remembered him telling me about it about a week ago.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
“Yeah, I guess I better get up. Do you need to take a shower or anything?”
“You can take one first, since you have things to do,” I decided.
“We could always take one together,” Mark suggested, winking at me obnoxiously.
“Or not,” I shot him down, a smile on my face as I did so. “Just go and get ready. I’m going to stay in bed for a few more minutes.” I knew I would eventually have to get up and get ready too, because I went places with Mark to support him whenever I could. I always told him I could stay home if he wanted me to, because I honestly felt annoying sometimes, tagging along. But he welcomed me to join him, especially now. It was a chance for us to get out and enjoy the city that we now called home, and I was thankful that Mark had so many chances to do so.
Mark’s P.O.V.
I got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom. I caught a glance of my reflection in the mirror before I turned the water on to let it heat up. My hair was a crazy mess, unsurprisingly. I ran my fingers through it and then realized it didn’t matter - it was just going to get wet anyways. I checked the water and it was hot, just the way I liked it. I turned on the showerhead and stripped out of my clothes, throwing them onto the floor. I stepped into the shower and the contact of the water on my skin made me shudder. The warmth was shocking at first, but I quickly adjusted. I shampooed my hair, rinsed, conditioned, and rinsed again. I moved on to body wash and once I was soap free, I shut the water off and wrapped myself up in a towel. I felt clean and refreshed, and I was ready for whatever the day had in store for me.
Claire got ready and we had a late breakfast together. Before we knew it, it was time to head out. We went out to the car, and as usual I got into the driver’s seat and she took the passenger side. I put the address of our destination into the GPS and it led me to Maker Studios, which was where I was told I needed to be. Claire and I entered the building hand in hand until we had to separate. I went into a private room while she stayed behind to wait for the filming to begin. The room was basically just a place for me to hang out until everyone was ready for me. It was simple, with a red leather couch, a table, a huge rug, and a mirror. Nobody else was in the room, so I sat down and got out my phone to pass the time, as I had been told that someone would be with me shortly. Sure enough, a man with dark, curly hair entered the room after a couple minutes. I was told that he was the production assistant. He introduced himself as Mike and I introduced myself as well. We shook hands and he mentioned that he was a huge fan of my videos. He was nice and maybe a little nervous, which was normal. He clearly was a fan of mine, so I didn’t mind. At least not until things started getting weird.
I filled out some basic paperwork and when I was done, Mike asked for a selfie. I gladly took one with him and a woman joined us in the room to touch me up with some makeup. That was one of the strangest things I had been trying to get used to in L.A. - when I worked with professionals, everything about making videos was so much bigger and grander than what I did at home.
“I just sent this to you,” Mike said, referring to the picture we had taken together. “To what, Twitter?” I asked, not really thinking much into it.
“No, I just texted it to you.” Wait, he texted it to me? But how did he have my number?
“Oh,” I said plainly, not sure how to respond. I glanced at the paperwork I had just filled out and realized he must have just gotten my number from that. How…creepy. No offense to him or any of my fans, but I didn’t necessarily want them to have my number…that was what social media was for. I tried to blow it off, though. I continued to talk to him until the producer called me out. I asked her about Mike, wondering who he was and letting her know that he got my phone number from the documents I had filled out. She assured me that he was only a P.A. and that there was nothing to worry about, so I went out to the green screen and we began to film. I was asked how I got started on Youtube as well as other questions about myself and my channel, but it wasn’t easy to answer them, not with Mike there. He kept interrupting me. After my first question, he cut me off, showing me part of a video I had done and suggesting that I talk in a deeper voice like the one I had used for the video. It seemed really unnecessary, and the producer said I only needed to do what I felt comfortable with. Mike stepped back after that and I continued.
Unfortunately, he didn’t stop. He interrupted me again and again, giving me suggestions on how to talk and telling me to be louder because he loves my voice. I knew he was a fan and I should be nice to him, but he was being incredibly rude. Nobody else on set agreed with any of his advice he was trying to give me, and it was getting out of hand. The more he spoke, the more anger boiled inside me. This shoot was supposed to be fun, but it wasn’t anymore. Eventually, the producer couldn’t take the commentary either.
“I’m sorry, is that your friend?” she asked.
“No. I don’t know him,” I promised her, hoping she realized that I was just as annoyed as she was.
“No, we are, we’re friends,” Mike argued, stepping forward.
“No, we just met,” I reminded him, amazed at him. He continued to argue with me and before I knew it, security grabbed him and the producer began apologizing to me. Mike yelled and struggled, trying to get me to convince everyone that we knew each other, but he was taken away. I was still angry, but I knew I needed to keep my cool. There was still a little bit left to shoot at that point. I took a deep breath and turned back to the camera, but then Mike ran back into the room and went straight for me. He held out his arms like he wanted a hug, and that absolutely put me over the edge. He had my information and he was oddly obsessed with me. I didn’t want him touching me or talking to me anymore. I couldn’t be nice to him, even if he was a fan. He was an exception. When he got close to me, my arm went out in front of me, balled up into a fist. But very quickly I realized that I was in a room full of people, and I couldn’t let everyone see how angry and uncontrollable I could get. Before my arm was completely extended, I opened up my palm so I wouldn’t hurt him if I accidentally made contact.
“No! Seriously, STOP!” I warned him, doing my best not to yell. I was so close to losing control, to going into Darkiplier mode, and I knew if he laid a hand on me, I probably wouldn’t be able to stop myself. Luckily, security came back in and retrieved him before he could do anything else. The producer told them to make sure he didn’t have any of my information with him, and I took big, deep breaths to cool down. A minute or two later, we went back to shooting the last bit that we needed. A card was held up for me with a short phrase, and I was asked to read it in front of the camera.
“I just got pranked,” I read, and it hit me. None of it was real. Not the video, not the workers, not even Mike. He wasn’t really a crazy, obsessed fan, he was just a normal guy. Even so, when he came back in the room to reveal his true self, I felt strange around him. I still didn’t really like him somehow, but I played along. I laughed and smiled and even thanked Nacho Punch for letting me be in one of their prank videos. I was thankful that I was a decent actor, because it seemed to save me this time.
“What the heck happened in there? You looked like you were going to punch that guy,” Claire realized once we were back in the car, on our way home.
“I was going to punch him. I was getting really frustrated and pissed off, so I had to hold back. If he would have touched me, I would have hurt him,” I admitted.
“You haven’t been like that in a long time. It’s been months, and now it happens in public in front of cameras and a bunch of people. That’s really dangerous, Mark,” Claire told me, and I rolled my eyes, annoyed.
“You think I don’t know that? I wasn’t trying to get mad, Claire, it just happened! I stopped myself, so I don’t see why it matters. It was one time, and nothing really bad came out of it,” I raised my voice, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Great, the anger was coming back. Just what I needed while I was trying to drive.
“I know, Mark, I know. You handled it well, I’m just…worried. I thought we had this thing figured out.”
“We do have it figured out. Whenever it happens you can calm me down. You just need to be in sight, or on my mind, or within arm’s reach, and I’ll be fine. I wasn’t even remotely looking your way when it happened today, so all I had was myself. That’s not always enough,” I rambled.
“Okay. Well, I guess I have an excuse to come with you to events like this, then,” Claire figured. I nodded and turned onto our street and then into the parking lot. We got out of the car and went back into our apartment, where it wouldn’t matter how upset I got. But, of course, I was fine, then. That was how life worked; it wasn’t fair.
Hey guys! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoyed it. I actually went back and re-watched the prank video that part of this chapter was based on while I wrote it. Obviously it's not exactly like the video, but hopefully some parts are at least similar. If you'd like to see the video again (or for the first time, if you haven't seen it), I put it in the multimedia section. As always, please vote if you liked the chapter and leave me some feedback and comments :)