A Hell of a Time with Darkiplier

Party Like We're Gonna Die

Damien perked up when Mark came down the stairs but before he could say anything, Mark greeted everyone.

"Welcome! Welcome! One and all!" he belted out with a big, flashy smile, "My name is Markiplier. Thank you for joining me on this auspicious evening. So good to be surrounded by such good and trusted friends"

Damien struck his wording as odd but what he found even stranger was that he was  referring to himself as 'Markiplier'. It was his first stage name he USED to go by.

Damien found his attire to be weird, too but he wouldn't bring it up. He was just in a red robe but perhaps he was just trying to create a comfortable atmosphere.

It wasn't working.

"Not this evening it's not all about the poker. It's not all about me"

William muttered in Damien's ear, "Isn't it always, though?" he chuckled to himself.

Damien didn't respond. Was William's comment just a friendly jab or was their friendship still not amended just yet?

"It's about YOU" Mark pointed at them all, "So drink up and be merry! Life is for the living. And who knows? I could be dead tomorrow"

'What?' Damien didn't like that choice of words, 'Maybe  . .maybe he's just feeling sentimental?'

Mark started to laugh loudly. It was almost maniacal.

Damien took a sip of his champagne, though, to try and ease his tension.

Damien didn't remember much of what happened that evening.

He hadn't blacked out like that since college.

He only remembered snippets of playing beer pong and laughing with his friends, playing poker and  . . . did he ever talk to Mark once on his own?

Damien woke up around seven thirty. He had a blaring headache from his hangover but managed to get up and dressed. 

He didn't even remember when he had crawled into bed.

Whose bed was this?

He didn't remember what room he was in.

But he got dressed proper in his suit again and grabbed his cane, leaving the room.

He was surprised when the butler was waiting at his door with a drink of. . .something.

"Oh hello Mr. Mayor! I hope you had a good evening. Perhaps I can interest you in some seltzer with cocaine? I find it's the best remedy in the morning for a hangover."

Damien just stared, taken aback, "Oh . . .. uh . . .no thank you"

'I didn't know Mark was doing drugs. Had he been doing them for a while? Was that why Celine left and he became a hermit?'

He tried not to think about it too much, though, "Do you know if Mark is in his room? Is he awake?"

The butler bowed slightly and smiled, "Master does like to sleep in. We shouldn't bother him. Come down for breakfast when you're ready, Mr. Mayor"

Damien watched him go downstairs and he took his chance to head over to Mark's room. It used to be Damien and Celine's parents room but since taking over the manor, Actor had claimed it for himself and Celine . . . before she left him.

Damien knocked on the door firmly, "Mark? Are you awake? I'd like to talk if you have the time."

It was quiet but Damien listened carefully.