Psychopath: a Markiplier Fanfiction

Chapter One - The Upload

     He was late. He was late. It was 12:10 and still no new video. Alexas heart began to race. What if he was dead? What if he blocked her or something? Oh my god, please post already! She thought to herself as she bit down on her bottom lip, her phone slightly shaking in her hands, eyes staring intensely at the YouTube app. Maybe she should refresh. That must be it! She simply needed to refresh and...
 
     "There!" She let out a long relieved sigh, slumping back on her bed. He had posted. It was about his brother or something, a topic she didn't really care about. But she would watch it anyways, just to see him. To see that gorgeous face, hear that velvet like voice... She shivered at the thought, a slow grin spreading on her lips. He truely was an angel. Her angel.

  - -

    Mark Fischbach yawned as he rolled onto his back, stretching his arms out to the cieling. He smacked his lips, scratching at his hip. He glanced over at the alarm clock that sat on the bedstand. 4:30 AM. He had woken up before his alarm but he didn't really care. He loved making his fans happy, and if that meant getting up super duper early, then so be it.

    He threw the covers off and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Although he loved his job, thirty more minutes of sleep did sound appealing... He shook his head. Enough of that. He loved his job.

    He slipped his feet into his fuzzy pink slippers, pushing himself up from his bed. He had to pull up his pajama pants, mentally reminding himself to buy a smaller size next time. He had been losing so much weight lately, it was insane.

    But not as insane as when he turned on his phone and checked Instagram. His DM box now held the large number of 321 new messages. He had turned off the post-notifications a long time ago, since the constant vibration of incoming messages was ridiculous. He loved his fans yes, but couldn't they just give him a little space..?

    He cast the thought aside as he set the phone back down. "Enough of that, Markimoo," He mumbled to himself as he lumbered to the kitchen. Yet that number was still imprinted into his mind as he opened the cupboard for a mug.
 
    321 people? 321 in the short hour that he got to rest? He knew his fanbase was steadily growing and to be honest it was intimidating. So many people depended on him. So much pressure rested on his shoulders. Just to do what? Act stupid in front of a camera? Talk to a camera so a bunch of people he didn't even know could watch? Spectate? Judge?
 
    He rubbed at his temple, taking the mug as the coffee maker dripped the last of the coffee into his mug. "Stop it Mark," He told himself firmly as he took a swig from his mug. "You're being stupid. They love you."

    He headed back to his room once he quickly gulped down the rest of his coffee and set his mug in the sink. He'd wash it later. Right now he had to get to work.
 
    Standing in front of his opened closet he grabbed a random plain grey shirt and slipped it on over his chest. He quickly ran his fingers through his "floof" and looked around for his glasses.

    "Dammit where can they be.." He muttered as he opened the drawer to the bedstand. He sighed and slammed it close. He'd just have to wear contacts for this one.

    He walked quickly over to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, grabing the small container that held his contacts, and quickly put them in. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the feeling.

    He gave a deep breath studying his face in the mirror. He looked decent enough, but that didn't matter right? Looks weren't what the fans kept watching his videos for right? He gulped and quickly shook his head again.

    "Stop it Mark! Stop it with these idiotic thoughts," He growled under his breath. "Get ahold of yourself."
 
    He couldnt delay any longer, or he would be late. And the last thing he wanted was a bunch of angry fans. He walked down the hall to his "office". It was where he recorded all of his videos, where he edited them, as well. This is where the magic happened.

    He plopped down in his swivel chair and cracked his knuckles. "Showtime," He murmured as he turned on his computer.

    What should he play? Maybe another Huniepop, the fans were digging that game. Perverts... He thought, but once again he pushed the thought away. What was wrong with him today? They weren't perverts, it was just a good game. At least that's what he told himself.

     "I'll just go talk to someone I have low hearts with, like the cat chick," He said out loud to no one in particular, but since his job was to sit in front of and talk to a camera, this wasn't really weird to him.
 
    He opened up Huniepop and looked at the camera, then back to the game. He set up the recording systems on the computer and turned on the microphone. He looked at the camera giving a sigh and hovered over a button on his keyboard.
     
      "Five.. Four.. Three..Two.." He whispered and then pressed the button, immediately smiling at the camera and giving a small wave.
   
     "Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier and today we're going to be playing another episode of Huniepop, so keep those eyes and ears covered! Things might get spiiicccy!"
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