The Screen That Separates Us (Markipkier x Tabathie)

Chapter 8

After a while of almost throwing up because of gross fan art we got, Mark and I said our goodbyes before logging off of Skype.

I yawn and stand, stretching slightly. I figure I'd just edit and post the video tomorrow, and that's be good. Seeing as it's now about 9:00 over here. Whereas it was about 6:00 over on Marks end of the glorious land of cheeseburgers.

After a minute or two, I walk to my bed, change out of my clothing into my jamies, and cuddle up under my blanket. After sighing contently, I fall into a deep slumber.

Time skipuuuuuuu brought uou you by Mark's v-line.

I wake up 5 minutes before my alarm goes off. So rather than go back to sleep, I pull my phone out and scroll through facebook. I read some of the things my friends posted, and scroll down enough to see the video Mark and I made together.

I yawned, preemptively turned off my alarm clock, and clicked on the video, watching it.

Every-so-often when one of us would say something weird, our face-cams would become enlarged and our faces morphed. I giggled helplessly at the 'Lord of Oreos' comment I made, and how I turned into an Oreo with a crown on it.

After the video was finished I scrolled down to the comments section. Most of it was full of people poking fun at one of us or both of us. A smaller part was saying how we'd be perfect together, and a larger part, mainly from Mark's fanbase, was telling me to keep away from Mark, because he's theirs.

I roll my eyes at those comments, and sit up from my bed. As I go to stand, I feel a wave of nausea, and I run towards the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet. After a minute, I wipe my mouth with a piece of toilet paper, and flush the toilet.

I stood up and walked over to the sink, washing my face, and brushing my teeth. After a minute, I spit out the toothpaste and rinse out my mouth. I slowly make my way to my kitchen, a notification ringing on my phone, and grab a glass of water. I slowly sip at the water, and pull out some leftover rice from Chinese a day ago, and heat it up.

While the rice is heating, I pull out my phone to see a number I don't recognize. I open the message and see:

You better stay away from him. He's mine.
Jk. Jk. This is Mark.

I looked at my phone in confusion before typing out,

How did you get my phone number?!
Stalker.

The timer for my rice beeped and I slide my phone into my pocket, picking up my rice and water, making my way to my recording room.

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Sorry this one is shorter than the last one, but I'll write more in study hall today, if I get any ideas!

Love you guys! Homo or no homo! ~Taba ^~^