your name on my wrist (Septiplier)

( the air begins to feel to feel a little thin )

He was 25, and still he hadn't gotten it. His wrist, empty and unused, a sore sight to the world. He hadn't told his fans, almost no one if he had to be honest, only his close family and friends.

Mark Fischbach hadn't found his soulmate.

Sure, he had had close relationships, but no one of those turned out to be anything more than that. Almost every day, he got mails from people telling him that they had found their soulmate through the community, and that they wanted to thank him for letting this to happen.

When you touch the wrist of your soulmate, your name appear on their wrist. When they realize this, their name appear on yours. No one knows why this is so, it has always been there, always right next to mankind.

Whenever you could see his wrists during let's plays, he explained that he had blurred the name out because of privacy, and everyone respected that. But they didn't know that he didn't have a name to blur out. He often wore long sleeved flannels when meeting fans, or wristbands. Sometimes he said that he had covered it up with make up. They believed him though, and didn't pry any further.

But as time passed, he would see other youtubers and friends celebrating their find of soulmates, and it pulled him down silently. Of course, he was happy for them, but the blank space on his wrist always reminded him how he had it.

And then there was fucking Jack. Jack, or his real name, Sean, had been on his mind a lot recently, and it was making him go crazy. He hadn't even met the irishman in real life, but his mind and body was already going nuts when he talked to him or even thought about him. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he had found his soulmate, but no, Jack already has a soulmate.

It happens sometimes, that one can have a soulmate that doesn't have you back. In that case, you either live alone in your whole life, or find someone in the same situation. The latter case though is extremely rare.

"... Fuck." Mark let out a deep sigh, his head resting in his palms. He glanced up to his screen, looking at the game he would soon upload. Or, at least, thought he would upload.

It was a pixelated game, the name of it 'Where's your name' and the story is pretty simple. At least for him. You play as the main character, a guy, that all his life has tried to find his soulmate, only to find her dead in the end. He then commits suicide in the end.

Mark couldn't take it.

As he saw the grave where the character's soulmate lied, his voice cracked and he just fell silent. Tears started to fall, and he just broke apart. He continued the game, just wanting to see the end. But as the rope found its way into the screen, he shut it down and put the footage in the 'never upload' map.

He was shaking. Shaking badly. The tears had stopped luckily, but he couldn't stop the shaking. He bit his lower lip, enough to draw blood and quickly took up his phone as the shaking had decreased a bit. The half-Korean went into twitter and quickly wrote a tweet and sent it out.

No second video today. Sorry

Mark dropped the phone as the shaking came back, clenching his fists, closing his eyes. His heartbeat was rapidly beating in his chest. "Please stop.."

Then that god damn skype ringtone started to play on his computer screen.

He slammed his fists against the desk, letting out a pained whimper as the shaking increased. Mark looked up, his blurred vision not seeing who the caller was without his glasses. He reached out for his glasses, quickly putting them on and saw the caller.