With Whom We Spend Our Lives [septiplier]

WHOM - week 27

Jack's feet pounded the pavement, the sun hot on his back. He was running. He didn't know why he was running. He didn't know where he was running to, he didn't know where he was running from. Los Angeles sped by him in a blur of cars and restaurants. He didn't know where he was going.

He wasn't all that surprised when he wound up at the front of Mark's apartment building. There was no place in LA Jack knew better. He buzzed himself in, running up the steps. It felt like he'd never stop running. It felt like he'd never start thinking.

Unlocking Mark's door, Jack saw his suitcase packed and ready to go. It was just as he'd left it. Jack gripped the handle, pulling it through the door. He gave one last glimpse into the empty apartment. The kitchen, where he'd cooked dinner while Mark was busy recording. The studio, where he'd been making and editing his videos for the past month. The living room. His eyes lingered on the couch. He'd miss it, almost.

Jack let the door fall shut.

Mark was still sitting in the plaza. He held the frozen yogurt with one hand, one of the spoons in the other. The second spoon was left abandoned on the table.

He'd figured that Jack wouldn't be coming back. God, of all the things that could go wrong. He had to go and blow it, didn't he? This whole thing was his fault and he was so stupid to think otherwise. Mark looked down at his phone, expecting a text of apology, or at least one telling him off.

Nothing.

Mark took another bite of the yogurt.

"This is so fuckin' stupid. They were so cute, I don't get it. One fight and the whole thing's gone to shit. I don't get it," Felix said. One week had passed since Mark and Jack's public breakup. Felix was sitting at his computer, a skype call open. Ken nodded on the other line.

"Yeah. I mean, relationships don't always last forever, but I just hope this doesn't change things," Ken said. "They were really close friends."

"I just can't believe I had to find this out from a stream," Felix said.

"You're still upset about that?" Ken said. "Dude, it was like, half a year ago."

"I know, I just... forget it," Felix said. "Have you seen Mark or Jack since?"

"Nah, I've been kinda busy," Ken said from the computer. He shifted in his chair. "Have you?"

"Not yet. I might head down today, see what really happened behind the all that media bullshit. Videos are trending, bro."

"Yeah, I saw that. What they were saying was really weird. Something about laundry."

"Beats me," Felix said. "Well, I'm gonna go. Talk to ya soon, okay," Felix said, turning off the camera.

"Yeah, bye," Ken said to an empty screen. "Cool. Good chat."

Felix stood from the chair, looking over at the clock. It was almost noon. "Don't know how long those fuckers sleep in," he muttered, looking around the room. "I could call them?" He said, more of a question than anything. "Eh, I'll wake 'um up. Sleep is for the weak, right Jackaboy?" He threw on a jacket, shutting the door behind him.

He knocked on Jack's door. It was the apartment where he'd lived before moving in with Mark. Felix figured he'd find him here after the shit hit the fan. Jack's videos now had a different backdrop. Anyway, most people don't want to live with exes. Makes things awkward. Felix waited a couple of seconds before knocking again.

Jack swung open the door. Felix's eyebrows raised at the sight. His hair was a mess. Bags were under his eyes, but they were open wide, as if he'd drank six cups of coffee and was working on a seventh. His shirt was wrinkled and he was still wearing pajama pants. His hair was so faded it was looking white. "Hi," he said.