The Septiplier Affair

Part 1

Mark crossed the second floor of the large mall, trying to hide his discomfort as he asked Sean coolly.  "Are you sure about her? I mean I'm not trying to judge, but she could only like you because your Jacksepticeye".  Sean grabbed his arm to stop him, confidently replying.  "I understand your concern, Mark, but she's not like that. I love her".  Mark wanted to be anywhere else, hearing anything else.  Leaning back against the railing, Mark disguised his sorrow with dreaded concern, replying.  "Then I'm happy for you".  Sean smiled, and Mark forced a smirk even though a knife was twisting in his heart.  He thought he had made his intentions clear every time they were together... Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Mark turned his attention to his phone, saying with forced gusto.  "Shall we alert the fans that the ship has officially sunk"?  Sean moved around to Mark's side, happily answering.  "Take a picture posing like we just had a bad break-up".  Mark chuckled to himself, raising his phone up. 

After leaving the mall, Mark dropped Sean off at his hotel, before heading home.  He felt numb entering his apartment, but the second the door closed behind him....Mark lost it.  Rushing to the kitchen table, Mark swiped his arm over the table knocking everything off.  Then in his frustration he flipped the table and let out a roar of rage as he fell to his knees.  Years of flirting and dropping hints, and this is where it landed him.  Friend zoned.  Dropping his head into his hand, he felt the tears stream down his face.  His chest ached with an almost unbearable pain, and no amount of rubbing his chest was making it any better.  He lost Sean.  He felt so shattered and numb, that he didn't hear or even see Chica, until her cold nose nudged his arm.  Sniffling, Mark wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face into her soft fur. 

Despite the break-up, Mark noticed Sean would continue to act like nothing changed.  It was like Jack and Sean were two different people.  Mark could continuing to test the waters during the panels and gameplays with Jack.  While behind the scenes, Sean made it more then clear that they were nothing more then close friends.  Sharing private conversations about his growing relationship with Signe.  It was a routine Mark fell right into line with.  He was Markiplier with Jacksepticeye for the enjoyment of the fans....and Mark fischbach, Sean Mcloughlin's best friend in reality.  He was happy to play the roles, just to keep Sean close in one form or another.  He struggled to keep the roles separate...until that night.

Mark was stretched across his sofa with Chica, watching a movie before he would head off to bed.  He had to make sure he could get ready for the panel tomorrow.  When his phone started to ring.  The caller ID flashed "Sean".  Mark answered, and Sean was inaudible to understand.  The more angry or passionate Sean got about something, the more he was damn near impossible to understand through his accent.  Sitting up, Mark tried to slow Sean down, by asking slowly and carefully.  "Sean, slow down. What's going on"?  He could hear Sean take a deep breath on the other side.  Sean then told him much clearer.  "Signe and I had a fight. Afterward, I needed a drink and... look can you pick me up"?  Mark climbed to his feet, searching around for his shoes and keys, replying anxiously.  "Sure. Where what bar are you at"?  The line was silent on Sean's end for a moment.  Mark waited for an answer, curiously wondering if he had lost connection.  "Sean"?  Sean sighed heavily on the other end, answering.  "I'm not at a bar. I'm at the courthouse. Long story short.... I may have started a fight".  Mark rolled his eyes, removing the phone from his cheek to silently mutter, "Irish".  Then putting the phone back, reassured Sean bluntly.  "I'll be there in about twenty minutes". 

When Mark arrived at the courthouse, he couldn't believe the condition Sean was in.  It was clear from the smell of Sean's breath that he had been drinking heavily.  Yet for as much as he had drank, he only stumbled when he walked.  Mark guessed it had something to do with his Irish blood...or just having a high tolerance to alcohol.  Whatever the reason, Mark didn't feel comfortable taking him back to his hotel room.  So being the good friend he was, he decided to take Sean back home in order to keep an eye on him.  On the way, Mark tried to prod what the fight had been about, but Sean shifted toward the window, refusing to answer the question.  Instead, Mark asked him curiously.  "What was the fight at the bar over"?  Sean snorted, replying giddily.  "I drank him under the table. Won fifty bucks. He was a sore loser".  Mark risked a quick glance at Sean, looking for injuries....but Sean didn't even have a scratch.  Chuckling, Mark asked.  "You must have knocked him out".  Sean shook his head, humbly saying.  "No. I just ducked".  Mark shook his head, smirking despite himself as they pulled into his driveway.       To be continued....