You're Up Awfully Late {Septiplier}

Just for the Delay

"Mark! Come on!" Felix yells down the hallway of the hotel, finger pressed against the button to keep the elevator door open.

"I'm coming!" Mark calls, jogging across the terrible olive carpet. A stuffed suitcase trails behind him, the zipper straining to keep the contents inside. On his back, a backpack bounces with each stride, stuffed as well.

Inside the elevator, Jack tucks his small suitcase in the back most corner, away from the door and the elevator controls. It presses uncomfortably into the back of his knees, digging into his muscles in a terrible way, but he tries to shuffle into it a bit more to make room for the approaching American.

Felix mans the elevator controls. With a suitcase nearly as big as he is, both in size and weight, he leaves it behind him, a little careless as he focuses on the buttons. His hands are nearly lost in the sleeves of his pastel hoodie, his messy blonde bangs peeking out from the raised hood.

Ken has the misfortune of being stuffed behind Felix and his monstrous luggage. He presses himself into the corner, having only a small duffle bag to maneuver. He allows Felix to take more of his space when Mark enters the elevator, sleepily passive as he scratches the thick, dark stubble on his cheeks.

Mark cramps himself into the elevator, lugging his suitcase inside. The space has only enough room for all of their things, and the four YouTubers are forced to crowd together, shoulder to shoulder with luggage digging into their thighs.

Mark leans to allow the elevator door to slide closer, nearly getting his shirt caught in the closing silver gates. It slowly descending, bringing the four men down to the lobby.

"Are you really planning on braving the Boston winter in just a T shirt, Mark?" Ken asks, nodding at Mark's black, hotdog shirt.

"Dude, I wore this to bed last night," Mark laughs. "I'll find a way to survive to the airport. You guys are lucky I even have pants on."

"And real pants at that!" Jack comments, noting Mark's blue jeans. "Unlike some of us," he smirks, nodding to Ken's sweatpants.

"I got up ten minutes ago, man," Ken explains, shrugging his shoulders. The duffle bag slips against his thick coat, sliding with a bit of static. "Not all of us got up two hours early so we could dress like we're going on a date at a hipster coffee shop."

Jack rolls his eyes, but he instinctively tugs on his beanie, pulling it tighter over his green bangs. "Isn't fer the fashion. I had to wear a hat! My hair is a mess."

"At least you were here on time," Felix mentions, glancing at Mark.

"I made it!" Mark counters.

The doors slide open, and Mark nearly falls out, stumbling over himself while tugging his suitcase with him. Felix escapes second, knocking his luggage against the side of the elevator on his way out. Jack motions for Ken to leave first, and the Southern follows Felix. Jack steps out as the doors slide closed again, his wheels narrowly passing the threshold.

"Can you flag down a taxi, Ken?" Felix asks, half way to the desk.

Ken nods, handing his room card over to the Swede. He easily moves to the front door, weighted down only by his sleepiness.

Mark strides to the front desk, fishing for his key card, leading the line of YouTubers. The three hand over four room keys to the woman behind the desk, who smiles brightly.

"How was your stay?" she asks politely, glancing at the cards and typing on her computer.

Mark opens his mouth to speak, but Ken speaks first, talking loudly across the lobby, "Guys? I'm not sure we are going to be leaving any time soon."

When the sliding doors open, the lobby is invaded by the freezing cold. Fluffy, white snow flakes flutter down from the sky, covering the outside in a white blanket. Thick clouds cover the sky, dropping the snow onto the city.

"It wasn't supposed to start snowing until tonight," the woman mentions, frowning.

Felix cusses in Swedish under his breath. "Everyone check your flight."

The men pull out their cellphones, tapping on the bright screens to find their flight information. Jack is the first one to sigh, tugging nervously on the sleeves of his blue hoodie.

"Mine's delayed until tomorrow," Jack mumbles, frowning.

"Same," the three others chime in.

"The storm is supposed to break tomorrow morning," the woman mentions, looking at her computer screen.

"Please tell me you have a few rooms for us tonight," Mark nearly begs.

She gives a bit of a frown, clicking furiously. "I only have two room available. They both only have one queen bed. I'm sorry. A lot of people chose to add an extra night."

"No, it's okay," Felix assures, glancing at the other men. "We'll take them. We can bunk together."

The woman nods. "Just give me a moment."

Ken joins them at the counter before asking, "How are we dividing up?"

"Rock paper scissors?" Jack offers, attempting to lighten the mood.

Felix gives a bit of a chuckle, but shakes his head. "I'll bunk with Ken."

Ken rolls his eyes. "You just want the person with the least amount of stuff."

Felix shrugs. "This big ass suitcase has to go somewhere."

"You okay with bunking together, Jack?" Mark asks, looking over to the Irishman.

The green haired man nods. "It doesn't bother me any."

"And you're all set for the night," the woman says, sliding two key cards across the marble desk.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Ken replies with a smile, taking the two cards.

"Please, enjoy your delay by taking advantage of some of the amenities at this hotel," she offers.

"We'll try," Ken nods, turning on his heels to begin his journey to a new room, bringing the others with him.