Serein=-={SEPTIPLIER}

Numinous

"...What?"

"I asked if I could have one."

What the actual fuck. Last time Mark checked, this was goody-two-shoes teacher fucking boy. Not cancer inhaling badass flower guy.

"You uh- you, want one?"

"Cmon man if you're not going to give me one you can just say it."

"No uh-no it's fine." Mark fumbled around with the pack of cigarettes in his hand for a minute before he could grab one for Jack.

"Do you need a ligh-" Jack then flipped out a pink pastel lighter and lit his cig, pushing it between his lips.

"Thanks man."

Of course he has a pastel fucking pink lighter.

"Um- alrighty then. Okie dokie. Yep." Mark suddenly felt extremely awkward and wanted to shrink down and disappear into the woods.

"Dude, why are you acting like I just asked you if you could babysit my pet llama. I just wanted a cigarette to calm my anxiety." He took another drag, and held it in.
"First day jitters, am I right?"

Oh

Oh

"Ah, yeah. I guess." He uses cigarettes as coping with anxiety. Coolio.

This went on for a bit. More or so two weeks.

Jack would come behind the school at lunch, where Mark was already waiting. Mark would then get out two cancer sticks and they each would light one, smoke, and sit in comfortable silence.
This was okay, Mark thought. Yeah.

Mark never questioned the pastel sweaters, the flower crowns, the painted nails. It wasn't of his concerns.

One day after their daily smoking, Jack offered up something that made Mark drop his cig. Add another tally to the board.

"Hey, you want to come over after school today?" He said, while walking close to the woods and teetering on the edge of trimmed grass and weeds.

"Uh-wait- wh,. Well uh."

"Spit it out."

"..sure?"

Yeah, don't accept invitations from flower boys you've only been smoking with for a week.

They had walked to Jacks house in the rain, because Florida weather fucking sucks. Mark was walking like a badass without an umbrella, while Jack was splashing in all the puddles, holding his lady bug umbrella. Mark chose not to question it.
Walking up to the last house on the block, Mark noticed two things. One, every single window was open, and two, there were about seven locks on the door. Alrighty. Jack led the way to the door, and proceeded to pull out a string of keys to unlock every lock.

"Dude, what the fuck." Jack shifted uncomfortably, and continued to shove keys in different locks.

"Eh, my dad is super paranoid of robbers." Jack sighed and pushed open the door.

They walked up the stairs, and so far, the inside of the house didn't look like absolute Hell. It seemed nobody else was home, but Mark didn't ask about it. Jack raced up the second half of the stairs and stopped at a door that had deep brown marks in it. Kay.
He opened the door, and what Mark saw completely baffled him. There were pills scattered everywhere, clothes hanging from the ceiling and paintings of abstract colors covering every inch of the room. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Oh yeah, Mark! I forgot to tell you the reason I wanted you to come here." Jack then walked over to his bedside table and grabbed five of the pills. He hovered his hand over his mouth.

"Wait Jack is that really a good ide-" the pills fell into his mouth. No turning back now.

"I wanted to paint you. Well not just specifically paint you. I want my brain to paint what it thinks of you. Yeah."

Alright, things are getting weird.

"Alright Mark, just sit on the bed, this is going to take a minute. Also, did I tell you I just took LSD? If not, I just did." Meanwhile he was getting out art supplies, Mark stiffly sat on the bed.
It was another thirty minutes before he started, working with very dim lighting.

The two sat there for around two hours until Jack was done, and exclaimed he was very proud of his work. Turning it around, Mark was stunned.
On the canvas was an abstract version of Mark, made with monochrome colors. They eyes were bleached and hollow, but there was colorful smoke coming out of his mouth, which mixed with the extremely colorful background.

"Dude that's fucking sick."

Time to break the iceberg.

Here it goes.

"I know right! I'm proud."

"Hey Jack?"

"Yeah?"

Now or never.

"Why do you always wear girly stuff and pastels?"

"Because my dad likes to hold me and be around me when I'm dressed up and girly."

What the actual fuck did Mark get himself into.