flight log » markson

🌥departure🌥 one

Photoshoots always caused a huge dent in Jackson's image of himself. Spending so much time in front of a camera was stressful enough; having to be with the rest of his group made things significantly worse. He never felt like he could compare to the other six members in his group when they were all so perfect.

He couldn't help but think about how much better looking everyone else was. He'd never have Yugyeom's height, BamBam's legs, or Youngjae's cuteness. He wouldn't be able to suddenly get Jinyoung's proportions, Jaebum's muscles, or Mark's eyes. He was just Jackson Wang, that guy who was unfortunate enough to get shoved into a group of literal gods.

During a photoshoot for the group's new comeback, he was having an off day and he simply felt out of place. Everyone else was already so effortlessly on point with what the photographer wanted while Jackson felt like he had to work his ass off to just reach expectations. He wasn't sure he couldn't get into the album concept or something else was going on; either way, he knew he was closer and closer to tearing his hair out with every click of that camera.

It wasn't until the seven of them split up to change outfits that Jackson finally broke down his act. All his frustration and annoyance came out as he took off his accessories. He almost broke the necklace he was wearing, but he also didn't care. The stylist only rolled her eyes at him and shoved the next set of clothes into his arms, impatiently telling him to get ready.

Fortunately for Jackson, the one person that never failed to put a smile on his face decided to take a seat next to Jackson's mirror. Mark gave a small smile, his worry unbidden in his expression. He was almost certain he knew what was wrong and he wanted to do his best to help.

"Hey, Jackson," Mark greeted. "What's with the scowl?"

"What?" Jackson glanced at the mirror to see the unpleasant look that painted his face. He quickly mustered a smile and replied, "I think I've developed resting bitch face. Sorry if that was bothering you."

"Your face is too cute to ever bother me." Mark grinned at how flustered Jackson suddenly became.

"Did you come all the way here just to flirt with me?" Jackson's stylist rolled her eyes again, but didn't say anything as she wordlessly moved Jackson's head over to face away from Mark.

"It looks like you're still busy getting your makeup touched up. I'll come back later." Mark hopped off the vanity he was sitting on and began to walk away when Jackson's hesitant grip wrapped around his wrist.

"No, it's fine. Please don't leave yet," Jackson rushed out.

"Jackson, what's wrong?" Mark turned to face Jackson, but he didn't sit back down. His face was scrunched up in confusion and a little hurt was mixed into his voice.

"What are you talking about?"

"You seemed so out of it when we were taking pictures and now you're acting... weird. You never seem this desperate." A frown settled onto both of their faces.

"Desperate? I didn't mean to come off that way. I'm sorry if that was annoying." Jackson suddenly wished that he hadn't let so much emotion show, as that seemed to only ever make things worse. "Today's just been a rough day. No particular reason, it just is. I apologise that I've been kind of messing up the photoshoot."

"No!" Mark shouted, drawing the attention of the whole dressing room. He quickly lowered his voice, a light blush on his cheeks. "I meant that it's not anything like that. You haven't messed anything up. Don't think like that."

"You don't have to lie to me," Jackson whispered, emotionlessly.

"I'm not lying. I don't understand why you think so lowly of yourself." Mark wordlessly took a seat on Jackson's lap, causing Jackson's eyes to widen in surprise.

"I don't know. Maybe it's the pure piece of perfection that's sitting on top of me right now," Jackson teased. "You really aren't making me look any better by getting so close to me. That just makes it easier to compare us."

"Is that why you've been acting weird? You've been comparing yourself to us again?" Mark felt like his heart broke hearing that Jackson was feeling insecure. He knew how Jackson felt about his looks, and it never failed to jerk some strong emotions out of Mark.

"It's not a big deal. I'm just having one of those days."

"If you feel that way, you need to tell me," Mark insisted, lacing his fingers with Jackson's. "I want to be there for you to tell you how perfect you are."

"You're really touchy today," Jackson mumbled, his cheeks heating up.

"Promise me you'll tell me, please." Mark jut out his lip and got all up Jackson's face, only causing the latter to get more flustered.

"I will." Jackson could feel himself smile at Mark's satisfied expression. The two continued to stare at each other happily, until the stylist cut into their moment.

"If you two lovebirds are done, I still have to finish up Jackson's makeup," she interrupted, impatient and a little rudely.

"I'm sorry," Mark apologised, getting off of Jackson. "Talk to me later, okay?"

"You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?" the stylist murmured to herself, watching Mark away. "Never let him go."

"I know. I won't."