flight log » markson

⛈turbulence⛈ nine

Mark pulled Jackson into his room the moment they got back to the dorm. Jackson could see the confused looks on Yugyeom and BamBam's faces as he was practically dragged across the house, but they only watched it happen. The door was quickly shut and locked, and Jackson had no way out of the situation.

"What happened in China?" Mark sat down across from Jackson, his expression showing that he didn't want to mess around. "What didn't you want to tell me last night?"

"What does it matter?" Jackson didn't mean to be sassy; he just thought that Mark would go straight into asking why he was on the roof.

"I know you, Jackson. I know something happened while you were gone, but I don't know what it is. What's wrong?" Mark's tone softened as he laid a hand on Jackson's knee.

"Nothing happened. If something happened, you would have heard about it, right?" Jackson only partially meant what he said because it was true that nothing extreme happened. It was just that he lack of love he had received really affected him.

"Please, just talk to me," Mark begged, his grip on Jackson's leg tightening. "If something has been bothering you to the point where you're climbing onto the ledge of a roof, then I need to know. Please, Jackson."

After a moment of silence, Jackson couldn't hold it in anymore. He knew it was just best to talk to Mark, otherwise the situation might get unnecessarily out of hand. "The news never made it out of China. Not that it's really news, anyway. It's just that a lot of people hated my album. Not many people wanted to come out and support me."

"What exactly happened?" Mark asked, a frown settling on his face.

"Not much. People said mean things and only a handful of fans came out to the performances and stuff. It's not anything that serious. It just... hurt, I guess." Jackson paused, unsure if it was a good idea to continue. His mouth kept opening and closing like he was going to say more, but nothing came out.

"What?" Mark's eyes pleaded for Jackson to go on, effectively getting Jackson to crumble.

"The staff was so mean," Jackson choked out, hiding his face in his hands. "The staff in China is so much meaner than they are here. They kept telling me that I was losing fans because I'm too fat. I was told that my nose was too wide and that my cheeks were too chubby. It was like there was something wrong with every single feature I have. Is that true, Mark? Are they right?"

"No! None of that is true." Mark pulled Jackson into his lap and into a loving hug.

"Then why does it feel like everyone hates me now? I understand that my music isn't to everyone's taste, but I wasn't even receiving feedback about my music. It seemed like everything is about me and how fat I am, or how ugly I became. What did I do wrong?" Jackson hid his face in Mark's neck, hoping that the smell of Mark's cologne would calm him down. If anything, it made
him feel worse as he was reminded of how amazing and perfect Mark was.

"You didn't do anything wrong. People are only mean like that because they feel bad about themselves. Everyone is just jealous of how attractive you are. I mean, look at yourself. You're so muscular and in shape. You've spent so much time and energy to get healthy and to look good for our fans, but they would love you even if you didn't. You're perfect, Jackson, and if they can't see that then it's their loss."

"But I'm not even that strong. You guys have been working out, too, and you've already passed me. Don't you remember how badly I lost to Jinyoung in arm wrestling? I'm pathetic compared to you guys. I'm pathetic in every way to you guys." Jackson let his heart out, saying things he never really thought about in fear of what he would feel if he did.

"Comparing you to us is nothing. We're all different in different ways, so it's not fair of you to compare yourself to us like that. Just because Jinyoung beat you in arm wrestling doesn't mean that you're weak or pathetic." Mark wove his fingers through Jackson's hair, gently rubbing circles into the back of Jackson's head.

"There are other things that make me pathetic," Jackson whispered, his voice muffled by Mark's skin. "But I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"It's okay. We can stop for now." Mark paused, hesitantly pushing Jackson away so he could look him in the eye. "Just know that I'll always be here to listen if you need it."

Jackson nodded, moving himself back into Mark's arms. His mind kept wandering to his scene on the rooftop, no matter how hard he tried to think about something else. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to jump, and that terrified him. Something about death seemed so appealing to Jackson—something he wasn't sure he was allowed to feel with how privileged he was. If Mark wasn't there to stop him, he may have been dead. Maybe he wouldn't. He didn't know.

"Jackson," Mark began, breaking Jackson out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I've been so stressed thinking about you and about everyone else, and I unfairly took it out on you. I just want you to know that I could never be mad at you for something like that. I love you so much, and I'm sorry if it didn't feel that way yesterday."

"It's okay, Mark. I know." Jackson nodded, feeling his skin brush against Mark's. His heart felt like it was going to explode with how much Mark cared for him.

"Just never forget that. Don't forget that I love you." Mark mustered a small smile and kissed the side of Jackson's head.

"I love you, too."