Who Killed Markiplier? (Mayor X OC SubPlot)

Chapter 1-pt 1

I checked the time on my watch. 'I'm not late! What a relief!' I thought. I looked around at the magnificent mansion. It looks like a castle from those fairy tales. 'Definitely beats my boring old house.' I fiddled with my dress and my hair to make sure they looked presentable. I wasn't used to dressing fancy and doing myself up all nice for anything. It was also strange without my glasses. My brother's wife forced me to see a stylist she knew and they got me my first pair of contacts as well as did my makeup and hair. At least I got to pick out my outfit.

I saw a man dressed like he came straight out a jungle safari walk up to the door. 'I don't recognize him. He must also be a friend of Mark's. I should introduce myself,' I thought. I walked to him. The stranger stopped at the top of the steps to look around the large entrance. Before I could call out to him, he seemed to sense my presence and turned around. "Oh! Bully!" he said surprised. 'Bully?' I thought confused. "And here I thought I was going to be the last guest to arrive." I smiled shyly at him. I give my hand to him to shake and he takes it. "My friends call me Izzy," I introduce myself. "Pleasure to meet you," he said. We release our grip. His hand falls to his side while mine goes back into my other hand in front of me. "My friends call me the Colonel." He bows when he says his name. He gestures to me as he speaks.  "You're welcome to do the same, should it please you. But uh..." I put my hand up to stop him. "It would please me very much to call you that Colonel," I assure him. He gave a quick chuckle. I smiled back. I just met him but I already liked him. He stepped aside to let me pass in front of him and gestured with his arms towards the door. "After you," he said. I thanked him and walked ahead. When I opened the door I was immediately greeted by who looked to be the butler. "Ah! Bonjour! Welcome to Markipiler Manor. Your invitation, please?" I reached into my purse and pulled out my invitation, which had my name and job written on it. I hand it over to the butler. "Very good, very good. Right this way," he said eagerly. We walked as he talked to me. "Good luck at your table tonight. I shall fetch you a drink forthwith."

He walked away and I saw my childhood friend, Damian, talking to a man dressed as a detective. I felt my heart race. I had never told anyone but I had feelings for him ever since we met in our freshman year of high school. Back then, Damian was my support. I was too afraid to even talk to people so he helped me with almost everything I did, and I tried to repay him any way I could. He was the one who introduced me to Mark, though I was never as close to him as I was with Damian. Even though Mark had the popularity and the money, Damian had the heart and brains as well as ambition and determination. He wasn't born rich or poor, just simple middle class, but he rose to be our towns mayor and is living the dream he always wished for. Just last week, when my stories weren't publishing and I needed to look for a new job, faster than lightning he offered me a job as his District Attorney. Damian always looked out for me. However, I'm too scared to tell him how I feel. We've been close friends for so long that confessing might ruin our bond. I can't risk that so I keep my mouth shut.

I walk over to where Damian is talking with the detective-looking stranger. I glance at him and we make eye contact. He already looks untrusting of me, and I couldn't say that trusted him either. He gave off a vibe that I didn't like. Damian notices that he lost the stranger's attention and turns to see me standing there. "Oh," he said. He blinks a few times and finally recovers from the shock of my new look. He greets me as the stranger walks away. "There you are old friend. You look quite ravishing this evening," he complemented. He smiles at me and I blush, fiddling with my earrings. Wether he knew it or not, or if he even intended it, he always was a sweet talker and said all the right things to me. "You look quite dashing yourself Dami," I complimented back. He smiled and blushed a little bit. He couldn't handle being complimented without getting flustered, even after all these years. I saw that he noticed my earrings and his grin widened. I blushed this time, replaying the memory of a Christmas past. He looked back at me and decided to make some small talk. "How are you settling into your new office?" "Other than it's large size and need for some decorations, I'm doing just fine," I said. He laughs at my obvious joke. "You and your bad humor." "Hey you said my jokes were genius," I say giving his arm a light punch. "I just told you that because it made you happy," he said. We both laughed again. "But seriously, I know it'll take some time to get used to, but there's no one I would rather have alongside me to protect this great city of ours," he said. "Now I'll see you at the table soon, but try not to  rob me blind again," he suggested as he started to walk away. "It was only two mints from your desk. You know they're meant to be taken right? And it was only one time," I said. He only chuckled and said "We'll catch up." I smile and scoff. And he thinks my humor is bad.

Since I wasn't in a socializing mood-which I never am when around strangers-I decided to explore the house a bit. I walked forward and turned into the next room I found. It looked like the dinner room, and a man, the chef most likely, was standing at the table with a ladle and a silver platter. He looks at me when I walk in. My plan was to ignore him and continue on into the kitchen but he stopped me by aggressively talking to me. "If your looking for hors d'oeuvres, I'll get them when I'm good and ready!" He walked to the kitchen and I followed only because I wanted to keep on looking. He stops in the doorway for a moment before whipping around and shoving the ladle in my face. I took a step back and threw my hands up. "And stay out of my kitchen!" He threatened me. "Now, now," I heard the butler call out to the scary chef. The chef and I looked at him and I took the opportunity to get away and slowly walk to him as he spoke. "Let's not be rude to our guest," he said. As I continued walking to him he turned to talk to me. "So sorry about that," he apologized. "It's fine," I assured him. I made a mental note to never get close to the chef again if I wanted to live. He took a glass of champagne from a tray that I didn't notice he had with him and offered it to me. "Here's your champagne." I took it and gave him a small thank you, slightly raising the glass to him. "Enjoy your evening," he said and walked away to give the rest of the guests their drinks.

I look at the glass in my hand. I wasn't very good  with anything that can get a person drunk. I didn't act like myself-crazy, loud, obnoxious, crude, and even a sexual flirt. I'm also way too open about my thoughts and feelings. I remember that Damian called it releasing my "beast". On top of that I never remember anything when I'm drunk. It's always bits and pieces but it all comes flooding back after two to three days. That's why I avoid drinking when I can, but there has been exceptions. I look up and take a few steps and see Mark come down the staircase. "Welcome, welcome, one and all!" He greeted his guests. I looked around me to find all of the other guests gathered around the stairs. Damian stood next to me and of course I blushed at how close he was. Like, really close, our shoulders are touching. There was plenty of room to make space between us but it's not like I'm going to ask him to move now am I? Mark started to walk very slowly down the stairs and continued talking. I knew Mark was going to give some grand old speech, that was just his style. He'll probably start by saying his name even though we all know it. "My name is Markiplier." Yep. My lips tugged at a smile at how predictable he was, as well as the sound of his nickname. "Thank you for joining me on this auspicious evening." Cue the hand gestures. "So good to be surrounded by such close-" he waved his arm to the guests on his left "-and trusted friends." He waved his other arm to the guests in front of him, mostly in my direction. He continued talking while still using hand gestures and stopped walking. "Now, this evening, it's not about the poker. It's not all about me." Damian and I smirked and gave each other knowing glances. When it's Mark, it's usually all about him but hey, what can you do? "It's about you." He pointed in my general direction when he said this. "So drink up and be merry! Life is for the living!" We all raises our glasses and gave a cheer. "And who knows?" He asked, leaning on the stair rail. "I could be dead tomorrow." We all laughed at his joke. He laughed as well, his iconic crazed laughter. Everyone started drinking their glasses except me. Damian saw this and tried to convince me otherwise. "Come on Izzy, tonight's special. Make one of those exceptions tonight. It's our long over due reunion after all!" he told me. I look at my glass in thought, running my middle finger along the edges. "Aw, what the hell?" I said. I drank the glass all at once and Lord behold, it started.

Everything became distorted and slowed down. I started to get only pieces of what I was doing. There was poker playing, Damian playing his personal favorite drinking game Keg Stand, the Colonel waving his gun around, I flipped off the butler, the detective accidentally(?) knocked me to the ground, Damian was above me trying to wake me up, and the last thing I remember roughly landing on top of a bed and seeing the time.

1:30 a.m.

Then I fell asleep.

Word Count-1873