The Storm Inside : A Septiplier Love Story [✔Completed✔]

Part 18: Prom

[Jack's POV]

I strutted from Marks bedroom door to the end of the hallway. I was wearing a feather scarf thingy, his mom's red dress from prom, my red heels, and goggles. I struck a pose and went back to Marks room. He clapped.

"I give you an...86 out of 10!" Mark said.

"Mark!"

"Too high?"

"No! I at least deserve an 87!" He laughed.

"You're right. 87 out of 10!" I smiled at him and he got ready to see my next outfit. His mom started picking out my next outfit. She smiled as Mark got a new score board. Even though I was the only one dressing up.

"You really helped out my Mark." She said, laying down some outfits.

"How's that?" I said.

"He wasn't this open after he lost his father, you know. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't talk to his friends, he was...well, he was..."

"Depressed?" She looked at me.

"Yes. Precisely." She said. She paused her motion for a moment, then went back to laying down the clothes.

"You're a great mom. You know that, don't you?" She stopped moving, then went back to it. "Most mom's wouldn't so this just for their gay kid. Especially if he's dressing in female clothing." She didn't look up. "My mom wouldn't even know how to take the fact that I'm bisexual."

I sighed and went for a dress, but she touched my hand. I looked at her.

"If your mother won't even except what gender you like, then she doesn't know what she's doing. And if you find that affensive," she kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry, my son." She finished what she was doing. I smiled while watching her work. She finally finished and then stood up all the way, hands on her hips.

"Actually, my mother doesn't know what she's doing." She looked at me. "She passed away in September. When I moved here. I haven't really had a mother or father since then. Well, other than-" I. Just. Remembered. Him.

"Other than?"

"You. You've been my mother since I moved here."

"Well, you'll be my son-in-law soon." She said, looking at the outfits she put together.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked. She looked at me.

"Well Isn't it obvious? Marks most likely going to propose some day soon. It isn't like he's just going to forget you and dump you. He never stops talking about you as soon as you leave the room. I mean hell-" she pointed to the wall saying, "he hung up the pictures from when you two started to make out in a photo booth at the mall. He has your jacket. Since you took his, he has yours in the closet. He loves you. And you may think It's all fake, and that he's a dirty poser, but he really loves you. And Jack, I need to know something."

She turned to me. I straightened a little.

"Do you love Mark?" I nodded. "Yes, of course you do, but would you ever leave him for fame?" I looked at her confused. "You know. Artist, singer, dancer, YouTuber, all sorts of jobs where people hide who they love. Would you ever do that?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"A serious one." She said.

"I am being serious. I would never do anything to hurt him. I want him to be three times as happy as me. Maybe even four times. I want to keep him our Markimoo. Loved male by many. Known by many. Seen by many. Not like many." I was looking at the door. He was on the other side. "We should probably hurry so he doesn't think we murdered each other."