Our Always | Crankiplier

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Mark sat at the table, coffee cup in hand, staring at the door of the café, just like everyday after classes, waiting for the sparkling boy to walk in. It was impossible to find his soul mate.

Mark knew it was a boy; his dreams told him that much. But as for this boy's name or face, Mark didn't know.

Oh, we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we? Allow me to explain a bit. Everyone has a true love. A soul mate, if you will. And when you see that person for the first time, sparkes fly. Literally. Up until then, you have dreams. They tell you things about your true love, but never their name. Peculiar, right? Well, Authors logic is all over the place so let's just go with it, hm?

There were so many boys in LA, Mark was almost certain he wouldn't find Boy, even if he spent years looking and waiting. Mark had taken to calling his true love 'Boy', as he had not even a hint of an idea of a name for the mystery boy.

Mark dreams told him Boy lived here in LA, so at least Mark didn't have to move to find Boy. 

His dreams also told him Boy loved this café he was sat in, watching the entrance intensely. When Mark met Boy, he would have to tell Boy that he had wonderful taste.

The café was built into a small library. It was a small, cozy little nook that was occupied usually be no more than six people at a time. The walls were painted a dark scarlet and the floor was cherry wood with rugs the colour of the walls under all eight oak tables. In the front, there was a heavy, oak door with a small window that held a lit-up open sign and in the back, there was a pine wood door that lead to the library, which held seven book casesfilled with colourful books and a few overly stuffed chairs.

Next to the door was a small counter painted black. A cash register sat on the counter, and a few lines of shelving lined the side of the counter, sat behind glass, and on the shelves sat some of the best looking pastries you would ever see. They tasted, Mark knew, better than they looked, if that was possible. Above the counter, a thicc pine sign hung from thicc rope, a menu scrawled in black Sharpie burning into the light wood.

Mark always ordered the same thing: A vanilla latte and a slice of cheesecake-which Mark deemed the best sweet they had, although a lot of the others came close- and always sat in the same place. By the window with the open sign in a velvet plush chair with oak legs and a tall back, a tall oak coffee table sat in front of him, keeping him from a second chair just like the first, sat parellel to him. He hoped that soon Boy would join him and sit in that exact chair.

Ever since the dreams started, when he was around thirteen, Mark had learned that Boy's favourite colour was pink, and that his favourite band was Panic! At The Disco, and that he loved candies and children. Mark knew Boy had a family of him, his mum, his step-father, his five blood siblings-three brothers and two sisters-, and his four step-siblings-three girls and one boy-. And Mark knew that he was by far closest to his oldest brother Dominic. He knew one name. That' what he was going of: one name.

Marks only chance to find his true love was a single first name.