the week | markhyuck

V

By the next morning, Mark's truck is practically ready to drive. All the necessary parts have been replaced and fitted into the old junker, and all that is needed is the lick of red paint that Mark was after. When he comes down for breakfast at ten that morning, he sees the can of paint on the kitchen counter with a note from his Dad, reading:

Here's that red you wanted, son. Don't use it all up at once, okay? Will be at the church all day, swing by when she's painted and help out like you said you would - Dad.

Smiling, Mark picks up the paint can and heads for the garage. He plugs his phone into the speaker laying dormant in the corner of the garage, linking it up to his playlist so that he isn't working in complete silence. Carefully popping the lid, Mark places it next to the can and dips a fat-head paintbrush into the red liquid. Adjusting himself on the stool he was sat on, he sets to work painting the outside of his new truck with a fresh coat of paint.

He paints for two hours, carefully covering up the rusting metal with a fresh red colour. Taking a step back as he puts the paintbrush on top of the paint can, Mark sighs, content with the work he had done. His music stops abruptly, as his ringtone echoes through the enclosed garage. Wiping his hands on a towel, Mark walks over his phone and checks the caller ID. Johnny.

"Johnny." Mark greets in a neutral tone as he answers the phone. "Checking in?"

"Hyuck's asking me to. Damn international calls." Johnny sighs. "Hyuck just wants to know how you are; you've been out there for two days now."

"Stop the presses then, his boyfriend's gone AWOL." Mark jokes. "I'm fine. I did text him, as per your insistence. He hasn't replied though; I should be asking how he is."

"Oh, you texted him? Good boy." Johnny says, and Mark rolls his eyes. "He says he appreciates the text, but is honouring the rule not to contact you while you are away. What rule is that, Mark?"

"The rule that he can't contact me in case it makes me feel like he's worrying about me, which in turn makes me worry and that will in no way benefit me making this trip." Mark says matter-of-factly.

"I see." Johnny hums. "Does that rule apply to me to?"

"It does. But, since you didn't know, I'll let it slide just once."

"Thanks, bro." Mark can sense Johnny's grin on the end of the line. "So, how's Canada?"

"Cold." Mark chuckles. "But, my dad got me a truck from the junkyard. We spent all of yesterday fixing it up, and I just finished painting it. I'm letting it dry out now, but I'll be going down to the church he runs and helping him out down there. Then, tomorrow, I'm helping mom out with the paper."

"Wow, a busy bee, huh?" Johnny laughs. "What about the other days? How will you keep busy then?"

"I'm sure I'll find a way." Mark smiles. "Oh, quick question. Is Yukhei there with you?"

"Uh, yeah. We just got out of a gym session and we're heading for lunch. Why?"

"Pass him the phone. I gotta tell him something."

"Alright.." Johnny sounds unsure, yet, still hands over the phone. After a few moments and whispers, the voice on the other line changes.

"Hey, Mark. Where you at?" Wong Yukhei, or Lucas, practically yells down the phone.

"I'm out on vacation, Lucas. Anyways, random question. Do you remember when you said you studied in Vancouver during high school?"

"Yeah, why?"

"And you had a girlfriend while you were here right? Her name was Bunny?"

"Yes, why?"

"Bunny was my best friend back in middle school." Mark says, and stifles a laugh as he pictures him clamming up on the end of the line.

"Oh." Yukhei hesitates. "Oh, shit. Uh.."

"It's alright, bud. If anything, she was my first kiss." Mark chuckles. "Okay, that was all. You can pass the phone back to Johnny now."

"Alrighty. Come home soon, alright? We all miss you here, dude." There's disruption on the end of the line, before Johnny comes back to the phone.

"So, Yukhei's high school girlfriend was your middle school first kiss." Johnny remarks. "Small fucking world, huh."

"Yeah. But, I don't mind now, as long as he made her happy." Mark says. "Anyways, I'm gonna head out soon. So, I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah. I'll call you up whenever Hyuck demands me too." Johnny grunts, and Mark wonders if it was because Hyuck kicked him in the leg and was chasticing him in angered mutters. "Alright, bye, Mark!"

Johnny hangs up the phone, and Mark's music continues to play through the speaker. Mark turns off his music to head back inside the house to wash up and grab a snack before he heads off to the church to meet with his dad.

With an apple slice hanging halfway out of his mouth, Mark shoves the keys to the truck into the ignition and fires the truck up, grinning as it roars to life. Jumping out of the truck momentarily to open up the garage, Mark is soon on the road. As he drives, he taps out the tune of whatever song is playing on the steering wheel.

The church comes into view after a few minutes, and Mark pulls up into the parking lot. Mark smiles fondly as memories of him visiting this holy place many times in childhood come flooding back. All the weddings he'd seen and performed at, a small boy with his big guitar.

Turning off the engine and getting out, Mark makes for the church doors. Heading inside, he follows the sound of the choir into the large hall, where he sees his dad on the raised platform with his guitar, accompanying a large choir of teenage voices. His dad is quick to notice him, and the music stops.

"Mark!" His dad calls out. "Come on up here, son."

Mark makes for the stage, and, as he gets closer the choir slowly start to recognise him. Some recognise him more than others, and from the back of the choir is a loud squeak.

"Holy cheeseballs, it's Mark Lee!"

"Casey." Mark's dad can't help but chuckle at the teen's attempt at hiding her language in the presence of his son. "What did I tell you?"

"Sorry, Pastor." The girl apologises, flustered. "But, that's Mark Lee! From Korea's biggest boygroup!"

"I am aware, Casey. He is my son."

"What?!" The girl squeaks again, and Mark chuckles. "I thought that was just a rumour."

"Consider it debunked, then." Mark smiles, making the girl erupt in a squeal once more.

"Most of our more seasoned veterans know you as my son." His dad clarifies, and Mark nods as he remembers the faces of kids he'd seen in the choir for years. "But some of our voices, like Casey here, have been with us for a year at most. Therefore, if anything, they know you first as a superstar."

"Well, today, consider me your personal helper. I've been within the choir since I was five, helping out my dad on the guitar. If you guys need any help, I might be able to assist." Mark offers.

The choir graciously accept Mark's offer, and soon the church is filled with voices now as the two Lee men provide a fitting accompaniment, along with reminiscing on old stories at choir members' request. Soon, the day is done, and the choir slowly make their separate ways home.

"Thanks for the help, son." Mark's dad smiles as they make their way to the parking lot. "They seemed to really have fun back there."

"I had a lot of fun too." Mark says. "I missed playing in the choir when I was training, it was awesome to play in it again."

"Well, come on down whenever you're free. I'm sure they'll appreciate your presence." As they make their way into the lot, his dad eyes up the newly painted truck. "Oh, wow. Ain't she a beaut?"

Mark chuckles as his dad pats him on the shoulder. "Does she run any good?"

"She runs great, actually." Mark grins. "I love it, dad. Thanks so much."

"Well, wanna drive us home?" His dad raises an eyebrow with a coy grin. Mark chuckles again, nodding. The two men then head towards the truck as the sun finally disappears beyond the horizon.