since eighth grade. → markiplier

Chapter Twenty-Three: YouTuber's react

Chapter Twenty-Three: YouTuber’s react

Who cares how old this react video is? I love Baby Metal and I love Markiplier. Why not put them both together and move the video to the future? Eh? Eh? Oh, just go along with it. xD.

Ellie

Once Mark stops all recording, he sits there for a moment and soaks up the silence. He leans back on his chair, rolling his head to the right so that he can see me. I smile sideways at him, placing my hands in my lap. I stare down at them for a moment, just smiling to myself about all that’s happened today.

I check the time, noticing that it is twenty past. We could still wait here for another ten minutes, but I’d much rather head off now. LA was unpredictable with its traffic, getting to its peak during rush hour. I stretch, letting out a small yawn. Mark lets out a small chuckle, and I turn to him.

“Hmm?” I hum, curious as to what he was laughing at.

“You’re so adorable,” He tells me, sighing into his hand. “And you brought me good luck. I actually completed night seven! I’m so happy,” He says, grinning from ear to ear. I smile back at him, standing up and stretching my legs. “I’m going to change my shirt.” He tells me, standing up and heading to his room. I follow him out of the recording room, but I wait by the stairs whilst he changes.

Once he gets out, he wears a grey planet-express shirt. He raises an eyebrow and nods his head at me, offering me his hand. I feel something blossom inside of my chest, almost as if somebody had placed a bomb filled with syrup in my heart. It reaches my head, dripping down to my toes with a warm, tingling sensation. I take his hand in mine, not daring to let go as we head out of the door and into Mark’s car.

The only time we release each other’s hand is when we both climb into the vehicle. I buckle up, resting my head beside the window. Even though the day isn’t particularly hot, or even warm, I roll down the window and let my hand glide through the air as Mark drives. I don’t know what it is about doing this, but I’ve always done it. Even since I was a kid. At least, when my mom used to drive me places.

I pull my hand back, tucking it under my sweater to try and warm it up. I even run my hand through my hair, which got slightly messed up when I stepped outside. Come to think of it, the day isn’t that nice at all. But, I don’t complain. I’d much rather be cold than boiling hot. Call me weird, but I hate summer.

When we arrive at our destination, Mark pulls up on the large, concrete driveway and steps out of the car. I unbuckle my belt, stepping out and taking in the view. It’s a large building, big enough for large sets to be held. They probably film more than react videos in there – maybe short movies?

Mark offers me his hand again, and I don’t hesitate to take it. We walk into the building, feeling fairly confused, until a guy dressed in all black approaches us. There’s a few others in the building, but none that I recognize. The guy leads us to where we need to be after we explain what we’re meant to be doing, and I finally see the guys that first appeared outside of my house. The guy in the white beanie and the guy in the glasses.