Chapter 17

   The sun drills past Jack's eyelids, causing him to groan impatiently as he attempts to roll over and hide away from it. He has no motivation or want to wake up and face the day, especially because of the ear ringing headache pounding away behind his eyes. But rolling over proves to be wasted energy as it seems sunlight paints the whole room, and theres no place for him to roll over too.

   Groaning again, he shuffles himself upright, squinting at blurry details in the unfamiliar room. His bicep hurts from the loss of bloodflow he'd caused by using it as a pillow, and his neck aches from the lack of proper support. He shakes his arm in attempts to regain sensation as he does his best to focus on the world around him. The Tv is still flashing bright colors and playing a quiet tune, which Jack quickly recognizes as the Mario Kart theme. His eyes fall next to the collection of bottles littering the small coffee table along with a small bowl of chex mix that seems to have escaped and made it's way aimlessly across the table, floor and couch surrounding Jack. He grimaces slightly at his laziness and drunken lack of coordination as he begins scooping up any peice he finds into the palm of his hand. He focuses on his task until his mindless action brings him to the feet of another person on the same couch.

   He startles for a moment, his mind reeling briefly as his eyes chase answers up the motionless figure until they fall upon the sleeping face of Ethan, curled around his now removed sweater for comfort. Jack gulps slightly, allowing all the memories to flood back at once:

   He'd brushed the solitary tear away quite blatantly, but if Ethan had noticed, he said nothing as he rounded Jack's solid figure to grab a handful of snack bags before leading him back out into the livingroom. Jack slumped into the couch as Ethan set up the switch for Mario Kart wordlessly, but handed Jack the controller with a gentle smile. Jack was grateful that Ethan didnt ask about what was eating him up, but fought the urge to unzip his skin and let it all flow forward anyway. He smiled back and accepted the controller, turning his focus onto choosing his character and kart. Ethan chose Toad while Jack clicked on Mario, as it was the first character his icon fell across. They played a few rounds in silence, but eventually, the laughter started. At first it was just strained chuckles for seemingly no reason, but it quickly turned into belly deep, tear inducing humor that the continuously flowing alcohol only encouraged. Ethan would attempt to blindly reach for the snack bowl with his eyes still glued to the screen and Jack would roll with laughter, then Jack would fly off the map or into a wall and Ethan would fall into the fits himself. It went on like this for hours, drinking, laughing, making a mess of the snacks, and fools of themselves until they both slumped back into the sofa, gasping for breath as they finished up yet another race in pitiful positions, and thats the last Jack recalls so far.

   His smile immediately falters as he remembers exactly how this night came to be. As much fun as he had had, it didnt cure his bruised ego, crumpled hopes, and stinging heart. And it added into the mix a throbbing headache and burning throat and upset stomach. The thought brought to attention the sudden spinning and queasiness that last nights alcohol set into motion, causing him to curl into himself and fight the urge to abandon the meager contents of his gut. He slowly recovers, swallowing repeatedly past the thickness of his own saliva. Once hes sure he has ahold of himself, he removes the heels of his hands from his eyes and pushes shakey fingers through his sweat matted hair. He hates how disgusting it feels, unkempt and unclean, a display of how little he's given to his hygine in past hours.

   A stirring at his side earns his attention as he watches Ethan squirm before peeling a pair of red glossy eyes open reluctantly. His normally chipper nature faltering slightly as he dryly groans in place of a greeting, forcing himself to sit up and stretch slightly despite looking stiff and sore. The two sit in silence for a moment, but its short lived as Ethan stands, making his way to the kitchen and returning with two water bottles, both visibly cold as beads of sweat roll down the plastic onto his fingers. He thrusts one into Jack's chest before cracking his own open and taking a long, desperate drink. Jack eagerly accepts the gift Ethan had blessed him with, following in his example quickly.

  The two allow the water a moment to work its magic before Ethan smiles dryly in Jacks direction.

"Hungry?"

   Jack stares up at Ethan, feeling nothing but also feeling every aching muscle and organ he possesses at once. Another blurry memory of last night surfaces. They'd slumped back and a long moment of silence reigned, when the tears began to stream. At that point he was too far gone to stop them. They fell and fell until he let out the softest of sobs, which earned Ethans attention. But he said nothing, he only reached over and tugged Jack into a tight side hug. surely his tears soaked Ethan's sweater as he sat trembling under his friends arm, his cheekbone resting on Ethan's solid shoulder. But Ethan asked no questions and put up no protests, comforting his friend as if it were the easiest thing in the world. And when hed cried himself out, Ethan gently let him slink against the couch, offering him a few comforting pats before making himself comfortable in the opposite corner, and the two fell into sleep.

   At the moment, Ethan's simple question felt foriegn to Jacks ears, but with sheer will he ripped apart the memory of last night's immense heart break and drags himself back into the present, finally processing the question Ethan had asked a moment ago. If nothing else, perhaps food might be able to tame the raging monster of sickness rolling about in his insides.

   He nods softly, careful not to strain his already sore neck further. Ethan smiles wider, striding across the room once more to his side of the sofa, digging blindly in the cracks a moment.

"What sounds good? Taco Bell typically gets here fastest but theres a small lunch place I order from that has the best breakfast blts." He states, pulling his phone free before opening the screen, but his expression falls flat suddenly.

   Jack watches as Ethan stares, suddenly silently, at his phone for a moment, seeming to have totally lost his train of thought. He'd recieved no response from Mark, and his minds racing with concern. It isnt abnormal for Mark to take a long time to respond to a text. But its particularly concerning that this message had been read and seemingly ignored, specifically this message. Should he send another? Perhaps sneak away and give him a call? Or just drive over and check on him?

   Jack wants to ask, his curiousity building slightly, but he chooses to instead grant Ethan the same privacy Ethan had given him.

"I'm not picky, whatever sounds good to you." Jack responds to Ethan's earlier question, regaining his attention. A smile twitches at the edges of Ethan's cheeks for a moment before he once again refocuses on his phone, this time navigating to a food delivery app.

"In that case," Ethan continues, light heartedly. "I hope you like breakfast potatoes."

                              ***

   Mark had been staring out the window for what felt like hours but surely had only been a few moments. The radio is playing an obnoxious tune that Vibrance remains totally oblivious to, but its slowly driving Mark insane. Some stupid love song that, a few days ago, would have rolled off of his shoulders as backgound noise and nothing more, but is now an ugly reminder of his own stupidity. He reaches over and clicks  the radio off, much more comfortable in the punishment of silence than he ever thought possible.

  Vi glances over at the man in her passenger seat. Perhaps now isnt the best time for her to enact her plan, but its killing her to watch him fall further and further away from himself. And she hadnt gotten the opprotunity to let Ethan know anything, let alone find out if Jack is even still there. She had planned on giving him some heads up, but Mark's phone is password protected and her's was left on Dan's counter in her rush to notify Mark of the canceled livestream. She chews on her lip in thought, hoping Mark is too distracted to notice where she's taking him as she presses just slightly more on the gas pedal.

  When her van pulls to a stop, Mark opens his sandpaper eyelids, scanning the world beyond the window his forehead rests lazily against.

"Where are we?" He mumbles, rather disinterestedly as Vi reaches over to his hip to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"Ethan wanted us to stop by." Her lie burning the back of her throat with guilt. She hates lying, but not as much as she hates the pool of self loathing Mark radiates.

"Why?" He growls, but it ends up sounding more like a whine. He doesnt want to look Ethan in the face and explain what he'd done. He doesnt have the strength to confess how royally he'd fucked his whole life up after confessing everything so openly just days before. The knowledge that he'd lost his best friend and chance a true love all in one harsh statement was more than enough penance than anything Ethan could deliver anyway, but he's still ashamed.

"Dont know." Vi shakily repsonds, climbing out of her seat and rounding the front of her van to open Mark's door. Mark narrows his eyes at her, sensing and silently questioning the uneasiness she cant turn into her natural grace. She swallows, her emerald eyes gazing back into his darkened brown eyes with forced confidence.

"Just trust me." She states, opening the door wider for Mark to exit on his own accord.

   Its not that she doesnt get along with Mark. He's great fun and easy going, a walking ray of humor and sunshine, but emotional in ways Vi has a hard time working with. She does much better with the bottled up individuals in the world, like Jack, who she can seemingly read and aid much eaiser. But when it comes to people like Mark, who let all their emotions shake the very ground they walk on, Vi catches them second hand, and finds her footing weary and nervous. But she'll be damned if she lets him pass up his opprotunity to fix whatever broke. So she stiffens her muscles, holding his gaze more intensly than before.

   He watches as Vi stands a little taller, a muted declaration that she would carry him through the pits of hell if she has too, and Mark has no grounds to doubt that. With a soft sigh, he slumps out of the seat and beside her, holding her strong gaze, hoping to earn some of the strength from it. Vi nods approvingly, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Good. Now lets go."