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To say that Mark was happy that he was forced to take a break would be the understatement of the century.
But if he's going to be sitting around, he might as well do something he enjoys, right? He felt like he was wasting time just doing nothing.
(Not that he actually minded. He could use the break, but still.)
He's reading a book that he hasn't put down since it fell out of one of the boxes. His friends had tried to pull him away from it countless times, but once Mark was hooked on a good novel, there was no getting through to him. It was like he was warped into a portal.
I’ll help them unpack after I read this chapter. He told himself as he went on to the next one, promising that each would be his last. His roommates had given up eventually, opting to do their own thing in their respective corners of the living room: unpacking boxes and occasionally tossing each other items that they agreed to share.
Maybe the noise would bother some people, but Mark didn't mind. He was too absorbed in his book. Besides, he knew how to tune out his surroundings; he had done it many times when his parents would argue about nothing he wanted to remember now. Books were his escape from long nights and countless fights. They served as a coping mechanism for him during his teen years.
Guess old habits die hard after all. Books were usually his escape...
But not right now.
At least, not in the way that they were before.
Because things are different now. For once, Mark is actually comfortable in the room he’s in, comfortable with his roommates, and for once, he's not reading in order to escape awkward tension or some other social situation.
He’s reading because he genuinely wants to. Because he’s bored.
He never thought such a mundane thing could bring him so much happiness. A wave of emotion rushes through him and he bites his lip, trying to contain what he's feeling right now.
Instead, he allows himself to gets lost in the pages. Mark doesn’t know how much time has passed, but his ass is starting to get sore from sitting on the floor for so long.
Oh well. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made.
This is a good book. If he had to be in a bit of physical discomfort to enjoy it...
Then so be it.
Mark’s nose is still stuck in his book. He hears a long, stretched out groan from Eduardo. He sounds worn out. Tired.
Mark doesn’t want him to push himself too hard, but that’s like expecting a bird not to fly. He frowns, silently hoping that his roommate will get some well-deserved rest later tonight.
“-Alright, fuck, I think that’s the last of it.”
On the word, 'fuck', Mark hears the THUD! of another heavy box falling to the floor. Jon squeaks in surprise. Mark doesn’t even flinch; he hates to admit it, but he’s gotten used to the loud noise at this point. He hears Eduardo roughly clapping the dust off of his hands, tired but probably satisfied.
“...For now, at least.” Eduardo grumbles.
Mark hears a quiet “aw, man…” from Jon, almost inaudible. If you weren’t looking for it, you probably wouldn’t have heard it.
There’s still cluttered boxes laying around the apartment, but it looks better than it did before. This is progress. They knew it would be impossible to unpack everything today. They’re drained.
Earlier that day, Mark watched his roommates carrying things in and out of their apartment. Unpacking, heavy lifting ( well, Eduardo did most of the heavy lifting. Jon may be determined, but it took him almost twenty minutes to carry one box inside...) and unloading the rest of the furniture from the delivery truck.
They had been unpacking things since early noon. It's a little past dinner time now.
Orange sunlight streams into their apartment, warm and inviting. Looks like the sun is setting soon.
Although Mark’s head is stuck in his book, he’s still aware of his surroundings. He can tell who's doing what because he's known them for so long. He can envision what his roommates are doing without looking up, the same way he can picture every scene in his novel.
“Here, Jon!” Eduardo’s gruff voice reverberates through the not-so-empty apartment. It’s still loud, it’s still Eduardo, but the exhaustion in his voice is evident. “This is yours.”
“Heyy, my ukulele!” Light footsteps run across the floorboards. Mark feels the weight of Jon’s feet bouncing around from excitement. He smiles as he turns another page.
“Alright, alright, hey-!” Eduardo’s voice again, louder than before. Mark hears a soft thud! He doesn't bother to look up, assumes Jon probably ran into him. ( Jon is a bit clumsy, so this theory wouldn't be unlikely.) As if on cue, he hears Eduardo pipe up again. “Take it easy, calm down! What are you, a bunny!?” He spits the word bunny out with so much venom that Mark can’t help but find it hilarious.
Mark hears a squeal of joy. Eduardo must have given him the ukulele back.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you!”
Yup, he was right. He can picture Jon hugging the little instrument close to his chest, the same way he’s always done since they were in high school.
“Yeah. Now you can harass the neighbors to your heart’s content.”
Amused, Mark shakes his head. Of course. No wonder Eduardo gave it back to him so quickly.
More shuffling and movement. Eduardo’s probably heading to the kitchen. He needs a break. Jon’s positive energy always drained him out.
Mark hears the sound of repeated kisses against the nylon strings as the ukulele squeaks in protest.
“It's been ages since I've last seen you!”
Mark flips another page. He envisions Jon squeezing the ukulele and planting small kisses on its fretboard. Eduardo’s muttering something under his breath. Mark barely catches the words “fuckin’ weirdo” and “crazy ass” sprinkled throughout his mini rant, but there’s no real heat in his words. He pictures Eduardo shaking his head, rolling his eyes at his friend’s over dramatic gestures.
Mark finds it endearing.
“It's literally been in the delivery truck for three days,” Eduardo reminds him. The sound of the fridge opening.
“I know!” Jon replies, devastated. “Isn’t it awful?”
Eh. To most people, probably not. But Jon's in love with this ukulele; he had been playing it since they were in high school. Mark remembers how annoyed Eduardo would get whenever Jon tried to play songs for them. Back then, Jon was practicing all the time but he never sounded good...
They’re sitting in Mark’s bedroom on a Thursday night.
Back when they still lived with their parents and none of them were worried about the future. Back when they would walk to class together and sit with Todd in the cafeteria. It was a simpler time, less stressful.
Eduardo and Mark lay on the bed while Jon sits on the floor, trying to make something good come out of the ukulele in his hands.
Pluck.
Pluck, pluck.
“I still don't know why you play that stupid thing.” Eduardo shakes his head, watching his friend helplessly pluck at the squeaky strings. The notes are whiny and annoying.
Eduardo’s feet dangle off the bed as he grows more irritated. “Just buy a real guitar already!”
“For the last time Eduardo, I don't want to learn the guitar!”
Jon's fingers awkwardly tug at the nylon strings. He keeps readjusting the instrument in his hands like he’s trying to remember how to hold it. “I want to learn the ukulele!”
He sure is persistent...
“Alright, same thing, mini guitar. Whatever you want to call it.” Mark grins as he listens to Eduardo getting more annoyed. He sounds like a tired mother scolding her child. “The only difference is that it looks less threatening and it has less strings.”
“Hey-!” Jon hugs his instrument defensively. He places his hands on the sides of the ukulele, as if trying to cover its “ears”. “Don't say that! You’ll hurt her feelings!”
“Her?” Eduardo repeats, completely baffled. “What are you-??”
“I like it, Jon,” Mark finally says. He didn’t talk often because he didn’t need to. Eduardo and Jon were amusing enough. Mark usually took the backseat during most of their conversations, so whenever he gave his two cents about something, his friends always perked up. “I think it suits you.”
“Aww, thanks!”
Eduardo shoots him an incredulous look. What are you talking about? He hated hearing Jon play that stupid thing too!
Mark tries not to laugh at the confusion on his friend's face. It's true. Jon’s strumming is so bad that he wants to rip his ears off, but…
Well, he doesn’t want to say that in front of him. The last thing Mark wants to do is discourage him if this is something he's really passionate about. Besides, learning an instrument takes time. Everyone starts somewhere...
[ Another shrill note rings out from the ukulele. Eduardo groans, grabbing a pillow and slamming it over his head. Maybe if he’s lucky enough, he can suffocate himself with it. ]
...Although, Mark has no idea where Jon is starting out.
Mark turns to Eduardo, trying to search for a distraction from this torture. “But could you imagine Jon holding a big acoustic guitar?” He’s trying to fish for some sort of conversation, anything to get Jon to stop playing. “He's so tiny. You probably wouldn’t be able to see his little face behind that thing.” He hears Eduardo chuckle under the pillow. “It would be too heavy for him, it just wouldn’t look right.”
“Hey!” Jon looks up. He stops plucking at the strings.
Eduardo finally cracks up, his laughter making the bed vibrate. It’s a double win for Mark because he made Eduardo laugh, and they don’t have to hear Jon’s failed attempts at music anymore.
“That makes sense!” Eduardo manages through fits of laughter. “I guess they sell the smaller instruments to smaller people-”
“I am not small!”
...It’s stupid, but the memory still makes Mark laugh to himself.
“What's so funny?”
It’s Eduardo’s voice. It sounds more abrasive than he actually is.
Mark answers without looking up from his book. “Oh, nothing. Just read something interesting.”
Pop! The sound of a soda can opening.
He hears Jon’s footsteps patter across the apartment. Another soft thud! When Mark looks up, he finds Jon sitting on a cardboard box, ukulele in hand.
Surprisingly, the box hasn’t broken in yet. Then again, Jon is pretty small, even if he refuses to admit it.
“I wonder how she sounds...” Jon murmurs. He tries to play a chord, but it comes off sharp and wobbly.
Mark winces. The ukulele is so out of tune it’s almost painful.
“If you break any of these windows,” Eduardo pauses to take another sip from the soda can. “You’re paying for the damages.”
“Wha-!?” Jon squeaks. He looks down at the ukulele as if he's shocked by the sound it made. “But how-? I just tuned this thing!”
“You might want to tune it again...” Mark quietly says over his book. Eduardo snorts. “Or get your ears checked.”
“Or get that ukulele checked.” Eduardo finishes for him. Mark flips a page, trying to hide his smile. “I’m starting to think it’s just fuckin' with you at this point.”
They stack up insults like this often. It’s so much fun to tease Jon; he makes it too easy for them.
Like right now...
Jon is puffing up his cheeks, angry pouting. His eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance.
That's the sad thing about Jon. Whenever he tries to come off as intimidating, it looks ridiculously adorable. A blessing and a curse, Mark supposes.
“Hey,” Eduardo says, suddenly more elated than before. “I have an idea, Jon..."
Jon watches him cautiously. “What?”
“Maybe you should-”
“...Give up?” Mark supplies. Eduardo’s laughter bounces off the walls, and Mark feels his cheeks heat up.
“Hey!”
Jon crosses his arms and turns away. “Rude!” He looks like a stormy little rain cloud.
Eduardo chuckles and glances at the ukulele in his hands. “Here, I’ll even pay-”
“-For a new one?” Jon cuts him off, instantly lighting back up. He’s tapping his foot against the cardboard box, eagerly awaiting Eduardo’s response.
“...Uh, no."
Mark cackles under his book.
“But I could pay you to stop playing that thing in our house.” Eduardo clarifies.
Jon’s smile fades. He perks up again when a new idea strikes him like lightning.
“Wait, maybe I can use that money to buy another ukulele!”
“Don't even think about it!”
“Aww, come on! Don’t be like that,” Jon begs. “Please? I’ll even dedicate my next song to you!”
Mark raises a brow. He doesn’t think Jon understands the romantic implications behind that statement…
Eduardo sputters, his face going red. He tries to scream, tries to curse him out, but he keeps tripping over his words. Settles for hiding his face in his hands, embarrassed. It’s a rare moment of weakness. Mark feels lucky enough to have witnessed it.
He turns to Jon. “Was that supposed to be a selling point?”
“No!” Eduardo finally says, over and over again, like his mind is stuck on repeat. Each ‘no’ is more firm than the last. “Not-, not fucking happening!”
Jon flashes him a confident smirk. He readjusts the ukulele in his hands before strumming a sharp chord.
He clears his throat.
“OHhhhHHhHH-”
Eduardo grits his teeth, covering his ears. His face is burning red.
Mark tries to stop himself from laughing, but it spills out of him in short, airy gasps.
“Eduardo~” Jon begins to sing, purposely making eye contact with his blushing friend.“You have a glow about you..." He strums another tuneless chord. "And although, you can't control your anger, I know..." Jon makes an exaggerated wistful expression that makes Mark wheeze. "Deep down below, you really..." He switches to falsetto. "Careee~"
Eduardo’s eye twitches. His shoulders are shaking, but Mark can’t tell if it's because he's trying to contain anger or embarrassment.
Either way, it's hilarious.
What makes the situation more amusing is that Jon can actually sing. He has a pretty decent singing voice, but sometimes he’ll sing badly on purpose just to see if he can set Eduardo off.
Like right now.
Eduardo’s still trying to speak, but the only sounds coming out of his mouth are short stutters and one-word syllables.
Wow. Eduardo has officially been left speechless.
Mark can’t recall a time where he’s seen him like this before. He should stay quiet like this more often...
Jon tries to keep it together but he ends up laughing too, messing up a few chords in the process. He plays a couple more notes but none of them sound pleasant. Despite this, he seems to be getting into the music, humming and throwing in a couple of riffs here and there. They actually don’t sound terrible.
Jon plucks a few more strings before he looks at Mark for assistance. “Uh, hey, what other words rhyme with ‘Eduardo’?”
Mark laughs, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t know!” But then he realizes that the phrase he just said technically rhymes with Eduardo’s name, and it makes him laugh even harder.
“How about, no?” Eduardo finally answers, his tone clipped.
Jon frowns. “How am I supposed to write a song about you with the word, “no-’?”
“Exactly.” Eduardo hisses. “Don’t.”
Mark claps his hands, cheering Jon on. “Noo, keep going! I want to hear the rest of it!”
“Don’t encourage him!”
Jon giggles, finally deciding to give his friends a break. “Alright, fine. I’ll stop for now.” Damn, Mark actually feels a little disappointed. “But I’ll come up with better lyrics later...”
“No, you won’t.” Eduardo seethes. “Or I'll lock you out of the house tonight."
“Oh, yeah?” Jon asks, a rare look of confidence on his face. Mark thinks he should wear it more often. “You and what army?”
He was right. Mark was on his side. It was really two against one here.
Unfazed, Eduardo rolls his eyes and reaches into his pockets. After finding what he’s looking for, he smirks.
He pulls out a set of silver keys hanging on a keychain.
“This army,” He says simply.
Jon’s confident facade drops instantly.
“Well, I mean…” He looks away. “So what? Those could be anyone’s keys!” He's in denial. “They-, they could be Mark’s!”
They most definitely were not Mark’s. His own keys were sitting in his pockets, jingling whenever he sneezed.
Eduardo shakes his head. He turns his wrist a little more so Jon can get a better look. Holds the keys higher, letting the artificial light bounce off of it.
There it is, indisputable: the keys are attached to a bronze letter ‘J’ keychain.
Jon puts a hand over his mouth.
“You stole my keys?!” He screeches, mortified.
“You gave them to me!” Eduardo yells back. “You told me that you were afraid of losing them!”
Ah. Mark remembers hearing that conversation they had earlier.
“Oh, yeah...” Jon smiles sheepishly. “Hehe, guess I forgot.”
“Idiot.”
Eduardo tosses the keys back to him. Jon raises a hand and catches them effortlessly.
Mark hums, impressed.
“Alright, looks like we’re good here.” Eduardo stretches and cracks his knuckles twice. He picks up his empty soda can from the floor. “We’ll take a fifteen minute break and then we'll finish cleaning up the rest of this... junk.” He kicks an empty cardboard box to emphasize his point.
Fifteen minutes!? What-! I didn't even get to finish the rest of my book!
Before Mark can protest, Eduardo cuts him off sharply. “And yes, Mark, that means you too. Get off your ass and help us already!"
Jon giggles. He imitates Eduardo’s trademark anger behind his back, making mean faces and waving his pointer finger the same way Eduardo always does.
Mark snickers. He looks like an angry Muppet. Yup, that's Eduardo alright.
When Eduardo whirls around, Jon flinches and pretends to be tuning his ukulele.
With a grunt, Eduardo turns back to his other roommate.
"As I was saying," He speaks through clenched teeth. "Get off your ass and help us. Stop acting like you're royalty!"
“Royalty!?” Mark leaps to his feet, offended. His book drops to the floor. “So tell me, who died and put you in char-?”
The sound of Eduardo crushing the soda can echos throughout the entire apartment. It pops and cracks in his tight grip, begging for mercy.
"Alright, alright!" Mark pinches the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wants to do is start a fight right now, if it’s completely preventable for the both of them. "Fifteen minutes..."