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Mark yawned as he lit up the neon “OPEN” sign hanging above the glass door. His coffee had yet to kick in yet, and he practically felt like he was sleepwalking. God knew why a florist shop had to be open before the sun came up, but his boss was weirdly anal about things like that. He wanted to be open “as early as the gardeners get up”.
Mark didn’t know of any gardeners that got up extremely early just so that they could buy flowers to plant in the dark…but then again, he didn’t know any gardeners at all.
He didn’t have a particular passion for flowers; he just needed a steady job while he tried to make this whole YouTube thing work out (because ad rev is kind of a joke when you only have 300 subscribers). The florist’s shop had been the only place hiring that was willing to let him off before evening.
It worked out for his schedule fine; he just wished he didn’t have to get up so damn early. It left him feeling drained, and there weren’t any customers before nine anyway, so what good was it doing the store?
Ah, well. He wasn’t paid enough to ask those kinds of questions. Instead, he grabbed a broom and dustpan and began the process of sweeping up any stray bits of dirt that had fallen on the floor.
He was only at it for about ten minutes before the door swung open, ringing the little silver bell that hung overhead.
Surprised, Mark turned around and was about to greet the customer with the customary fake smile and Welcome to Flowey’s! How may I help you?, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he noticed that the person was doubled over and panting.
“Uh…are you okay, sir?”
The man looked up, and Mark noticed that while he looked otherwise normal—albeit somewhat lanky, but not abnormally so—he had a shock of green fringe that fell over his forehead when he stood up straight.
“I…need…flowers…” He was still breathing heavily, as though he’d just finished a 5k, and his face was as red as an apple.
“I…I think you might need some water first,” Mark said cautiously, taking a step back. “Can I get you some? We have bottles in the back.”
The stranger nodded wordlessly, putting one hand on a lawn ornament display to steady himself. Mark continued to stare at him, wondering if he was going to rob the store or something, but in the end compassion won out over suspicion. He rushed to the back and returned with a cold bottle of water from the fridge.
“Thanks,” the guy said in a rough voice. He opened the bottle with almost feral urgency and downed half of it in three gulps.
Mark watched this, crossing his arms and trying to relax. “So, why’re you so out of breath?” he asked when he’d stopped drinking.
The man wiped his upper lip and met Mark’s gaze. “I ran the whole way here,” he said, as though it were completely normal. Now that he was no longer gasping for breath and speaking fluidly, Mark noticed that he had a particularly thick accent.
Mark leaned against an adjacent table, studying the customer up and down. If he weren’t so busy trying to figure out this guy’s M.O., he might’ve paid more attention to the fact that he was uncommonly attractive.
“Okay, but why did you run the whole way here?”
The guy blushed somewhat, and he took another sip of water awkwardly. “I, uh…I forgot an important date, so I needed to buy some flowers ASAP.”
Mark nodded understandingly. People occasionally came flying into the store to buy last-minute anniversary or Valentine’s Day bouquets.
“What’s the occasion?” he asked. “Did you forget your girlfriend’s birthday or something?”
That made the man laugh so hard Mark wondered what joke he’d accidentally told.
“Girlfriend?! Oh no, dude, you’ve got the wrong idea,” he coughed out eventually. “Try my mom’s birthday. I’ve never had a girlfriend in my fuckin’ life.”
Oh. Well then. “Well, uh, do you need help picking anything out then?”
He looked about the store, chewing on his lower lip as he surveyed the selection. “Do you have any tiger lilies? They’re my mom’s favorite, but I don’t have a fuckin’ clue what they look like.”
Mark smirked. “C’mon, I’ll help you find some.”
He led the customer towards the back of the store, past the register and the backroom where he’d run to get him his water. The customer continued looking around in fascination.
“So…this may sound weird, but do I know you from somewhere?” he asked Mark eventually. Mark glanced at him sideways.
“Uh…not that I’m aware of. Why?”
“You seem familiar. Do you do anything online?”
“I have a YouTube channel. It’s not very popular yet, though.”
The customer’s whole face lit up, and he grabbed Mark suddenly by the wrist. Mark was too surprised to even jump back.
“Oh my God, I knew it! You’re that Markiplier guy, aren’t you?!”
Mark blinked in shock. “What—do you watch my channel?”
“Yeah! I haven’t been subscribed long, just a couple’a weeks, but—”
“Fuck it, dude, that’s still cool! Thank you so much!” Mark beamed, feeling his own face heat up a little with pride. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“It’s Jack. Uh, it’s Jacksepticeye on YouTube, actually. I started my own channel about a month ago.”
“You did? I’ll go look at it.”
“You will?!”
“Well yeah, sure. You had the decency to look at my shit, so I’ll go look at yours.”
Jack’s smile was practically a reward in and of itself. “Jesus, dude, thank you. That’s kind of an honor.”
Mark rolled his eyes to conceal his embarrassment. “No it’s not. I’m just some punk-ass moron who works as a florist in the daytime.”
“So? I’m the asswipe who forgot his mom’s birthday. Can’t say that any of us are too perfect, can you?”
Mark tried to think of a quick response, but he suddenly realized that Jack was still gripping his wrist. He didn’t entirely know what to do about it (or if he should do anything at all), but Jack seemed to realize it too, and he let go quickly and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.
They continued walking towards the back of the store, where Mark showed him pots of growing tiger lilies. Jack scrutinized them for all of five seconds before picking out a big pot of particularly wild blooms and struggling to haul it in front of him.
“Do you want a cart or something?” Mark asked. Jack shook his head, even as his muscles strained.
“No, I…I think I got it,” he huffed.
Mark smirked a little. “Let me carry it for you.”
“Why? I told you, I’ve got it.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. I don’t wanna be sweeping up bits of porcelain and soil here in a couple minutes.”
Jack accepted defeat and handed over the flowers, which Mark palmed easily and walked up to the front counter to ring them up.
“Do you carry a lot of big flowerpots around every day?” Jack asked with a small chuckle.
Mark smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, it depends how many old ladies and weakling little boys come in to buy big plants.”
Jack’s face heated up, and he reached across the counter to shove Mark’s shoulder. “Shut up, we can’t all get out and bench press porcelain pots every mornin’!”
“That’s quitter talk, young man.”
“Don’t call me ‘young man.’ I’d be willin’ to bet we’re the same age.”
“Oh yeah? I’m twenty-seven.”
“Well I’m twenty-six, so bite me.”
“That’s one year of wisdom off there, kiddo. Now shut up and respect your elders.”
Jack rolled his eyes while Mark finished ringing him up and offered to carry it out to his car. Jack didn’t protest, and they walked out into the dimly-lit parking lot together.
“So, hey, listen,” Jack asked, and he seemed nervous, like he was getting up the nerve for something. “You have a let’s-play channel, right?”
“Um, yes. You said you watched it, right?”
“Yeah, I do, I was just segueing into my next question,” Jack said quickly. “I run a let’s-play channel too, it’s super small and pitiful right now, but I was wondering if….”
Mark glanced at him as he fell silent. “If what, Jack?”
Jack gulped, then looked over at him with a burst of courage. “If you’d maybe wanna make a video together sometime?”
Mark raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jack turned right suddenly, and Mark thought he might be running off until he realized they’d reached his car. Jack opened the passenger door, and Mark eased the pot onto the seat.
“What kind of games do you play?” Mark asked once he’d freed himself of the heavy plant.
Jack shrugged, looking a little self-conscious. “A little bit of everythin’, really. Shooting games, racing games, flash, indie, triple-A titles—”
“Do you play GMOD at all?”
“Well yeah, of course.”
Mark smiled. “Some friends of mine have been talking about starting a ‘Prop Hunt’ series on the channel. Would you be interested in joining us?”
Jack looked up, his eyes shining. “Really? You’re serious?”
“Well yeah, sure, why not?”
“I’m…are you sure you don’t wanna check any of my content first? Make sure I’m good enough to be in a video with you and your friends?”
Mark glanced at Jack up and down, taking in his wrinkly T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans, and the way his whole face seemed to move when his mood changed. Right then he was smiling—a little cautiously, but also with a lot of hope and excitement—and now that Mark wasn’t busy wondering if the poor guy was gonna drop dead from exhaustion, he was able to fully appreciate just how attractive he was.
Mark leaned against Jack’s car with a smug grin. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that the store opened super early after all.
“Nah, I’ve got instincts about this sorta shit. I think you’ll fit right in.”