T H R E E
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As soon as the words left Jack's mouth, he regretted it. Mark's nostrils flared and in seconds he was mere inches away from Jack, his eyes blazing a cold fire.

"How dare you disrespect me," he said, his voice deadly calm.

Jack swallowed past the lump in his throat. Disrespect you? he thought angrily. How about how dare you disrespect me! But he didn't speak his opinion out loud. Instead, he mustered up his courage and wrestled himself away from Mark and his challenging stare.

"Look, I'm not here to fight. I have been sitting here, looking for—" just as he started speaking, the phone rang. The familiar sound greeted his ears, but he wasn't eager to hear it. He jabbed a finger towards the direction the noise was coming from. "Looking for you," he finished. "Taking up calls from complete strangers just to find out if they've seen you or heard from you. Hours and hours and hours. Days without sleep, days wondering if you were still alive—"

"But I am alive now!" Mark interrupted, his voice catching and raising at the end.

"W-what?" Jack stuttered, shocked by the outburst. What does he mean, 'I am alive now'?

"I said, I am alive now. Why, is that not acceptable for you?" Mark inquired, eyes flashing.

"What—well of course it's acceptable!" He exclaimed, frustrated and a bit creeped out. "But you've been alive all this time, Mark. I don't know what you mean—"

"Just stop!" Mark snapped, raising his hands into the air. "Stop." He took a deep breath, clearly collecting himself. He seemed to think for a moment before speaking again. "Look, can I just crash here for a couple of nights? I'll let all my fans know I'm alright in the morning."

Jack blinked, surprised by the sudden change. "Uh, yeah. Of course you can stay here. You can take my room, if you want. I'll sleep on the couch, no problem. But how'd you get to Ireland in the first place?"

Mark laughed dryly, which unsettled Jack. "It's a long story. . ." He simply responded before stalking down the hallway towards Jack's room.

No 'thank you Jack for worrying, slaving away at trying to find me, and then accepting me into your home with open arms at short notice'? he wondered sarcastically, trudging over to where the phone was. He shut it down so he couldn't receive any more calls before turning out the lights and collapsing onto the couch. A pillow and blanket were already there from earlier camp-outs. He snuggled beneath his thin covers and rested his head gently onto his pillow, closing his eyes.

Finally, he welcomed sleep.