Septiplier one shots

The House On Warner Hill

By Galaxy_Ghost

"Mark, you have to come with us this time."

Mark scrubbed his fingers over his face. "No. C'mon, Wade, you know I hate parties. They're full of loud people and drunk people-who, on their own are manageable, but together? Talk about headaches."

His best friend rolled his eyes. "In all of our years together, when have I ever made you do something that you didn't want to do, and it turned out terrible?"

"Well there was that one time on the swings," Mark deadpanned. "And then the time with the tree, and the snow on the roof, and that time with the baseball bats--"

"Besides that!" Wade held up his hands, cutting his stream of memories off. "I'm serious, Mark. You can't go through college without going to at least one of Sean McLoughlin's house parties. They are practically legendary. Not to mention fun as all hell. The Irish really know how to throw 'em."

Mark flopped back against his bed. This was an age old argument. Wade was constantly trying to get Mark to branch out a little bit, make some other friends rather than just him and Bob-but Mark always insisted that he was fine having just a few friends. And he was. Mark Fischbach wasn't the party type-that's all there was to it. So there was no way he was going to Sean McLoughlin's house party. That was that.

"I'm not going," Mark said, leaving no room for argument. "I don't want to. I'd be uncomfortable, and I'd make everyone I talked to miserable. Really, it's a waste of time and energy for me."

Wade groaned in exasperation. "Just this once, Mark. Okay? If you hate it, I'll never make you go again. On my honor. So please, just come to this one. You can leave early if it gets that bad. But just give it a try, will you?"

Mark stared for a moment, willing himself to say no. But this was the easiest way to get himself out of the situation. It was a house party-it would go on for hours. Wade had offered to let him leave early if he was uncomfortable, which he likely would be right at the start. He could get in, stay for half an hour, and leave to the safety of his apartment, where he could turn on some Netflix. They had recently put out all of the episodes of Bill Nye...

"Mark?" Wade interrupted his thoughts. "Mark. Is it a yes or a no, buddy?"

He sighed, resigned. "Alright, alright. I'll go. But just this once. And the minute I get uncomfortable, I'm out. You can hitch a ride back with someone else."

"Fine!" Wade was beaming, seemingly pleased with the turn of events. He probably thought he'd have to go through way more persuading. Perhaps Mark should have drawn it out a little longer, but oh well. "That's fine. This is great. You're gonna have a great time."

"I doubt it," Mark commented dryly. "Wade, are you forgetting that almost no one knows who I am? If anything, I'm just gonna get a lot of drunk people asking me "who?" every chance they get."

Wade raised a curious brow. "Really? I mean, yeah, you don't branch out a lot, but I thought you were pretty well known, at least in your department. Everyone goes to McLoughlin's, Mark, it's like a staple for college life. But really, are you sure you're unknown? I mean, McLoughlin invited you personally, remember?"

"What?"

"Oh," Wade said. "Guess I never told you. Yeah, I had him come to me a little while back. Said he was having this party, and he asked if I'd bring you along. Didn't know you two were tight?"

Mark swallowed. Sean McLoughlin asked for him? That seemed unlikely. Wade had to have been joking with him. Sean McLoughlin was a tad out of his ballpark, their social circles drastically different. They had exchanged a handful of words over the course of their college lives-but that was it. They were the exact opposite of tight.