We're Not So Different

Welcome to Ireland

(y/n) POV

  ( I won't bore you with the details of the plane ride to Ireland. I literally just read Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children  [it was in my backpack] and listened to music.) 

   When we landed in the airport in Dublin, there was car waiting for us. Mr. Stoe had gotten a rental. I listened to Hamilton all the way to Jack's apartment. I started wondering what it was going to be like living with. I felt like I already knew him from his videos, but actually living with him? It would obviously be different. I should probably keep my music down while he's recording...

   "We're here," Mr. Stoe said, "Are you ready?" 

   "I think so." I took my earbuds out my ears and got my backpack out the trunk. Everything I had (except for Luna, who is in my arm) was now in there.

   We walked up to the apartment. Mr. Stoe took out a piece of paper that must of had the floor and door number on it. We went up to the fourth, and stop at the first door on the left. Mr. Stoe knocked on the door. It opened...

   There he was, green hair and all. Jacksepticeye. I have dreamed of meeting him for 3 years. Now he was right in front of me. If only it wasn't because... that.

   "Good afternoon, Mr. McLaughlin. I'm Mr. Stoe. We talked on the phone. This is (y/n)." Mr. Stoe motioned for me to say something. 

   "Hi," I said. It was all I could get out without simultaneously fangirling and bursting into tears.

   "Hey," Jack replied. 

   There a moment of silence between us.

   "Well, this isn't awkward at all," Ob replied snarkily.

   "Shut up," I thought.

   "Well, I hate to just dropped you off and run, but I have to catch my place back to America," Mr. Stoe said. He handed my card with a phone number on it. "If something comes up. Let me know." He walked away.

   "Mr. Stoe," I called out, "Thank you. For everything."

   "You're very welcome," he said with a sad smile on his face. That was the last I ever saw of him.

   "So... care to come in," Jack said, trying to lighten the mood. I walked through the door.

   "I'm uh... uh I'm sorry about-" Jack started.

   "Stop," I interrupted," I'm don't get why people apologize when someone dies. If you didn't start the fire that killed my parents, you have nothing to be sorry for." I was so tired from the ride here and everything had been going on, that Ob had come out. Not that I didn't agree with her. I took a second to regain control.

   "Sorry," I said, It's been long day."

   "I get it," Jack said, "I'll show you to your room."

   We walked down a short hallway, "my room" at the end of it. The walls were painted (f/c), the same color on the bed. A black desk in the corner.

   "If you need anything, let me know," that was the third time someone had that to me in 24 hours, "And please call me Sean. You don't have to formal with me."

   "Would...would you mind if I called you Jack instead," I knew that as soon as I said, he would know I watch his channel. I didn't know how he would react, but he just smiled.

   "Of course. I'll let you get comfortable."

   When Jack closed the door, everything started crashing down on me. I suppose that a part of me thought this could just be a nightmare. Standing in a different bedroom, in a country, something clicked that this real. I dropped down to my knees and cried right there on the floor. 

   It was the first time I had properly cried since I heard about the fire.