Oh Weston

chapter one.

"Why'd you have to take me here for our anniversary?" I complain as I trudge across the parking lot, Mark's fingers intertwined with mine. Waffle style. My eyes squint slightly as we approach the obnoxious neon sign that read "McLaughlin's" in loopy letters.

"I thought it would be a good place considering your discount and all that," Mark gives my hand a squeeze and I lean against his beefy arm, trying not to relive the last time I was at this bar, which just so happened to belong to one of my adoptive dads. Feeling the tension glide off of me, I let out a little laugh. Mark always knows how to find a bargain.

We walk in and I make note of all the changes. The jukebox that only plays my dads' songs is collecting dust in the corner of the room where the employee bathroom is, the once calmingly dim lights that dangled from the ceiling had been replaced with seizure-inducing strobe lights, and a DJ was set up on the stage that used to host "Live Music Mondays". At the bar the regular crowd was gone, now replaced by a bunch of horribly intoxicated, probably underaged young people clambering on top of each other for the nearest drink.

Mark tugs on my arm, snapping me out of my uncomfortably nostalgic daze. We shuffle past sloppy dancers and pervy men to the tiny tables that used to be spaced nicely throughout the whole room. "Felix, Sean, this is y/n. She's my [girlfriend/boyfriend/partner]," the two men, one significantly more attractive than the other, stand up to greet me. One confidently goes for a handshake and the other offers a fist bump. I smile widely and exchange hello's, but get interrupted as someone slams into my back. I get sent clattering to the floor and bang my funny bone against Mark's kneecap. Great. A hand is extended towards me through the darkness, and I assume it belongs to my boyfriend so I grab it without caution.

"That was quite the tumble!" An unfamiliar voice laughs, the flashes of light revealing each of his features to me intermittently. Short, light brown hair. Brown eyes. Freckles. Smoochable lips. "Sorry about that," he hands my hand off to Mark and runs off. I stand bewildered by him, scanning the crowd for one more glimpse of his godlike features.

"Are you okay?" Mark pulls me closer into a hug and I nod. We sit down next to his friends and get offered beers, which only Mark accepts.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" Felix asks and laughs drunkenly. I try to shrug it off given his stupor and roll my eyes while the strobes are flashed off. "Mark, did your bitch just roll her eyes at me?" I gasp as he slams his beer bottle against the table and leans closer to me, and I look over to Mark expectantly. However, his eyes are laser-focused on the label of his beer bottle.

I muster up as much confidence as I can and squeak out a "What did you just say?". Sean watches Mark as closely as I do as Felix gets out of his seat and approaches our side of the table.

With stanky breath enveloping our noses, Felix blankly says, "Knock. It. Off." Mark still shows no reaction other than an apologetic look to Sean.

I hit Mark on the shoulder and gesture to the musty man in front of us, trying to get him to do something. "Just chill out, y/n," Mark hisses at me under his breath. I scoff and get up, storming right through the dancers and making a point to shove as many of them I can, Sue Sylvester style.

The door flies closed behind me and I crumple down against the side of the building, letting tears cascade down my cheeks.

My sobbing is interrupted by a not-so-unfamiliar voice, "Hey, you okay?" I look up at the clumsy stranger and wipe away the tears falling from my cheeks onto the pavement. Causing me to freeze up, he reaches towards my nose and gently swipes off a tear that was crawling down the bridge, and starts laughing to himself.

"Should I eat it?" He says and brings the hand up to his mouth, making me laugh and roll my eyes as I push his hand away jokingly. "I guess more for you," he jokes and sits down next to me, delicately placing his hand on my shoulder.

"What happened in there? Was that Markiplier, PewDiePie, and Jacksepticeye?" I shrug his hand off of me and realize he's just another fan who wants some insight into the "extremely interesting" lives of gaming YouTubers.

"Yeah... yeah, it was. I can't get you an autograph or anything, okay?" I rest my head in between my legs and let the tears start again; this time it's even worse than before.

"Hey, that's not what I want. I just wanted to know if you're okay," He nudges me slightly and I nudge him back, actually believing him.

"We just got into an argument, you know? It's Mark and my anniversary: we've been dating for one year. And his friends didn't seem to like me not wanting to drink the crappy beer my dad buys for this place," I sigh, frustrated, and push myself off the ground, moving past sadness into anger. I offer my hand to the man this time and help him up, his face illuminated perfectly in the light of the lamppost. He is so freaking hot! I inconspicuously smooth down my hair and take note of every aspect of his appearance. His hair is neatly swooped over to the left side of his head. Well, my left, his right. His fingers are boney in a cute sort of way but look like it might be painful to hold hands waffle-style with him. If you put his two nostrils together and put them where the bridge of his nose is now, the nostrils would probably have a smaller width, but that's a good thing. He is marvelous.

"Sounds rough..." we make eye contact for a moment until I look away, feeling blood rush to my cheeks, "Do you like AJR?" he asks out of nowhere as he taps his shoe against the concrete without even the slightest semblance of music being able to be heard from the exterior of the club.

"Um, sure? Yeah, yeah," I scrunch my nose up at him and he laughs, his eyes lighting up.

"OMG same! They're such a vibe," I can't help but smile from ear to ear as he starts dancing to the silence hanging over us. I know it's my anniversary with Mark, but I can't not dance with him.

I start singing the lyrics to "Drama" and he pauses, amazed by my melodic voice. I grab his arm and lead him to my favorite spot, the employee parking lot, hopping up on the car that got abandoned there after a guy robbed a bank when I was seven.

As we reach the end of the final chorus, I hear Mark call my name from the front of the building. The boy looks at me and helps me down from the car. I start to jog to Mark inconspicuously, but turn around and pause. One last look. "Thank you" I mouth and head off again, dreading the car ride home with Mark.