The rest of the night went as close to clean as possible. I mean, I played I Am Bread... Mark didn't. I tried to make him, but it didn't work. I think breaking one controller was enough for him.
To be honest, I am a boss at this game. I can run through the valley of death, but I choose the easy way- climbing the walls. Mark got mad at me because apparently I shouldn't have been this good. My response was simply, "Since when do I do what I am supposed to do?"
It ended extremely late, around two A.M, so I just slept on his couch. Normally I would've declined the offer, but I had nothing set up to sleep on, and I wanted to fall alseep to Netflix.
"(YN)," Mark shook me awake, and may I say I wanted to kill him at this point.
"She's not available at the moment," I groggily answered. "Leave a message after the beep."
"(YN)!" He shouted this again, as if he was angry, but once again he had a smile on his face.
"Beeeppp..." My voice cracked a little, like it did sometimes when I sang.
Mark decided to not leave a message and instead went into the kitchen area to make breakfast. There was so much banging around in there though, it was hard to get back to sleep. It annoyed me, simply because I had to get up and record a video before everyone freaked out, but now if I just left and fell back asleep in my apartment, I didn't have a legitimate excuse anymore.
"Shut up in there," I took an extra pillow lying on the ground, throwing it in the hazy direction of Mark, but I hear it land somewhere nowhere close.
"You need to get up," I hear more banging, but then it stops and I can hear him coming closer. All too late, I hurry to get up, but the pillow lands on my head with an unexpected, lame 'ploof.'
For a moment, I don't do anything but sit and shake my head. Trying to think of a way to get him back, I let Mark laugh, but then grab the pillow and throw it in his face.
"That's what you get when you let your heart win," I know, I know, singing Paramore songs is lame, but it was a perfect opportunity.
"But the heart wants what it wants." We both laugh at the lame references. Before anything though, I told him I needed to go get Starbucks.
"I'll be quick. Want anything?" When he nodded his head no, I hurried out of the apartment. It was late fall, so I stopped by my room to grab my coat and while I was at it, grabbed my vlog camera. Time for more virtual logging.
"Hey everyone," I said, alone in the elevator. "It's me again, and right now I'm on my way to Starbucks. You guys know already know I can't go without hot drinks during the cold months, otherwise I feel disconnected from earth."
Before I can continue with the video, my phone starts spazzing out with notifications. To be honest, it doesn't freak me out. Last night's stream probably threw people into a frenzy, trying to find the crazy girl's YouTube, Twitter, Instagram, the likes.
What does freak me out, however, is that they're all generally the same thing. "Look, your little freakout is online now. Just wait until my Markimoo finally sees how crazy you are, and then he'll be mine!"
More then freaked me out, it saddened me. People are still acting as if he was some worshipping object. Really, he's a human being, just like everyone else.
"Sorry guys," I say to the camera, still looking at my phone. "It's just some tweets from the stream last night. If you didn't know, I streamed with someone potentially awesome... but the fan's might not be too pleased about it."
The last notification to pop up was from YouTube. "InfiniteRayOfBlack has uploaded a video." I clicked on it, expecting it to be a bragging video about being able to meet Mark and such. I was surprised to see it wasn't. In fact, it wasn't even to build her up. It was to break me down.
"Freaky girl's psychotic rage on Mark stream." I didn't even have to look at the thumbnail to know it was me.