Deleted (A Markiplier x Reader Fanfiction)

You were just another awkward fangirl, with another cliché as to how you stumbled upon Markiplier on YouTube, who saved you from killing yourself. Even you sometimes wondered if you were lying because it sounded so cliché. You moved out of your parent's house, finally. Never have you seen Mark in public before, never have you even had enough money. All you had was your YouTube 'career,' as you called it. You barely had enough subscribers to make it a full-time job. Not that you were complaining. You liked how it felt like a family. Not even a day after moving in, you find out that it's the same apartment Mark lives in. You can smell the cliché-esque scent a mile away, from whatever lair creates fanfiction ideas. At first glance, it seemed pretty cliché. But, after you got to know each other, it didn't seem so. And that isn't an understatement or a lie- it's the legit truth.


5. Why do bad things happen to good people?

The most suckish part about today wasn't the fact my own sister was against me- it was the fact I was getting recognized in public. It wasn't that bad when I got to Starbucks, seeing as it was quite empty, besides a bored looking employee with glasses. In the front, they were black, but on the sides the were hot pink.
"Hey," I called to her. As soon as she saw who I was, she started grinning.
"Ah, the alleged 'girliplier,' She said this jokingly, thankfully, as I walked up to the counter.
"You too, huh?" She nodded energetically, her brown ponytail bobbing up and down. I looked at her nametag, which read 'Danyelle.' It was a unique twist on a classic.
"I'm obsessed with YouTube, how could I not know?" I told her my single order, and she started working.
"I know, right. There's no way to get away from something on there." She had no clue, or maybe she did. I didn't know her life story.
"So, what's your name?" She asks, putting a little bit more then the standard amount of whipped cream.
"(YN)," I replied, handing her my credit card. Sadly, my phone came out as well, landing to the floor with a distinct plastic thud.
"Crap..." I bent down to grab it, mad at myself for removing the protective case on it, swearing I would stop dropping it. Sadly enough, the screen was cracked, enough to where I could hardly see my lock screen.
"Is it okay?!" It seemed Danyelle was more concerned about the phone's wellbeing then she would be a person's.
"Nope," I replied, standing back up and setting the phone on the counter. "Might as well be dead."
She frowned, looking genuinely sad. "Well, by this rate, you should be making more money from YouTube to buy a new one."
I laughed at that, seeing how that was true. Maybe this wasn't all bad...
I left, promising to come back later tonight before her shift end, and did my best to hurry to the apartments and drink my now perfect-temperature drink. Thankfully, I did it without any encounters of crazed fans (or, as I call them, fangirls), and as soon as I got in the building I took out my long-forgotten vlog camera.
"Sorry that you missed the coffee run, I kinda got sidetracked there. You'll meet her tonight, she's really cool." I pressed the up button on the elevator, annoyed I had to wait. All I wanted to do was go eat breakfast with Mark, reluctantly going to my own apartment to game some more.
"Besides that, I ran into some fans. And not my own, they're from the person I streamed with." Keeping his identity a secret, although extremely futile, made it seem like I was keeping it casual. Right?
Almost five minutes had passed, and still the elevator hadn't come. So, annoyed, I started on the stairs. The building in all was about fifteen stories, and I got stuck on the tenth. Beautiful, right? At first, I thought I was going to die because was it rare when I worked out, but then I made it a funny part of the video. I was known for my strange comedic self.
"Markkkk!" I shouted once I got to the tenth floor, already knowing everyone else was out. "Markie Mark, come out come out wherever you are!"
When Mark didn't come out of the apartment, I was wondering if he didn't hear me. He might've been recording for all I know, so I knocked on the door, still recording. No answer. So, like any other concerned friend, I tried the knob. It was open, but as soon as I walked in, I wished I didn't.
There he was, Markiplier, my crush of now ten years, my friend of two days, was kissing another girl.

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