Your Slightest Look

It was cold as Ohio could be in December, and Mark was doing fairly okay for living in California through most of the year. Amanda was practically skipping as they neared Eden Park, her hand clasped tightly with his and her lips telling him multiple facts about the band like every other teenager did when someone didn’t know about their favourite artist.

“… and they’re from here!” she gushed. “They got their name because of the drummer, Kevin, who thinks of music as a life saver, like the hand that checks your pulse so they can see that you’re alive.”

“That’s deep,” he nodded. Christmas dinner was still playing with his stomach, but Amanda was too excited for him to ruin it. Hannah had been adamant about it, since the meet-up was at seven and it would probably end late. He was okay with it, since he’d had spent some time with everyone else and the dogs on Christmas.

“Oh my god, they’re here,” she squeezed his hand and he had to grin. “Mark, please, don’t embarrass me.”

“Embarrass you?!” he began to laugh, throwing his head back. “Dear God! When did I become old enough for you to tell me that?!”

“Shush!” she giggled, pulling on his arm so they walked faster towards a little sitting crowd around one of the old benches. Mark remembered that bench fondly from High School, when his friends from band class would sit there and just talk until it was dark out and they had to go back home. “Oh my God, oh my God, Felix is here, too.”

And he was – there were two people from what he could tell. The guy was a redhead, with a pale face and probably too many freckles. He was wearing a warm, dark coat whereas the girl had a thinner one. She had lavender hair – seriously, did everyone dye their hair pastel these days? – and she was placing a flower crown on top of her head, laughing and thanking the girl who had given it.

There weren’t that many people, probably fifteen or sixteen, but it had probably more to do with the weather and the date. So as soon as Mark and Amanda were close enough, the two musicians looked up from their guitar and grinned at them, waving.

That’s when Mark realize who the guy was.

“Wait a minute,” he paused and squinted his eyes. “Are you Felix Alden?”

“Mark Fischbach,” the ginger laughed. “Of course you’re here. Is that your sister?”

“Nah, step-niece,” he patted Amanda’s firm back. “This is Amanda. Amanda, this is an old friend of mine from High School.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered, eyes wide.

“And this is Ángela,” Felix received an elbow on the ribs for that, and Mark looked at the girl and smiled. She was familiar, now that he thought about it. Amanda did say the entire band was from Ohio. Maybe she was younger when she entered High School?

“Nice to meet you,” he nodded. “So we’ll sit, because my handsome face is against robbing you both of protagonism in this fine day.”

“Anyone is welcome to talk,” Felix turned to Ángela, who was actually paler than he had seen her before. “So we were about to play some songs, since the new album is coming out in a few months, but first we thought we could answer some questions?”

A lot of hands shot to the air, and Mark looked at Amanda only to see her shrink against him, shy to be noticed by her idols. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and thought to himself ‘uh, what a coincidence.’

But not really. He knew Felix, knew the guy was a talented guitarist. Kevin, the drummer, must be Kevin Cartwright, that tall Sophomore who had always seemed too big for a much too gentle heart. He didn’t remember the name of the bassist, but he was also pretty sure that it must be Allen Ruiz, the Spaniard who had been picked on since day one because of his femininity – Mark had been a bit closer with him than anyone else on his last year of High School. The guy had been an Eighth grader with a knack for trouble and two left feet.

Now that he thought about it, Allen hadn’t been into base at all. He’d played guitar, but he’d always said his hands were too small for base. Mark looked at Ángela, and the sudden familiarity struck him immediately – of course.

“Her last name is Ruiz, right?” he whispered to Amanda, and she nodded.

That settled it. Ángela was probably Allen’s sister. She was incredibly similar to him, it was impossible for them not to be related.

“Will you make a European Tour on 2015?” a boy with snakebites and floppy, black hair asked.

“Yeah,” Felix nodded.

“Yes!” Ángela’s eyes shone emerald green and yes, she just had to be Allen’s sister. “We’ve a UK Tour planned so far, but I really want to go through central Europe, especially Spain. I haven’t been home in a long time.”

Another hand shot to the air and she pointed at the girl who practically shoved a box at her. Mark watch, intrigued, as he knew what Ángela felt. Countless times he’d received gifts from various fans, but seldom had he been able to contain the greedy excitement in his eyes that came with getting a present.

Ángela was no exception, and she thanked the fan thoroughly before opening it up. She lifted a little plushie that Mark immediately recognized as GlaDOS from the Portal games. Felix began to laugh as Ángela threw her arms around the girl, who hugged her back with enthusiasm. Mark looked at Amanda and nudged her.

“I thought you wanted to give them a letter,” he spoke.

“I-I don’t think I can,” she bit her lip. “Look at that, the girl got her a stuffed animal or… whatever. All I have a stupid letter.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it,” Mark lowered his lips and kissed her temple. “No present is better than a handwritten letter from a fan. And I can swear on that.”

“Okay,” was all she said. He squeezed her hand.

The questions were all about the band, but there were a few about her YouTube channel. After a while, Felix began to play guitar and Ángela joined in. Amanda sang beside him, and Mark didn’t recognize a single song until they began to play All the Lonely People by the Beatles. He sang under his breath and then they took a break to answer more questions.

It was easy to see the chemistry and dynamic between the two members of the band and their fans. They weren’t hysterical, like Mark knew fans could be, but they were respectful and quiet and calm. It made him happy to know that Amanda was in a bandom that would help her and take care of each other.

“Have you ever thought of making a Let’s Play with Markiplier?” a girl with white blond hair looked back at him and Mark was taken aback by it. He really did not want to become the centre of attention when this was all about the two musicians.

“Oh,” Ángela bit her lower lip. Mark thought her lips were like frost, from the paleness of them. Then her teeth dragged and he realized she had lipstick. “Well, I don’t know. My Let’s Play videos are not that good.”

“I have played Minecraft drunk over fifty times,” Mark laughed. “I don’t think you can get worse than that.”

“At least you finished Vanish,” a boy snickered from the side.

“Do not mention that game!” Mark pointed at him, making a few laugh at the theatrical tension and anger in his voice. “Never ever! Ever!”

“But you’d do a video together?” the boy pressed. “I mean, you two live in LA, it’d be easy.”

“Taylor, stop being rude,” a girl nudged him. “We’d really like it, but they don’t know each other, maybe they’re not comfortable with that.”

“I’m okay with it,” Mark shrugged, and Amanda squeezed his hand in a death grip. He just grinned.

“I-“ Ángela stuttered until Felix turned to smirk at her. “Oh, shut up, I’ll do it. Go ahead and laugh at me all you want, you little a-holes, I know you only watch my Let’s Play’s because I look ridiculous.”

“You do make weird faces,” a fan giggled.

She rolled her eyes, but it was fondly. Her hand adjusted the flower crown in her head and then the fans got comfortable enough to begin asking less serious and professional questions.

“What’s your favourite color?”

“Lavender, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“How long did you live in Spain?”

“Thirteen years.”

“Aren’t you cold? It’s freezing!”

“I’m okay, I’m used to the cold.”

“Felix, are you still dating Jenna?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Amanda was quiet the whole time, and although Mark knew she was shy, he hadn’t known it was to that point. Then again, he supposed Ángela and Felix used to seem unreachable to her, but he was so used to meeting other famous people that he couldn’t see the difference anymore.

It was about ten when people began to leave. The fans took pictures of all of them and as Mark stood with Amanda to push her towards her idols, Ángela took a Polaroid camera out and he froze on the spot.

It was Allen’s camera. He could see the chipped side and the familiar paint patterns the boy had drawn at lunch with one of those thin, thin paintbrushes he’d had. A sense of dread filled him as his mind processed the thought.

“This song is about coping with losing someone close, losing family,” she’d said before, when they were about to play a song Amanda had told him was for the new album.

Had Allen… died? Had he passed away and he hadn’t even thought about him twice in years? Guilt swelled inside his ribcage, his hands beginning to sweat. Allen couldn’t have been older than twenty one today, what could have possibly caused his death? Did Amanda know? He couldn’t look at the camera. He couldn’t look at it without seeing Allen trying to bite the polish off his nails in the boys bathroom so his classmates wouldn’t make fun of him. He just couldn’t.

“Mark?” Amanda frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he swallowed, grinned for her benefit and watched as the fans began to leave. “Yeah, I’m okay, Mandy. Go ahead and give them the letter.”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath, marched two steps and then shot her hand out for Ángela to see the pretty, lavender letter with Amanda’s neatest handwriting.

“Oh, is this for me?” her hands were gentle as she took it.

“For everyone,” Amanda relaxed as soon as Mark placed a hand over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “In Pulse Point – Kevin and Wade.”

“Thank you,” Felix grinned and opened his arms. “Want a hug?”

“Yes,” she plastically ran to the redhead, crushing him in a desperate embrace as he laughed. “Oh my God, I love your music so much.”

“I had guessed so,” Ángela was treating the camera as gently as the letter in the other hand, looking at his step-niece fondly. “You sang along, I could see you.”

“Yeah,” she blushed, then hugged Ángela, too, when the singer offered it. “I know every song.”

“I’m flattered,” Felix placed a hand over his chest before his eyes drifted to Mark. “But, you know, your step-uncle is a pretty cool guy, too.”

“Oh, yeah, he is!” Amanda grasped Mark’s hand again and smiled at him. “It’s because of him I could come here today!”

“Well, I’m glad you came,” Ángela snapped a picture of Felix and Amanda and gave it to her. Mark felt slightly sick, but he held it in. “Want a selfie? You can keep it!”

“Yes!” Amanda skipped over to her and Mark turned to Felix as soon as the girl was busy.

“Allen,” he blurted, and Felix’s eyes immediately softened. “Allen, what happened to him?”

“Uh,” Felix ran a hand through his ginger locks and winced. “It’s… complicated, Mark.”

“Ángela’s got his Polaroid,” he looked at the pair of girls taking pictures, saw so much Allen in her that it sent a flash of pain through his chest. “Did something happen to him?”

“Oh my God, I am not doing this for her,” the guitarist took his phone out and looked at Mark. “Allen is kinda complicated right now, but give me your number and we’ll talk it through.”

“What are we talking through?” Ángela interrupted, her hand moving quickly to surround Felix’s wrist. “Felix, what are you doing?”

“He’s asking about Allen,” the ginger shot him a look, one Mark couldn’t decipher. “And I am not telling him, it’s yours to tell.”

“I don’t have to tell him shit,” Ángela frowned, then glared at Mark. “I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“Ángela!” Felix voiced, but Mark was far too worried.

“Is he okay, at least?” he looked at the camera. “He… never let anyone even touch his Polaroid.”

“How can you remember the camera?” Ángela glared furiously at him, and he was taken off-guard by the familiarity of it. “How can you remember about my goddamn camera and not recognize me?”

“You?” Mark was slow sometimes, yet as soon as he looked at her, found her eyes, found her nose, found her lips and that little, tiny scar on her exposed collarbone it all made sense. “No way.”

“Yes way,” she crossed her arms and he leaned further to catch every freckle of her irises. “Now you see it?”

“Allen?” he gaped.

“Hello, Mark,” she said.