“Marc with a C”
It’s way past midnight, days went by since he last told you about the date, Friday. It was sunday, you were concerned, spam texts ,bombing his phone in calls and many voicemails that filled up his box. You showed up in your best outfit and he hadn’t shown, you were furious. To think the guys in America would be so different from the men from Europe, especially London (Maybe it was time to lay off the shows and movies). Eating by yourself and scarfing down your heart break.
Monday. Steven apparently had been released, the museum's bathroom was in shambles; sinks were broken and mirror pieces were scattered all over, even the checkered floor was busted. You ask J.B. since everyone else was avoiding you, apparently Steven had broken it but no camera was nearby the bathrooms. Steven had come in and left minutes before you had since you overslept, seeing the paused footage of Steven in camera, the intuition in your gut, you knew this wasn’t Steven's doing, not the man you knew. Face was more hardened, a more sour look.
You never quit since that day, you knew Steven will come back but not in a way you have expected.
When you had seen him for the first time in days, your world was bright and light again but he was in a little motor bike and… he was holding a woman, arms holding her waist to raise questions and all you heard was “wife..” faint but it was loud enough for you to hear. To feel your heart break into bits and fall like snow as your blood was running ice.
Friday this week. You could barely function better than a misprogrammed robot, your hair in a messy bun to match in the scramble of anger and despair with your dark circles eyes. You turned to a lighter shade when you could never bring yourself to touch grass, you became Donna’s Steven or calling you Stephanie to joke, making you work overtime and not sometimes paying you for them. You worked late in inventory , scanning items, making sure things were in stock and in the correct places. Walking into the empty room barely being used, you open the lights as you flash bangs instantly, rubbing your eyes and squinting till you are fully adjusted.
To your surprise, Steven was sitting there, his face hidden from you, covering his eyes as he probably flashed as well. A deep hiss leaving him till he dropped a hand to look at you. The same man from the footage, a hardened, cold face staring right at you, to touch his face was an urge to single you back into the real world. A long pause with you two having a staring contest till you had to break the silence “Steven…?” you call for the man you thought you knew, returning the look of a dog left in the rain, “Y/n…” he responds, with a clean american accent. He stands, standing tall and bold to tower over you “I’ve heard about you”
“Steven…” your voice weak as your eyes were starting to water, your nose stuffy and wiping your ugly crying face to not embarrass yourself now.
He sighed, to have a hand land on your shoulder, rubbing slightly “I’m not Steven” he tells you, you nudge his hand to get off, stuffing it into his pants pocket “I’m marc, Y/n…”
Trying to explain his condition as silence takes over, he stares dead at you, making you back up as he steps closer. Making this very unsettling. Steven is a version of me that people will like better, Steven is my alter since I have this thing called D.I.D, A personality I put on when I’m drunk or high. One of few people that live in my head, I could have more, He’s an imaginary friend!! .
“Steven… is a personality” He said but it was quick to catch on with. It confused you but he seemed to have it under control, afraid you might just leave and abandon him the longer you stood and looked at him “I have Dissociative Identity Disorder… I have a personality in my head, he’s steven”
“Okay… Marc…So why have you been gone for so long? ” You couldn’t stay mad, you couldn’t even raise your voice in fear that he’ll punch a hole in the wall next to you. Another pause comes in, how can you explain to a normal civilian that you were battling with Egyptian gods and died for a while without sounding insane?
Marc knows he can’t lie about this, no way, not so fast either “I was in Egypt with an ex-wife of mine, things happened, I almost lost her, She almost lost me” So blunt, so vague, he seemed to not go into full details of the days he was gone, but it seemed to sum up what happened.
He wasn’t going to give up his vigilante identity just yet, just coming back from the middle east. You decided to not push further, assuming something tragic had happened. You looked at the time on your watch, 11:07pm; you could’ve locked the doors by now and caught the bus.
“So you don’t remember the date we had last friday… do you..?” Marc, surprisingly, shook his head “we share the same body” duh!!
You couldn’t write your head around this, personalities hearing your conversations… God knew what conversations both you and Steven had together and had Marc hear.
“Look I can’t keep you hear for much longer” you tell him abruptly, “I enjoyed our talk and all… but I- we can talk this through some other time, I have your contact” The two guys seemed similar, same facial structure; honed and cut cheek bones, dark brown eyes that sagged, and pink lips that just…
Marc, again, shook his head, cracking a small smile. He couldn’t come back, both guys were basically banned from stepping a foot, that couldn’t stop marc.
You walk him out, holding his forearm as you drag him about the museum, one last check for any more parties that snuck in. Would it have been best for him to walk back to your place…? You live at a good distance but it was in the early mornings with the sun down.
“Hey marc..” you locked the doors and grabbed the handles, yanking it to be sure. He glances over the corner of his eyes, not moving an inch and just stands like a statue “Can you walk me home, I- it’s silly but I just want to get there safe” A slight burn on your cheeks as you start to regret but Marc understood.
The walk was quiet, music of crickets and footsteps echoing all around, streetlights brighten your path, fingers holding his tensing forearm, boggling one question or a few since the vague answer of his disappearance “So how come you went to Egypt?”
Marc tilted his head slightly as he walked, looking over then back at you “I needed… to take things off my mind… lots of stress after serving” The answer that was more clear and didn’t push it “What branch?”
“Marines”
You nodded and saluted with two fingers “Thank you” Marc chuckled then nodded. Nothing more after, you both had made it safely to your home. Marc stood and leaned on the frame as he had seemed to spark a conversation about the trip to Egypt that led to elsewhere. It was early in the morning when you had parted ways “Bye Marc, see you sometime!” you waved. He had waved back before he’d turn to continue his walk.
Days of texting bit by bit with Marc, giving you dry responses when you had tried to spice the conversation. Steven had always preferred to call more than texting, always enjoying the sound of your voice.
Since you walked back with Marc, have you had a visitor lately or a small crush…?