fic: Advent Calendar | The Social Network
Advent Calendar
The Social Network
Mark/Eduardo
G
2400 words
There's a card for every occasion.
Notes
Belated holiday ficlet, which uses all the holidays because I'm too lazy to pick one and stick with it. Also, this story reads like I have a Hallmark fetish. I don't, I swear.
It's been four years since Eduardo last heard from Mark when he receives the Christmas card. It's a generic card, with a picture of Santa Claus on the front and Happy Ho-Ho-Holidays! on the inside. Mark didn't even sign it. The only reason Eduardo knows it's from him is because it was sent in a Facebook business envelope, like Mark was too lazy to buy postage and use the envelope that comes with these types of cards, and it has Mark Zuckerberg scribbled in the return address field. He probably had an assistant send it.
Eduardo shakes his head, drops it in the trash and heads to work.
If that was supposed to be some sort of gesture, Mark will have to try harder.
---
He gets another card for Valentine's Day. It's not sappy or romantic, thank god. It just has a picture of a box of chocolates on the front with one missing. Inside it says Here's a piece of chocolate to express my regard for you with another picture of chocolate, this time the one missing from the front.
Eduardo snorts quietly but throws that one away too.
---
The next one is for St. Patrick's Day. It has an incredibly politically incorrect leprechaun on the front of the card, very obviously drunk, and the inside says Have a Lucky Fuckin' St Patty's Day.
Eduardo hesitates for a minute but he's really got to get to dinner. By the time he remembers it the next morning, his cleaning service has already taken it out with the trash.
---
The card after that comes for Easter. Eduardo picks it up and hides it in his briefcase before he can think about it.
He doesn't really look at it until a week later when there's no reason to keep it any longer. There's still no signature, or any sign at all, really, that it is from Mark.
Eduardo tucks the card into a new envelope and mails it back to California with the note, Why are you sending me these?
---
In May the card is for Memorial Day. It just has a solemn pencil-sketched print of an American Flag on the front and a lazy scribble of M Zuckerberg on the inside. There's no response to his question.
Eduardo is so annoyed that he throws it away out of spite.
A few days later he's still considering it, however. Going by the generic cards and the lack of response to his question, it seems likely he's gotten added to the company's official correspondence list. It would be understandable, since he's an investor, but he's not quite sure that's it, since he's not getting any form of more official notices; nothing but the cards.
---
When he gets the card in June for Father's Day, he's certain it has to be a mailing list. Mark would know he's not a father, and that there'd be no point in sending him this card.
Relieved to have figured out what is going on, Eduardo has his assistant get him the contact number for Facebook's PR offices. He calls them himself that morning.
It takes him twenty minutes to convince the PA who answers his call that yes, he is important enough to warrant being put through to her boss and no, he will not accept a call back the next work day. She seems incapable of understanding that her "first thing in the morning" call would be midnight or later for him.
Finally he gets through to someone named Maria Hopper. "Hello?" she asks. "Is this Mr. Saverin?"
"Yes, hello," Eduardo replies, "I'm sorry to call so close to the end of the day, but I have a quick question for you."
"How can I help you?" she answers, sounding annoyed.
"I've been getting cards from your office and I'd like to know who to contact to request my exclusion from the recipient list."
"Cards?" Ms. Hopper says. "What kind of cards?"
"Holiday cards," Eduardo says. "Like greeting cards."
"Mr. Saverin, I'm not sure what you're talking about," Ms. Hopper says.
"I've been receiving them from you monthly all year," Eduardo says. "Would you please check whether I'm on your mailing list?"
"Sir," Ms. Hopper says, "I already have. You're not on our list, which, regardless, is exclusively virtual. We don't send out cards."
Eduardo pauses.
"Are you sure they're from us, sir?" Ms. Hopper asks.
"Yes, thank you," Eduardo says. "I appreciate your time. I apologize for keeping you late after work."
"It was our pleasure," Ms. Hopper says, and hangs up on him.
Eduardo takes the Father's Day card, puts it back in its envelope, and scribbles Return to Sender on the front.
---
By now he knows to expect the Independence Day card. It arrives on his fourth of July, not California's, which could be coincidence but, assuming these really are from Mark, probably isn't.
The card is garish, covered with glittering fireworks drawings, and it plays "God Bless America" when opened. The inside still only has Mark's ugly signature. Eduardo writes, What the fuck? below it and sends the card back.
---
August doesn't bring a card. Eduardo actually feels a little disappointed, which is ridiculous both because there are no major holidays in August - Mark has been ignoring Jewish traditions, Ramadan obviously wasn't going to garner a card - and because Eduardo has no reason to be anticipating impersonal Hallmarks from Mark.
Still, on the second day of September he has his assistant dig up Mark's home address. he finds a belated birthday card and signs his name E. Saverin. He also attaches a post-it note that says, Seriously, Mark, care to explain?
---
September brings Labor Day and a plain blue and white card. Eduardo almost misses it as he goes through his mail, dropping it in the center of the table, but the Facebook envelope finally registers and he thumbs the card open.
Inside on the left there's a teddy bear waving a pinwheel. On the right Mark has scribbled,
I've been told people sends cards on holidays to catch up. It's one of those things. I thought you knew that.
Eduardo puts the card in his dresser drawer and doesn't reply.
---
Over a month later Eduardo gets a card for Columbus Day. He hadn't been aware they made cards for Columbus Day, though maybe he shouldn't be surprised. The phrase "a card for every occasion" didn't come from nowhere.
He expects another blank card, and is surprised to see, Are you back to ignoring me? in black ink inside.
Eduardo had bought generic stationery card a couple weeks back on a whim, so for the first time he sends a proper response.
I don't think it's fair to say I was ignoring you when I wasn't aware you were involved at all. I thought the cards were an accident at first, a company thing. You can't blame me - they were impersonal, inaccurate, and it took you six months just to start signing them.
---
He's impatient for Halloween to come around, waiting for another card from Mark. It comes two days early, as if Mark was as impatient to send it as Eduardo has been to receive it.
The envelope is lumpy, and a lollipop falls out as soon as Eduardo tears it open. The card has a grinning pumpkin and candy corn on the front, but Eduardo barely glances at it as he looks to see what Mark has written.
I was told you called the PR office to ask about the cards. Chris told me. He said you were requesting they stop. I'll assume by your response to me that you've since changed your mind.
P.S. The lollipop is from my assistant, Mrs. Downs, who said I should include candy in keeping with the theme and to "sweeten you up." I neglected to include any, so whatever candy you did get is from her, inserted before she mailed it.
Eduardo knows Mark was fishing, but he can't help his reply.
I will ask you to stop if I decide I've had enough. Why did you decide to catch up in the first place?
P.S. Tell Mrs. Downs I appreciated the sucker.
---
The next card doesn't arrive until Thanksgiving, and the wait is as interminable as expected. He doesn't understand why, now Mark knows Eduardo is willing to talk, he keeps sending the cards. They're worse than anything else would be for Eduardo, because there's so little communication but such physical proof, and it sits on his dresser or table and reminds him, makes him remember and think and overanalyze everything Mark could mean.
Thanksgiving has a beautiful card, heavy linen and decorated with an embossed gold turkey, but Eduardo ignores it entirely to unfold the piece of paper folded up inside it, blank computer paper which was evidently at hand.
Will you ask me to stop? I though you would just quit reading. It is your choice, after all. I have no way of knowing you even get these unless you respond.
P.S. Was the "sucker" supposed to be a play on words? I don't like the implication.
---
I would be polite enough to tell you. There are expectations around these cards now, aren't there? There are for me. You didn't know I was opening them the first half of the year? Why did you keep sending them?
P.S. No pun intended, no. If you'd like to infer one you're welcome to.
The next letter, though Eduardo has prepared himself to wait until Christmas Eve at least, comes the first of December.
There are probably expectations, yes. Mrs. Downs, at least, looks for your responses obsessively. I kept sending them because I was going to keep going until you became so annoyed you had to respond, even if you were only trying to get me to stop. This year was all major holidays. Next year I was going to research the lesser ones, and send a card a week. I don't have to pick the cards out, there are interns who are always happy to get out of real work to go run errands.
P.S. Check your email.
His email contains a message from Mark. He rushes to open it, and it turns out to be an e-card, in keeping with the theme. The body of the email says simply, If you agree, this email has a program that will act like virtual cards. One message a day for each of us.
Eduardo opens the program. It presents him with a plain, blank text field. He types, Okay, now what?
The response, disappointingly, doesn't come until much later that day. However, Mark is much more communicative over email than he is through letter, and after his wry assessment of how Eduardo has wasted his one message on a short, self-explanatory question he goes on to explain that the inspiration for the cards actually came from Mrs. Downs, who still sent holiday letters to every member of her family, despite living within approximately a block of all of them. She also uses Facebook religiously.
Eduardo's honestly a little surprised by the email - Mark doesn't shy away from anything, but he also doesn't accidentally say anything that could be considered rude. If it weren't for a few blatant insults Eduardo would've suspected he had a PR person look it over for him; even with the insults, Eduardo isn't ruling the possibility out.
He has to wait until the next day to respond, so now their format has switched: instead of Eduardo responding to Mark's cards, Mark replies to Eduardo's letters. It's nice - there's little pressure, because they can only say so much in one email and one email only per day. Mark tells Eduardo about Facebook, and Eduardo tells Mark about Singapore, and eventually it's not awkward to pretend they aren't ignoring the reason they have to play catch up.
The first Saturday after Eduardo got the program, he gets a package in the mail. It turns out to be fruit and chocolate, the standard business Christmas basket. The note included with it says One gift a week until Christmas. He appends a mention of it to the end of message he was about to send Mark and says thank you.
---
By the time Christmas Eve rolls around, Eduardo has the remnants of his fruit basket, a Christmas teddy bear, and a snow globe that plucks out Silent Night. He also has messages so long they take hours to write and is so involved in the details of Mark's life he can guess what mood Mark is in before he gets Mark's daily message and could probably recognize and handle some of the worst employees - the ones Mark hates and complains about the most - sight unseen.
Eduardo had ended his last message with a taunt about family obligations, since Mark had claimed he was spending Christmas alone. He's not working, and there's nothing for him to do - he's ignoring his family obligations, too, after all - and the absence of Mark's response is glaringly obvious.
He stumbles out of bed early next morning at the knock on his door, and it's a testament to how re-accustomed he's become to Mark that Eduardo's first thought on seeing him upon the figurative doorstep is to wonder why he hadn't expected this.
"So you're the final gift?" Eduardo asks, and thinks his voice is impressively steady considering. "That's a little arrogant."
Mark shrugs. "It's like an advent calendar. You always get something you don't like."
"Nothing I dislike," Eduardo says. "Not yet."
Mark shifts on his feet and smiles and says, "Sorry I've been out of touch the last day."
"You were on the plane," Eduardo says. "To come to Singapore on Christmas."
"It's a grand gesture," Mark says. "To follow up the cards."
"We're Jewish, Mark," Eduardo says. "Why Christmas?"
"I wanted to start with major holidays," Mark says. "I just wanted to pique your curiosity. And I needed an excuse to use the program at the end, and twenty five days of Christmas works better than eight days of Hanukkah."
"You could've just called me sometime after October and seen me then," Eduardo says. "I was pretty impatient to talk to you by that point."
"I was, too," Mark admits. "But I'd already written the program for Christmas."
"You didn't want to ruin your own plan," Eduardo says and rolls his eyes.
Mark says, defensive, "It took a lot of dedication."
"I know," Eduardo says. "Now come in, or it'll be New Year's by the time we get you out of the hall."
End.
Entry has been crossposted to abriata @ DW here. Comments enabled at either entry.
The Social Network
Mark/Eduardo
G
2400 words
There's a card for every occasion.
Notes
Belated holiday ficlet, which uses all the holidays because I'm too lazy to pick one and stick with it. Also, this story reads like I have a Hallmark fetish. I don't, I swear.
It's been four years since Eduardo last heard from Mark when he receives the Christmas card. It's a generic card, with a picture of Santa Claus on the front and Happy Ho-Ho-Holidays! on the inside. Mark didn't even sign it. The only reason Eduardo knows it's from him is because it was sent in a Facebook business envelope, like Mark was too lazy to buy postage and use the envelope that comes with these types of cards, and it has Mark Zuckerberg scribbled in the return address field. He probably had an assistant send it.
Eduardo shakes his head, drops it in the trash and heads to work.
If that was supposed to be some sort of gesture, Mark will have to try harder.
---
He gets another card for Valentine's Day. It's not sappy or romantic, thank god. It just has a picture of a box of chocolates on the front with one missing. Inside it says Here's a piece of chocolate to express my regard for you with another picture of chocolate, this time the one missing from the front.
Eduardo snorts quietly but throws that one away too.
---
The next one is for St. Patrick's Day. It has an incredibly politically incorrect leprechaun on the front of the card, very obviously drunk, and the inside says Have a Lucky Fuckin' St Patty's Day.
Eduardo hesitates for a minute but he's really got to get to dinner. By the time he remembers it the next morning, his cleaning service has already taken it out with the trash.
---
The card after that comes for Easter. Eduardo picks it up and hides it in his briefcase before he can think about it.
He doesn't really look at it until a week later when there's no reason to keep it any longer. There's still no signature, or any sign at all, really, that it is from Mark.
Eduardo tucks the card into a new envelope and mails it back to California with the note, Why are you sending me these?
---
In May the card is for Memorial Day. It just has a solemn pencil-sketched print of an American Flag on the front and a lazy scribble of M Zuckerberg on the inside. There's no response to his question.
Eduardo is so annoyed that he throws it away out of spite.
A few days later he's still considering it, however. Going by the generic cards and the lack of response to his question, it seems likely he's gotten added to the company's official correspondence list. It would be understandable, since he's an investor, but he's not quite sure that's it, since he's not getting any form of more official notices; nothing but the cards.
---
When he gets the card in June for Father's Day, he's certain it has to be a mailing list. Mark would know he's not a father, and that there'd be no point in sending him this card.
Relieved to have figured out what is going on, Eduardo has his assistant get him the contact number for Facebook's PR offices. He calls them himself that morning.
It takes him twenty minutes to convince the PA who answers his call that yes, he is important enough to warrant being put through to her boss and no, he will not accept a call back the next work day. She seems incapable of understanding that her "first thing in the morning" call would be midnight or later for him.
Finally he gets through to someone named Maria Hopper. "Hello?" she asks. "Is this Mr. Saverin?"
"Yes, hello," Eduardo replies, "I'm sorry to call so close to the end of the day, but I have a quick question for you."
"How can I help you?" she answers, sounding annoyed.
"I've been getting cards from your office and I'd like to know who to contact to request my exclusion from the recipient list."
"Cards?" Ms. Hopper says. "What kind of cards?"
"Holiday cards," Eduardo says. "Like greeting cards."
"Mr. Saverin, I'm not sure what you're talking about," Ms. Hopper says.
"I've been receiving them from you monthly all year," Eduardo says. "Would you please check whether I'm on your mailing list?"
"Sir," Ms. Hopper says, "I already have. You're not on our list, which, regardless, is exclusively virtual. We don't send out cards."
Eduardo pauses.
"Are you sure they're from us, sir?" Ms. Hopper asks.
"Yes, thank you," Eduardo says. "I appreciate your time. I apologize for keeping you late after work."
"It was our pleasure," Ms. Hopper says, and hangs up on him.
Eduardo takes the Father's Day card, puts it back in its envelope, and scribbles Return to Sender on the front.
---
By now he knows to expect the Independence Day card. It arrives on his fourth of July, not California's, which could be coincidence but, assuming these really are from Mark, probably isn't.
The card is garish, covered with glittering fireworks drawings, and it plays "God Bless America" when opened. The inside still only has Mark's ugly signature. Eduardo writes, What the fuck? below it and sends the card back.
---
August doesn't bring a card. Eduardo actually feels a little disappointed, which is ridiculous both because there are no major holidays in August - Mark has been ignoring Jewish traditions, Ramadan obviously wasn't going to garner a card - and because Eduardo has no reason to be anticipating impersonal Hallmarks from Mark.
Still, on the second day of September he has his assistant dig up Mark's home address. he finds a belated birthday card and signs his name E. Saverin. He also attaches a post-it note that says, Seriously, Mark, care to explain?
---
September brings Labor Day and a plain blue and white card. Eduardo almost misses it as he goes through his mail, dropping it in the center of the table, but the Facebook envelope finally registers and he thumbs the card open.
Inside on the left there's a teddy bear waving a pinwheel. On the right Mark has scribbled,
I've been told people sends cards on holidays to catch up. It's one of those things. I thought you knew that.
Eduardo puts the card in his dresser drawer and doesn't reply.
---
Over a month later Eduardo gets a card for Columbus Day. He hadn't been aware they made cards for Columbus Day, though maybe he shouldn't be surprised. The phrase "a card for every occasion" didn't come from nowhere.
He expects another blank card, and is surprised to see, Are you back to ignoring me? in black ink inside.
Eduardo had bought generic stationery card a couple weeks back on a whim, so for the first time he sends a proper response.
I don't think it's fair to say I was ignoring you when I wasn't aware you were involved at all. I thought the cards were an accident at first, a company thing. You can't blame me - they were impersonal, inaccurate, and it took you six months just to start signing them.
---
He's impatient for Halloween to come around, waiting for another card from Mark. It comes two days early, as if Mark was as impatient to send it as Eduardo has been to receive it.
The envelope is lumpy, and a lollipop falls out as soon as Eduardo tears it open. The card has a grinning pumpkin and candy corn on the front, but Eduardo barely glances at it as he looks to see what Mark has written.
I was told you called the PR office to ask about the cards. Chris told me. He said you were requesting they stop. I'll assume by your response to me that you've since changed your mind.
P.S. The lollipop is from my assistant, Mrs. Downs, who said I should include candy in keeping with the theme and to "sweeten you up." I neglected to include any, so whatever candy you did get is from her, inserted before she mailed it.
Eduardo knows Mark was fishing, but he can't help his reply.
I will ask you to stop if I decide I've had enough. Why did you decide to catch up in the first place?
P.S. Tell Mrs. Downs I appreciated the sucker.
---
The next card doesn't arrive until Thanksgiving, and the wait is as interminable as expected. He doesn't understand why, now Mark knows Eduardo is willing to talk, he keeps sending the cards. They're worse than anything else would be for Eduardo, because there's so little communication but such physical proof, and it sits on his dresser or table and reminds him, makes him remember and think and overanalyze everything Mark could mean.
Thanksgiving has a beautiful card, heavy linen and decorated with an embossed gold turkey, but Eduardo ignores it entirely to unfold the piece of paper folded up inside it, blank computer paper which was evidently at hand.
Will you ask me to stop? I though you would just quit reading. It is your choice, after all. I have no way of knowing you even get these unless you respond.
P.S. Was the "sucker" supposed to be a play on words? I don't like the implication.
---
I would be polite enough to tell you. There are expectations around these cards now, aren't there? There are for me. You didn't know I was opening them the first half of the year? Why did you keep sending them?
P.S. No pun intended, no. If you'd like to infer one you're welcome to.
The next letter, though Eduardo has prepared himself to wait until Christmas Eve at least, comes the first of December.
There are probably expectations, yes. Mrs. Downs, at least, looks for your responses obsessively. I kept sending them because I was going to keep going until you became so annoyed you had to respond, even if you were only trying to get me to stop. This year was all major holidays. Next year I was going to research the lesser ones, and send a card a week. I don't have to pick the cards out, there are interns who are always happy to get out of real work to go run errands.
P.S. Check your email.
His email contains a message from Mark. He rushes to open it, and it turns out to be an e-card, in keeping with the theme. The body of the email says simply, If you agree, this email has a program that will act like virtual cards. One message a day for each of us.
Eduardo opens the program. It presents him with a plain, blank text field. He types, Okay, now what?
The response, disappointingly, doesn't come until much later that day. However, Mark is much more communicative over email than he is through letter, and after his wry assessment of how Eduardo has wasted his one message on a short, self-explanatory question he goes on to explain that the inspiration for the cards actually came from Mrs. Downs, who still sent holiday letters to every member of her family, despite living within approximately a block of all of them. She also uses Facebook religiously.
Eduardo's honestly a little surprised by the email - Mark doesn't shy away from anything, but he also doesn't accidentally say anything that could be considered rude. If it weren't for a few blatant insults Eduardo would've suspected he had a PR person look it over for him; even with the insults, Eduardo isn't ruling the possibility out.
He has to wait until the next day to respond, so now their format has switched: instead of Eduardo responding to Mark's cards, Mark replies to Eduardo's letters. It's nice - there's little pressure, because they can only say so much in one email and one email only per day. Mark tells Eduardo about Facebook, and Eduardo tells Mark about Singapore, and eventually it's not awkward to pretend they aren't ignoring the reason they have to play catch up.
The first Saturday after Eduardo got the program, he gets a package in the mail. It turns out to be fruit and chocolate, the standard business Christmas basket. The note included with it says One gift a week until Christmas. He appends a mention of it to the end of message he was about to send Mark and says thank you.
---
By the time Christmas Eve rolls around, Eduardo has the remnants of his fruit basket, a Christmas teddy bear, and a snow globe that plucks out Silent Night. He also has messages so long they take hours to write and is so involved in the details of Mark's life he can guess what mood Mark is in before he gets Mark's daily message and could probably recognize and handle some of the worst employees - the ones Mark hates and complains about the most - sight unseen.
Eduardo had ended his last message with a taunt about family obligations, since Mark had claimed he was spending Christmas alone. He's not working, and there's nothing for him to do - he's ignoring his family obligations, too, after all - and the absence of Mark's response is glaringly obvious.
He stumbles out of bed early next morning at the knock on his door, and it's a testament to how re-accustomed he's become to Mark that Eduardo's first thought on seeing him upon the figurative doorstep is to wonder why he hadn't expected this.
"So you're the final gift?" Eduardo asks, and thinks his voice is impressively steady considering. "That's a little arrogant."
Mark shrugs. "It's like an advent calendar. You always get something you don't like."
"Nothing I dislike," Eduardo says. "Not yet."
Mark shifts on his feet and smiles and says, "Sorry I've been out of touch the last day."
"You were on the plane," Eduardo says. "To come to Singapore on Christmas."
"It's a grand gesture," Mark says. "To follow up the cards."
"We're Jewish, Mark," Eduardo says. "Why Christmas?"
"I wanted to start with major holidays," Mark says. "I just wanted to pique your curiosity. And I needed an excuse to use the program at the end, and twenty five days of Christmas works better than eight days of Hanukkah."
"You could've just called me sometime after October and seen me then," Eduardo says. "I was pretty impatient to talk to you by that point."
"I was, too," Mark admits. "But I'd already written the program for Christmas."
"You didn't want to ruin your own plan," Eduardo says and rolls his eyes.
Mark says, defensive, "It took a lot of dedication."
"I know," Eduardo says. "Now come in, or it'll be New Year's by the time we get you out of the hall."
End.
Entry has been crossposted to abriata @ DW here. Comments enabled at either entry.