Title: Please Rain On My Parade
Fandom: The Social Network
Rating: G
Summary: Eduardo was a cloud who stalked Mark.
Disclaimer: TSN and its characters are not mine.
(Hey, Wardo, here I am.)
“It’s raining”.
Mark wasn’t surprised to wake up this morning with rain pouring on his head. He simply checked that yes, it was 6:30 AM, yes, it was a Monday, and yes, he smelled like a dead animal. So, in no particular order, he needed to 1) shower, 2) go to work, and 3) eat something.
However, considering his current situation-Mark lifted his head to peer at the gray cloud, quickly flinched away when the water stung his eyes-he might be able to cross one thing off the list. (Technically, this did count as a shower, right?)
So Mark did everything that a sensible person in his situation might do: He grabbed a rain poncho that he got from the secret trip to Brazil, put it on, attempted to get dressed in dry clothes under the poncho, and went to work. His housekeeper will not be happy with the Amazon River that he left from his bedroom to the front door, but hey, she had been complaining that Mark rarely lived in his house, which he took to be a request for more work to do.
The cloud was huge, so Mark had to wait for him every time he passed a door way. It was quite inconvenient.
“You’re getting fat,” he told the cloud, crossing his arm in disapproval as he tried to go through his front door.
The cloud turned into a darker gray, crackling with thunder, so Mark assumed that he was angry. Apparently clouds couldn’t handle the truth very well.
In response, the cloud barfed out a fucking mini hurricane above his head right as he locked his front door. Mark clutched tightly at his poncho, trying not to trip over his feet as he walked against the wind. By the time he reached his car and dropped his keys about thirteen times, Mark finally managed to get in the damn car.
The cloud couldn’t get through the car door. Mark almost wanted to laugh, but since the cloud actually looked sad, Mark shut his mouth. Mark didn’t know what to say. The hurricane stopped, but Mark still felt kind of bad.
What was he supposed to do when he hurt a cloud's feeling? And Mark thought dealing with people was difficult enough.
So he did what he does best: Say nothing and move on.
By the time they reached the Facebook HQ, Mark felt even worse, and the cloud’s sulking was not helping. He refused to follow Mark inside.
“On come on,” Mark muttered to himself when the cloud stubbornly hovered above his car, letting Mark walked away all by himself. Mark turned back, “You’re still upset?”
The cloud sniffled.
"Well, it's true," Mark shrugged. "You're--" and before he could finish, the two ends of the cloud began to sag downward like drooping shoulders, and now, not only did Mark felt guilty for being an asshole, he felt insane as well.
Great. This was just his day.
Mark looked away awkwardly. “You’re….you’re not fat.” He dug his hands deeper into his hoodie, wanting to say something like I’m sorryor I was wrong, but couldn’t. He didn’t know what else to do but to stand there and wait for an inanimate object like a crazy person. (Crazy is good, Mark convinced himself. Crazy allowed him to invent Facebook.)
After a long and excruciating period of time, the cloud finally relented and floated to Mark, hovering above Mark’s head like that was where he belonged.
Mark bit the inside of his cheeks to prevent something as horrifying as a smile, or, god forbid, a grin. He would very much like to preserve what little remained of his dignity (and his sanity).
The cloud continued to happily rain with spite above his head. Mark sighed in relief. Everything was back as it should be.
When they went the front door of HQ, and Mark had to wait for the cloud to pass through the door again, he wondered if it would be insensitive to ask the cloud to go on a diet.