11 Days (septiplier) part 1

I sit and count the number of drunk men who are probably going to cheat on their wives tonight. I can tell a married man from an unmarried man instantly; it's not just the wedding ring that gives it away but their actions.

Unmarried men just find what they're doing as fun, married men find what they're doing as rebellious. The look in their eyes gives it all away. In total, I count probably nine married men, about to cheat. It's disgusting. I'm never getting married.

"'Nother drink, sir?" Asks the bartender with a dopey, half drunk grin. I smile politely back and ask for a lemonade. I have to be careful with alcohol while in missions, if I forget what I'm doing I can mess up so badly that it can get me killed. "Sure thing."

A few minutes later, he slides the glass across to me and when I try and pass him the money, shakes his head. "S'alright sir, on the 'ouse if you get what I mean. Yer've bought so many think yer owed one now."

I nodded my thanks and he moved onto the next person. Sipping my lemonade, I slide my eyes over everyone in sight but still have no luck. It's 10:39pm, chances are he won't show now, this late. I only have to stay another 20 minutes and then I can finally do and get some sleep, only to try again tomorrow. Yay. Note the enthusiasm.

I hate when I only have one lead on a mission, it's so boring and you never know whether it's just a dead end or actually something, so you're stuck trying to follow it up until you, well, find something.

See, everyone has this idea that being a spy is really cool, fast paced, guns and high speed chases and saving the person you hooked up with the night before and fell in love with. For that, I blame the movies. Being a spy is boring, slow and although you get the guns, you rarely use them.

Same with the high speed chases, you might get one every now and then, but the people either pull over eventually or end up in a car crash. No shooting guns out of the window or tearing around country lanes or swerving through traffic. In real life, being a spy sucks dick.

"Hey there." A voice breaks me out of thought and I look up to see a very good looking guy. Irish accent. He's smirking confidently and carries the smell of alcohol; obviously drunk. He has bright blue eyes and hair so shockingly green it nearly glows, the style suggesting copied from a celebrity of some sort. He wears black ripped skinny jeans, red Converse and a red band t-shirt. I don't recognise the logo but I guess it's a band.

Maybe not a copycat then, the way he dresses and carries himself suggests he's in a band, or at least famous in some way shape or form. I can't see any evidence he plays guitar or bass (he doesn't have calloused fingers) so my best guess would be drums, since he has decent biceps. Not as big as mine (I don't mean that to sound cocky, just factual (although let's face it, my biceps are fucking awesome)) but still well built up.

This is what I'm trained to notice. In this case, it's completely unnecessary because I know all of this and more just by looking at him. His name is Sean McLoughlin, more commonly known as jacksepticeye. He's a YouTuber but used to be in a band in which he played drums and he's pretty goddamn famous.

I wouldn't say I was a particular fan of his-not because I don't like him, but because I've never really watched him. I only know of him because he's in videos with other YouTubers who I do watch and I did a little research one time.

All of this runs through my head in a split second.

"Hey," I reply, feeling myself blushing slightly.

What the hell Mark, get your shit together! You're on a mission, you can't be liking guys who A, probably aren't gay (I mean, he's had girlfriends so I doubt he's gay) and B, are famous!

Love is a dangerous thing as a spy, that's the only thing the movies ever get right. And with Sean, someone so famous...I'm so screwed. Sean sits in the vacant seat next to me, raising his eyebrows at my drink. "Lemonade," I tell him and he looks at me in a way that makes me shiver slightly, and not from the cold.

Sean leans towards me and in a deep voice says. "You mean to tell me you're in a club, drinking lemonade and not dancing? Now where's the point in that?" His eyebrows lift with the sides of his mouth, smirking.

I'm supposed to give him my cover story, but I can't seem to remember what it is. Instead I reply with a very unintelligent sounding 'uhhhh'. Sean laughs.

"So, since we're in a club, I think you at least ought to dance. With me. Right now."

What the fuck?! Is he serious?! But he's famous and gorgeous and...not gay?! And I'm just...me! Black haired boring Korean who's secretly a spy. Actually, that's a pretty cool title...shut up Mark, nobody wants to listen to your brain.

Before I can think properly, I find myself nodding. Sean grabs my hand and pulls me onto the floor where everybody else is dancing. It doesn't take me long to realise that although he looks like he should be a good dancer, jacksepticeye cannot dance to save his life. At least when he's drunk he can't.

After a few minutes of clumsy, awkward dancing I decide to ask why he's here.

"Because I want to dance with you, duh." He replies, giving the expression which reads 'you're such an idiot but it's okay'. I shake my head.

"No, I mean here as in at this club." Sean trips over my feet and I hold him yo steady. "Careful," I tease making him flush red.

Instead of allowing the dangerous dancing to continue, I pull Sean away from the dance floor to an empty table. "Sorry, I kinda suck at dancing." He laughs.

I nod with a grin. "Yeah, you kinda do."

He grins back and I remind him of my question, focusing on his eyes as he talks. "I was meant to be meeting someone, actually, I think I met someone, wait, did I? I don't know. Maybe? Who cares, I'm here now and that's all I know now." He grins lopsidedly making me laugh. What a drunken adorable mess.

I find myself staring at Sean for a few minutes. His flawless lips, chiselled jawline, his not-quite-a-beard-but-kind-of-a-beard that actually suits him really well, his bright green messy hair and finally his beautiful baby blue eyes...which are staring right back at me, full of curiosity.