Something is wrong with my friend.

My name is Mark Fischbach. Though you probably know me by another name.

I live in L.A. Los Angeles, California, with some of my best friends in the whole world. Tyler Scheid, who I've known since middle school, Ethan Nestor, who I met only a year ago- has it really been so short? It feels like a lifetime- only a year ago. My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend Amy Nelson, the love of my life. Kathryn Knutsen, my editor and good friend. And my pupper girl, Chica, my sweet golden retriever.

This wasn't even to mention the friends who weren't here. Bob Muyskens and Wade Barnes, back in Cincinnati, Ohio, my hometown. I missed them dearly, but we were due to tour the country soon. Besides, it wasn't them I was worried about.

Felix Kjellberg was born and raised in Sweden. Witty and sometimes arrogant, he has over 50 million subs on YouTube. Quite a feat for anyone. I'm proud for him.

Sean McLoughlin- or 'Jack' as everyone called him, was a skinny Irish lad with fluorescent green mop of hair. He was younger than myself, I'll admit, but only by two years. He lived in Ireland, Athlone, to be exact. His accent was faded from hiding it from his viewers. He'd been incredibly self-conscious of it when he'd started, purposefully changing his voice so as not to be frowned upon. He thought people wouldn't understand him, and would hate him for it. Over time, he realized this was silly, and actively began to show just how Irish he was. And thankfully, people loved him.

Jack was the one I was worried about. It was one of those rare occasions when he came down to visit us. After being on an airplane for so long- with his fear of heights too- I didn't notice it at first. He stumbled off the plane looking completely exhausted and out of it. He had to lean on me to walk. He murmured something about not sleeping in days, finally getting a few hours of rest in during the flight. I practically carried him to my vehicle, tossing his trunk in the backseat and buckling him into the passenger side.

He fell asleep almost instantly. Worried, I felt his forehead. He felt cold, not cold to the touch, but not as warm as he should be. I couldn't help but glance at him nervously as I reversed the car, starting out onto the highway.

I should have known better.