"Hey, is it cool if I set your stuff here?" Mark asked, gesturing to the countertop.
"Be my guest." Jack shrugged. Jack had ultimately decided to keep his room in the kitchen. Mark had offered Jack a human sized room, but Jack had politely declined. He didn't need all that space to himself. Besides, the kitchen is where the snacks are kept.
"Alrighty then!" Mark stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "That's the last of it. I'm gonna finish some of the ladder installations. Do you need anything before I go?" Jack shook his head. "Okay, suit yourself. See you in a couple hours."
As soon as Mark was out of the room, Jack took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Neither of the guys had lived with a roommate of a different size before, which made the arrangement a little rocky. Sure, the two had been close friends for years, but the size difference meant nothing when you live across the globe and talk through a computer screen. Being in close quarters put things back into perspective.
Jack looked around at the giant room, seeing all the additions that had to be made just for him. Ladders to get up on tables and counters, pulleys to open cupboards or drawers, and tiny doors cut in the walls so he could cross between rooms without Mark leaving every door open. Jack felt a bit bad about how much he would be rearranging Mark's life. Maybe he shouldn't have moved to L.A.
"No." Jack argued with his own thoughts aloud, looking only slightly crazy. "Mark wouldn't have suggested this if it would really bug him. I'm probably just a lil' homesick."
Jack's room, which had been brought over from Ireland with the move, looked small next to the coffee maker. It was actually a well-crafted wooden cabin- er, more of a box really. Inside, Jack had secured his belongings down for the trip with many knotted strings. It had taken a miracle (and a lot of his Ma's packing) to fit everything inside. Jack opened the front door, peering in. Luckily everything looked unscathed.
Curious as to what all was packed in the pandemonium of moving week, Jack began to pull out boxes and unpack. There was a great deal of knick-knacks from fans, his clothes, toiletries, extra socks (courtesy of Ma), recording equipment, a megaphone, extra extra socks, various other necessities, and in the last box…
"My old drum kit?!" A surprised Jack laughed. "When Ma said she packed everythin', she meant everythin'. Man, I haven't played this thing in years."
Hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia, Jack decided to set it up. He sat in the well-worn seat, letting his hands readjust to the familiar feel of drumsticks at his fingertips. He grinned at the memories, and began to bang the drums with reckless abandon. The emanating racket filled the house, and distantly Mark could be heard giving a yelp of surprise. Jack paused, hearing the rapid thumping of Mark's footsteps.
"Jack?!" Mark came running into the room to see what the commotion was, looking worried. "Jack, are you-" Mark paused, seeing the little irishman give a devilish grin. "Uh, since when do you play the drums?"
"Since college." Jack answered, before striking the instrument once again with relish.
"How does that not hurt your ears?" Mark asked, tensing up at the volume. "Aren't you supposed to have sensitive hearing or something?" Jack paused, giving Mark a slight glare.
"Are you making assumptions about my kind?" Jack said in a menacing tone. When Mark looked apologetic, Jack laughed and lightened his demeanor. "Nah, I'm just teasin' ya. We're born with better hearing, but mine's kinda botched from doing THIS!" The sudden bang on the drum made Mark flinch. "That, and I'm wearing earplugs." He pulled them out for a visual.
"How can you be so loud yet so short?" Mark rolled his eyes exasperatedly.
"'Cause I'm a BOSS!" Jack shouted, hitting the drum with a bang. A slight whimpering could be heard, and the two boys turned to see Chica, Mark's dog, cowering in the doorway wondering what was going on. The poor pup looked so confused.
"Aww, it's okay Chica." Mark went over to comfort the pooch. "Jack's just being a loud Irishman."
"Excuse you!" Jack argued. "Now you're stereotyping the Irish!"
"No I'm not." Mark explained. "You're an Irishman, and you're loud. It's only stereotyping if I said all Irishmen are loud- which they are."
"Oh so now you're stereotyping." Jack said, crossing his arms. In response, Mark pretended to make a high fiving sound like Jack's intro.
"TOP O' THE MORNIN' TO YA, LADDIES!" Mark shouted in a horrible fake irish accent. Unfortunately, he was just a bit too loud for Jack's tiny ears. Jack cringed, covering his ears with his hands and feeling a buzzing in his skull.
"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry Jack." Mark lowered his volume immediately, coming over to check if his friend was alright. He knelt down to be at eye level with the countertop. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Jack shook his head a bit to try and get rid of the feeling. He had been warned about this being one of the dangers of living with a human roommate. Humans often weren't aware of their own volume, which is why Jack had been wearing earplugs in the first place. It was a common way to prevent hearing loss when in contact with humans. "I'm fine."
"You sure?" Mark looked unconvinced.
"I said I'm fine, ya big goof!" Jack laughed, this time being smart enough to put his earplugs back. "But just so we're clear, you're an idiot." Mark smiled.
"I know." Mark had the decency to look a little sheepish. "I'll, uh, go finish the installations then."
"You do that." Jack watched Mark stand up and walk across the room. Once his back was turned, Jack smiled deviously and smacked the drum with all his might. Mark covered his ears, and Jack felt a little satisfaction knowing he wouldn't be the only roommate going deaf.