To be honest, it didn't make any sense why he'd agreed to meet up with a strange man at his own house. That sounded like the makings of a horror story, especially with the way that he had declared his love for him already. Maybe it was some sort of feeling he had deep down in his chest that told him that it was the right thing to do, or maybe he was just an idiot waiting to get killed somehow. Either way it was too late to change his mind, he was already following this guy who's name was apparently Jean inside his house. And mind you, this was a very, very nice house. There were several mansions that lined the countryside outside of town here, most of which were used as summerhomes and left abandoned for half the year. This one on the otherhand, was a different story it seemed. Marco himself had never been inside any of these buildings, let alone any place remotely as fancy, so he felt himself awestruck to the point that he missed Jean talking to him. "-but it's hard, you know?" Woah, what on Earth was Jean saying? Marco blinked at him several times, trying to figure out if he was taking that the wrong way and Jean responded, "Well, I guess I can't blame you for not believing me. Want proof?" "Jean, I told you already, I don't feel that way towards you." There was a long pause where Jean tried to comprehend what Marco was thinking, then sighed. "I didn't say...I...Just let me start over." He started leading him towards a living room area while he explained, "I know this sounds crazy, but I already know you and you already know me. The thing is though, you keep dying, and then coming back to life but you can't remember it. " Sitting down in one of the plush chairs, he offered Marco to sit next to him, but he politely declined and remained standing instead. Well then. "I always try to go about it without telling you, but it's hard." Marco stared at him fixidly, then slowly said, "Jean, I think I should go, I-" "No, wait, I know it sounds weird and all, but I promise I'm telling the truth." Jean stood up once again, and quickly moved over to try and get him to stop, only to have Marco put his hands up and back away. He really should have seen this coming, as understanding as Marco was, he was still human and being upfront in the way he had so far was weird; especially considering Marco didn't have a clue who he was. Even still, it was probably more painful to see him push him away than any of the hundreds of times he'd seen him die. "And I promise you that I'm not interested in this, Jean. I...I don't really know what's the matter; maybe you've seen Cloud Atlas one too many times, but I don't think I can help you." He walked back towards the front door once again, deciding to himself that this would be the last time that he'd do something silly like this. Jean watched him go for a moment, then followed behind him hurriedly once more. As they traveled out the front door towards the gravel driveway, Jean continued pleaing for a second chance. "I cannot even describe how serious I'm being, Marco! And I haven't even seen Cloud Atlas, I'm more of a Snow White and the Huntsman kind of guy anyways." "That movie is terrible, Jean!" Marco jogged down the long staircase in front of the house with Jean still hot on his trail. "Kirsten Stewart can't act, she ruined the whole thing!" How this argument gotten so derailed to get from talking about reincarnation to a celebrity that has been trashed talked to the point that it's mind numbingly stupid to even bring up anymore is a mystery. Marco got as far the actual driveway before he turned around and looked back at Jean, who was standing a few feet away at the bottom of the stairs looking upset. "Kirsten Stewart is a national treasure, Marco. She writes poetry and she doens't care what people think of her." Suddenly he felt more passionate about this debate than anything else before. This was what was truly important. Shaking his head, Marco said, "Don't be one of those people, Jean. You're only making it harder on yourself." Before Jean got a chance to argue some more about an irrelevant topic, he saw a certain overpriced vehicle speeding up the driveway like a cheetah hunting it's prey down, and the prey in question was Marco. "Oh shit, move!" Before he let Marco react, he ran up and shoved him as hard as he could, sending him flying into some shrubs just seconds before his parents BMW splattered him. As soon as the car passed, Jean hurried over to check to see if he was alright, and found that he was okay aside from some scratches. Nothing compared to what he narrowly avoided. "Jean...you saved me..." the disorientated freckled man stared up at him while he helped him back up. "See, I told you, but you didn't want to listen." Jean turned to check and see if his parents had come dashing their way towards them, and saw they hadn't made it out of the car just yet. "Look, we'll need to meet up again. Not here though, these assholes are so tight on watching me that I'm convinced they've got cameras or something keeping an eye on me." Marco's eyes followed in the same direction that Jean's had gone, opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Jean. "Not now, just go, before God-knows-what happens. I'll come by your work tomorrow, hows that? I think it'll be safer there. Go, go!" And with that, Marco reluctantly turned and left with the sounds of some angry parents and Jean arguing in the distance behind him. What a strange, strange day, along with a strange, strange man.
