The first time he shared his table was a Thursday.

The little coffee shop had been promoting a new 'blonde' brand, and was ridiculously crowded. Mark had already secured his usual table, and between his iPod, book, and hunched over body language, he had managed to ward off any unwanted company. That was, until some idiot in a turtleneck sweater (a sweater! It was barely below 60 degrees outside!) walked over and slammed into the seat across from him. Mark could only stare at the intruder in disbelief as he settled his mocha cappuccino on the table. The intruder flashed him a bright smile (and if his eyes didn't crinkle up cutely at the corners), turned to look out the window... and proceeded to completely ignore him.

Mark, utterly flabbergasted at his odd behavior, stared at the newcomer. He merely stared out the window, looking totally zoned out. He looked sort of... peaceful, actually. If Mark really focused he could see dark bags under his eyes, and he noticed his hands twitched occasionally.

Mark turned his attention back to his book. If this guy just wanted a place to sit and think for awhile, and wasn't gonna bother him, he could share his table for the day.

~ ~ ~ ~

He shared his table again on a Sunday, and his name was Jackson.

Mark was a little more prepared for his arrival. He had looked up when the little bell over the door rung, and there he was. He ordered the same mocha drink, then walked right over to his table. Just like last time he sat down with a smile, then turned out the window. The bags under his eyes were still there, as was the finger twitching.

Mark almost asked him what was wrong, but he stopped himself. That level of interaction with a complete stranger seemed too much, and after all, it was really none of his business. He did, however, feel brave enough glance at the label on his cup. To his surprise, the name on it was an English one.

Somehow, that little bit of knowledge made him relax more. Mark went back to reading, and never noticed the little glances Jackson kept sending him.

~ ~ ~ ~

Jackson was waiting for him on a Wednesday.

The bags under his eyes were almost gone, and his hands sat perfectly still. He smiled that bright smile of his and offered Mark a cup. When he took a sip his favorite flavor spilled over his senses. Jackson said he noticed Mark always had the same drink, so he guessed it was his preferred choice. He introduced himself and Mark embarrassed himself by blurting out that he already knew his name.

Jackson only laughed and asked for Mark's name, and maybe also his phone number? But only because good company who appreciated the occasional need for quiet was hard to come by, of course.

Mark almost threw his phone across the table.

~ ~ ~ ~

They meet at the coffee shop regularly.

Jackson talks about everything and nothing, but mostly about his music and how well or bad a certain song was going. It turned out if a song is going bad he had trouble sleeping, and he'd stay up late writing lyrics until his hand cramped.

Mark sits and listens and sometimes is convinced to talk about himself, and on one occasion even bribed with a biscotti to sing. Jackson had stared unblinkingly at him during the whole performance, up to the glorious end where Mark, face completely red at the attention, cut the final note off early and hid his face in his jacket. Jackson assured him he sounded great, amazing even, and asked if he wanted to maybe come over sometime and sing some lyrics for him?

Mark, still hidden in his jacket, said yes.

~  ~  ~  ~

AN : hey guys! just thought i'd drop in quickly to greet the whopping 13 of you! i'm so happy that people are interested in this.
        I have a few more chapters ready to go, so i'm planning on steadily uploading them once a week. Consider this chapter a bonus! 
        Feel free to drop AU ideas into the comments section. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to do them justice, but I can try!