《Events after The Great Game》vernon

27、第 27 章 Relap

　　Relapse; Mark/Eduardo

　　Mark is the last one to leave the deposition room and he savors a moment of peace and quiet, uninterrupted by lawyers breathing down his neck and Eduardo’s eyes boring into him every few minutes. It’s all over now, much to Mark’s relief, and he wants nothing more than to seek refuge in his office and absorb himself in issues that really matter, like dealing with Facebook’s site traffic and meeting with possible investors. The whole lawsuit procedure nearly bored him to tears and he would have gladly handed over a few million dollars without spending so much wasted time away from his office, away from Facebook, away from progress.

　　He sends a quick text message to his secretary, telling her that he’ll be resuming his regular work schedule, then gets out of his seat and walks past the long wooden table towards the door.

　　Something small and white is gleaming upon the seat Eduardo had vacated just five minutes ago. Mark considers ignoring it and heading straight out the door, but his body doesn’t want to obey him and he automatically picks up a slip of paper that was left behind on the chair. Mark recognizes Eduardo’s handwriting immediately and makes out five words written upon the paper:

　　I loved you,you idiot.

　　Mark stares blankly at the words, trying to figure out what Eduardo could mean by them. It’s most likely a note instead of a spare bit of scribbling, since there’s nothing else written on the paper, and Mark is quite certain that the note is addressed to him since he can’t imagine Eduardo leaving a note to one of the lawyers. He supposes it makes sense for Eduardo to leave him a message in writing, since the lawyers would have jumped all over him if he had dared to say something to Mark that was even remotely off-topic.

　　So Eduardo wrote a note and left it for Mark to find. Fantastic. That doesn’t explain what the words themselves mean, aside from “idiot” perhaps. Considering the fact that Eduardo has called him an asshole and a douchebag in the past, idiot is rather kind.

　　Mark’s eyes flicker to the word “loved.” So Eduardo loved him. Fine. He probably meant it in a purely platonic, brotherly way, and it doesn’t matter anyway because the verb is written in the past tense, not the present tense. It’s all over, just like the lawsuit, and Mark folds up the message so he can stuff it into his pocket.

　　He’s got more important things to worry about than some cryptic note left on a chair by his former best friend, after all. Mark finally exits the deposition room and doesn’t look back.

　　*

　　It’s incredibly easy to resume his usual routine and Mark is so busy filling his head with Facebook matters, there’s no time to think of deposition rooms or lawyers or Eduardo’s eyes gazing at him across the table. The folded-up note that he stuffed into the pocket of his only pair of formal slacks lies forgotten for two whole weeks, until he drags himself away from the computer to do his laundry and finds the note, which is considerably more crumpled than it was two weeks ago.

　　The words stare back at him a second time and he recalls that austere deposition room, full of accusing glares and memories best left forgotten. He and Eduardo barely spoke to each other, but they looked at each other so many times it was like they were having entire conversations in total silence, saying everything they couldn’t say out loud in front of the lawyers. Eduardo’s eyes were so intense sometimes, they practically drilled holes into Mark’s skull, and Mark met him head-on with the same calm, forceful gaze.

　　Sure, he regrets what he did to Eduardo. Sure, he wishes Eduardo hadn’t sued him for six hundred million dollars. It doesn’t mean that he would go back in time and change everything, because he’s come way too far to give it all up, but he has to admit that Eduardo made a better partner than all of the people he’s currently working with.

　　It’s terribly ironic how people can be so commonplace, so ordinary, but then when they’re gone, it’s like somebody just stamped them with a million-dollar value tag.

　　Eduardo’s note stares up at Mark, accusing him just like Eduardo’s burning gaze, and Mark wants to throw the note in the trash but he just can’t.

　　The note ends up in a drawer beside his bed and somehow Mark ends up on the phone with Dustin five minutes later, because Dustin is probably the most ridiculous person he knows and is therefore the most likely person to make light of the entire situation. Surely when Mark learns how absurd and trivial the note really is, he’ll be able to toss it aside and move on.

　　“Hey, Mark,” Dustin greets enthusiastically.

　　“Dustin. Hi.” Mark begins pacing around his bedroom, the phone pressed to his ear. “This isn’t exactly a business related call, but it’s kind of important. I want you to imagine a hypothetical situation for me.”

　　“Sure. What is it”

　　“Let’s say that hypothetically I find a note that is undoubtedly meant for me to find, even though there aren’t any names on it. The hypothetical person who left me the note happens to be a member of the same sex, which makes this hypothetical situation confusing, because the note says that this person loved me. Hypothetically.”

　　“So what you’re saying is… somebody left a love note and you happened to find it.”

　　“Hypothetically,” Mark corrects. “And no, it isn’t a love note. Let’s say that hypothetically the note says something along the lines of I loved you,you idiot, or something to that effect. How would you interpret such a message”

　　“So Eduardo left you a note.”

　　Mark immediately stops pacing. “Wait. Back up. What makes you think that”

　　“Well obviouslyyour hypothetical note is real and obviously it’s from Eduardo,” says Dustin, unable to keep the smugness out of his voice. “Mark,you really suck at being subtle.”

　　“Fine, fine. Let’s say it was Eduardo who left me a note. But what does it mean when somebody who used to be your best friend says that he loved you Not that I’m worried about it, because I’m not. I’m just merely curious.”

　　Dustin sounds like he’s trying to hold in laughter and is doing a poor job of it. “Well first of all, I don’t see why Eduardo would need to tell you that in a note. I thought it was pretty obvious.”

　　“What do you mean What was obvious”

　　“That he was in love with you.”

　　“That’s ridiculous,” says Mark, hating the way his heart insists on thumping harder than usual. “Wardo was my friend. Sure, friends aren’t expected to tell each other every little detail of their lives, but Wardo was almost inhumanly honest and never held anything back, so I’m sure he would have told me something like that earlier.”

　　“Nope, not necessarily.”

　　“Obviously I’m overreacting,” says Mark, ignoring Dustin. “It was stupid of me to call someone up over this. Wardo undoubtedly meant the word in a normal, brotherly way and it was presumptuous of me to assume anything otherwise.”

　　“Yeah,you keep telling yourself that,” Dustin says brightly. “We all saw that he loved you, even if you couldn’t see a thing.”

　　Talking to Dustin for long periods of time often makes Mark want to throw something, and he swears he’s one step away from hurling his phone at the wall. “I— I still don’t see how this is logically possible. Are we talking about two different Eduardos here”

　　“Just admit that you’re blind, Mark. Not gonna lie, when I first met Eduardo I thought he was, well… gay. You know, the nice hair, the nice clothes, the nice manners. It all pointed in that direction.”

　　“What about Christy”

　　“Yeah, that was a surprise. But then I figured he dated her in an attempt to get over you.”

　　By this point Mark feels too numb to throw his phone or any other object, for that matter, at his bedroom wall or anywhere else. “Right. So basicallyyou’re claiming that— that Wardo loved me and I had no idea, and he didn’t bother to let me know until after he sued me for six hundred million dollars.”

　　“Yeah, that sounds about right,” says Dustin.

　　“Wow, okay. Fantastic. It’s obvious that Wardo knew I had no idea, which is why he called me an idiot in the note, though I don’t see how circumstances would have been different if I had known how Wardo felt all along. I mean, would it have stopped me from creating Facebook and everything else No, of course not.”

　　“Surprise surprise!” Dustin says in an obnoxiously loud voice. “Mark Zuckerberg is actually wrong about something!”

　　Mark knows he could easily hang up the phone and thus cut off this increasingly awkward conversation, but then Dustin would end up harassing him at work and the last thing Mark wants is for this conversation to continue in public. “Dustin, I’m not sure if you listened to a single word I said in the last couple of minutes. I merely stated that Eduardo thinks I’m an idiot because I had no idea that he was supposedly in love with me, if such a thing is even true, and that it would have made no difference if I had known. Please enlighten me and tell me what grievous error I’ve made.”

　　“Well first of all, it would have made a difference. If you had possessed this information that you’ve recently discovered thanks to that note,you might have found alternate ways to cope with your breakup with Erica. Hell,you might not have even dated Erica in the first place. And even if you had dated Erica and created Facemash after she dumped you, and even if you did create Facebook,you probably wouldn’t have thrown everything in with Sean Parker, and you definitely wouldn’t have pushed Eduardo out of the company.”

　　“There’s no logical basis for any of these assumptions,” Mark protests. “Yes, I fucked up a few times where company matters were concerned, but I don’t see where you’re getting these highly irrational ideas from.”

　　“Well…” Dustin laughs nervously. “Before you started dating Erica, I kind of thought you, well… you know.”

　　“No, I actually don’t know, Dustin. I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak in incomplete sentences.”

　　“IthoughtyouwerekindofinlovewithEduardo,” Dustin says quickly.

　　“What”

　　“I thought. You were. Kind of. In love. With Eduardo.” Dustin repeats. “But then it turned out that you were completely oblivious and I was kind of relieved, because it would have been kind of awkward if two of my friends were… you know. Not that I’m judging or anything. But yeah, I think I’ve said too much and you probably want to hit me by now.”

　　Mark takes a deep breath and promises himself that he won’t poison Dustin’s lunch tomorrow. “You’re right. We’ve both said too much and there’s no telling what direction this conversation will spiral off into. No more talking about the note, no more talking about Eduardo, and definitely no more talking about those assumptions that I will not repeat under any circumstances.”

　　“Fine. But don’t you think you should at least call Eduardo and apolo—”

　　“I believe my phone battery is on the verge of dying,” Mark cuts in. “I’ve got to go.”

　　He sticks his phone in his pocket and finds himself staring at the drawer containing Eduardo’s note. Naturally Dustin fed him a whole bunch of bullshit, since he’s Dustin and is therefore completely ridiculous and irrational. In their freshman year of college Dustin confided that he had believed in the Tooth Fairy until he was twelve years old, so it’s no wonder that he believes Eduardo was actually in love with Mark and that Mark could have avoided a major crisis or two if he had known it earlier.

　　Of course Eduardo wasn’t in love with Mark. Sure, he always made certain that Mark ate and slept properly, and sometimes he lent Mark his sweaters when it was especially cold and Mark forgot to dress warm enough, and he had a habit of getting close to Mark and looking at him like he never wanted to let him go, and—

　　Okay. Okay, maybe Eduardo was a little bit in love with Mark, but none of it matters because Mark is alone with his phenomenally successful social networking site and Eduardo has his nice settlement from the lawsuit.

　　They’ve got their own separate lives now and Mark doesn’t want to fuck things up more than he already has.

　　*

　　Work is rather torturous the next day and even Facebook can’t bring Mark into the calm, emotionless little bubble he usually traps himself in. Dustin keeps shooting him significant looks, there isn’t any coffee left in the building, and the internet server is particularly slow—just to piss Mark off, no doubt. Most annoying of all, Eduardo keeps popping into his head at random moments. Eduardo writing the algorithm on the Kirkland window, Eduardo showing up in Palo Alto dripping wet, Eduardo gazing at Mark across the deposition table with enough intensity to power the electric utilities.

　　“Fuck,” Mark mutters out loud. His secretary raises an eyebrow at him, but he waves her away and takes a long drag from the bottle of Coke on his desk.

　　It occurs to him that it’s been ages since he last visited Eduardo’s Facebook page. He’s there in two seconds and he stares at Eduardo’s smiling profile picture, the same picture that Mark uploaded for him when he first created his account.

　　Eduardo is standing outside Kirkland House, dressed in one of his favorite button-down shirts. He looks carefree and happy, and Mark realizes that he can’t remember the last time he saw Eduardo look happy like this. Everything on his Facebook is the same as it was ages ago, as if Eduardo wanted to preserve this happier time of the past, and Mark gets a funny twinge in his chest when he sees that Eduardo’s relationship status says he’s single.

　　Perhaps he should call Eduardo and get the real facts on the note, since Dustin only caused more harm than good. Not that Mark is obsessed with the note, because he definitely isn’t, but it would be nice to get some actual facts.

　　He doesn’t have Eduardo’s current phone number and has no idea where he’s living, though that problem can easily be solved when Mark has a billion dollars and more importantly, hacking skills. Throughout the next hour he pretends to do actual work and turns away anyone who wants to talk to him, including Dustin, who keeps taking scraps of paper and drawing hearts on them just to irritate Mark. It isn’t too difficult for Mark to track down the information he needs, thanks to certain abilities that helped him create Facebook in the first place, and he ends up scribbling Eduardo’s phone number, the numbers of his close acquaintances, his home address, and his e-mail address on a spare piece of notebook paper.

　　There’s nothing wrong with having all of the bases covered. It’s not like Mark is planning to stalk Eduardo or anything, since he would never dream of sinking down to such levels of creepiness and desperation. He just wants a few answers, that’s all, and then once he has them he’ll be able to move on with his life and pretend that none of this ever happened.

　　No mysterious note in the deposition room. No aggravating phone call with Dustin. No tracking Eduardo through the internet. It will all be over, just like that, and Mark will be much better off when he doesn’t have Eduardo on his mind anymore.

　　It’s all Dustin’s fault for having an overactive imagination.

　　*

　　Mark waits until he’s in the privacy of his home before attempting to contact Eduardo. He also waits until he’s had a couple of beers, because alcohol always helps him achieve things that he isn’t entirely sure about, so by the time he’s got his phone in his hand and a couple of empty bottles sitting on the counter, he’s fairly calm about dialing Eduardo’s number and asking him a simple question or two.

　　He tries not to feel anything when the dial tone finally ceases and Eduardo’s voice says, “Hello”

　　“Hi. Wardo. I mean, Eduardo. It’s Mark and I just wanted to—”

　　Eduardo immediately hangs up.

　　“Strike one,” Mark says to himself. “He won’t be able to avoid me forever.” He pulls out the list of phone numbers he had written down and starts calling up everyone who knows Eduardo fairly well, but as soon as he identifies himself as Mark Zuckerberg, each person he calls makes some bullshit excuse and hangs up on him. Next he writes Eduardo an e-mail and politely informs him that he’s curious about the note that was left behind, and that things will never truly be settled between them until he gets an answer. After he sends the e-mail there’s nothing to do but wait, which leads to him pulling out another beer and draining half of it in five minutes.

　　At least he knows that Dustin was completely and utterly wrong. If Eduardo actually loved him, he wouldn’t be trying his best to ignore him.

　　Still, Mark has got to have those answers or he’ll never be able to rest.

　　*

　　It shouldn’t be surprising that all of Mark’s communication attempts are highly unsuccessful.

　　After all, Eduardo just sued him for six hundred million dollars after Mark basically shoved him out of the company, so it’s no wonder that Eduardo wants absolutely nothing to do with him. For an entire week Mark tries to call him and e-mail him, until Eduardo finally blocks his phone number and e-mail address. Mark even tries to contact him through Facebook, but nothing works and he considers getting a new e-mail address along with a false identity.

　　The note continues to sit in his drawer and every once in a while Mark will take it out and examine it, as though hoping that the message is actually written in code and that he’ll decipher it if he stares at it long enough. Or perhaps there’s an explanation written in invisible ink and he needs to hold it under a certain light or apply heat to it in order to reveal the hidden words.

　　He’s disturbed by how much hold this note has over him. Mark isn’t used to dwelling upon things like this and every time he tries to distract himself with Facebook, his mind ends up jumping to Eduardo and the words I loved you,you idiot refuse to leave him alone.

　　He has to get Eduardo off and his mind, and quickly. The last time he tried to get someone off his mind he ended up ranking girls on Facemash and had Eduardo write an algorithm on his dorm room wall, and— it’s all just a never-ending cycle because no matter what he thinks about, it always leads back to Eduardo.

　　The only logical thing to do is track Eduardo down in person and force him to have a conversation, or at least look him in the eye. Eduardo seemed to have no problem staring directly into his face during the lawsuit, so Mark doesn’t see why he would have a problem with it now.

　　All he has to do is tell his secretary he’ll be out of the office for two of three days and just like that, he’s free to pursue the address he wrote down along with all the phone numbers. Surely Eduardo will understand that he merely wants to settle some unfinished business and nothing more, and surely Eduardo will realize that it was stupid of him to leave an incredibly cryptic note without bothering to explain what it means or why he left it.

　　It’s all Eduardo’s fault, after all, and if he doesn’t want to talk to Mark then he shouldn’t have bothered writing the message in the first place.

　　Catching a flight to New York is no big deal, though Mark feels jetlagged when he gets off the plane and he wishes he had brought warmer clothes. His tracking leads him to a clean, contemporary apartment building and he wonders if Eduardo obtained it with his settlement from the lawsuit. The idea makes his stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot and he shuffles past the doorman after assuring him that he isn’t a thief or a rapist or a maniac with a bomb. He decides to take the stairs, since elevators have always made him somewhat claustrophobic and he doesn’t like the idea of putting his life into the hands of a giant metal box that could easily trap its passengers within its walls, no matter how high quality the apartment building is.

　　He’s got Eduardo’s address memorized so well, it’s like he’s the one who lives there instead of Eduardo and he finds the correct floor and number without having to consult his notes. He just automatically knows it’s the right apartment, just like he knows when his birthday is or how many friends he has on Facebook. Naturally there’s a security camera and an intercom and somehow Mark knows that Eduardo is home, though there isn’t any evidence. It’s just one of those unexplainable feelings.

　　Before he gets a chance to do anything, the door swings open and Eduardo appears.

　　“You!” Eduardo chokes out. He’s one step away from walking into straight into Mark and he hastily takes a step backward, practically tripping over himself in the process.

　　“I find it hard to believe that you’ve forgotten my name,” says Mark, “considering the fact that you behaved like I had the plague every time I spoke my name into the phone or typed it into an e-mail.”

　　“What are you doing here” Eduardo demands. He’s dressed the same way he’s always dressed for as long as Mark has known him—nice button-down shirt in a grayish teal color, with black slacks and shiny black shoes. He stares at Mark like he’s seeing a ghost.

　　“I think it should be obvious why I’m here,” says Mark, and he’s a little surprised at how calmly the words leave his mouth. “I’ve been attempting to contact you for exactly six days now through the use of both the internet and the telephone, and I know you have access to both of them because you were able to block me. I’m aware of the fact that we’re not good terms right now, but I believe you’re obligated to have a civil conversation with me for about ten minutes in order to clear up a matter that was started byyou, not me.”

　　Eduardo’s eyes dart to the left, then to the right, and he lowers his voice. “All right, all right. Let’s get inside. But only because I don’t want to create a scene and upset the neighbors.”

　　“Why did you open the door in the first place” Mark asks. “Did you know I was here”

　　“No, I was going to head out and do some grocery shopping, but it can wait. Come on.” Eduardo turns away from Mark and leads him through the door.

　　Eduardo’s apartment is neat and basic, unsurprisingly, with plain furniture and books lying around in small, orderly stacks. Mark doesn’t get a chance to look around because Eduardo directs him to a chair and sits on the matching sofa across from him. “First of all, I want you to understand that I don’t want you here,” says Eduardo. “In fact, I would be perfectly happy if I never saw your face again.”

　　“This isn’t a social call,” says Mark. “I just want an explanation for this.” He pulls the note out of his pocket and sets it on the coffee table in front of Eduardo, keeping his eyes fixated on Eduardo’s face.

　　“Why did you keep that” Eduardo demands. His voice is quiet and he refuses to look at Mark, choosing to stare down at the note instead.

　　“Why did you write it If it’s true that you would rather spend the rest of your life without seeing my face again, then why would you leave one last piece of communication Either your logic is incredibly flawed or you’re stuck in a serious case of denial.”

　　Eduardo raises his head and it’s like the deposition room all over again, minus the lawyers but double the tension. “I didn’t intend for that note to be the start of another conversation. I just wanted to have the last word and let you know how ridiculous it all was. How everything I ever did for you was in vain.”

　　Mark meets Eduardo’s gaze without blinking, like they’re in some sort of staring contest that will determine who is right and who is wrong. “So is it true then”

　　“Is what true”

　　“That you love me.”

　　“Sure, I did love you, but I don’t anymore,” says Eduardo. “Do you really expect me to have any feelings towards you that are even remotely similar to love I’ve moved on and so should you, because it’s not like you truly care anyway.”

　　Mark is slightly annoyed, because if he didn’t care then he obviously wouldn’t be here, but he isn’t too annoyed because he’s too busy wrapping his mind around the fact that Eduardo just said that he loved him. “Let’s clarify something here,” he says. “When you use that particular verb in regard to your feelings towards me, what is the exact intensity of that verb Brotherly Friendly Romantic Metaphorical”

　　“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” says Eduardo.

　　“You didn’t answer my question.”

　　“Maybe because you worded it so pretentiously.”

　　Mark finally blinks. “I thought I worded the question simply enough. Were you or were you not in love with me If that’s too complicated I can simplify it further and—”

　　“Yes, Mark!” Eduardo cuts in, slamming his hand on the sofa for emphasis. “I was in love with you, all right I was stupidly in love with you until you removed my name from the Facebook masthead and diluted my share down to .03%. Is that what you want to hear Because if it is, then I would be more than happy to escort you out of my apartment.”

　　“Wardo,” Mark begins, but Eduardo immediately flinches at the nickname. “Eduardo, I had absolutely no intentions of upsetting you by coming here. And yes,you answered one of my questions, but I still have a couple more left.”

　　“How did you even get here”

　　“I once crashed the internet server at Harvard, remember There are very few things I’m incapable of doing online.”

　　“So you stalked me.”

　　Mark stares at him and shrugs. “Call it what you want. Now regarding our previous topic of conversation, why did you wait until after the lawsuit to tell me this”

　　“No, no more questions,” says Eduardo. “You’ve overstayed your welcome, Mark. Here, take your note and don’t come near my home again, do you understand”

　　“I think that’s a bit harsh.”

　　“I’m still in contact with my lawyer. Do you want me to issue a restraining order”

　　“No, of course not, but you can’t go through the rest of your life trying to avoid me. At least unblock my phone number and e-mail address.”

　　Eduardo’s dark eyes burn into Mark’s and for the first time it really, truly hits Mark that Eduardo loved him, and maybe all of Dustin’s bullshit wasn’t so far-fetched after all. “I’ll think about it,” says Eduardo. “Now please get out.”

　　Mark silently takes the note off the coffee table and stuffs it back into the pocket of his hoodie. He can feel Eduardo’s eyes on the back of his head as he heads out the door, but he doesn’t turn around and wonders how a mere scrap of paper could have caused so much trouble.

　　*

　　Mark isn’t the type of person who dwells upon past events. He was forced to dig through his memories to provide testimony during his lawsuits with Eduardo and the Winklevoss twins, of course, but aside from that he tends to bury the past and move forward. Ever since he left Eduardo’s apartment and returned to his usual routine, however, he finds himself thinking about his time at Harvard during the most unexpected moments, like when he’s waiting in line for a sandwich at the shop down the street, or washing his hands at the bathroom sink, or checking the voicemails on his phone.

　　They aren’t huge, detailed memories. Just little bits and pieces, like random photos that worked themselves loose from the scrapbook.

　　He remembers that Eduardo had acted strangely when Mark first started dating Erica Albright. It didn’t mean anything at the time and Mark is surprised he even noticed, but now it’s clear that Eduardo must have been jealous and a little hurt.

　　He remembers that he often walked around in cargo shorts and flip-flops in freezing cold weather, and it drove Eduardo crazy. Naturally it only looked like friendly concern at the time, though Mark knows his mother used to always scold his father for not wearing a coat.

　　He remembers that Eduardo liked leaning in close to him, often hovering right over him while Mark worked at his computer. Eduardo was always patting him on the back, letting his hand linger upon his shoulder, and generally getting much closer than Dustin or Chris or anyone else did. What seemed perfectly normal in the past has a whole new meaning when it’s analyzed in the present, and it’s all a little unreal.

　　No matter how much Mark tries to look at it in a detached, abstract way, it’s incredibly weird knowing that his best friend was in love with him.

　　The only sensible thing he can do is throw himself entirely into Facebook and refuse to give his attention to anything else.

　　For a few days Mark sacrifices sleep—which was never a big priority for him anyway—and survives on basic takeout food that can be quickly consumed in a matter of minutes. The rest of his time is spent in front of the computer screen, powering up on beer and Code Red Mountain Dew while he works, works, and works some more.

　　Nobody remarks upon his robot-like workaholic mode, since this kind of behavior isn’t unusual in the least bit, and Mark could have gone on working at this pace forever if it wasn’t for an e-mail sent to him from Eduardo, of all people. It’s only a single line of text, short and to the point:

　　Fine, I unblocked you, but there’s nothing more for us to say to each other.

　　Mark reads the message on his computer screen several times, processing the words. Fine, he’s free to call and e-mail Eduardo now. No big deal. And it’s true, the lawsuit is over and done with, along with their friendship, therefore there’s nothing they can possibly say to each other. Right.

　　Mark keeps staring at the e-mail until the words blur together and turn into a narrow black haze. He remembers all the times he and Eduardo gazed at each other in the deposition room, all those staring contests and silent conversations shared across the table.

　　Nothing more for us to say to each other.

　　Then what about the deposition room What about the note What about this e-mail

　　Mark’s fingers hover over the keyboard for what feels like an eternity, and when he finally touches the keys he types out a reply to Eduardo’s message. It’s a stupid idea born out of sleep deprivation, lack of proper food, and too much time coding, which only makes such an incredibly stupid idea appear brilliant.

　　False statement, Mark types. There’s an infinite number of words we can possibly say to each other if we choose. Like why were you in love with me in the first place I don’t need anyone to be in love with me.

　　He hits the “send” button before common sense can stop him and immediately switches to Facebook so he can read the obnoxious comments Dustin posted to his status updates. It’s partially Dustin’s fault that Mark feels so weird about Eduardo these days and he makes a mental note to hack into Dustin’s Facebook account so he can mess with his profile. Dustin will surely retaliate with some hacking of his own, but Mark would gladly welcome some internet warfare as a distraction.

　　Ten minutes later he checks his e-mail and finds nothing from Eduardo, which shouldn’t be surprising since it’s three o’clock in the morning and Eduardo is all the way in New York. Still, it would have been nice to find a reply in his inbox because Mark is in an argumentative mood and would love nothing more than to debate with Eduardo via e-mail. For the next hour he wastes time on Facebook while checking his mail every five minutes like clockwork, until he accepts the fact that Eduardo won’t reply and finally falls into bed.

　　*

　　The next day crawls by at an incredibly slow pace. First of all there’s still no reply from Eduardo, no matter how many times Mark refreshes his inbox, and this causes him to have no enthusiasm for work whatsoever. Nobody at the Facebook office thinks this is unusual either, since Mark has become notorious for pushing himself to exhaustion and then crash-landing like a suicide bomber afterwards. Dustin notices of course, because Dustin notices everything that Mark would rather conceal, and he strolls up to Mark’s desk so he can plunk an oversized cup of coffee next to the keyboard.

　　“How’s it going” Dustin asks, cheerfully ignoring the unfriendly(and incredibly groggy) look on Mark’s face. “Been losing sleep over any more mysterious notes from Brazilians that you’ve wronged”

　　Mark says nothing and reaches for the coffee. It scalds his tongue the moment he takes a sip and he glares at Dustin even harder.

　　“So,” says Dustin. He takes a seat right on Mark’s desk, perching himself next to a stack of important papers Mark hasn’t bothered to touch yet. “Eduardo’s got you pretty messed up.”

　　“It’s not Eduardo,” Mark finally says.

　　“Of course it’s Eduardo. It’s always Eduardo.”

　　Mark takes another burning sip of coffee and decides to glare at Dustin some more instead of answering.

　　“I know it’s Eduardo,” Dustin says more gently. “After he burst in and told you that he was suing,you weren’t yourself at all. Even less normal than usual, if that’s possible. You acted like… like your pet cat had just gotten run over by a car or something.”

　　“My best friend came in and smashed my laptop, then started yelling about Pradas and fuck-you flip-flips and how I’d better lawyer up,” says Mark. “Of course I was affected by it. Anyone would have been affected by it.”

　　“Yeah, well, looks like the Eduardo Effect has made a comeback. Didn’t you go to New York or something and talk to him”

　　“That’s irrelevant,” says Mark. Ever since he got back from New York, Dustin has been trying to find out what exactly had happened between him and Eduardo, and Mark has done his best to withhold that information. It’s not like anything significant happened anyway. “Thanks for the coffee. You can go now.”

　　“But—”

　　“Dustin. Out.”

　　Dustin shoots a sulky look at him, then grabs the cup of coffee so he can take an unnecessary large gulp from it before hopping off the desk and walking away. Mark just sighs and refreshes his inbox again.

　　There’s one new message from Eduardo.

　　One new message.

　　From Eduardo.

　　Mark blinks, wondering if he’s just tired and imagining things, but no, there’s an actual e-mail in his inbox from Eduardo Saverin and all the blinking in the world isn’t making it disappear. He takes a third sip of coffee, not caring that Dustin’s mouth had been on the rim of his cup just seconds ago, and clicks the message so he can read it.

　　I originally wasn’t going to reply to you but I came up with so many comebacks, I couldn’t let them go to waste. I don’t know whyyou’re suddenly so interested in my past feelings towards you, since you never took any interest when it really mattered, but please stop asking me about it. Yes, it was probably a mistake to write you that note in the first place, but I don’t regret it because I’m the only one who’s willing to remind you of what an asshole you are.

　　You sayyou don’t need anyone to be in with love you. Fine. But nobody ever loved you back when we were in school; not Erica, not your groupies, not Sean Parker, no matter what bullshit he may have fed you. There was only me, and now there’s no one because nobody else is ever going to love you.

　　But if you’re happy with that, then fine. You’re only capable of loving your computer anyway.

　　Mark feels like somebody injected his veins with caffeine. He’s suddenly wide-awake and it’s a good thing Dustin left when he did, or else he would demand to see the e-mail and then proceed to analyze it with his over-the-top, so-called logic. Sure, Mark hasn’t managed to find himself a steady girlfriend in the last few years, but Eduardo doesn’t need to rub it in and claim that he’s some sort of social outcast. Creating Facebook and becoming the world’s youngest billionaire are certainly not social outcast criteria, whatever Eduardo might think.

　　And yes, Mark has always found it easier to deal with computers than human beings, but it doesn’t mean that he’s only capable of loving a machine. Eduardo just wants to antagonize him because Mark dropped in at his apartment unannounced, and he’s probably still bitter over the lawsuit.

　　And so what if Eduardo was supposedly the only person who loved Mark It obviously did neither of them any good since the two of them are currently estranged and were on opposite sides of a court case. If Eduardo had loved Mark so much, he would have moved out to California like Mark had asked him to instead of wasting hours on New York subways trying to get advertisers. Then maybe he wouldn’t have gotten left behind and there would have been no reason to dilute him out of the company, which would have prevented the lawsuit altogether.

　　You should have moved to California, he types in reply to Eduardo’s e-mail. It’s not my fault you got left behind. You say I’m only in love with my computer, which is rather hypocritical because you were obviously more interested in getting into New York business just to please your father. Is that whyyou were in love with me Because daddy didn’t think you were good enough and you were left feeling desperate

　　All right, maybe that’s a little harsh, but the fact remains that you could have come out here and you chose not to. Looks like you were more in love with making bad decisions.

　　Adrenaline, fueled by his annoyance, pumps through Mark as he sends the e-mail and finishes off his coffee. Yet despite being annoyed with Eduardo, Mark actually misses him in a weird way. It’s eerily similar to the way he felt after Erica broke up with him, minus the drunk blogging and Harvard dorm facebook hacking. He doesn’t know what would have happened if Eduardo really had moved out to California when he was supposed to, but it certainly wouldn’t have left him wanting Eduardo and hating him at the same time.

　　No, not wanting Eduardo. Perhaps simply wishing to see him, or even just being on decent terms with him again. The thought of wanting Eduardo is ridiculous and Mark blames the coffee, which was probably spiked with something before Dustin handed it to him. He should know better about trusting beverages from Dustin.

　　Yes, that’s definitely it. Just the coffee, along with sleep deprivation and—

　　Another new message from Eduardo. Mark wasn’t expecting him to reply so quickly, or even to reply at all.

　　That’s it. You wanted me to come to California, so I’ll come to California. Expect me in your office tomorrow.

　　And no, this won’t be a social call. You refuse to end this in a reasonable manner, so I’ll have to do it for you.

　　Mark doesn’t bother to reply this time.

　　*

　　If yesterday was slow and excruciating, then today is downright unbearable on an unthinkable level. There’s no way of knowing if Eduardo’s last e-mail was serious or not and Mark isn’t stupid enough to call Eduardo up and ask him, so he’s left staring at the clock and gazing blankly at anyone who tries to talk to him. Dustin is no help, as usual, and Mark can’t stop compulsively checking his e-mail just in case Eduardo sends word.

　　He supposes he would like to see Eduardo again. Maybe. Just for a moment. Okay, maybe longer than a moment, but not long enough for them to start shouting at each other. Last time the two of them confronted one another at an office of Facebook, Mark ended up with a smashed laptop and would dearly hate to repeat the experience.

　　He hides his laptop in the bottom drawer of his desk, just in case.
　　When his secretary informs him that there’s a visitor wanting to see him, Mark spits out the sip of Coke he had just taken and has to rush into the bathroom just outside his office to clean up the soda dribbled on his shirt. By the time he gets back to his office Eduardo is already there, sitting right in Mark’s chair behind the desk. He’s wearing a three-piece suit of dark gray material and slowly spins himself around in the swivel chair.

　　“So this is what it feels like,” he says. “CEO of Facebook.”

　　“That’s my seat,” Mark tells him.

　　“I know.”

　　“Then why are you sitting in it”

　　Eduardo stops spinning and fixes his eyes upon Mark. “I wanted to know what it feels like to sit in the chair of a professional asshole. Do you sit here every day and wait for stupid ideas to hit you, or does the magic happen elsewhere”

　　Mark stares back at him, forgetting that there’s still a wet spot on his shirt. “As weird as it is, I think I liked it better when you were in love with me. You were a lot more civil.”

　　“I wish you would quit bringing that up.”

　　“You brought it up first. Remember the note”

　　“I thought you would have glanced at it and thrown it away,” says Eduardo.” How was I supposed to know you would become obsessed with it”

　　“I’m not obsessed with it.”

　　“Then how do you explain the e-mails you sent me yesterday How do you explain showing up at my apartment in New York You know what I think happened, Mark I think you finally realized that you do need someone to be in love with you, and you’re trying your best to get that back.”

　　Mark stands rooted to the spot, blood pounding in his ears while he watches Eduardo sit in his high-backed swivel chair.

　　“But you’re too late,” Eduardo says quietly. “I don’t love you anymore.”

　　“Is that supposed to upset me or something” asks Mark.

　　“Of course not. You’re like a machine, Mark. All you do is eat and sleep and code and never feel anything.”

　　“You’re exactly right,” says Mark. For a moment he wonders what it would be like to have Eduardo back in his life. Not as a best friend obviously, since that phase of their life appears to be over, and definitely not to date him or anything, because that idea is still too weird, but perhaps something else entirely. “This is stupid,” he tells Eduardo.

　　“Thank you,” says Eduardo, looking relieved. “I’m glad you finally realized that. Now I can go home and you’ll stop pestering me, right”

　　Mark stands there and blinks. “No,you misunderstand me. I mean this right here is stupid. You’re in my seat. You keep implying that you want nothing to do with me,yet you flew out here and came to my office.”

　　“I prefer dealing with serious issues in person.”

　　“Yes, but you could have just ignored me. You already blocked my e-mail and phone number once and I can’t imagine what would stop you from doing so again.”

　　“Well ignoring you wouldn’t make the problem go away.”

　　“It doesn’t have to be a problem,” Mark says promptly. “And it’s obvious that you shouldn’t go back to New York just yet because I’ll only pester you with more e-mails, which you’ll be compelled to answer since you can’t ignore the issue. I assume you don’t have a hotel room.”

　　Eduardo looks taken aback. “No, I don’t have a hotel room. What does it matter to you”

　　“That’s perfect then.”

　　“I don’t understand.”

　　Mark shuffles a bit closer to his desk and pulls a key out of his pocket. “It’s simple. The best way to deal with this ‘problem,’ as you call it, is proximity, therefore I propose that you stay in my home for a few days so we don’t have to aggravate each other from opposite sides of the country.”

　　Eduardo just stares at him. “What”

　　“Here.” Mark tosses the key onto the desk where Eduardo can reach it. “My house key. Now I would appreciate it if I could finally have my chair back.”

　　Eduardo doesn’t the touch the key. In fact, he looks as though Mark just told him that earth has been invaded by hordes of alien spaceships. “You want me to live with you,” he says hollowly.

　　“Just for a few days. In fact, I would prefer to label it as temporarily sharing the same living space.”

　　“Mark, this is going to be disastrous.”

　　“Quite the opposite, actually. You packing up and going straight back to New York would be disastrous. There are some things that obviously can’t be resolved in a deposition room.”

　　Eduardo slowly reaches out to take the key and turns it over in his fingers, thinking to himself. “All right,” he says after a long moment of reflection. “If that’s what it takes to… to resolve this, then I’ll do it.”

　　“Good,” says Mark. “Now I’d like my chair back.”

　　Eduardo leaves the office without another word, Mark’s house key secured in the pocket of his suit jacket, and Mark immediately resumes his rightful place behind the desk. His seat is warm from Eduardo’s body heat and he wonders if his sanity has cracked at last, because he can’t give a logical explanation for any of his recent actions.

　　*

　　“So the man himself arrived here,” Dustin remarks when Mark has to use the urinal an hour later. “What did you guys talk about”

　　Mark can’t believe he was unlucky enough to use the bathroom at the same time as Dustin. He pretends not to hear him and focuses on pissing in an exactly straight line.

　　“Mark Hey, Mark. I asked you a question. What did you and Eduardo talk about”

　　“Nothing important,” Mark replies.

　　“Guess he misses you.”

　　“Don’t be ridiculous. Wardo— I mean, Eduardo, is hypocritical at times and finds it impossible to leave issues alone, but I doubt that he misses me.”

　　Dustin just grins in an infuriating way. “Sure, Mark. Sure. And I’m sure you don’t miss him at all either, do you Even though you get all weird and closed-off whenever I try to talk about him and you still have that note he left you and you can’t stop calling him Wardo. Right, I get it.”

　　“Dustin, please stop talking,” says Mark. “Just— just stop, okay”

　　“You don’t want to hear my words of wisdom”

　　Mark finishes pissing and gives Dustin his most blank, unwelcoming stare. “I’m just going to ignore you for the rest of the day, if that’s all right.”

　　“All right, all right. But it’s kind of obvious that Eduardo wanted to see you, isn’t it I mean, why else would he bother to fly out here”

　　Mark doesn’t respond and exits the bathroom as quickly as he can, just to avoid hearing Eduardo’s name yet again. He would gladly return to his normal routine of Facebook, Facebook, and more Facebook, but now everything in his life seems to be Eduardo, Eduardo, and Eduardo and there’s no escape. Of course, Mark isn’t sure that he wants to escape, which makes it even more confusing.

　　There’s also the fact that Eduardo is going to be staying in his home for a few days, and Mark has a sudden vision of three-piece suits hanging in his closet and business magazines scattered across his coffee table.

　　He hates the fact that Dustin is right most of the time.

　　*

　　When it’s time for Mark to get off work and go home, it occurs to him that Eduardo could have easily thrown his key into a gutter somewhere and hopped on a plane back to New York. This apparently is not the case, however, because when Mark arrives home his door is unlocked and Eduardo is sitting on his living room couch reading a book.

　　“What a surprise,” Mark says as he shuts the front door and kicks his shoes off. “You stuck to the agreement.”

　　“You may have no problem betraying people, but I don’t go back on my word,” says Eduardo.

　　“Ouch,” says Mark. “That was hurtful.”

　　“You think that’s hurtful Try getting stabbed in the back.”

　　Mark really wishes that Eduardo would quit making self-pitying remarks like this. Feeling uncomfortable in his own living room, he gazes at the carpet and shrugs. “Well if you really didn’t want to be here,you would have left. Or at least tried to argue against the arrangement.”

　　Eduardo throws down the book he was reading, not caring if he damages any of the pages. “You know, Mark, sometimes I really hate talking to you. Do you never experience any kind of emotion or are you just really good at hiding it”

　　“Wardo.” Mark bites his bottom lip. “Eduardo. My own emotions aren’t the issue here, so there’s no point in bringing them up. It’s your own emotions that need to be dealt with. Also, I…” He bites his lip again, staring resolutely at the carpet. “I’d like you to forgive me.”

　　A moment of silence, loaded with tension, comes between them and Mark dares a glance at Eduardo. Eduardo, whose face is normally so expressive, is impossible to read as he sits on the couch watching Mark. “You want me to forgive you,” Eduardo echoes, as if Mark had said something foreign.

　　“Yes,” says Mark. “I already stated that.”

　　“Don’t you think there’s something you should say to me first”

　　“I’ve already said plenty. More than I intended to, in fact.”

　　“Really, Mark” Eduardo presses. “There’s really nothing else you think you ought to say”

　　“I’m not in the mood for talking in circles or playing guessing games. You either forgive me or you don’t, and I can obviously see that you don’t, so I’m going to go check my e-mail while you can continue to sit here feeling sorry for yourself.”

　　Mark regrets his words the moment he says them, but it’s too late to take them back and he walks off before something even more stupid comes out of his mouth. As soon as he reaches his room he yanks open the drawer containing the note Eduardo left in the deposition room. I loved you,you idiot stares up at him and Mark finds it hard to believe that such a thing is true when he and Eduardo do nothing but argue every time they talk.

　　Mark shuts the drawer and seeks solace in his computer, the only thing that ever makes perfect sense to him. As long as he has his coding and Facebook and—

　　He stops dead as Facebook loads on his computer screen. Somebody updated his status fifteen minutes ago.

　　Mark Zuckerberg loves Eduardo Saverin.

　　“Dustin,” Mark mutters to himself. He should have known Dustin would hack into his account and play a joke on him like this. To his horror he realizes that a number of people liked this fake update and he quickly deletes it without bothering to read any of the comments. After a moment of thinking, he types up a new status update.

　　Mark Zuckerberg is highly annoyed with Dustin Moskovitz for making false statements. Expect retaliation for that little hacking stunt of yours.

　　He updates his status, hoping that will remedy the matter, and tries to think up a suitable revenge to get Dustin with. Perhaps he’ll update Dustin’s status saying that he’s engaged to a mountain goat. Or that he had a successful sex-change operation. Or that—

　　Someone knocks softly upon the door, interrupting Mark’s thoughts. Mark closes his laptop and says, “Come in.”

　　It’s Eduardo, unsurprisingly, and he enters the room with the cautiousness of someone who’s afraid of a bomb going off. “Hey,” says Eduardo. “I, uh, don’t want to fight anymore.”

　　Mark feels a bit sick when he looks at Eduardo, or at least he thinks it’s sickness. He certainly feels strange and the way Eduardo is looking at him doesn’t help at all. “Good,” he says, nodding his head.

　　“But I’m leaving in the morning. This isn’t going to work.”

　　Mark frowns. “Please elaborate.”

　　“It should be obvious, shouldn’t it Too much has happened and spending a couple of nights here isn’t going to reverse that.”

　　“I’m not asking for you to reverse anything. It’s just… it’s obvious that you’re unhappy.”

　　Eduardo looks dumbfounded for a moment.

　　“You can sit down, by the way,” says Mark. “I’m tired of craning my neck while I talk to you.”

　　Eduardo takes a seat on the bed, just a few short feet from Mark’s computer chair. They’re on an equal level now and Mark doesn’t feel any less sick than he did five minutes ago, but at least this is something of an improvement.

　　“So it’s obvious that I’m unhappy,” Eduardo echoes somewhat derisively. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

　　“It shouldn’t be surprising, considering the fact that it’s obvious.”

　　“Well trust me, I’ll feel better when I leave tomorrow morning.”

　　“Somehow I doubt that,” says Mark. “You were a lot happier when you were in love with me.”

　　“Yeah, well that turned out to be a disaster,” says Eduardo. “The happiness wasn’t worth it in the end.”

　　“But still,you were happier.”

　　“What are you getting at, Mark”

　　“I think I love you,” Mark says suddenly. It isn’t a feeling, but more like an elusive piece of information that has finally found its way to his conscious mind. It all clicks into place—his decision to let Eduardo stay here, the sick feeling in his chest, the fake status update. Mark Zuckerberg loves Eduardo Saverin. Yes, of course. Stupid Dustin is always right somehow.

　　Eduardo looks like Mark just shot him. “I changed my mind. I’m not leaving tomorrow morning.”

　　“Excellent,” says Mark. “I’ll just—”

　　“I’m leaving right now,” Eduardo cuts in.

　　“Okay,” says Mark. “This is not the reaction I was expecting.”

　　“What, were you expecting me to tell you that everything is all right now I don’t want a useless love declaration, Mark. The only thing I’ve wanted since the day I threatened to sue you is an apology.”

　　“Oh,” Mark says blankly.

　　Eduardo storms out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, and Mark can picture him gathering up his things and rushing out of the apartment. There’s no use in trying to stop him, though Mark feels strangely empty in a way that’s fifty times worse than the time Erica Albright dumped him. No wonder Eduardo doesn’t love him anymore, because it’s clearly more trouble than it’s worth.

　　*

　　Mark has a couple of meetings scheduled the next day and he tries not to fall asleep through either of them, though he’s so bored it’s a miracle he can even think. By the time work is over he’s in a self-destructive mood and drags himself home with a carton of Chinese takeout and a six-pack of beer. It’s no different from his usual routine of sitting at home in front of his laptop with a takeout dinner and a beer sitting on the desk, only this time there’s a lot more beer involved.

　　He’s always had a special talent for being able to type properly while drunk, much to the envy of all his acquaintances who are only capable typing gibberish once they’re good and hammered. Mark also has a talent for making bad decisions online while he’s drunk, which is what leads him to log into his e-mail and type a message to Eduardo.

　　I’M SORRY, he types out after taking a long swig of alcohol. There. I finally said it. I hope you’re happy now.

　　He sends the e-mail and spends an entire hour refreshing his inbox, over and over, until he passes out on top of his keyboard.

　　*

　　He’s confused when he sits in his office the next morning, tired and hungover, and finds an e-mail from Eduardo in his inbox. Last night is a complete blur in his mind and he can’t imagine why Eduardo would want to e-mail him when he couldn’t wait to leave and get back to New York.

　　Your apology is too late, Eduardo writes. You should have realized on your own that I would have forgiven you if you had said sorry before I left, but you fucked up. Again.

　　Mark clicks on his recently sent e-mails and finds the message he had written when he was drunk last night. Great. He has the money to buy anything he could possibly want in the world, but the only thing he wants is Eduardo and a billion dollars won’t get him back. He opens Eduardo’s e-mail again and writes a reply.

　　I apologize for my last message. I was intoxicated and didn’t realize that my words were both stupid and unnecessary. Obviously the word sorry isn’t going to fix anything, especially not now, so I’m asking you to come up with an alternate solution. How do I get you to forgive me

　　What he really wants to ask is how he can get Eduardo to love him again, but this time he’s sober and knows better than to ask such a stupid question. Real life is the most complicated thing he’s ever encountered and he wishes it could be simple like technology. If this was simply a technical problem, he could easily diagnose the situation and create a line of code that would correct it, but real life doesn’t work that way and he’s left wondering what to do with himself.

　　Maybe he can come up with a list of things Eduardo likes. He tried doing that once when he was dating Erica, though he was mistaken when he assumed she liked dates that took place over instant messenger. He knows Eduardo better than he knew Erica, even after the lawsuit, and he ignores all of his incoming business calls in favor of staring at his computer screen and brainstorming.

　　Eduardo likes nice clothes. That definitely hasn’t changed.

　　The weather. He was always crazy about the weather when they were in college and if Mark is lucky, this interest hasn’t subsided yet.

　　Economics. Business. Math. Mark will have to do some reading up on these subjects.

　　Brazilian food. Obviously.

　　He’s tempted to add chickens to this mental list, but that would be mean.

　　The next step is to book a flight to New York, because there’s no way he could possibly get Eduardo to fly out to California again. Mark normally doesn’t care about money and most of the time forgets he even has a billion dollars, but there are times when being wealthy comes in handy because he can take as many trips as he pleases without suffering financial consequences. Being the CEO also has its perks, because nobody can stop him.

　　His secretary interrupts his thought process to inform him that he has yet another boring meeting tomorrow morning, and Mark asks her to reschedule it. After she’s gone he refreshes his inbox for exactly the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes and finds three new e-mails. The top one is from Eduardo.

　　I would prefer it if you left me alone. Ever since we got back in contact with each other, we’ve done nothing but make each other miserable and I’m tired of it. And the fact that you apologized while drunk makes your apology even more meaningless, so you’re going to have to work a lot harder if you want me to forgive you.

　　You can start by giving me some space and quit sending me e-mails. I can easily block you again.

　　Fine. Mark can easily stop sending him e-mails, no problem. It’s not like the two of them have any meaningful conversations over cyberspace anyway, so there’s no point in trying to reason with Eduardo via e-mail any further. And if Eduardo wants Mark to work extra hard in order to gain his forgiveness, then that’s also fine.

　　Challenge accepted.

　　*

　　It isn’t easy to arrange a second trip to New York, especially when he’s been so distracted lately, but Mark insists that it’s a business trip and gets on a plane anyway. He spends the entire flight reading up on meteorology and economics and even manages to dress himself in something besides a hooded sweatshirt and shorts, which is still his preferred type of attire. He had to dig through his closet and pull out a collared shirt he hasn’t worn in at least a year, along with a jacket he wore to a cocktail party once. Not the most comfortable outfit in the world, in his opinion, and he wonders how Eduardo can stand wearing suits all the time.

　　As soon as he arrives in New York he picks up a copy of the Wall Street Journal and reads through it before going to Eduardo’s place. He reaches the apartment much more quickly than last time and passes the same exact doorman, who gives him a brief inspection, and finds himself in front of Eduardo’s door with only a slight touch of anxiety.

　　He got lucky last time when he arrived right when Eduardo was about to go grocery shopping. There’s a very small chance that he’ll be so lucky again and after staring at the intercom for at least thirty seconds, Mark decides not to bother with it and knocks upon the door, hoping that Eduardo is home and can hear him.

　　No response. Mark knocks again, louder this time.

　　The seconds tick by and Eduardo appears at last, impeccably dressed in his usual button-down shirt and slacks. He stares at Mark, more stunned than upset, and doesn’t slam the door in his face like Mark half-expects him to. “You don’t give up, do you” he asks.

　　“Of course not,” Mark replies.

　　“Why are you here this time If you found any more notes, they’re not from me, all right”

　　“This has nothing to do with any notes. You said you want me to leave you alone,yet you also told me to work at gaining your forgiveness, and since I can’t achieve those two goals simultaneously I decided to disregard the first one. I’m missing some important meetings in order to be here, so it would be rude and inconvenient of you to turn me away.”

　　Eduardo looks more stunned than before. “Mark,you are unreal. And you obviously don’t know how to take a hint because I’ve told you more times than I count that it’s unhealthy for us to see each other.”

　　“You never said that explicitly,” Mark points out.

　　“Maybe not in those exact words, but it was definitely implied. We can’t do this.”

　　“You may have sued me for six hundred million dollars, but you never signed an agreement saying that you can never associate with me again or make any attempts to forgive me. I’m tired and starving right now and I happened to book a private table at a restaurant that serves Brazilian cuisine, so we’d better head out so I get my money’s worth.”

　　Eduardo looks like he’s trying to decide whether to laugh or smack Mark upside the head. “You— I can’t believe—”

　　“We can save the talk for later,” Mark interrupts. “I see you’re already dressed appropriately—not that that’s a surprise—so I assume you’re ready to go in a physical sense, at least.”

　　Mark must have made a convincing enough argument, because Eduardo locks up his apartment and goes out onto the street with him so he can hail a cab. Mark normally remains silent during car rides and prefers to look out the window the entire time, but once they’re inside the cab he starts talking about the stock market and other bits of information he picked up in the Wall Street Journal, much to Eduardo’s surprise.

　　“What’s gotten into you” Eduardo demands.

　　Mark just looks at him and fights off the impulsive urge to shrug.

　　It’s a good thing Eduardo lives in a big city like New York, where food from every ethnicity imaginable can be found. As soon as they arrive at the restaurant, a waiter shows them to a quiet table at the back and provides them with menus and glasses of water. Mark can’t remember the last time he ate dinner one-on-one with another person, unless he counts all the times he’s attended dinner parties and various people pulled him aside to spout praise and admiration and other bullshit at him.

　　After sitting in an uncomfortable silence, in which he pretends to carefully examine his menu, Mark looks at Eduardo. “So. You haven’t run away with plans of changing your name and skipping the country, so I think I can safely assume that this isn’t a complete disaster so far.”

　　“Did you— did you plan all of this” Eduardo asks, still rather dumbfounded. “I mean, talking about the stock market, and Brazilian food, and you’re actually dressed halfway decently, and— Shit. Mark, is this a date”

　　“Personally I think that labels can be diminishing,” says Mark. “But if you want to label this as a date, then yes, it is a date.”

　　“Shit,” Eduardo says again.

　　“Obviously I didn’t want to tell you at the onset because I knew you would run away for sure.”

　　“This is unbelievable.”

　　“Do you mean that positively or negatively”

　　“I don’t know what I mean,” says Eduardo, massaging his temple like he’s got a massive headache. “I don’t know what I want. You see I told you that seeing you again would be unhealthy.”

　　Considering the fact that Eduardo still hasn’t run out into the street to catch the nearest taxi, Mark thinks the evening is passing quite well. “It’s only unhealthy because you’ve wrapped yourself up in layers upon layers of denial, which is only a defense mechanism.”

　　“I’m not in denial,” Eduardo begins, but he doesn’t get a chance to argue further, because the waiter returns and asks them if they’re ready to order.

　　Eduardo orders something complicated off the menu in flawless Portuguese, while Mark chooses a simple dish hoping that he doesn’t mangle the name too horribly. As soon as the waiter strides off to the kitchens, the two of them are left sitting awkwardly across from each other with nothing but glasses of water to occupy themselves with. Mark proceeds to take a long, long drink from his glass to avoid having to say anything.

　　“Why did you do this” Eduardo asks, breaking the silence. “Why did you bother”

　　Mark looks up from his water to meet Eduardo’s eyes and tries not to think of the deposition table. “Do I really need to state it in words”

　　“You’re incapable of expressing anything through emotions and you’re impossible to read, so yes, I would prefer it in words.”

　　Mark continues to stare at him.

　　“All right, all right,” says Eduardo, sighing. “You think you love me.”

　　“Correct, minus the thinking part.”

　　“Mark, come on. You’ve obviously deluded yourself. You don’t even know what love is, aside from your superficial love of Facebook.”

　　It’s true, Mark really has no understanding of love past the basic mechanics of it, but it doesn’t mean that he’s incapable of it because he’s human, after all, just like anyone else. And yes, Mark isn’t one hundred percent certain of what he feels for Eduardo, but he does know that there’s a strange void in his life when Eduardo isn’t there, like the feeling he gets when he finishes creating a new feature for Facebook and doesn’t know what to do with himself afterwards.

　　When the waiter arrives yet again and brings them their meals, Mark falls into silence once more and is grateful to have food as a distraction. He and Eduardo barely speak to each other for the next fifteen minutes and when it’s time to pay the bill, Eduardo insists on paying for his own meal. Mark lets him have his own way because he’s sick and tired of arguing.

　　“So what now” Eduardo asks as they step outside the restaurant together.

　　Mark has no idea what time it is due to the time zone difference, but he assumes it’s getting late.

　　“I’ll get you a hotel room,” Eduardo says before Mark gets a chance to respond. “You’re probably tired.”

　　“Don’t worry about it,” says Mark. “I’ll take care of that myself.”

　　“No, I really ought to—”

　　“Wardo. Eduardo. I could buy the entire hotel if I wanted to, along with all the furniture and the service of every person who works there.” Mark pauses, seeing the look on Eduardo’s face. “But I guess you know the area much better than I do. I prefer a hotel that has Wi-Fi, of course.”

　　“Of course,” says Eduardo. He hails a cab and they head back to his place in silence.

　　*

　　An hour later Mark finds himself seated on a bed in a comfortable hotel room, his computer perched upon his lap. He has twenty new e-mails, only half of them from people he’s met personally, and he manages to answer a few of them before growing bored. When he got on the plane to New York he hadn’t considered the amount of work that would pile up and wonders if he could bribe Dustin to do some of it for him.

　　He supposes that missing out on phone calls and meetings was worth it though. He and Eduardo didn’t have any major arguments for once.

　　Despite the fact that he’s exhausted and can barely keep his eyes open any longer, Mark can’t go on without checking his Facebook, the only thing that really fuels him. Ironically, Facebook is the reason he lost Eduardo in the first place, but it doesn’t change the fact that this website is—

　　Mark sighs when his homepage finishes loading.

　　Mark Zuckerberg is in a relationship with Eduardo Saverin.

　　“Damn it, Dustin,” says Mark. He deletes this obviously fake status update, horrified that numerous people have liked this one as well. Forget the bribery. Dustin will do mass amounts of extra work as punishment.

　　Mark types up a replacement status at lightning speed.

　　Mark Zuckerberg is not in a relationship with Eduardo Saverin and never was. Quit hacking me, Dustin.

　　Five minutes later, Dustin leaves a comment. Don’t blame me for my hacking skills. I learned from the best.

　　Stay out of my personal affairs, Mark comments back.

　　Yeah, I BET it’s an affair lol, Dustin writes. Why else would you go to New York

　　Mark logs out of Facebook and sits staring at his desktop for at least ten minutes. Okay, he has to admit that Dustin is right yet again, and he supposes it wouldn’t be so bad to be in a “relationship” with Eduardo, even though all of his previous relationships were failures.

　　The hardest part will be getting Eduardo to agree to such a thing.

　　*

　　Mark doesn’t get much sleep during the night and shows up at Eduardo’s late the next morning. Eduardo answers the door wearing the same type of semi-formal attire that he always wears, even though it’s only nine-thirty in the morning, which convinces Mark that Eduardo must go to bed dressed like that. The two of them stand in the doorway blinking awkwardly at each other until Eduardo clears his throat.

　　“Don’t you have responsibilities back at Facebook” he asks.

　　Mark gave up on dressing by Eduardo’s standards and sticks his hand in the pocket of the hoodie he’s now wearing. He finds it hard to look at Eduardo. “They’re not important.”

　　“I thought Facebook was everything to you.”

　　“It is.”

　　“And yet you shirked your responsibilities and came all the way out here.”

　　“Correct,” Mark admits.

　　Eduardo gazes at him for a long moment, as if trying to break into his mind and find what’s hidden there, then takes a pace backwards and holds the door open a little wider. “You might as well come in. It’s not exactly warm outside, though I guess you wouldn’t mind.”

　　Mark remembers those days at Harvard when he wore shorts and flip-flops in the middle of winter, and he fights the urge to smile. Eduardo shows him into the living room and he ends up sitting on the same exact chair he had occupied the last time he came out to see Eduardo, while Eduardo takes a seat on the same exact sofa. The last time Mark sat in this chair, he was seeking an explanation for the note that’s currently in his drawer at home, and once again he wonders how a scrap of paper could have caused all of this.

　　“So,” says Eduardo, leaning forward slightly. “Apparently there’s no getting rid of you. I thought that Facebook of all things would have held you down, but I guess I was wrong.”

　　“Okay, well maybe… maybe you’re just as important as Facebook,” Mark mutters, more to himself than to Eduardo.

　　“You should have realized that sooner,” says Eduardo.

　　“All right, thanks. I already know that I made some bad decisions, so there’s no use in reminding me every time we talk.”

　　“Well obviouslyyou need reminding, because you continue to make crazy decisions, Mark. You’re lucky I haven’t obtained a restraining order or contacted my lawyers about this.”

　　“Why didn’t you” Mark demands. “You could have easily turned me away last night and urged me to go back to the airport, or you could have phoned your lawyers and just like that, I would be out of your life forever. I was under the impression that you never wanted to see me or speak to me again,yet you allowed yourself to have dinner with me last night, so that makes you rather hypocritical.”

　　Eduardo is clearly at a loss for words and a variety of facial expressions crosses his face before he speaks again. “I don’t know. I… I guess I had a relapse. I tried to push everything away and I was doing a pretty good job, but then it all came back and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

　　“You could forgive me,” Mark says quietly.

　　“Mark, do we really have to go over this again We’ve been through it a million times.”

　　“No, I really think we should talk about it.”

　　“Enlighten me then.”

　　Yet again Mark is reminded of those long hours spent in the deposition room, getting interrogated by lawyers and being forced to relive the past, only this time he’s free to say whatever he wants. “I really hated that dayyou came in and smashed my laptop, and then told me you were going to sue,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed firmly upon the coffee table. “I normally don’t hate anything, so I didn’t even know it was possible for me to dislike something so much, but that day was just— it was the worst. I wanted to go to bed and never come out afterwards. And I… I’m sorry. For everything.”

　　“That was the worst day of my life,” says Eduardo. “If I could just erase that day from my memory forever, I would do it.”

　　Mark can’t remember the last time he felt so uncomfortable. He longs to turn invisible or climb out the window,yet at the same time he wants to sit there with Eduardo and never leave. “All right,” he says, pulling his eyes from the coffee table. “In conclusion, I’m an asshole and we both know it. End of story, I assume.”

　　“I think you should go home,” says Eduardo.

　　Mark nods in agreement. “Right. That’s probably a good idea.”

　　“But I’ll call you, all right” Eduardo looks at Mark without a trace of coldness in his eyes, showing none of the stubbornness and apprehension he had displayed in all of their previous encounters. “And maybe, uh, maybe we can get together again sometime. But not until I have time to think things over.”

　　“Right,” Mark says again, and some of that familiar sickness creeps into his chest again, but it doesn’t feel like sickness anymore.

　　*

　　A week later Mark sits at his desk at the office and tries to forget the details of the meeting he just sat through, which was as dull and predictable as usual. Instead he focuses on the phone call he received from Eduardo an hour ago, the very first call he’s received since the two of them parted ways in New York. It wasn’t a particularly lengthy conversation or even a particularly intelligent one, since Mark ended up stuttering a few times, but at least they didn’t talk in circles or dig up unpleasant experiences from the past.

　　Actually, it went rather well in Mark’s opinion. Eduardo agreed to fly out for a couple of days and maybe have dinner with him again, depending on his mood, and maybe have a few more uncomfortable conversations involving feelings and other matters that Mark usually doesn’t think about, but it shouldn’t be too bad. He’s willing to do anything to fill up the Eduardo-shaped void in his life.

　　Somewhere in a drawer beside his bed there’s a crumpled note that says I loved you,you idiot, but Mark plans to throw it out as soon as he gets home. He has a feeling he isn’t going to need it anymore.