10:30 PM – Mark's Cousin
A woman in her forties with curly hair and an easy smile sat down next to them.
"I'm Patricia, Mark's cousin. You're the ones from the bar, right?"
"That's right," said Ted.
"Mark talked to me a lot about the little guy." She pointed to Barney. "He said you were the funniest. That you were always plotting something, and even though it never worked out, you tried with admirable determination."
Barney blinked. "He said that?"
"Yeah. Once he told me you tried to pick up a waitress using a rehearsed speech, and she threw a beer on you. He said it was the most pathetic and beautiful thing he'd ever seen."
"Pathetic and beautiful," Barney repeated. "So that's my legend."
"He also talked to me about you." Patricia looked at Robin. "He said you were the strongest in the group. That you left your country to pursue your dreams, and that took a courage he deeply admired."
Robin swallowed hard.
"And about you three." She looked at Marshall, Lily, and Alyx. "He said you were proof that true love existed. That after everything you'd been through, staying together was a miracle."
Marshall squeezed Lily's hand.
Patricia stood up. "Well, I just wanted to say thank you. For existing, I guess. For giving Mark something to look forward to every Sunday." She smiled and walked away.
11:00 PM – Closing Time
The funeral home closed at eleven. But Marta, the widow, asked them to accompany her to MacLaren's.
"Carl is letting us use the bar for the informal wake," she explained. "Mark would have wanted us there."
They couldn't say no.
At MacLaren's, the atmosphere was completely different. People were laughing, telling stories, drinking. It was a celebration of Mark's life.
Carl was behind the bar, serving rounds.
"Guys," he said when he saw them come in. "Sit down. This is going to be a while."
"Carl," said Ted, "the Super Bowl..."
"I know. But look at these people. Mark was special to all of them. And you were special to Mark. The least you can do is stay a little longer."
A little longer.
That was at eleven.
At twelve, they were still there.
At one, also.
At two in the morning, when the last guest staggered home, the five were still at the bar, eyes swollen with exhaustion, souls full of stories about a man they never knew.
And then the stories began. Though of course, they had to move location to the usual bar—just with everyone from the funeral.
2:15 AM – Carl's Confession
Carl served them one last round.
"You know," he said, leaning on the bar, "Mark was my best customer. Not because he spent a lot, but because he was always there. Sunday afternoons, rain or shine, there he was in his seat with his dark beer. Watching."
"Why did he watch us?" asked Alyx.
"Because you reminded him of his youth. He told me once. He said, 'Carl, those kids—they're like Marta and I were forty years ago. Full of life, dreams, unnecessary drama. Watching them is like going back in time.'"
"He could have talked to us," said Ted.
"No, he couldn't. He was shy. And besides, he didn't want to spoil the magic. He said if he really knew you, you'd lose that fictional character glow. And he needed that fiction. It helped him cope with reality."
"What reality?" asked Lily.
"That he was sick. He'd been fighting cancer for two years. No one knew except Marta and me. He didn't want people to treat him differently. He just wanted... to sit and watch life go by."
The silence was absolute.
"And we were part of that life," said Marshall.
"The best part, according to him."
Alyx opened her sketchbook and looked at the drawing Marta had returned to her. The man on the stool, with his beer and his smile.
"What was his name?" she asked.
"Mark Thompson."
"Mark Thompson," she repeated. "Now I know."
2:47 AM – The Return Home
They left MacLaren's when Carl finally closed. The street was deserted, covered in fresh snow.
No one spoke for a long time.
Finally, Barney broke the silence.
"The Super Bowl."
Everyone looked at him.
"We missed it. It's almost three in the morning. The game ended hours ago."
"I know," said Ted.
"And we... we're here on the street after spending eight hours at a funeral and wake for a man we didn't know."
"Yes."
"And I don't know about you, but I... I don't regret it."
The others looked at him in surprise.
"What?" said Barney. "The guy watched us for years. Kept a drawing of Alyx. Made us his favorite characters. And we didn't even know he existed. That's... damn, that's something. I don't know what, but it's something."
"It's human," said Alyx.
"That. It's human." Barney sighed. "And also, I lost fifty thousand dollars. Or maybe I won an incalculable sum. I still don't know."
"Fifty thousand dollars," repeated Robin. "You're a lost cause."
"I know. But I function."
Lily approached Alyx and put an arm around her shoulder. "You okay?"
Alyx looked at the drawing one more time. "A man I never met kept a drawing of mine for months because it reminded him that life was beautiful. Yeah, I think I'm okay."
Marshall wrapped his arms around both of them. "Let's go home. Tomorrow... well, today, we watch the Super Bowl."
"At three in the morning?" asked Robin.
"No, this afternoon, like we planned. But first... sleep."
Living Room, 2030
"And so, kids, that night we didn't watch the Super Bowl. Nor in the early morning. We went to sleep at three, exhausted, full of stories about a stranger who turned out not to be so strange."
"So did you watch it in the end?" asks Penny.
"We watched it. The next day, at five in the afternoon. All together, in the apartment I shared with Marshall and Lily. With beer, wings, bean dip. Exactly as we'd planned."
"And who won?" asks Luke.
Ted smiles, with that smile his children know so well.
"I don't remember. What I remember is that while we watched the game, Alyx drew something. A bald man with a mustache, sitting at a bar stool, a beer in his hand, a calm smile. She titled it 'The Observer' and hung it at MacLaren's, right next to Barney's painting."
"Is it still there?" asks Penny.
"Still there. And sometimes, when I go to the bar, I sit in his seat and order a dark beer in his honor."
Ted raises his imaginary glass.
"To Mark Thompson. The man who taught us that we're all the main character in someone's story, even if we don't know it."
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The funeral is over, but Mark will live forever at MacLaren's. Thank you for accompanying the gang on this emotional journey. Which character from this arc would you like to see return? Marta? Cousin Richard? Carl telling more stories?
I'm waiting for you in the comments. Follow me for more chapters and support with power stones. The stones keep Mark's memory alive!
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