Disclaimer: I don't own, I rent. How cheesy. The title of this chapter is a The Spring Standards song.
Chapter 1: At Least AffectionMark couldn't stand it anymore.
If he had to see Mimi and Roger kiss in such a sickening way one more time, he was going to throw them both out of the loft, despite the fact that Roger paid half the rent.
He couldn't stand displays of affection anymore. It just reminded him that he was alone, that he didn't have anyone to display affection towards. And he hated it.
He had only tolerated it in the beginning of their relationship because he had been so happy for Roger. He had spent seven months watching Roger being miserable and at times suicidal, and it was only fair for Roger to have a little bit of happiness in his life. In fact, he had been glad for Mimi.
He only tolerated it now because he knew there was only a limited amount of time they could spend together while they were on this earth. He didn't like thinking about that, so he told himself that any minute he would kick them out on the street temporarily, be bitter and mean to them while they stayed blissfully in love, etc, but truthfully he knew that he'd never have the heart to do that. He never had the heart to interrupt them when they were together. Which was most of the time.
Just because he tolerated it didn't mean he had to enjoy it, though.
Roger and Mimi finally broke apart, looking at each other lovingly. Mark felt sickened. Roger laughed, catching sight of the expression on Mark's face.
"Marky can't take the heat?" he said teasingly, giving his best friend a look to show he was joking.
"Shut up." Mark said irritably and strode out of the room, camera in hand.
"Where are you going?" Roger called out to him as he opened the door to leave.
"To film." Was Mark's barely audible answer.
"What's up with him?" Mimi wondered out loud to Roger.
"I don't know, baby." Roger answered. "But there's something wrong with me and you right now."
"What?" Mimi said, worried.
"That we're not doing this." Roger leaned it to give Mimi another tender kiss on the lips. Mimi giggled in a very un- Mimi like fashion and the two of them resumed their make out session from earlier.
Thank God Mark wasn't in the loft anymore.
Out on the street, Mark filmed everything that came by aimlessly. He didn't really have an idea for a documentary at the moment, so he was just filming everything in hopes that a good idea would come to him.
Nothing came.
He filmed little girls playing with their parents in the park, their pretty braids and curls bouncing in the air as they jumped and ran. He filmed the hungry and the homeless- at the opposite end of the park. He filmed birds flying. He filmed vendors selling pretzels and coats and all sorts of other things. But none of it was a good idea for a documentary.
Mark didn't really want to be filming right now, he knew. He would rather be back inside the loft, eating. He was hungry. They probably didn't have any food, anyway. Mark wanted to be relaxing. He wasn't in the mood to film. But unfortunately, he didn't have anything else to do at the moment. His choice was to either watch Mimi and Roger and be jealous beyond words, and have to endure Roger's comments that he thought were a joke but actually hit way too hard on him, or he could film.
So he was filming.
There was another reason Mark envied Mimi and Roger other than the fact that they were in love. They knew that they'd never have to spend long without the other. If one of them died, then the other knew that they'd follow soon enough. So even in death, they would always be together.
Mark would never have anyone like that. He supposed that he should be grateful that he was healthy, that he wasn't dying by degrees the way that Mimi and Roger and Collins were, but he couldn't muster up any gratitude anymore. Because all that meant was that sooner or later, he'd be alone. Even more alone than he was now.
He wouldn't be able to talk to Collins on the phone and be reassured that his life still had some sense of purpose. He wouldn't be able to yell at Mimi and Roger to get a room. And that thought scared him more than anything else.
He was walking along the sidewalk, almost on the road, deep in thought, when he heard the honk of a car horn. He didn't have time to blink before he was knocked to the side by a small force. He lay on the ground for a second, wavering in and out of consciousness.
"Are you okay?" a female voice he didn't recognize asked.
He tried to answer, but his head felt heavy and his brain, he feared, was turning to mush.
"Mmmm." He mumbled.
"We'd better get you to a hospital." The voice said worriedly again, and Mark forced himself to open his eyes.
He was staring at a very pretty girl, with brown eyes and long, dark brown hair tied into some sort of knot in the back of her head. She felt his forehead, and Mark felt her smooth fingers.
"He doesn't feel warm." She informed someone who he couldn't see.
And then Mark blacked out.
A/N- I know it starts off a little clichéd, but it gets better, I promise. Reviews are my nectar of the Gods.