A/N: Don't own, never will. Belongs to the amazing man who wrote it. RIP
Roger sighed and leaned back, brushing his golden brown hair back away from his eyes. Another day wasted and still no song. He was going to die, and he had nothing to leave behind for people to remember him by. Just depressing thoughts and awful memories. He was stunned that Mark and Collins hadn't left him yet out of sheer hatred. He deserved to be hated, he was nothing. Is nothing. He will die a nothing, a nobody.
But he always had someone there with him along the way, crazy but true. He fought with this person tooth and nail to keep her away, but she was so god damn stubborn, she fought right back. She was there with Mark to help with his withdrawel. She was there when April died. She was the one that held Roger's hand at her funeral. She was the one that smiled at Roger first thing in the morning, coffee in hand, and the last one to smile at him before he went to bed. She always seemed to be happy with her life, no matter how much it was an awful one. Sure, she got mad. She scared the crap out of everyone when she got mad. Roger had never seen her shed a single tear, not when April died, not when they almost got kicked out, and not when her parents abandoned her for being a lowlife bohemian. She was idiotically strong, covering any emotion with a smile and turn of the head. She frusterated Roger to no end. Everytime she was in the room she managed to tick Roger off. He had to dig his nails in to his palms to fight off the want to snap at her. But it wasn't hatred. Roger didn't think anyone could hate her, let alone himself. She was...well...she was Katey.
Roger laughed and forced open the door, eyes opened to wide, pupils too dilated. April cackled again, hanging off his arm, red hair flowing, lip stick smudged. She had managed to find some new drugs that took them higher than ever before. It worked.
"Roger?"
Roger chuckled again, and stumbled around, meeting the disaproving gaze of his best friend. Mark never liked Roger using. He hated April for getting the drugs for them. He knew that they would get sick one day if they weren't careful. But who was careful when they were floating as high as they were?
"Roger, we got a new roommate"
Mark tentatively called, steering clear of the cackling duo. They scared him when they were like this. Their normal selves were easier to predict, but when they were like this, they could do anything. It sure helped when they got into the bedroom, that's for damn sure. The whole apartment heard the proof.
"Roger, this is Katey Yile. She's going to be staying with us. She's a very old friend from Scarsdale, we used to go to school together before she moved to Santa Fe."
Roger wasn't listening, to distracted by the blinding lights and April's lips on his neck.
"Sure, sure, whatever" he mumbled.
Mark shook his head, blue eyes shining with embarresment. His two best friends meeting was what he always wanted, but he wanted Roger to be himself.
"Mark, don't worry, alright? Not the first time I've seen people that are so far gone they're in Australia"
Mark grinned slightly, and nodded. Funnily enough, Katey always seemed to know what to say in an awkward situation. Roger and April sautered away into their room, and soon it became a live screening of the discovery channel. Mark groaned and closed his eyes. Everything was so wrong with this moment.
"Wow, this room has amazing acoustics" Katey blandly observed, looking up at the ceiling.
Even Roger and April heard the laughter from their room. The awkwardness of the situation made Mark and Katey double over on the couch, faces going red.
Roger didn't remember anything the next morning, and so missed his first meeting with the infamous Katey Yile. But he definately remembered the next one.
"Ugh, holy crap Mark. My brain feels lkie it's been put in a blender" Roger groaned, stumbling into the room, clutching his bleach blonde head. He turned at the sound of a snicker.
There, seated at the bench in the dank, near empty kitchen, was a girl. Damn. She had long, strawberry-blonde hair that fell to the middle of her shoulders. She had bright blue eyes, slight freckles on her nose and full, pink lips curved in a smile. Her lithe, too thin body was so pale you wouldn't know she had been living in Santa Fe for years. Mark had a knack for picking out girls as albino as him. Apart from Maureen, of course.
"You're not Mark" Roger muttered, still staring, eyes bleary.
The girl chuckled again, standing up and walking over to give Roger a coffee, clad in only short shorts and a low cut singlet. Roger averted his gaze and he gingerly pulled the mug from the girl's soft hands.
"Do you remember me?"
Roger blushed, and slowly shook his head, looking into the depths of the coffee she had made him. She didn't remind him of one of his one night stands before April...but she was hot enough.
"Figured not. I'm Katey, Katey Yile. Mark's old friend from Scarsdale. He's told me a lot about you..." Katey's face darkened. Roger guessed Mark had filled her in on his using.
"When are you leaving?" Roger snapped. She was judging him. But he was fine. He had a girlfriend that he loved, he felt as high as a kite half the time, and was extrememly happy. Roger bet his whole fortune, however small and fleeting, that Katey wasn't.
"Better get used to having me here, Davis, I'll be your new roommate" Katey grinned, voice annoyingly cheery. She was testing him.
"You sleep with Mark or something, to make him agree to let you live here" Roger sneered.
"Now, now, I have much better ways than that. It's called asking for help, heard of it?"
"Well, don't get used to living here, if I have any say, you'll be gone by noon"
"Oh, don't worry, I'll still be here. We'll get used to each other, might even become friends, ya never know" Katey winked jokingly, walking away, hips swinging slightly. Roger very much that he'd be friends with this sultry blond.
Funny thing was, though. She was right.
Muesetta's Waltz filled the comfortable silence of the loft. Mark sat with his nose stuck in a book, Katey's head in his lap, Collins sat on the floor near her feet, Maureen and April were sulking in their room, Benny was out with some random chick, and Roger sat in the arm chair next to them, strumming. The friends had found their peace with each other, well, sort of. Katey had turned out to be not as bad as Roger had first thought. She had a bright smile, and easy laugh and a great sense of humour. She loved Roger's voice and listened intently whenever he pulled out his guitar. He had found a great confidante and kidred spirit in music and personality. There were a few flaws that prevented the two from spending too much time together. Roger hated Katey's know-it-all ways, hated her sly smirk that taunted him and made him feel inferior. He hated the way her and Mark could talk about absolutely nothing for hours. Hated that April and Katey never got along. Hated that he could relate to her on so many levels, especially on the fact that they both hated Maureen and the way she treated Mark. But it was these flaws that made Katey so fascinatingly endearing to Roger. How could someone so different and irritating to him, be so much fun to be around? He asked himself that everyday.
Katey hated Roger's drug use, hated his laid back attitude to serious situations, hated his quick temper, hated him when he was high, hated him the morning after. She hated his empty promises and pathetic excuses. But she didn't hate him, not really. She mostly hated that he looked exhausted all the time, hated that he looked sicky and pale. She loathed April to an extent that she almost slapped her before Mark intervened. April got the drugs, pushed Roger into them when he said he's stop, forced him to go out to some god forsaken hour in the morning even when he was so tired he could collapse.
Most of all, she hated that she gave the couple HIV.
She hated that April left Roger to deal with it all alone.
Roger whimpered again, feeling the shivers wrack through him. It had been three months since he had found April in the bath, water red with blood and wrists slashed. He had collapsed next to the body, calling for her to come back to him, even though he knew that she was gone for good. That was how Katey found him. Kneeling next to the still, pale corpse of his beloved girlfriend. She was the first to yell for help, for Collins, Benny or Mark to please, god, get help. She was the first to fall to her knees next to Roger, checking for a pulse on April's neck. Roger had felt annoyance rise up in at that. Katey never liked April, why the hell should she start now? She had been the first to clutch Roger's shoulder, whispering comforts into his ear. She had been the first he had pushed away. Yelling at her, accusing this frail blond for caring when she had never cared about him before. He had backed away into a corner, tears streaming down his face. She had been the first to follow him, hands held out as if to fend off another push, the spark gone from her electric blue eyes. Seeing that had broken Roger, and he threw himself into her capable hands, which cradle his head as he sobbed into her chest, running her fingers through his short cropped hair.
Roger whimpered again, not caring about the fact that he sounded like a dying puppy. He needed a hit, it had been too long. The need, the want was coursing through him like it was in his DNA. Calling to him, making shudders run up his spine, sweat pour from every inch of skin and his stomach convulse.
"Roger?"
Roger cried out at the soud of the soft, warm voice, clutching on to it like a life line. Maybe it was. He needed her, needed someone with him. He didn't want to be alone.
"Oh, Roger. Shhh, it's okay, we'll get through this."
Roger felt the bed dip and the covers move. A warm body pressed against his back, shaking arms wrapping around his torso, comforting voice at his ear.
"Just one, please Katey, just one more, then I'll stop, I'll never do it again, I swear, please" Roger pleaded, sobs making his voice faint and cracking.
Katey's resolve almost faltered, he sounded so fragile, and so weak. But she had to stay strong, for him. He deserved it.
"I won't watch you die too, Rog. No more drugs, you promised April. You promised Mark, Collins, Benny. You promised me, rock star, you promised me."
Roger felt sobs wrench from his chest, making his lungs ache with effort. He clutched at Katey's hands, holding on to a solid existance.
"Don't leave me, Katey. Not like her. Don't give up."
Katey sighed and pressed her lips to Roger's temple, closing her eyes against tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't show weakness, she needed to be Roger's pillar of strength. Be what April couldn't handle becoming.
"I could never leave you, rock star. Go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up"
Katey was the first to smile at him when dawn broke.
Roger had been clean for 6 months. It had been a long and hard 6 months, and all through the loft the occupents felt the exhaustion. Roger had tried to express his apolagies, but everyone simply waved them off, saying that they were just happy that Roger was back to being more like himself. Collins had gotten a job at MIT, and was leaving in a few days, and Benny had already married Alison like he always wanted. Maureen was still hanging around, unfortunately to Roger and Katey. So the Bohemians had decided to have an impromptu drink, for the celebration of Roger's success and Collins' new job. The four had sent Katey to get the drinks.
Roger and Mark often recall what she was wearing that night, blaming that for everything. She was wearing ripped jeans and faded leather jacket. She looked too weak, too easy, too obvious that she had no money.
It had been three hours and still Katey hadn't returned from the corner liqor store. It was a block away. Everyone but Maureen was starting to get anxious, scared even. Katey was never late, she thought it rude. Roger shakily strummed his guitar, staring out the window for a glimpse of strawberry-blond and a cheery wave. None came. Collins sat with him while Mark waited by the door, pacing. Another hour passed.
"Guys, come
"Mo, it's been 4 freaking hours, where the hell is she?" Mark snapped, running a hand through his pale hair, clenching and unclenching it in his fist.
Uncanily, it was Roger who heard her first. Whimpering and cursing, he heard her slow footsteps toward the door, it sounded like she was limping. He raced towards the loft door, Collins on his heels. She had to be okay. He wrenched the door open and almost fell to his knees his shock and remorse.
Katey was on the ground, curling herself up into a ball, sobbing heavily. Roger's stomach had twisted into terrifed knots. It was the first time he had seen Katey cry. It would haunt him until the day he died. Roger crouched over Katey's body, screaming desperately for Maureen to call 911. Katey's blond hair was matted and dirty, like she had been lying in an alley. Her clothes were torn and stained. Her face was bruised heavily on the left side where she fell to the ground. Her lip was split, bleeding profousely, and her right eye turning purple. But what drew her roommates' attention had nothing to do with her face or clothes. Katey's jeans, which were already artfully ripped, were completely shredded. Blood was spattered on the shins and knees, but was just seeping out on the thighs. Roger cried out in agony at the sight of so much blood, and pulled Katey into his arms, whispering words of no importance to anyone. You'll be okay didn't work. She wouldn't be. No-one would be after what she had been through.
"Mark, Collins, Roger?" Katey whispered, digging her fingers into Roger's shoulders, eyelids fluttering over dull grey eyes.
All three men leaned forward, as if what she had to say was more important than life itself.
"I'll be okay, I'll be okay, I always am" Katey muttered breathily, eyes closing, breathing ragged. Mark yelled for help from downstairs, Collins snapped at Maureen to freaking do something, anything. Roger sat with Katey in his arms, her blood staining his clothes, tears running down his tanned face, rocking her back and forth. She had to be okay, for him. She had promised not to give up.
Katey groaned and sat up, massaging the lump on her head. It had been three months after the attack in the alley, and her bruises were fading and her scars less and less obvious. Her appointed psyciatrist said that she no longer needed to come and see him twice a week. She was fine, really. Katey sniffed, running a hand through her hair. No, she wasn't. It hurt to do anything, but she couldn't let anyone know that. They were already dealing with Roger's withdrawel, they didn't need another person to look after. She could take care of herself. Mark had his muse to find and film to make. Collins was at MIT making a living. Maureen was long gone, run off with a woman named Joanne. Bitch, she didn't deserve someone like Mark anyway. Roger was doing well, suprising everyone. He had even smiled at Katey this morning before he with Mark to film. The flips Katey's heart made when he did made everything she was going through worth it somehow.
"SPPPPEEEEAAAAKKK!"
Katey jumped, whipping around towards the source of the noise. She hadn't even heard the phone ring. Woah, her pain killers were stronger than she thought then.
"Hello, my name is Doctor Harry Jenkins. Look, I'm calling for Katey Yile? I took a blood sample after her attack and the results are back and...they're not good. Look, the man who attacked her was HIV positive. The tests came back positive. I'm so sorry. Call me back to organise a time to get your prescription for your AZT"
Katey's world came crashing down around her. Positive? No. No, she couldn't be. She couldn't get a fatal disease. She needed to stay alive, for Mark, for Roger. What would they say when they found out. Mark would be loosing another friend and Roger would get even more reclusive. Katey wiped the tears from her cheek and clenched her jaw. They couldn't know, and they wouldn't. She'd get the AZT, wouldn't let them see her take it. She'd be there for them as long as she could. Maybe in the end, they'd forgive her, see that it was for them that she wasn't telling them. Maybe.
"Hi, I'm calling about arranging an appointment to get the presciption for the AZT?"
That's how it started.
Katey was beginning to wonder if it could get worse.
Fate always had a knack of kicking you in the butt.