Disclaimer: Characters belong to the late, great Jonathon Larson.
Authors Note: I got this idea a while ago just never wrote it down. This is the result of boredom in Chemistry class. My second fic. It never mentions Marks Birthday so I made it in the fall. Thanks much to Christine for the Beta!!
Confessions
"Pan across the empty loft landing on me, Mark Cohen. Hey guys. I figured even though this is my last I should start it like any other of my films. That's right, my last. I know I told you I would never give up on my filmmaking, not until the day I die. Surprise. I have a confession. I never told anyone about that day and I never did it again but like they say, sometimes it takes just once. Now that I've gotten you all royally confused, I'll just tell you. When Angel died, she was the only person close to me I had ever lost to death. I couldn't handle it but being the "one to survive" and knowing I had my family with me, I thought I would be okay. Of course when my best friend left me for Santa Fe, my two lesbian friends were too busy and my peacemaker was somewhere in the city. I needed to get away.
I needed to forget everything so I turned to the only thing I knew would do that. I needed an escape. I knew what it had done to Roger and April but at that point I didn't care. I knew about Rogers struggle to get off of it and how moody he was when he was coming down from a high. But I also knew how carefree and not caring he was while on the high. How happy him and April seemed. I wanted, needed, to be that carefree at that time. I wasn't thinking about anything except getting away from my hurt.
I grabbed some of my "new camera" fund, which only consisted of $20 anyway, and headed out on a mission. Sad, I knew exactly where. Even sadder was the fact that "the man" recognized me as Rogers friend. He knew it was my first time so he gave me a discount and even provided a needle. God, I was so stupid. I came back to the loft and locked the door behind me, still don't know why because no one came around anymore anyway, not during that time. "Mark will be fine, no need to worry about him." I'll tell you it was hard, between my fear of needles and fear of drugs, wow it was hard. And then Roger called. You asked me if I had seen Mimi and if she was okay. You asked if she was still seeing Benny and then you hung up. I honestly think that if you simply asked "How bout you Mark, how are you doing" or even an "I miss you" and I would have chickened out but you didn't so on I went. I taped the whole thing. That had to be expected because it's me. Mark the filmmaker. The tape is marked Marks 25th Birthday. Great day for me to throw my life away, huh? I also knew that you would never watch a film of my birthday, hell neither would I.
It was amazing! I forgot everything and was just at peace with myself. When I started to come down from my high, wow those words sound so foreign coming from me, I felt like shit again only 10x worse. My life started flooding back to me the pain and the sorrow, but then I also had the aftermath of the drug in my body making it feel like it was shutting down. I don't understand how Roger, Mimi and April could have thrived off of that junk. So now you know. Poor, sweet innocent little Mark had a run-in with drugs. (Mark pauses and looks at the ground, composing himself to continue) Mimi has been on my back lately telling me I look sick. I figured it was just a cold because fall was coming. I kept telling myself that trying to make myself believe it but when I couldn't get rid of it I got worried. The other day when I was out filming I remember getting really dizzy and everything going black. When I woke up I was in the hospital. By that time I had a strong feeling what was wrong with me. I had been through it with Roger, Collins and April. The doctors wrote me a prescription, Okayed me to go home and shoved the bill at me. I did the only thing I could think of, I called Benny. He knows all this but I asked him not to tell you, that I wanted to tell you myself. Guess I'll never know if he did. (He takes a deep, almost painful breath) I have AIDS.
It only took that one time, that one needle. I knew better then to use an open needle but I think at the time I wasn't fully against the idea of death. Good thing about being a loser who never has a girlfriend or one night stands, you never have to worry about giving someone a STD. I couldn't believe how fast I caught on to the symptoms but I guess when you've seen them three times before you get the hang of it. I also know that we can barely afford for two things of AZT, we don't need a third hanging around.
Every film is supposed to have a reason behind it right? I know this has many. The confession of the drug use, the whole AIDS thing but, surprise, that's not the big reason. We have a family going in our group of friends and every family has that…annoying little brother. I am that brother. You know that one everyone lets hang around once in a while but ignores the rest. I know you all love me in your own special ways and I love you too, you have to know that but I can't put up this wall anymore. This film is my last will and testament. I don't know exactly how legal it is but that's where you come in, Joanne. Divide my very little belongings up among yourselves, except for my camera. You see my camera was my life, my career and my love. I was always hiding behind my camera, you said it yourself Rog, and now that I'm not there to hide anymore I want my "shield" gone. Destroy my camera. Hell, sell it for your AZT, I don't care just get rid of it. I want it gone with me, no more hiding. (Mark pulls out a needle, a small bag, and a piece of cloth torn into a long strip, pointing) The cause of death. The drug tried to kill me before but it failed in doing do quickly. Now, I'm giving it what it wants. Know that I love you all, especially you, Roger. I never meant to hurt you but you have hurt me to no end and this is all I can do to stop it. I wish things could be different. I wish I could laugh this off and we could all go along living our lives with a happy ending, but I cant and there is no happy ending in sight. Goodbye. (Mark carefully wraps the cloth around his arm and plunges the needle into it. He pushes the drug into himself) I always hated needles…
Tape marked Marks 26th Birthday.
Love it? Hate it? Think I should die? Lemme know!