Disclaimer: If I was going to try to steal Mr. Larson's work, I would have at least changed the names…
No one was really surprised when it happened. After she nearly died a month ago, we all knew that it was a matter of time before it happened again, this time for real. Having this knowledge, however, didn't make it any easier for us, least of all for Roger.
He was devastated, and even today, a week after the funeral he is still inconsolable. His crying is done, he cried all of it out already. Mimi died, and there was nothing any of us can do about it. Now all he does is lock himself in his room and not let anyone in. I've tried many times to get him up and about, but all he does is tell me to fuck off. It's just like it was when April died, only 10 times worse. When April died, he was depressed. Now, he seems to have abandoned most of his misery and replaced it with anger. He's angry at the world, angry at God, at anyone he can be. Honestly, I can't blame him. If I lost two girlfriends whom I loved within a few years, I'd be pretty pissed also. I just hope he gets better soon.
What the hell happened to Roger? Just two weeks ago he stayed in his room, not talking to anyone. Now he goes out every night, he cut his hair very short again and I believe he's even started wearing eye liner.
It's so weird, it's exactly the way he dressed himself up before April died. I don't know what he's trying to pull, honestly it worries me.
Looking at him, however, I can see why his band had screaming groupies way back when. His pretty good looking like this, reminds me of how he was when we first met.
Things keep getting stranger and stranger. I remember back when April died Roger isolated himself from everyone, and contact with females wasn't even thought of until Mimi came around. Now, he goes out every night, picking up random girls and bringing them back to the loft.
One memorable night, I can recall clearly Roger and some blonde completely piss drunk. They were so drunk that they stumbled into my room by accident. They were still making out when they walked into the room. When Roger realized they were in the wrong room, he gave me this strange smile.
"Oh, hey Marky boy...sorry 'bout that..." He said, his words rather slurred from all the alcohol. And with that, he took them back to his room. They made so much noise that night I couldn't fall back to sleep. Apparently Roger is good in bed, I just wished I could have found that out in a way that didn't cost sleep.
I'm glad that Roger seems to be dealing with the loss, but sometimes I wish I had my old Roger back.
I'm getting kind of worried now. It's been two weeks, and Roger hasn't come back to the loft yet. Hell, he hasn't even called to check in and tell me what's going on.
Shit. I hope what I said to him didn't drive him away for good. I guess I should admit that I yelled at him.
He walked into the loft at his now usual time of two in the morning, this time with two females with him. I recognized them, they were dancers at the Cat Scratch Club. They were the three of them drunker then hell, and they made enough noise to wake me out of a dead sleep. That's why I walked into the kitchen to see what was going on.
Strangely enough, though, I wasn't even angry when I first woke up. I didn't walk in there intending to let them have it, I'd gone in to say hi to Roger. But then I saw him with those two sluts and my temper started to rise, I got so pissed off I can't explain it. That's when I started to yell.
"So, you three gonna be fucking keeping me up all night?" I said.
Roger looked rather confused, obviously not getting why I was angry. "What are you talking about, Marky boy?" He said in a drunken slur.
One of the girls looked me over, then said, "Y'know, you're friend can join us if he wants..."
For a second that actually seemed like a good idea, for one insane second, but then my temper rose again and I found myself yelling.
"Fuck no! Not with you sluts. Jesus Roger, you can do so much better, you don't need tramps like this, you're better than that." I yelled, looking at a dumbfounded Roger. The fact that he didn't get it made me even madder. I instead took out my frustrations on the girls.
"And you" I yelled, pointing at the two girls. "You think I would ever do anything with you? You're probably filthy." I said, still yelling. Then I blurted out before I could stop myself. "God knows I'd end up catching something. You'd probably give me HIV or something." I gasped, realizing what I had just said. I looked over at Roger.
Roger looked like he was ready to hit me. I could see the hurt mingled with his anger. I almost thought I saw tears well up in his eyes, but I must've imagined that because in a flash they were gone. When he spoke, there was plenty of anger, but none of the hurt.
"Come on babes..." He said coldly, looking at the girls, who seemed to be horrified to be in the middle of this. "Let's get the hell outa here." He turned to walk out of the loft. I tried to say something to him, but he cut me off.
"Fuck off asshole." He said in a voice that filled the room, although not very loud. He walked out of the door and I haven't seen him since.