"You ready for the concert tomorrow?" Mark asked Roger. Roger nodded. "Brian finally found a good ending to the show. Are you going to tape this one?"
Mark shook his head. "I've got a date with Maureen. You know how unpredictable she is –"
"And how much of a pushover she makes you." Roger replied. Mark punched Roger square in the shoulder.
"Like you're much better with April. She's got you wrapped around her little finger. Besides, I think Maureen and I are beginning to get serious. But, as they say, the couple that does drugs together stays together."
Roger shot Mark a dirty look. "Give me the keys."
"Why?" Mark asked. "Because," Roger said, "you're being an asshole."
"Fine, if it'll make you feel better."
"Roger unlocked the door. "Hey April, we're home." Roger and Mark were met with only the echo of Roger's voice. Roger's eyes grew wide, and he ran up the black metal stairs, with Mark following closely behind.
Suddenly, Mark stopped in front of the doorway. He could only stand there as Roger cried.
"No, April! Why did you go? I love you," he said. Roger fell on the floor and sobbed.
Mark slowly walked into the apartment. He then noticed a sheet of notebook paper with April's handwriting on it. He smoothed the note and began to read.
Dear Roger,
We've got AIDS.
-April
Mark handed the note over to Roger. His already trembling hands shook even more as he read the few words April had scribbled down. His eyes moved back and forth between the note and April's lifeless body, her red hair soaked with her own blood.
"Oh shit!" Collins said as he walked in the room. "I'll call 911."
All Mark could do was stand there as his world crashed down around him.
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