Though we may have
our disputes,
This family tree's
got deep roots.
Friendship is
thicker than blood.
Mark and Roger first met the day Mark and Benny moved into the loft. Mark had just quit college halfway through sophomore year. Benny had needed "a year off," though he never went back. Benny found the ad in the paper. Mark packed all his things and left Brown. The only notice he gave to his parents was a postcard with his new address.
The first day in the loft was the most awkward. Mark wasn't used to being around angry guitarists, and Roger wasn't used to being around nervous kids from semi-rich families.
"So where'd you say you're from?" Roger asked tentatively as he strummed a few notes on his guitar, cigarette hanging out of his mouth dangerously.
"My family lives in Scarsdale, but I don't think I ever want to go back there," Mark answered meekly.
"Don't like home?" Roger's fingers found a G-chord.
"Well yeah, but it's mostly my family I don't like."
Roger smirked. "I know what that's like."
That was their first bond. Roger came from an abusive family, and Mark came from a neglectful family. In each other they found a brother, a kindred spirit with whom they could share anything and everything.
Six months later April came. With her she brought the heroin and the lies and the anger. In the minds of Collins, Benny and Maureen, April took away Roger's ambitions. Through Mark's eyes, April took away Roger's soul.
For two months Roger spent next to no time with Mark. He used every waking second with April, either getting high or trying to find money to buy heroin.
Those two months were Mark's withdrawal.
He had Maureen, Benny and Collins constantly around him, but Mark only needed one person's attention. And unfortunately for him, that person was usually semi-unconscious in his room with April.
Mark almost made it through the whole two months without anger, but the mounting tension became too much a week before the end.
Roger pulled on his jacket, stuffed a new-found twenty in his pocket and headed for the door. Before he could make it, Mark got in the way.
"What the fuck are you doing, Cohen?" Roger was quick to anger when something stood between him and a hit.
That one word was what hurt Mark the most: Cohen. It was a name given to him by a family he hated, and Roger knew that. But not only that, it wasn't a word used to address a brother, or even a friend. It was a word used to address a stranger.
Over half a year of friendship reduced to nothing. They had become strangers.
Mark shoved Roger back a few steps. "What the fuck are you doing, Roger?" he shouted. "What are you doing with April and those drugs? What are you doing with your life?"
Mark was never as strong as Roger, and Roger easily pushed him aside and exited the loft.
A week passed without the two even seeing each other. Mark stayed in his room with his camera, only coming out when everyone was gone or asleep.
Sunday morning came, and Mark woke to Roger's howling. The sound was terrifying, almost inhuman, worse than a wounded animal. Mark ran to the bathroom to find Roger, kneeling in a river of blood that once flowed inside April's veins. On the mirror she had written a message in bright red lipstick. We've got AIDS.
April had come into their lives two months before, bringing drugs and destruction. Now she left them with only her lifeless body and three words on a mirror.
Mark pulled Roger to his feet and half-dragged him into his own room. He laid them both down onto the bed and did his best to comfort Roger, whispering soothing words and rubbing circles into his back. Only when Roger was asleep did Mark get up to call the police and clean up the mess.
Roger stayed inside the loft for a year; occasionally it was against his will. Sometimes the symptoms of withdrawal became too much, and Roger had fought Mark to let him get one hit. Mark always won the fights. He was fighting for his best friend, someone he loved; Roger was only fighting for something he thought he needed. Love always wins.
Despite Mark's hopes, the words on the mirror had been true; Roger had HIV. April had found another way to break them apart—through blood.
Yet somehow that new barrier helped to bring them closer together. Mark was there to offer help and support through withdrawal, and Roger was willing to accept it. They became inseparable.
Mark and Roger were best friends, soul mates, brothers in everything but blood. But in the end, friendship is thicker than blood.