He was standing outside the church, smoking a cigarette, trying to calm his nerves. The tux was killing him. It was itchy and suffocating, something he would never consider wearing in his own free will. But today wasn't about free will, today wasn't even about him.

Today was about the woman he was going to marry. Today was about Mimi. She was getting ready with Maureen in the bride's room. She was beautiful wearing nothing but his t-shirt; she would be beautiful in a wedding dress too. She was the one to talk about weddings. She told him not long after they started dating that she wanted to get married before she died. She said that it was a big tradition in her family that every woman was supposed to marry.

So, he went through the trouble of picking out a really nice ring and proposed to her on Valentine's Day.

It was harder to propose to her than it was to go get tested for HIV. He knew that she'd say yes. He knew that she would have no problems spending the rest of their lives together. He knew that she loved him, and he was the luckiest man in the world for it. He knew all of that.

It was hard for him to propose to her, because he proposed to April. April said yes. April was going to be his wife.

He didn't tell Mimi that. He didn't want to scare her away. Mimi felt inferior to April. He had no idea why. Mimi was as pretty if not prettier than April. Mimi was his reason for getting up in the morning. Mimi was God's gift to Roger. He loved her in ways that he could never love April. April was always on his mind, never too far away to haunt him, but Mimi was always in his heart.

Roger was afraid of marriage. He seriously was, because he knew that he would just take something great and fuck it up. It was apart of being Roger, he could never avoid it. Whenever he was given something good or given a chance, he fucked it up. He didn't want to hurt Mimi, he loved her. Mimi was his heart. She was beautiful.

"Your Eyes" was for Mimi.

"One Song Glory" was the song that reminded him of April.

April killed herself two months before their wedding. She left a note for him, Maureen, and Mark. It was four pages long, he still had it. He read it everyday when he was going through withdrawal.

He could recite every word on the damn thing.

Mark,

I'm betting you're the one that finds me. Your always home earlier than you say you're going to be. I know that you're going to hate me for doing this to Roger and Maureen. You never really did like me. This isn't your fault Mark. It's mine. I've been hurting. I've been hurting so bad, and the medicine isn't working. I don't want to get back on smack. This is the only way out for me. This is it for me. I was never really meant for this place. I was never really meant for Roger. Take care of him for me. Don't let him get back on heroin; he really wants to get off of it. He's realizing what it's doing to him. He's smart. He always has been. Please take care of him. Don't let him think this is his fault. Hold him here for me. Don't let him do this to himself. You're strong Mark, you are truly a survivor, never forget that.

Maureen,

Girl, I know that you wanted to help. You want to make this better, but you can't. No amount of Mo can take this pain away. I'll be taking care of you, like your own guardian angel okay?

You'll understand better than the boys, why I did this. Try to help them understand. I paid you back, your money is in there on your dresser. I love you Maureen, take care of yourself okay. Find happiness, you deserve it.

Roger,

Oh baby, I've fought with this for years. I wanted to do this long before we found out about HIV. I love you baby. So fucking much. You'll never know how much I love you. I want you to move on, I want you to find someone who deserves you. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault. If anything you kept me alive longer. You were the best I'd ever had. You would have made a fantastic husband, you would have had beautiful babies, but I took all of that away from you, and God Roger I'm sorry. I'm so sorry baby. I love you.

I remember when I first met you. You were a Well Hungarian then. You were a rock God. You had the world in your hands. I wanted so much to be like you. I wanted to know what it was like to be you, so I divulged into your world. I met your friends, I partied with you. I made love to you. I was going to marry you, and I would if I didn't have this fucking disease.

Please survive this. Please don't be like me. Don't give up, find your glory. Write your song. Die a damn old man okay? I'm so sorry for the pain I caused you guys. Nothing I can say will make it better. Just know that I'm sorry okay?

I love you baby.

Her prediction had been right. Mark found her first. He called 911 and then he puked all over the place after seeing her like that. She was whiter than the sheet under her, and she was holding that note. She was dead. Mark had never seen a dead person before.

She'd overdosed; there wasn't a single pill in the house left unswallowed. Mark had to call Roger, and Maureen. Collins was all the way in Berkley, there was nothing he could do for them then, and Mark didn't want to worry him since he already had so much going on.

He remembered getting the news. Roger fell apart right where he was standing at the bar where his gig was. He didn't perform that night. He couldn't.

He rushed home, but by the time he'd gotten to the loft, they'd already taken April from the house and were taking Mark's statement. He saw some paramedics carrying a body bag down the stairs on a stretcher, but he didn't realize that it was April until just then. He dropped his guitar and collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. April had left him alone to deal with this God forsaken disease. And his withdrawal.

It was going to hurt; he knew it was going to hurt. He knew that he was going to hurt, but the thought of dying by his own hand was enough to want to be sober for good. He couldn't do that to Mark or Collins or whoever would find him and the vomit all over the place after seeing him so sickly pale.

That, and Mark's help was his saving grace.

Mark.

If Mark had ever had a child, he was it. If Roger had ever had a best friend, Mark was it. Mark worried about him. Mark took the abuse. Mark stayed up all night with him because he couldn't sleep. Mark had been the one to take care of him. Mark made sure that when he had been clean for longer than two weeks when he was ready to give up. Mark took the liberty of throwing out all the knives, the pills, the bug spray, everything, so he couldn't hurt himself when he wasn't thinking straight. Mark cared about him. Mark wanted the best for him.

Without Mark, there wouldn't be Roger.

"Hey Rog, you okay?"

He looked up, already knowing who he would see.

Mark.

"Yeah, just thinking." He said as he put the cigarette out on the concrete ground.

"Mimi looks great. Maureen did a great job."

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question? A serious one?"

"Sure. Yeah."

"Do you think that..I'm going to be a bad husband?"

God that sounded corny.

"Roger. Is this about April?"

"No. This is about me, man. Tell me the truth."

"I think that you will make a great husband. I think that you and Mimi will be really happy together, if you just give it a shot."

That was Mark for you. He could make everything sound better and great with just a few simple words. He wanted Mark to pitch his funeral, maybe he'd sound like a better person.

"Roger. Whatever happens, you'll be okay. I promise."

"Don't promise shit. Not unless you know you can keep it."

"I promise. For now, let's just go get you hitched okay?"

"Okay."

He put an arm around Mark's shoulder and walked into the church. Goofy bastard just made everything better, like always.

He took his rightful place by the priest, Mark and Collins behind him. They'd practiced this three times that week.

The music came on, and the amber doors opened to reveal Mimi with Joanne and Maureen behind her.

She was gorgeous. Her usually curly dark hair had been straightened to evenly frame her face and bring out her beautiful smile. The dress was a simple white one. It started as a halter top and ended below her knees, showing off her legs. Roger was so loving the way that dress framed her figure, which was much more curvy then when he had first came back since he had started feeding her himself to be sure she ate. Mark had better be filming this, cause he could watch her in the way she looked forever.

"Dearly Beloved. We are gathered here today."

Right, time to pay attention. Time to get married.