A/N: This fic was based on the 1994 workshop song called He Says. So yeah. Enjoy!

I groan as his fist makes contact with my stomach, but as I turn to the rest of my friends, who are standing there with shocked faces, I try to steady myself and remain calm. Collins looks like he wants to kick Roger's ass all the way to the West Coast, so I turn to him and nod that I'm ok. He relaxes. I look at my other friends as Roger walks toward the left corner of the room. I give him one final look, then turn back to Angel and Collins.

"He says he'll see us at the restaurant," I say, feeling partially defeated. I wish Roger would go out more, but this is could be a start at least. "He says he wants to stay and play his guitar." That's all he ever does anymore. He keeps trying to write that one last song. That one last song for April, even though she's gone. He won't go out and live the rest of the life he has because of it. I know she would want him to live his life rather than waste away. "He says he wants to be obsessed with art…like me." I pause. Roger has no idea what being obsessed with art means. He isn't obsessed with art; he's obsessed with April. "He says…he wants to re-develop the creative side of his brain!" Just like he always does when he doesn't want to do something. He blames the "damn inspiration" for not giving him peace of mind. "He says he doesn't need support group," but I know he most certainly does. I give him a pointed look. He needs it more than anyone else I know does.

As I look in his direction, Roger's face twists into a sneer. He delivers another kind of punch at me. "I say he'll bring his camera!" he says. I respond.

"He says…he doesn't know why I go when I'm not sick or queer," I say, turning to Angel and Collins. Angel is looking at me in a concerned fashion. Roger has no idea about what I've been through for him, because of him. I quickly clench my emotions as he delivers a third hit.

"Footage to make a career!" He says. This time I respond just as hard.

"He says he doesn't think that love is possible anymore!" That should slow him down for a while. I look over at him and the sneer is gone. He looks at me wide eyes holding a hidden sense of betrayal. It was a low blow and I know it. I don't care. This is one of the times I think he deserves it, deserves to hear the truth.

"It's not," he whispers, stung.

Collins starts to head towards me, and Angel starts to head towards Roger. Roger and I both look back towards each other and say, "One day I'll fix that car she left and fly!" We stare at each other for a brief moment. We were on the same wavelength.

Then I start to head towards the door, deciding to leave Roger there to waste away another chance. I look over at Collins and he beckons Angel over, seeing where this is going. As we leave, I turn to Collins and point back at Roger.

"I don't believe a word…I don't believe a word…I don't believe a word he says!" And I really don't. As we leave, I hear the faint sound of Roger's voice and his guitar.

"Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow…from this…night…"

And he stops.

A/N: Well, that was something new for me. There was quite a bit more angst than normal, and a new point of view. I don't normal write from the character's perspective. Well, R&R s'il vous plaît! Hope you liked it!