So, here's another update. I feel... inspired? So I'm gonna run with it. :D

As usual, I own nothing. It's all Jonathan Larson's, as marvelous as he was.

To days of inspiration...


I sighed when I closed the car door, only muffling my mother's scream of, "AND IF I FIND OUT YOU KISS ANOTHER BOY AGAIN, I SWEAR MARK COHEN..." By that point, I'd walked away, heading for the stairs at the front of the school.

Maureen bounded up behind me, giggling when she hugged me. "I heard your mom yelling, Marky. Guess even she knows about the school's new couple of the year."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "We're not a couple, Mo. We're just friends." I shook her off and kept walking, stopping at the bottom of the stairs where Roger sat on the stone siding.

The boy kept strumming, murmuring the words I said yesterday and adding on some of his own. I noticed my camera on top of his coat in front of him.

Smiling, I walked up and picked up my camera, looking at it to make sure I hadn't damaged it in any way.

He laughed. "Well, hello to you too."

I blushed, smiling. "Hey," I responded. "Sorry about that, I just... It's my camera, ya know?"

He smiled. "I know. It's like my guitar." He strummed the guitar again before pushing it to the side and making room for me to sit next to him.

I slid onto the wall facing him and crossed my legs in front of me before I started filming. "Well, since I lack footage from last night, let's start the day off with Roger playing in front of the school."

The musician shook his head, pushing a hand through his short blond hair, and started playing again, starting to sing. "There's a town across the way, pushed here by the wind. So much sky, the rebel wave carried me here. The lightning flashed on thirsty ground. And how you appeared my love. One beautiful gaze and I knew..."

He stopped then, looking down at the paper with a focused expression. I zoomed in carefully, making sure it didn't distract him, and caught him mouthing some of the words written down before looking at the instrument in his hand.

He sighed, turning where he sat and putting the guitar back in its case. I hadn't noticed, but he carried a second case with him that day. He opened that and pulled out a bass instead, picking out the tune he'd played on the guitar, but with some much lower parts added in.

I zoomed back out, filming this whole bit, and he started the song over again. Each detail seemed important, the way he bit his lip when he messed up, the slight turning up of the corner of his mouth when he got them right, his eyes closing when he got into the song. After watching him for a few minutes, it wasn't about the camera anymore. I kept filming, but the focus was far from the film. It was all on him.

It was probably because of this that when the bell rang, he and I both jumped, and I started to fall off of the wall. Instead of turning to catch myself like a smart person would do, I flipped to catch my camera, surprised when I felt a pair of arms catch me.

I looked up to see Roger holding me up, a mix of amusement and relief on his face. He'd jumped up when he saw me falling and caught me, clearly. He helped me back onto the wall carefully, looking around for his bass. "Dammit, where'd I drop it...?" he trailed off, looking in the bushes on the outer side. I leaned over from where he placed me, spotting it near its case, and pointed it out. He nodded, taking it, and smiled. "Thank you. Now, next time, don't fall off the damn wall."

I laughed. "I didn't do it on purpose! I was... distracted."

"By my rock star good looks?" he laughed.

I bit my lip, fighting back a blush, and let out a nervous laugh. "Let's go with that."

XmXrX

Homeroom was homeroom, complete with filming the teacher while I talked to Roger about that morning's footage and how I caught my whole fall from my point of view. We had Film first, during which I took a look at some of the shots I had from that morning and decided what I would cut for editing. Roger looked on, asking questions now and then, until the bell rang. I went to Advanced English while Roger went to Calculus, though how he was in that class blew my mind. My new assignment was to write an interview with someone I just met, including details on who they're dating, interested in, and what they want to do for a living. It was a press interview, essentially, and since I could use it for Film, my decision was already made.

I had never skipped a class before my senior year, before Roger showed up. We had gym third period that day, and we were playing dodgeball. Normally, I'd play and be one of the last ones left because they loved pegging me at the end. That day, when I saw dodgeball set up, I groaned resignedly and started toward the locker rooms when I felt a hand wrap around my wrist from under the bleachers and pull me under.

Surprised, I turned to see Roger there. He held a finger up to his lips and loosened his grip on my wrist, pointing to a door at the end of the bleachers. He lowered his hand into mine and pulled me along to the door, which was unlocked.

He opened the door and peeked in to make sure it was a place we could go without being caught before pulling me in after him and shutting it just as quickly as he'd pulled me under the bleachers. I raised an eyebrow as I looked around the room and looked back at him. "So why are we in the stairwell in the gym instead of taking class?" I whispered.

He smirked, still holding my hand, and started up the stairs. It was four flights up that we came to another door, which he opened and pulled me through before closing quiety. I was surprised at what I saw.

There was a balcony, complete with bench, on the second floor that no student could ever find a way up to. It had a perfect view from the front of the school, the whole town of Scarsdale stretched out in front of it. Roger had found the way up.

"Whatcha think, Marky? Worth skipping gym?" he whispered in my ear, his breath warm.

I knew I was blushing when I turned around and smiled at him. "Definitely."

XmXrX

We also skipped my Calculus, his English Prep, class. We listened for the bell, realizing it was last period and we had music. He smiled wide. "Let's go!" he said quickly, standing and opening the door. We quickly went down the four flights of stairs and exited the gym, taking the shortest route to the music room, which was down a floor and across the building. It was almost instant that when he got in the room, Roger had his bass in hand and was picking out that same melody from earlier.

The teacher seemed surprised to see me in the room early, but looked at Roger and nodded. He listened to the tune for a minute before speaking. "Already got your idea for a song, boys?"

Roger nodded, a goofy grin on his face. "Yeah. We're working on it."

The teacher, Mr. Raymond, nodded with a smile. "Good. Keep it up."

For the remainder of the period, Roger and I went back and forth with lyrics, me nervous about my voice and him constantly telling me that no matter what Cindy said, I actually did sing rather nicely. Regardless of the fact that no matter now many times he said it, I still wasn't going to believe it.

The day ended much like the previous one, with Roger still playing and me still filming him, throwing in lines now and then when the song struck me particularly.

It was almost ten minutes after the bell when we stopped, and we were the last students left. Mr. Raymond had been listening to us for most of the period, it seemed, and had a pleased smile on his face. "You boys work well together. I think I made a good choice here."

I just nodded, blushing. Roger hadn't lost that goofy grin since the class started, so it was no change for him. He looked at the teacher as he packed up his bass and spoke. "Could I leave Jessie here? My bass?"

I raised an eyebrow. His bass was named Jessie. "Sure you can, Roger," Mr. Raymond said, opening the door to his office.

Roger put the instrument down inside the room carefully, locking the case before he turned away. "Be good to her," he said, only half joking. He picked up his guitar and searched his pocket for his keys. "Have a good day, Mr. Raymond," he called over his shoulder.

"You too, boys."

I followed Roger out to the parking lot, filming the whole way, and stayed quiet until he spoke. "Geez, when you're filming, you don't talk much."

I smiled. "It's one of those things. I want to capture everything how it is, sometimes without me involved."

He shook his head, laughing to himself, and swung the guitar into the backseat, leaning on his passenger side door. "Well, Cohen, you're gonna put the camera away for a while, because we're gonna drive around and talk."

"About what?" I asked.

"Nothing. Everything. Does it matter? We're just gonna talk." He opened the door he'd been leaning on, taking the camera from my hands carefully, and gently pushed me into the seat. "Now, let's go."

XmXrX

We drove around for a good two hours, talking about exactly what he said, everything and nothing at the same time. We'd gone into a lull in the conversation when he finally asked what I hoped he wouldn't bring up. "So, about last night..."

Instant blush. Damn teenage body. I always blushed. "Yeah?" I asked, voice cracking slightly.

He smiled a bit, looking down for a moment before looking back up at the road. "What'd.... well... What'd you think?" he stuttered, glancing at me when we got to a red light.

I looked down, looking back at him. "I don't know. It was... nice?" Nice? Nice? Of all the things I could say, nice?

He laughed. "Nice. Is that a good thing?"

I shrugged nervously. "Well... It didn't feel wrong. which I guess would make it a good thing."

The goofy grin he always had during music crossed his face, making me smile too. "Good. Cause if it did feel wrong, I'd definitely have to kill you."

I laughed a bit, lounging into my seat more comfortably. We drove around in a comfortable silence for another hour before we got to my house. He looked over at me, still grinning that goofy grin. "Don't want to go inside and get screamed at for 'KISSING ANOTHER BOY' again, huh?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "That's my mother..." I sat up, reaching in back for my camera. I couldn't reach it, so Roger reached around me and got it, handing it to me with as much care as I would have picked it up with. "Thanks," I said. I slid my bag onto my shoulder and turned toward him before I opened the door. "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Night, Mark."

I had my hand on the handle of the door when I looked back at him again. "Hey, Roger?" I said.

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

I leaned forward, tentatively, and kissed him lightly.

He pulled back a second later, smiling wide. "Go home, Mark, or your mom will never let you hang out with me again."

I laughed, opening the door, and got out. I stood at the door for a minute, just looking at him, and then said, "Night," before heading into the house.

XmXrX

I sat in my room that night, looking through the day's footage and was surprised to find only a few shots that didn't involve Roger at all.

I turned off the camera and projector, laying back on the bed. I wasn't gay. I couldn't be gay. I had been with Maureen, after all. That was enough to prove I wasn't gay.

Then why was it that I'd already kissed Roger twice, and it still felt right?


And there's the new chapter. =D

REVIEWS are greatly appreciated! They make me happy and want to keep writing.

There's only now, there's only here...