Chapter 9
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A/N:
Alrighty, I've officially decided that this is mainly going to be a Mark/Maureen/Roger/April story, partly due to my Mark/Mo whoreness and partly because I like it like that. There'll still be stuff about everybody else, too, though, but slightly less in depth.That's it! Enjoy and review, please!
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ONE WEEK LATER
A week later, Collins was running around the loft setting the food that Benny had bought out on the coffee table. He was due home with Mimi soon so she could meet the others. Mark and Maureen were hanging out on the couch, and Roger and April were still in Roger's bedroom where they had been for the last week.
"Why did he buy so much food?" Collins asked Mark and Maureen as he tried to squeeze what was the fourth tray of food on the coffee table.
"I don't know, but that means all the more food for us next week," Mark laughed from the couch, where he was rubbing Maureen's feet. She had somehow convinced him to give her a foot massage, claiming that it would be fun.
"When's he coming back with her?" Maureen asked.
"He said he'd go pick her up after work and they'd come here." Collins started to laugh as he said this.
"She's a stripper!" he repeated as if nobody had heard this before. Mark and Maureen rolled their eyes. After hearing that about 700 times, it was surprisingly less funny.
Collins waited for a response and when he received none, walked over to Roger's room and knocked on the door quietly. April appeared quickly and told Collins that she and Roger weren't up to meeting Mimi, and that they just wanted to hang out in his room for the night. Collins offered them food, and they accepted it, shutting themselves up in Roger's room again.
"Are Roger and April gonna meet her, too?" Maureen asked.
"Nope," Collins shrugged, trying to fit yet another tray of food on the coffee table.
"Are they ever gonna leave the loft again? They've been in here for like, a week!" she said, pulling her feet away from Mark and moving closer to him on the couch.
"Give them time, Mo," Collins chided her, sitting down on the chair.
Maureen stuck her tongue out at him and yawned.
"Hurry the hell up, Benny," she whined.
"Don't worry, he'll be here soon," Mark wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. Everything had been going a lot better between he and Maureen in the last week. They spent every day together, and she didn't have any more mysterious disappearances. And as it turned out, she got the role she auditioned for – Cecily in The Importance of Being Earnest. Everything was working out for their relationship, and Mark never felt better about it.
Mark snapped back to reality when he heard Maureen's shrill voice arguing Collins about something. He smiled. He found it so cute when Maureen got so worked up over something that her voice would reach about four notches higher than her voice normally was. Mark decided that whatever the two were fighting about, Collins was probably right. He always was.
The three continued to banter among themselves and occasionally steal food off of the trays and rearranging it so it looked like nothing was missing so Benny wouldn't kill them. He could be really anal about that kind of thing, and they often teased him about it.
Soon after, the door opened and Benny entered holding a young-looking girl's hand, who Mark recognized and Mimi. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked pretty nervous.
"Hey, guys," Benny greeted, as he took Mimi's long coat and hung it up in the closet with his. "This is Mimi!"
Everybody smiled and greeted her, and Collins stood up, giving her his seat. He grabbed a stool from the island and sat on that instead.
Benny introduced everybody, leading Mimi to the chair. "That's Collins, Maureen, and Mark, and April and Roger are. . .not here."
Mimi smiled and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Collins asked, trying to break the ice.
Mimi looked up at him like he just asked her to have his babies and laughed a bit.
"Yeah, please." She stood up and followed him to the fridge, and Benny sat on the arm of Mimi's chair.
"What do you guys think?"
"She's so cute!" Maureen exclaimed. This, of course, caused Collins and Mimi to look over at her and laugh.
"Nice going, Mo."
"Sorry," she giggled, burying her face into Mark's shoulder.
Mimi and Collins returned, armed with five beers. Collins passed them around and Mimi took her seat once again.
Several hours later, it was now into the wee hours of the morning and the group had continued getting acquainted, talking, and laughing. Mimi was immediately accepted into the group with no hostility and everybody really liked her.
Suddenly, she jumped up out of her seat.
"I gotta go!" She hurried over to the door and slipped on her shoes. Benny stood up and followed her to the door, and Collins handed her her coat.
"So soon?" Benny asked.
"Yeah, sorry baby. I'll call you, okay?" she replied, hurrying down the hall and down the stairs.
Benny stood at the open door with an eyebrow raised and shook his head, laughing. He walked back into the loft, letting the door swing shut behind him.
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Roger took another bite of his sandwich and looked over to April, who was sitting on the other end of the bed eating hers. This was one of the first things they had eaten in the week that they had been shut up in the loft. They hadn't had much of an appetite until now, and they weren't up to getting out and about just yet. They were still learning to live with 'it', as they so carefully referred to it. They were scared and often fell asleep clinging onto each other for dear life. Then they'd wake up, and Roger would hold April as she cried into his chest, and he'd pretend he wasn't crying, too. They hadn't said very much to each other, they didn't need to. They just needed to be together.
Roger popped the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and brushed the crumbs off of his lap. He put the plate on the floor next to his bed and lay down with his hands behind his head. April did the same and laid down next to Roger. They stayed still, listening to the muffled voices from the other room for several minutes. They had learned to hear through was quite well over the past couple days. Roger didn't know what else to do. He wanted to talk to April, but he didn't want to make her feel worse than she already did. She was convinced that this whole ordeal was her fault. It wasn't, and he knew it. If it wasn't for him, she would be fine right now. She would never have been involved in drugs and she would probably be a lot better off than she was now.
'Roger, you're such a fuck up. Not only do you screw up your
own life, but you screw up April's, too.'Roger was fed up with himself. He turned onto his side to face April.
"Babe?"
"Mmm?" April responded, not moving.
He ran his hand up and down her side. "What are we gonna do?"
"Go to sleep," her eyes fluttered shut and she moved closer to Roger.
"No, I mean. . .about everything. We can't stay in here forever." He wrapped an arm around her waist and breathed in the scent of her hair.
"I don't know. I don't want to think about it right now," she shook her head, nuzzling in closer to Roger.
Roger sighed. That was probably the only answer he'd get. He didn't want to push her, but he wanted to know what was going to happen.
April looked up at him and forced a smile.
"You're sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I mean, I will be. Yeah."
April kissed him and wrapped her arms around him tightly.
Roger was itching to reach for the plastic bag of white powder he had hidden in the pocket of his blue jeans, but couldn't get out of April's tight grasp. He knew she wanted it, too. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to think about anything besides the craving.
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The next night, everybody was sound asleep in bed except for Mark. He had been sitting on the couch fiddling with his camera for uncountable hours now. He was sitting on the couch when the loft was empty, except for Roger and April in the other room. He was sitting on the couch when Collins came home from work. He was sitting on the couch when Benny came in from his date with Mimi. He was sitting on the couch when Collins got up for a midnight snack. He was sitting on the couch, waiting for Maureen.
Mark wanted to kick himself for jinxing his and Maureen's relationship. He was convinced everything was going to work out famously because of the last week they had spent together. They were as close as they ever had been, and Mark, even though he didn't think it was possible, was loving Maureen more than he had before.
His eyes felt heavy and started drooping. No, no, he had to stay awake. Maureen would be home any minute and she would have a reason why she was home so late. The subway broke down. Rehearsals ran late. There had to be a good reason, right? Of course. This was Maureen. She would never do anything to hurt Mark.
Mark sighed and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't go to sleep yet. Not yet. If he went to sleep, he wouldn't be able to help Maureen if she was hurt or kiss her goodnight. . .
Mark's head snapped up. 'Stay awake!' he scolded himself. He stood up and walked into the kitchen slowly, yawning.
"When a problem comes along, you must whip it," Mark sang quietly to himself, trying to stay awake.
"Uh. . .mmmm, you must whip it," he hummed. He didn't know all the words. He emptied the coffee pot into a nearby mug.
"When something's going wrong, you must whip it. . ." He slid the mug into the microwave and put it in for a minute.
"Now whip it, into shape, shape it up, it's not too late. . ." He swayed back and forth waiting for the microwave to stop and beep.
"Go forward. . .mov'head. . .whip it, whip it goooood. . ."
Mark gave up and wandered into his bedroom, flopping onto the bed. He shut his eyes and quickly drifted into unconsciousness.
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Maureen quietly, but quickly walked down Avenue B to the loft. What time was it? Fuck. Her watch. Where was her watch? She ran her hands up and down her arms searching for it. She could call Joanne tomorrow and see if she left it there that night.
Joanne. Joanne. What would Mark say if he found out? Hey, Maureen, where were you last night? Oh, you know, fucking a girl. Mark would keel over and die.
Joanne. Maureen liked Joanne. She was the complete opposite of her. She was a lawyer. She was nice. She was brilliant. She was beautiful. She was everything Maureen wanted to be. She was perfect.
'God, just stop it. You're so stupid. How could you let this happen? You're not just hurting Mark. You're hurting everybody else. Mark, Joanne. . .the countless people you've been doing on the side.'
She carefully thought everything through. She loved Mark, didn't she? She didn't love all those other people. She just liked them. She liked them just fine. But she loved Joanne.
What?
Mark, she loved Mark. She didn't love Joanne, she loved Mark. If she loved Joanne, that would make her a lesbian. She wasn't gay, just curious. Mark. Everything was Mark. She was in love with Mark.
But what if she didn't love Mark? What if she loved Joanne? She had seen Joanne several times, and spent numerous nights with her. She really liked her. But she can't be in love with Joanne if she's in love with Mark. Because she loved Mark.
Her thoughts continued to plague her until she reached the door of her building. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She had taught herself not to back when she was very young, about eight. After her parents divorced when she was five, things started going downhill from there. She figured if she didn't cry, things were never as bad as they seemed.
She slowly wandered up the stairs, gripping onto the railing tightly. She savoured the sound of her heels clicking on the cold cement stairs and when she reached the top of the first flight, stomped on the landing for a good minute to vent her frustrations. She took two stairs at a time from that point on until she finally reached the top floor. She pushed open the door quietly and peered in.
Empty. Perfect.
Maureen slid into the loft and quietly removed her shoes and her coat, not bothering to hang it up in the closet. It would have made too much noise.
Halfway to her and Mark's room, she heard the bedroom door behind her creak open.
"Where were you?"
Roger. Oh my God.
Maureen spun around. "Out." She continued walking to her bedroom.
"Out where?" Roger asked quickly.
Maureen stopped and sighed.
"Out out. Now leave me alone."
Roger stifled a laugh and walked over to the fridge.
"Shouldn't you have been home like, hours ago?" He pulled out a bottle of beer and leaned against the counter.
"Shouldn't you quit being a hermit and get a life?" she shot back, still poised near the door.
Roger took a big gulp of his beer and raised an eyebrow. He was rubbing his free hand along the side on his jeans and sniffing. Withdrawal.
"The Drama Queen gets cranky."
"Shut up, Roger." Maureen walked into the kitchen and swung the refrigerator door open, taking out a beer as well.
"All I'm saying is, Mark might not suspect anything, but I do."
She looked over at him and grimaced, sitting on the stool farthest away from Roger.
"And what do you suspect, Little Miss Well Hungarian?"
"Well let's see. You disappear randomly then waltz in at three in the morning acting like nothing's wrong. Seems kind of strange to me."
"Yeah, well you seem kinda strange to me. Constantly getting high, fucking up your girlfriend's life, locking yourself up in your bedroom, which, by the way, doesn't make for a pleasing smell."
"Shut up," Roger retorted. Maureen smiled smugly and continued.
"And I guess it doesn't make it any better that your best friend can't trust you, ever since you tried to do his girlfriend." She rested her chin in her hand and smiled innocently at Roger who looked down and sniffed.
'And Roger is usually so good with words.'
"So, really, which is stranger?" she asked, feigning deep interest.
Roger finished off his beer and placed the empty bottle on the counter behind him. He turned and walked back to his bedroom door.
"Don't I get an answer?" Maureen pouted. Roger turned around. His usually vibrant green eyes were hollow and empty.
"Just shut up, Maureen. I can't take you."
With that, Roger was back in his room and the door was once again shut. Maureen let out a small laugh and stood up. She shook her head and walked back to her bedroom, hoping she wouldn't wake Mark.
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Roger crept into his bedroom and noticed April was sitting up in the dark.
"You're awake."
"I don't think I was ever asleep. Why'd you get up?" She moved over and Roger sat next to her.
"I was thirsty." He draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. She wriggled out of his grasp and stretched before settling against him again. There was a long moment of silence, then Roger spoke up.
"Do you love me?"
"Of course I do." She looked up at him and pretended to grimace, trying to hide a smile. "Duh," she laughed.
"Good. Because I love you too."
"Well, good. I'm glad." She shut her eyes and grabbed on to the back of Roger's shirt, writhing it. Roger listened to April's shallow and shaky breathing.
"April?"
"Yeah?"
"Marry me."
April lay still for a minute.
'Good going, Roger.'
She looked up at Roger and examined his face.
"What?" she asked slowly.
"Nothing, never mind," Roger replied quickly. Way to fuck up every relationship you have, Davis.
"No, what did you ask me?" A smile crept over April's face.
"Nothing. I didn't say anything." Roger covered his face with his hand.
April leaped up and jumped on Roger.
"What did you say?!" she giggled.
"Marry me?" he asked in a small voice from behind his hand, peeking through his fingers.
" 'Kay," she smiled. This wasn't the phoney smile she had plastered on her face for the last week to make Roger feel better, it was genuine.
"Really?" Roger asked, snaking his arms around her waist.
"Yes, really."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
April leaned her forehead down onto Roger's and kissed him gently. His hands wandered up into her hair and the early morning dissolved into a fit of passion.
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