Author's Note: This chapter spans the week following the last chapter. It's actually two chapters in one, just to speed things along. You know what that means, Mari ?!

***

CHAPTER 25

MONDAY

Mark poked his head into Roger's bedroom.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"What do you want?"

"Do we have any ice cream?" Roger asked, poring over his guitar.

Mark sighed. "Hold on, I'll check." He walked back into the kitchen and opened the small icebox atop the fridge. He knew they didn't have any ice cream and Roger would probably yell and scream about it for a couple hours until he forgot about it.

"Rog," he called. "We don't have any ice cream." He braced himself.

"Do we have like, cookies or anything like that?"

That was easier than he thought it would be.

"Probably. I'll check."

He rummaged through the cupboards until he found some chocolate chip muffins. He didn't know how long they had been there, but Roger probably didn't care. He went into Roger's room and offered the muffins to him.

"Are these good?"

"Yup."

"Okay." He paused. "Your appointment at the clinic is tomorrow, remember?"

"I know," he scowled. Mark was getting tired of these mood swings.

"Just checking. Collins said he'll go with you."

"I know, Mark." He returned to plucking out a rough tune of the Fender.

"You need anything else?"

"No, I'm fine."

"All right." Mark quietly pulled the door shut and heard Roger call from inside.

"Thanks, Mark."

Mark shook his head and flopped back down onto the couch where he was before. He picked up his camera and pressed 'play'. Footage from his weekends in Scarsdale flashed before him. He loved his family, but decided it was probably best to deal with them in small doses.

An image of Maureen playing with Cathy and her dolls on the floor played back. He was so frustrated with Maureen. She had come home late again last night, and thinking Mark was fast asleep, she slipped into bed seemingly unnoticed. He didn't know what to do with her. He kept telling himself that he loved her, but the more she did this to him the less he felt it.

He heard her shuffle into the loft and walk into the kitchen, already dressed. She grabbed a glass of water from the tap and sat down at the island.

"Morning," she greeted him, not meeting his gaze.

"Hi. Where were you?"

"Out," she shrugged, taking a sip of her water.

"Maureen!"

"What?!"

"What the hell is going on with you?!"

"What do you mean?"

Mark stared blankly at her.

"Are you… on crack or something? Have you not been paying attention?"

"Mark, relax. It's just a little fun."

"Fun? At my expense! Do you have any idea how worried I get when you leave here and don't tell me where you're going?"

"Gee, sorry mom. I'm a big girl, Mark. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, but would it kill you to tell me where the hell you go every night and why you suddenly can't spend any time with me?"

"God, just relax, okay? It's not a big deal."

"Yes it is! I can't believe you!"

Maureen glanced back at the clock on the microwave and checked the time. She hopped off the stool and walked over to the closet, where she took her coat out.

"I have rehearsal," she told him, deadpan.

"What? You're just going to walk out during an argument?!" Mark yelled as she put on her running shoes.

"At least I'm telling you where I'm going!" she screamed.

"Maureen, wait."

Her hand on the doorknob, Maureen turned back to Mark, fed up.

"I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have yelled," he tried. He didn't want to fight with her. He loved her.

"Okay. I wish I never met you," she said bitterly. She left and shut the door behind her. Mark backed up until he hit the island and leaned back onto it. She heard him.

* * *

TUESDAY

Benny opened his eyes groggily. Stupid inner alarm clock. He woke to find Mimi's head resting on his chest, her arms wrapped around his back. He had gone to visit her the night before to apologize, and she accepted it along with the rose he offered her. They sat up that night talking things through until they both fell asleep. They decided that they really were in love and despite Mimi's age, they were going to make it work.

Benny removed Mimi's arms from him carefully so as not to wake her and got out of the bed. He rubbed his eyes and sauntered into the tiny kitchen. He found something to eat, but his glance caught on something else on the counter. Squinting at it, he moved closer to pick it up. It was a small plastic bag of white power, and looked like something Roger would carry around with him. Benny suddenly became very nervous, his heart beating quicker than before.

"Mimi?" he called. It didn't come out as loud as he wanted, so he called to her again. "Meems?" He stared at the bag for a little while longer, then turned on his heel and back into the bedroom.

"Mimi," he shouted louder than he meant to. She jolted awake and sat up quickly.

"What? What is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and resettling herself among the sheets.

"What is that in the kitchen?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" She crawled across the bed to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Are you… you know, d-do you do drugs?"

Mimi stared blankly at him, biting her bottom lip. She looked very uncomfortable and nervous, and slowly removed her arms from Benny.

"Not really," she replied quietly.

"Not really?" Benny asked, playing awkwardly with the seams on the sides of his pants. He made sure he was careful to speak calmly. Nothing was worse than erupting with anger over something stupid.

"Like, not regularly. I swear."

"But you do?"

"Benny, don't be mad. Please. It was just a couple times…"

Benny couldn't believe this. They just got back together and suddenly she's springing this on him?

"For how long?"

"A couple months. But not often. I just started doing it more when we broke up. Don't be mad, baby."

"How can I not be mad?" he asked, pacing the bedroom. "Is it serious?"

Mimi shook her head quickly. "No… it's just, every once in a while. Benny, please… I want to stop. For you."

"What?" Benny asked, standing still and staring at Mimi.

"I… I want to stop doing drugs because I want to be with you."

"Really?"

"Yes," she smiled weakly. "Really."

Benny sat down on the edge of the bed and took Mimi's hand in his.

"Good. Because I don't want to see you end up like Roger. I don't know how anybody's putting up with him right now."

"Don't worry. I love you and I don't want to put you through anything crazy like that. Trust me."

"I do trust you," Benny smiled before leaning in and kissing Mimi.

* * *

NEXT MONDAY

Over the course of the next week, things around the loft definitely changed. Benny spent most of his nights at Mimi's apartment. The resident drama queen hadn't come home for days and nights at a time, and when she did it was in the very early hours of the morning to grab some clean clothes and take a shower. Mark seemed pretty depressed about this, and Collins was left to take care of the whiny Mark and secluded Roger. Roger hadn't left the loft for fear of what he'd do. He didn't want to get back into drugs, and felt like he couldn't handle the outside world anymore. Collins took him to the clinic, and that's where he was diagnosed and started on AZT. Roger cried himself to sleep that night, wishing he had April with him. The next morning he called up Bender, one of his band mates, to tell him he had to quit the band. Roger, who was once loud, rude, and extremely extroverted, was now quiet and reclusive, scared of everything around him.

Roger sighed and tilted his head as he tried to figure out what he was watching on television. He had been at it for a good thirty minutes, and had even tried to keep his cool. Mark let him order food, but then he quickly left to go filming again. He had been doing that a lot lately. It was Tuesday night, and Collins had a meeting with the Dean at NYU about getting his old job back (though everybody knew it was a sure thing), Mark was out filming again, and Benny was over at Mimi's apartment, where he had been for the last week. Roger was glad to have some time to himself without people's nagging voices in his ear.

He spoke too soon.

The front door opened, and Roger heard a female laugh from down the hall. Benny appeared in the doorway, grinning, and balked when he saw Roger.

"Hey, man."

"Hi."

"Uh, I just brought Mimi over."

"Okay."

"We'll just… oh my God, what are you doing?" he laughed, looking down the hall. A woman Roger assumed to be Mimi collided into Benny, laughing. She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled at Roger.

"Hey."

"Hi," Roger grumbled.

"Sunshine," Benny whispered to Mimi, who erupted with another set of giggles. They entered the loft and removed the coats and shoes. Mimi flopped onto the chair by Roger and looked over to the television as Benny wandered into the kitchen. He noticed a note on the counter. He scanned it quickly and sighed.

"Shit. Baby, I gotta go call Sean from work."

"Why?" she asked, turning to face him. He shrugged and picked up the phone from the kitchen counter.

"I dunno, I'll just be a minute." He brushed past her and into his bedroom. Mimi laughed and turned back around, looking at the television again.

"You're Roger, right?" she asked. Roger grunted in response, crossed his arms and sunk lower into his seat on the couch.

"I can't believe Benny," she laughed. "Work always comes first, right?" She continued when she got no response. "He's a workaholic, I swear."

Roger shrugged. Mimi studied him for a long moment as he watched the television.

"Are you okay? Benny told me you were going through withdrawal."

"I'm gonna kick his ass," Roger grumbled.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No," Roger sighed. "It's okay. Yeah I am." He really wasn't in the mood to spill all his problems to a complete stranger, or to anyone at that.

"I know how you feel," she told him, placing her hands underneath her legs and kicking at the bottom of the chair.

"Sure."

"No, seriously. My friend was really into drugs and everything." She shrugged. "But she went to rehab to get better."

"Of course she did. They all do."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Roger sighed. "Never mind."

"She kind of got me into it, too. But Benny said we'll nip it in the bud and I'll be okay, you know?"

"Good for you."

"Sorry. I guess I'm not helping, am I?"

"Not really."

"Have you thought about rehab?"

Roger shrugged.

"My friend said it's the best thing you could do. It's harder to do it alone. She told me."

"And do you believe everything your little friend says?"

"Well she knows more than most people. More than you, I'm sure," she snapped.

"I'm sure," he repeated. "Is she a stripper, too?"

Mimi glared at him. "I'm not a stripper, I'm a dancer. There's a difference."

"I just call 'em like I see 'em. When I last saw you, you were dancing half-naked for a crowd of probably very drunk guys."

"Shut up," she retorted lamely. Roger scoffed and turned his attention back to the television. Who was she to waltz into the loft and act like she owned the place?

"I was just trying to help."

Did she ever shut up?

"I don't need your help."

"You sure look like you do. You're sitting in your own garbage watching smushy black and white reruns of the Three Stooges. You're such a typical guy," she spat.

Roger and Mimi sat in a tense silence for the next several minutes. They could hear Benny talking on the phone in the other room, though neither could make out what he was saying. Roger picked up the Chinese food cartons from around him and piled them neatly on the floor by his feet. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms again.

"I guess I got through to you," Mimi giggled quietly, still staring at the television.

"I guess you did," Roger laughed. He glanced over to Mimi and smiled.

"Sorry," she told him, meeting his glance. Roger turned away quickly when she looked at him and focused on the wall across from him.

"It's okay. I guess I kind of deserved it."

"Yeah you did," Mimi grinned. She stuck her tongue out at him, so he knew she was joking.

"So…" Roger began, glancing around the room awkwardly. "Do you know what rehab's like?"

Mimi thought for a moment before shrugging. "Not really. My friend doesn't really like to talk about it. She just kind of looks forward to whatever's coming next."

"Oh."

"But she came back really happy and really healthy," Mimi added quickly. "She looked great and felt better. So I'd totally suggest it. If you want to." She paused and they sat in silence again, watching the television. "Do you want to?"

Roger shrugged slowly. "I think I do. 'Cause it's kind of hard to do this all alone. And everybody here gets mad at me a lot. I just don't know how to go about it."

"I could help," Mimi suggested. "I mean, if you want me to," she added quickly. Roger sunk back into his seat and looked down to the ground, nodding. Mimi tilted her head and watched him in silence. She got up and sat down beside him.

"It'll be okay," she told him quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He didn't recoil, so she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. "It'll be okay."

* * *

Maureen tripped slightly as she sauntered up the stairs to the loft. She had more trouble with those damn heels than she'd ever let on. She tugged at the top of the boots to try and make them more comfortable and she hopped up the stairs on one foot, holding onto the railing for support. She glanced down at her watch and winced when she noticed that it was one o'clock on Wednesday morning. She didn't know what to tell Mark this time. She had a rehearsal at one o'clock, but that had ended and seven in the evening. One of the men in the cast, Kevin, had invited her to dinner with his boyfriend and his boyfriend's sister. She went with them, and after dinner at about ten they had all decided to go out to a bar. They all left at about 11:30 except for Maureen who decided to stay and have a little more fun. She did, and now she was recovering from said fun, hoping she could slip into the loft unnoticed.

Maureen opened the door quietly and crept into the room. She was caught off guard when she saw Mark sitting on the couch staring up at her.

Make up your mind and I'll make up mine,
Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.
Those words that you said to me, why wasn't I listening?
I wish I hadn't met you at all.

"Mark! Holy shit, what are you doing?" she asked, tossing her coat aside. He raised an eyebrow at her and Maureen looked back at him. "What?"

"Where were you?" he asked, eerily calmly. Maureen shrugged and pulled off her shoes.

I started thinking…

I'll sit back and relax and wait for the morning.

We'll wake up, we'll make up, and do this for the last time.

We'll wake up, we'll make up, and do this for the last time.

"Just went out after the show for dinner with a guy from the cast… and his boyfriend," she added, noticing the sudden hurt in his eyes. He shook his head as if to clear his mind and stood up.

"Dinner doesn't go until midnight."

"One…" Maureen trailed off quietly, realizing the stupidity of her comment.

Mark sighed, and a look of anger came over his face.

If we break up, we'll wind up losing both of our minds.
So wake up, let's make up, and do this for the last time.

"I'm sick of this, Maureen. I can't do it anymore. I can't handle you."

"Excuse me?" Maureen asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"You're too… crazy for me. This relationship has given me more stress than anything ever in my life. I'd rather be back in Brown with homework coming out of my ass and my parents nagging my face off every night."

The last time you yelled at me I swore that I heard you say
'I wish I hadn't met you at all'

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically. "Would you rather get hit by a car, too?"

"Keep it down. Everyone else is asleep."

"I'll talk as loud the hell as I want to!" she yelled. "I live here, too!"

"But you don't even help with rent!" Mark retorted. "Do you think that everything's gonna be handed to you on a silver platter or something? Like, what the hell is going on inside your head?!"

"I could ask you the same thing! Wasn't it you who said you wish you'd never met me? That's not how you treat your girlfriend!"

"And you don't treat your boyfriend like this! I can't even count the number of times I've been sitting up in the middle of the night waiting for you to get home from wherever the fuck you go!"

We'll wake up, we'll make up and do this for the last time.
If we break up, we'll wind up losing both of our minds
So wake up, let's make up, and do this for the last time

Mark took a step back. Maureen immediately quieted down and even though she looked poised to reach out and hit him, she stood still as she looked down to the ground.

"I just think we're too different," he said quietly. He expected Maureen to freak out and start screaming at him, but she didn't. Instead she stood a few feet away from Mark, gaping at him.

"I think we need to break up," Mark sighed shakily. That was quite possibly the hardest thing he ever had to do. He watched Maureen nod dumbly as her eyes lowered again.

When will we make up, will we break up
Let's wake up, let's wake up, let's wake up…

"Mark, no…" she pleaded quietly. "Marky." He nodded.

"Sorry." He backed up slowly and went into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and listened intently for any sounds coming from the next room. No sniffling, no sobs, no crying. Apparently she's not as angry about this as she could have been.

He couldn't believe that she really wasn't feeling anything about this. It killed him inside to know that he just broke up with Maureen. He had been sitting on the couch, planning for that night to be like every other, where Maureen would stumble into the loft, she's rattle off one of her excuses, and Mark would take her in his arms, kiss everything better, and fall asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around her, never wanting to let her go. Instead, at the very last minute he realized that he needed to get rid of her. If he broke up with her, his life would be rolling along more smoothly. He wouldn't be constantly be worrying about her whereabouts and fighting with her. So he did it.

He stood up from the bed and quickly changed into his pyjamas, shoving his dirty laundry in the plastic hamper at the bottom of his closet. He crawled under the covers and pulled the blankets up to his chin, shutting his eyes tightly so as to try and keep his thoughts off of Maureen. He tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity until he heard a tiny, almost silent, knock at the door. It creaked open and Maureen's silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" she whispered nervously. Mark sat up hesitantly and moved over, nodding. Maureen got into bed next to Mark. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, never wanting to let her go, and she rested her head on his shoulder as she had many nights before. They both immediately felt at peace, clinging onto each other for dear life.

Let's wake up, let's make up, and do this for the last time.

***

+ Lyrics = "Make Up Your Mind" by Theory of a Deadman

Reviews motivate me to write quicker! The response I get from the upcoming chapters will probably determine the length of this story… so if you're reading and you want to see more, review! It's what all the cool kids are doing.