"Roger, calm down

"Roger, calm down!" cried Mark helplessly, attempting to steady Roger as he paced frantically in the middle of a Starbucks Café.

"If she wants Benny, let her have him!"

"I'm sure it's all just a –"

"If you say misunderstanding, I'll punch you."

"Hey, saw-ry! Don't take it out on me. You're overreacting, as usual."

"Don't start with me, Mark. I'm not in the mood for your reproaches."

"It's the truth. You should talk to her before you jump to conclusions."

"He was grabbing her, Mark! What else do I need to see to tell me all my suspicions are correct?"

"How about proof? That could've been a friendly pat…. Like a… 'how are you' pat." While turning on his camera, Mark jokingly slapped Roger's butt with a loud laugh, but soon realized the people in the café didn't find it funny.

"Hey, queer, we don't need any of that here," called a man behind the counter that Mark could only assume was the manager.

"Hey, sorry, sir…. I was only –"

"Buy something or get out. If you wanna be gay, do it outside my store."

"Watch it pal!" retorted Roger angrily, stepping forward. "You have no right to say that to him!"

"Get out or be escorted: your choice."

"Fuck you!"

"Roger, calm down!" Lowering the camera, Mark tried to place a hand on Roger's shoulder but he shook it off harshly, glaring.

"Mark, shut up!" He turned back to the manager angrily. "You got a problem with us?"

"I don't want no trouble from you guys. C'mon, do as your pal over there says and get out of my café."

"To hell with you!" Roger screamed, stomping out of the store and slamming the door behind him.

Mark stood helplessly in the center of the room, all eyes upon him. He cleared his throat and slinked out with a whisper of "I'm sorry" to the manager. Once outside, he saw Roger waiting for him, his arms folded and an angry glare being shot straight towards him.

"You're such a hypocrite!" he shouted, his eyes narrowing. "And turn off that damn camera!"

Mark fumbled, turning it off. "What are you talking about? You just saved your own ass in there! If you would've stayed –"

"What, something good might've happened? Something to better humanity? That guy's a fuckin' homophobe and you're just gonna stand there and take it?"

"Roger, we're not gay…."

"Does that make any difference? Damn it, Mark! That's why you and Collins don't get along anymore. You've changed. You used to stand up and fight for what you believed in. I guess not anymore…."

"C'mon Roger, I'm up for gay rights as much as you are, but that would've turned into a brawl for no reason." Mark paused, searching Roger's face as they began to walk. "What is this really about? First, you're upset at Mimi and Benny and now gay rights? Which is it?"

"I don't wanna talk anymore. I'm breaking it off with Mimi tonight. Benny can go to hell with the rest of the scums of the earth. And as for gay rights…" He trailed off and not another word was said until they reached home.

Mark sighed, pushing open the door and catching sight of Mimi, seated on a folding chair in the middle of the room. She brightened up immensely as she saw Roger. Mark's arm shot out as Roger began to charge forward, stopping him short.

"Hey, don't go making assumptions before you know the facts."

"Screw you –"
"No!" Mark grabbed Roger's collar, his eyes intensely serious. "Just ask!"

"Fine! Have it your way! I'll ask her before I –"

"Ask me what?" Mimi was standing now right in front of them.

Roger's breath left his body then, feeling her close to him. Mark sensed the sexual tension and retreated slowly with the whisper, "I'll just wait outside."

"So? Whatcha got to ask me, huh?" she asked, playfully tugging on his jacket sleeve like a little child.

"Uhh… I…"

"Can it wait? I've got something to tell you. Or is it very important?"

"It's… It's…" He shook his head, pushing her to get into the room further, finally able to breathe. "Yes, it's very important that I ask you something."

"Oh…Okay, go ahead."

He didn't turn around, but merely let his back face her so he wouldn't have to see those beautiful eyes. "Actually, I've got a few questions…"

"Shoot."

"Where'd you go this morning?"

She grinning, biting her lip, although he couldn't see it. "Somewhere," she answered mysteriously. She was trying to act playful, pretending as if she didn't want to tell him. To him, it came out that she was trying to hide something.

"Where did you go this morning?" he repeated again, coldly.

She narrowed her eyes, sensing something was up. "Roger? What's wrong?"

He spun around, roughing grabbing her arm. "Where the fuck were you, Mimi? I woke up with no one to hug but Mark!"

"Hey, watch it…" came a voice from outside the hallway, which they both ignored.

"W-What?" she stuttered, puzzled, her eyes widening.

"You heard me! Or do I need to repeat it a fourth time?"

"I was out, Roger. You can't keep tabs on me every minute of my life." She struggled to get free, but he persisted.

"Where?"

"Fuck you! What the hell's the matter with you?"

He paused, pushing her arm away and backing up with a smug look of anger imprinted on his features. "How's Benny?"

Her face changed from a complete lack of understanding to a solemn comprehension, almost tauntingly irritated. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You heard me."

"Benny's fine. What are you trying to ask, Roger?"

"So, you talked to him?" he asked, folding his arms, his tone harsh.

"Yeah, I ran into him on the way home from… on the way home…"

"From where?"

She gritted her teeth, eyes studying the floor. "I don't want to tell you. Not now."

"Why the hell not, Mimi? I saw you and Benny!" She looked up, puzzled. He misread the glance as startled. "Yes, that's right! I saw it all! No need to explain, hun. I'd rather just have you out of here, ASAP. Hope you have a happy Thanksgiving!" he added bitterly, turning away from her and fiddling with the strings of his acoustic guitar, which lay on one of the large tables.

Mimi approached him slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon, Roger…. Don't you know that I haven't even talked to Benny for weeks, since I changed my number? What's gotten you so upset at me?"

Roger slumped over the guitar, trying to steady himself. God, he loved her. He always seemed to lose his temper for the dumbest reasons, but he'd seen this with his own two eyes, hadn't he? Proof schmoof! He'd seen it!

"Roger…?"

"What?" He shook off her hand. "Geez, just go! Unless you can tell me what I saw was false, just get out of here."

"What did you see?"

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"No! Just tell me what the hell you're talking about!"

"You and Benny!" he said, spinning to face her, his eyes wounded. "You and him…"

"What?" she asked tenderly, stepping closer to him and toying with his shirt, her eyes gently imploring him.

"I…uh saw you…"

"Roger," she cooed, stroking his cheek. "I only have eyes for a certain musician-friend of mine who has a problem with jumping to conclusions." Her lithe fingers ran through his hair. "But sometimes he's just so cute that I forgive him for being angry."

Roger was still not convinced completely, but he couldn't pull himself away from her soothing touch. "Swear to me that you two were't…doing anything."

"Oh c'mon Roger!"

"Swear to me." His eyes were intense.

"I swear," she sighed, frowning. "Did you really think I was having some secret affair with Benny? Of all people!"

"But, I saw –"

"Forget what you saw. He was being nice for once. He's changed."

Roger was still skeptical, but he decided she was telling the truth. He desperately wanted to believe her. His arms lifted, wrapping around her waist.

"So, you trust me, huh?" she asked, smiling.

"Uh huh."

"You'd better." She pulled him close and pressed her lips against his, kissing him.

Mark chose that particular moment to walk in, shoving the door open. He grinned, turning back on the camera, narrating quietly to himself. "And now we see the two lovers, who've recently made-up and are now in the process of making out. Quite romantic or tragically sickening? Maybe both." He pulled a curtain closed that he had recently put up for moments like these, when Roger and Mimi wanted privacy. Mark hated being the third wheel, but he wasn't about to have Roger move out. He needed the company. Otherwise, he was constantly depressed.

Behind the curtain, Roger and Mimi carried on, while Mark sat down on the table, hearing their noises clearly. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Hey, you animals back there!"

Roger stuck his head out and nearly giggled. "Ye-es?"

"You wanna come out and get to work? Remember, we're getting paid for this."

Mimi brushed herself off and stepped out first, smiling brightly. "You got jobs?"

"Yep," replied Roger. "Good jobs too."

"Oh, that sort of reminds me, Roger…"

"What?"

"Uhh…look, I have some news to tell you, but I'd rather you were sitting down."

Roger's eyes narrowed suddenly and he straightened himself. "I'll stand."

"Okay. If you want to." She took in a breath and bit her lip. Mark and Roger were staring at her now. "I'm…"

"You're what?" asked Mark, feeling an odd vibe coming from her.

"I'm…pregnant!"

Suddenly there was silence. Roger released a long-held breath and started to sit on the edge of the table then jumped to his feet and then began to pace frantically.

"Oh my God!" he cried.

"You're not happy?" Mimi asked, worried.

"Not happy?" He laughed, turning around and picked her up, spinning her around. "Not happy? How could I be not happy!?" They both laughed as he spun her around the room. All of a sudden, his features distorted to a terrified expression and he took his hands off her, brushing her gently. "Oh geez! How could I have been so stupid? Are you okay? I shouldn't be doing that! Not in your condition!"

Mark laughed and stood up, hugging Mimi. "Congrats, Mimi."

"Are you happy for me – us?" she asked, pinching his cheek.

"Of course," Mark said, forcing a smile, although he was not happy at all and would make a point of talking to Roger – alone – the first chance he got.

Roger pushed Mark out of the way and began to touch Mimi's stomach, but stopped, backing away. Mimi laughed gently.

"You won't hurt me by touching me, Roger."

"Oh, I know…I mean, I just didn't want… I wanted to…"

"I know. You're cute when you're nervous." She smirked, messing with his hair. With her free hand she guided him to her stomach and let him feel her.

His face turned to a saddened smile, one of so much happiness that he didn't know what to do first. "Gosh, Mimi…."

"Is that all you've got to say?" she asked, teasing.

He got down on his knees and placed his cheek against her stomach, wrapping his arms around her body tenderly. For a moment, she almost couldn't breathe, for her emotions caught up with her.

"Oh Mimi…"

She sniffled, feeling tears come to her eyes. Neither one of them noticed that Mark had left, taking his camera with him.

"Bunch of fuckin' assholes," mumbled Mark under his breath, his right hand in his pocket and his left holding the 16mm movie camera that went everywhere with him. It was off this time. "They don't even realize how stupid they are! God damn!" He cursed loudly and then sighed, leaning against the alley wall. He turned the camera on, pointing it directly at himself. "Zoom in on the green-faced Mark Cohen, who doesn't have a relationship, so he criticizes other people's." He exhaled; letting his arm drop to his side, limp as he banged his head against the wall. "I don't fuckin' need them, anyway. Let Roger move out. Let them have their HIV baby… Oh shit," he whispered, opening his eyes and straightening his posture. "They don't even know! Holy –"

"What's up there, Mr. Director?" came a harsh, low voice, filled with bass and hate. "Whatchu doin' all alone out here, huh?"

Mark spun around, his eyes widening to find a large man with skin as black as night slumped against his only exit. The man's features curved into a nasty snarl, which served as his smile. Then, the man emitted such a low grumble of a noise that Mark nearly jumped from the wall.

"What's 'da matter, boy?"

"Look, I wasn't causing any trouble, so can I just go?" asked Mark timidly.

"Hm… Well, I would let you go, but you look like you've got a good set 'a cash on ya'. So, howsabout it?"

Mark's eyes closed momentarily and he shook his head. "No, I'm poor. You've got the wrong –"

"Naw, I think I got the right guy here. Looky here, fellas." From around the corner, a few men, just as big and burly as this one, appeared; some holding large black clubs.

"Oh, fresh meat," growled one slightly bigger than the first.

Mark winced from where he stood and swallowed. 'Holy shit… I gotta run for it,' he thought to himself.

Before he knew what was happening, he took off on winged feet, trying to push his way through the men and get to the street beyond. Unfortunately, his lack of strength proved to be his downfall. Within seconds, they had pushed him back into the alley and cornered him in the back, where it was less likely to be heard.

Mark's heart beat a mile a minute as he felt them edging ever closer. Suddenly, there was a fist in his stomach and one on his head, sending him sprawling on the harsh pavement. Blood trickled from his dry lips, staining the gray concrete, as he felt tears swell in his eyes. Then, he felt something that caused his breath to falter: clothes were being torn from his body. He started to kick and scream, but with more than four pairs of hands holding him down, it was no use. Another blow was given to his right cheek, slapping his glasses off his face and causing blood to flow from his nose. He watched through blurred vision as his camera was tossed to the side, pieces tearing from it as it hit the ground. His felt hands grabbing and pulling, pushing and guiding, and then, there was a sharp pain around his back and lower torso, and he lost consciousness.

Tom Collins strolled down the street, carrying crisp bills in his pocket and fresh provisions in his arms. He was content at the moment, but was in desperate need to see Mark and settle things between them. He knew he'd been wrong to fight over Trevor's intentions in the first place, seeing as how he knew Mark was right all along, and now he would apologize to Mark and make things better. He'd even bought a small Fugi Camera as a gag gift to get a little laugh out of Mark.

Just as he was heading towards the loft, he heard a muffled cry from a nearby alley, not even five minutes from their home. He kept walking for a few steps, but something pulled in his chest, giving him an odd feeling of wrongness. He turned slowly and watched as a few large men came from the alley. The feeling intensified and his feet suddenly sprang forward, lunging him towards the alley. As he entered the alley, he saw a heap of clothing and blood, huddled in the far corner, sobbing and twitching. Collins leapt towards the mess of a human and knelt beside him, setting his packages down.

"Whoa, are you okay, pal?" There was no answer from the man. Collins bit his lip, noticing all the blood and the ripped clothing. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. "Can you speak? Are you okay?" There was still no answer as the man shook and muttered. Collins froze, recalling that voice. He gently turned the man so that he could look at his face and he nearly fainted. "Mark! Oh God, Mark! Are you okay? Speak, please God, speak!" Collins jumped to his feet, his voice echoing through the alley and carrying to the street, "Somebody help me!"

"Hap-hap-happy Turkey Day!" came a low voice outside the door of the loft.

"Benny?"

"Who else, kids?" He let himself in, smiling as he saw the two lovers hugging in the middle of the room. "I suppose you've told him the news, eh Mimi?"

She giggled. "Yeah."

Roger forced a smile. "Come on in Benny."

"Ah, hospitality at its best!" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them. "Shit, it's colder in here than it is outside."

"Yeah," said Roger with a smirk, "Somebody should fix the heat, huh?"

"Oh, slick!" Benny retorted, slapping Roger on the back.

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

"That's difference between you and me. You can't. I can." He smiled, moving towards Mimi. "Ah, Mimi! Looking better every minute I see you."

Roger cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh hush, Roger!" chided Mimi, smiling at Benny. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

"Ah, a compliment! I'm rating higher on the Benny-Richter-scale-of-love, eh?" He frowned. "But, you all know why I'm here."

Roger rolled his eyes, turning away, rubbing his thumb against his other fingers in a gesture of money. "I can guess."

"'Money makes the world go 'round', y'know." He looked around. "Where's Mark? He's usually the one to hand over payment."

Roger suddenly looked around too and laughed lightly. "I didn't even notice he left. I guess he took a hike, considering Mimi and I were…occupied—"

Mimi giggled. "--You mean, gloating."

"--When he was last here." He shrugged. "I'm sure he'll turn up later tonight. He's just jealous, as usual."

"Ehem, who do you think he gets it from?" Mimi asked.

Roger grinned. "I wouldn't know, darling."

"Mm hmm…"

Benny laughed. "I hate to interrupt you two, but the rent is due."

Roger groaned. "You have a tendency to ruin otherwise happy days, you know."

"I know. But, that doesn't change a thing. A man's gotta live."

"You're rich. That's different."

"No, no. Now, that's not so, Roger. I pay the bills just as you do. However, mine are on time."

"Don't rub it in."

Benny held out his hand. "C'mon, pay up. I don't wanna get mean about it, but this is my building and I allow your payments to be late most of the time. It's nearly the holidays, kids, and I need the money."

"What, does Muffy—"

"—Allison."

"—Need a new pair of suede Candy's?"

"No, dahling," Mimi said, mimicking a rich snob, "She had to get a new Vette."

"You two should tour on a comedy act. I'm laughing my ass off," said Benny, monotonously. "Look, one more day's all I can afford. The other tenants pay on time, so why don't you?"

"We're special."

"Special my ass."

Roger and Mimi laughed as Roger sat down in a folding chair, taking a drink of his bottled water that sat atop the table. "Give us two months, Benny –"

"No, no! No-can-do."

"Just hear me out. We got jobs today and we'll be paid in full after two months. If you give us that long, we'll pay up."

"With interest. If you take that long to pay me for last month, you'll owe three months. I'm not sure I can trust you that much."

"Aw, c'mon Benny," Roger cooed, making a pout. "Please?"

Benny rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. How could I resist: with that face?" He turned away, shuddering. "Tell Mark I came by."

"I'll tell him you've been good," said Mimi with a laugh.

"He won't believe you."

"I'll vouch," added Roger with a smile.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Roger stood and picked it up quickly. "Hello? Yes, this is Roger Davis…. Yes, I…. Oh God! No, no, I'm coming, right away…. Yes, thank you!" He threw the phone down, nearly knocking it off the table. He jumped up and started to throw on his coat.

"Who was that?" Mimi asked, wide-eyed.

"The hospital. Mark's been…" He swallowed, shaking his head. "He's been raped and mugged."

"Holy shit!" cried Benny who'd been halfway out the door.

"We need to get to the hospital…fast!"

"I'll drive," whispered Benny.

Roger could hardly be restrained from entering Mark's room, even though the doctors advised him not to.

"Fuck you! I'm goin' in, whether you like it or not. So, you might as well open the door yourself. Or would you rather I bust it down?"

"Uhh…no, sir… We'd rather…"

"Shut up and get out of my way!"

Mimi took his arm, tugging gently at it. "C'mon Roger, calm down…"

He shook her hand away and charged into the room. Behind him, following quickly, were Collins, Mimi, and Benny. Collins hadn't left Mark's side until they'd reached the hospital, at which point the doctors told him to stay out of the room.

Roger stopped cold, his eyes drooping sadly as he watched the gentle rise and fall of Mark's thin chest with each heavy breath. His face was bandaged and needles were stuck in every place where veins were prominent. Tubes of blood ran around and over him like an amusement park roller coaster, and a heart monitor to Mark's right-hand side showed his erratic heartbeat. The tension mounted as Collins flicked on Mark's camera, which was, amazingly enough, still working.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Roger asked, raising his voice towards Collins and pushing the camera down. "You wanna film him in this way? Turn the damn thing off!"

"Roger," Collins tried to reason, raising the camera again, "On the way here, Mark said only a few things to me, and one of those was, 'film'. He wants this filmed. Don't ask me why, but he wants it."

"He said that?" Roger turned back to face Mark and nearly leapt to his bedside, looking down at his pale face, bruised and bloodied. "Geez, pal… What did they do to you?"

Collins placed a hand on Roger's shoulder gently, placing his free hand over the microphone of the camera. "There were about four or five guys – big and muscular – walking out of the alley as I walked by. Roger, they were huge. Look at Mark! He's young and lithe…. They could've easily killed him…" He filmed freely again.

Roger felt tears swell up in his eyes and he tried to blink them away, but that only made it worse. "Shit…. Why did they have to choose you, Mark? Mark: who's never done anything wrong to anyone, who's always been there for me, and who's always given for others first…. Damn it! Why you?"

Mimi took a seat on the opposite side of Mark's bed and stroked his arm tenderly. "Aw, geez, babe…"

"Where are these guys?" asked Roger, anger rising in his voice, as he turned to glare into the camera.

"I've notified the police –"

"—Shitheads…"

"—But they haven't found the guys yet. Besides, we'd need Mark to ID them, and he's… Well…." Collins let his voice trail off, not wanting to finish that thought.

At that moment, two doctors walked in. One, a tall, thin man with short, blonde hair and blue eyes, carried a clipboard and smiled. The other, a shorter dark-haired woman with a medium-built figure, walked freely beside him and went immediately to check the heart monitor.

Roger eyed both of them suspiciously, but decided against speaking up at this moment. All he could do was wait, anyway.

"Are any of you his immediate family?" asked the male doctor.

"No, but I'm as close as you'll find around here," whispered Roger. "I'm his roommate, Roger."

"Well, all right then, Roger. Will you come this way, please?" He gestured outside the room.

"Yeah, sure." Roger sighed, giving one last fleeting glance to Mark before walking out of the room with the doctor.

Once they were in the hallway, they continued to walk in silence until they reached an empty room. The doctor motioned for Roger to go inside, and Roger obeyed.

"So, is there a problem, Doctor?"

"Well, yes."

Roger swallowed. "What is it? Is Mark okay?"

"He should be fine."

Roger's eyes narrowed. "Then what's the problem?"

"We don't have an insurance card from him or from the man who brought him in. I'm assuming he doesn't have insurance…?"

Roger stepped up angrily to the doctor, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket. "Look, doctor, it doesn't matter if he does or doesn't. He needs help, and you're going to help him! He's my best friend! Please, just help him!" He shook the man a few times, restlessly.

"It's okay, son, I'm not going to not help him. Calm down." The doctor removed Roger's hands and brushed himself off. "However, we cannot help without charging you for it. And I'm not sure you can pay…"

"I'll pay. Just help him and – God help me – I'll find a way!"

The doctor nodded. "I'll need confirmation of some sort of payment within a half an hour, Roger."

"Half an hour…. Okay."

"You don't have to call them, Roger," whispered Mimi as she placed her hand on his shoulder tenderly. "I can find the money. I just need to—"

"—To work yourself haggard. No thanks. I'll call."

Roger took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly, as he picked up the pay phone, inserting loose change in the form of thirty-five cents. He dialed carefully and slowly, almost as if he'd forgotten the number. A few moments passed and there was an answer on the other line.

"Hello?" came the voice of a forty-something woman.

"H-Hi…." Roger stammered.

"What can I do for you?"

"I…I…um… Mom?" His voice cracked slightly.

For a few seconds there was silence on the other end of the phone before she caught her breath to answer. "Roger?"

"Yeah."

"Oh Roger! How are things? How's the band going?"

Roger sighed. "We broke up about five months ago."

"Oh… Well, how's that girl…April was it?"

He held back a cold retort; he remembered distinctly telling her what'd happened with April. "We broke up too."

"Oh, that's right."

"I'm with Mimi now, mom…."

"Oh…"

"Anyway, that's not why I called." He took a breath, preparing himself. "I need some money."

"Oh…" She sounded disappointed.

"It's not for me…. It's for Mark. He's sick and doesn't have insurance. I can't afford to pay…not yet, anyway. But, I'll pay you back in two months, I swear it!"

"Why don't you ask Mark's mother to pay?" she asked, almost coldly.

"He wouldn't want that. You can't understand this, but please, if you care at all about my well-being, you'll send me money – and fast."

"Oh, honey, I do care. It's just –"

"Don't bother using excuses, mom. Thanks, anyway."

"No, wait. Don't hang up, Roger. Let me –"

"Bye."

"Roger, please –"

The click of the receiver covered up whatever last words his mother had intended to say and Roger stomped away, angrily.

"I guess that was a definite 'no', huh?" asked Mimi quietly, following him.

"Yeah. She can go to –"

"Don't say it, Roger. You won't mean it."

He sighed, leaning against the wall to stop and think. "Why didn't I just ask Benny? I'm sure he'll pay…"

She nodded swiftly, agreeing. "I'm sure he will."

Benny appeared from around the corner, shrugging. "It's already taken care of, guys."

Roger looked over at Benny and, for the first time since the old roommate days, he felt a sincere quality pouring from him, almost radiating from his soul. He wasn't all that bad, was he?

Roger lowered his eyes and stepped quickly to Benny, embracing him tightly. "God, Benny, thank you…. I know Mark'll thank you, too."

Benny smiled, slapping his back friendly. "I'm sure he will, Roger."

Roger held him tightly, feeling a sense of comfort in this man who'd just an hour ago still been a mortal enemy. The sensitive pressure of Benny's arms around him made him feel safe at that moment. It was as if Benny didn't care about the rent, Allison, or money at all at this moment – all he cared about was Mark and Roger. Wasn't that what their friendship had been at the earliest stages?

"Thank you…" he whispered again.

Benny laughed lightly, attempting to joke, pushing Roger away. "Take it easy, tiger. I'm not Collins."

The corners of Roger's mouth lifted slightly.