[Author notes- I can't really describe this little story,
just read it. I would like to thank
Joshua Kobak and Matt Caplan for breaking my writers block in Milwaukee,
Wisconsin last week, although they will never know how much this meant to me I
am extremely grateful. This goes to
Rachael for pestering me to write and for being a great friend. I don't own any of these characters, but I
apologize to anyone I offend with my characterization.]
"Mark Cohen, right? You can go in
and see him now," The tall brunette woman replied, before turning heel and
briskly walking in the opposite direction, her shoes clanging on the wooden
floor as she disappeared. Watching her
retreating figure, Mark focused past her navy blue business suit glancing into
the room behind her. Wringing his hands
in his lap, he gingerly rose from the chair willing his feet to move
forward. Suddenly feeling very warm, he
shrugged off his jacket- placing it over top his forearm before taking baby
steps towards the doorway.
Keeping his eyes on the creamy white carpet, Mark
hugged his arms around himself telling himself that it was bound to happen
eventually. His shoes thudded beneath
his feet- he moved faster until he reached the carpet at the entrance way
before once again barely moving. 'Walk, Mark.
Come on- you can do this. Just
walk. One foot in front of the other-
it's really easy in fact, you can do this. Twenty more steps…walk- fifteen more
steps…only ten more- don't fucking chicken out- five more. There! You made it.' Taking a deep breath,
he tried to unsuccessfully control his shaking hands. Slowly letting his eyes scan upward, Mark looked across the shiny
ebony coffin attempting to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He cursed himself for not being brave enough
to handle this- hell, he knew that it would happen- know one could beat AIDS,
not even Roger Davis. Everyone in
Mark's life had to die eventually- he just didn't know how much more loss he
could take.
Looking at Roger's serene face, Mark couldn't
believe he was gone. No more friendly
banter in the loft at 3 in the morning over who ate the last of the Captain
Crunch. No more staying up all hours of
the night discussing their hopes and dreams, along with their latest love
woes. No one to understand Mark, even
more than Mark knew himself. No more
encouragement for his stupid films- or someone to tell them they were
incredible despite his insecurities. No
songs to be played on an out of tune guitar at all hours of the day- no one to
call his best friend -no…Roger. Instead
of being dressed in a suit or nice clothes, Roger was clothed in his favorite
ripped t-shirt and plaid pants. The
funeral home had protested at home at the thought of sending a 'nice young man'
to meet his maker in 'grungy pieces of garbage', but Mark had insisted- it was
what Roger would have wanted. They were
getting paid- by Benny in fact- why the hell did they care what they buried a
random person in. In the distance, an
organ began to play and Mark silently hoped the funeral director took his
suggestions and played some old ACDC, Roger's favorite, during the service.
Turning away momentarily, Mark retreated to grab a
chair from one of the rows before taking a seat beside the coffin. Placing his
head in his hands, a sob engulfed his body as he finally came to terms to the
fact that Roger was dead. It was all so damn strange-no Roger…If Roger was with
him, Mark would be teased and called a 'girly man' for showing his emotions-
but fuck, he had lost his only true friend he had left- he was allowed to be
upset. A few minutes past and Mark
managed to quit crying after a little bit.
Leaning forward on his chair, he rested his chin on his arms on the side
of the coffin peering within. Sighing
deeply he quietly began to speak, "Hey Man- I know you can't hear me, but I
need to say some things…for me- for you-," he takes a deep breath, " …for
closure. Everyone will be here in a
couple of hours, and you know how I hate big groups. This is the only time I'll be able to really spend any time alone
with you, before Mimi arrives and I, uh…yea- I- damn Roger, I fucking miss you
so damn much already…"
[This story was posted
before I got it back from a beta- so I apologize for all the little grammar
problems. I got really impatient,
because I wanted feedback before I continued so I posted it. Now go review?]
