Roger POV:
No razors. I can't believe it, no razors anywhere. Mark really got them all. I would go out into the kitchen and get a knife but Mark is probably still sitting on the couch and would see me and question me as to what I would be doing with a knife.
The heroin is starting to wear off, I can feel it. And I need to get this over with fast because I won't be able to do it in withdrawal and I used up the last of my smack before.
I hear footsteps approaching the bathroom and I pause, trying to be absolutely silent so that hopefully whoever it is will leave me alone.
"Roger?"
Mark. Of course. I don't know why I thought it would be anyone else. Maybe if I ignore him for long enough he'll go away.
"Roger, what are you doing in there? You've been in the bathroom for over an hour!"
Or maybe not.
"Are you shooting up?"
I remain silent.
"Answer me, Roger!"
I don't say a word. And surprisingly, neither does he. I hear his footsteps retreat as rapidly as they had approached and hear the front door creak open and then some other muffled voices in the other room. I strain to hear who the other person is but I can't make it out.
Suddenly there's another knock on the door and I jump.
"Roger, open up!"
This voice belongs to Collins and sounds much more demanding than when Mark had spoken a few moments ago. But I still don't make a sound, and make no attempt to open the door.
"C'mon Rog, you need to talk to someone…" And then he says in a quieter voice, "I know you called me before."
At this I open the door and let him in, closing it quickly behind him so that Mark doesn't sneak in. I don't want Mark to know that I called Collins because then I would have to explain why I called. And I'm not even ready to admit that to myself yet.
Collins sits down on the edge of the bathtub and folds his arms in his lap, looking as if has all the time in the world.
"How did you know?" I ask quietly.
"Know what?"
"How did you know it was me who called?"
"Caller ID." He pauses, waiting for me to respond and when I don't he continues. "Why did you hang up?"
I look at him strangely. "Don't you mean why did I call?" He's the first person I've called in months, since I started shooting up…the first person I've tried to contact, first person I've willingly sought out all year. I would have expected his reaction to be a little different.
He shakes his head. "No, I mean why did you hang up?"
I sigh. "I didn't want to talk."
"Then why did you call?"
I pause, considering his logic. Why did I call? I know the answer before my mind even has time to process the question. The better question is, do I want to tell him?
I sigh. "When did you first think you had AIDS?"
He looks a little taken aback by my question and gets a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't know, I guess when Jeff told me he had it. Why?"
"Just wondering," I mumble, not even sure myself why I had asked the question. It isn't like I'm going to tell him about me…right?
"Roger…" He lifts my chin so that I'm looking right into his eyes. "Do you have AIDS?"
And then I start crying for no reason at all…or maybe it's because of everything. April, AIDS, drugs, suicide… Everything comes crashing down around me all at once and for one second I let my guard down.
"April left a note…I didn't tell Mark…" is all I can get out before the sobs take over my body.
Collins gets down next to me on the floor and holds me until I regain the strength to continue.
"We got AIDS. That's all it said. We got AIDS." There. It was said, out in the open. I should feel better…then why do I feel even worse?
Collins is silent for a second and I glance up at him. "You have to get tested, Roger."
I shake my head quickly. No, I don't want to get tested. It would make everything real. As long as I don't know for sure, as long as it's not final, I can pretend it's not real, that maybe none of this even happened at all.
"You need to get tested. You have to find out for sure." He pauses. "You know, you may not even have it…"
I give him a look. Yeah right. How many times had I used April's needles? Been too wasted to remember protection? More times than I care to think about. Probably more times that I can even remember considering I'd spent the past few months walking around in a drugged haze.
"I'm not getting tested, Collins."
"Why not?"
"Because it doesn't matter," I answer softly and look away from him.
"What does that mean?"
I pause. It means that it doesn't matter, I'm dying anyway and it doesn't matter if it's from AIDS, suicide, or drugs…I'm dying. And that's all that matters.
He sighs. "Roger, having AIDS isn't a death sentence. It doesn't mean the same thing as it did a few years ago…there's new medicine, new treatment…"
"That I can't afford."
"Because you spend all your money on drugs?" He gives me a pointed look.
I scowl at him.
"Listen, I'm not going to lecture you. I'm sure you've heard enough of those already. But you do need to get tested. And I know you want to, I know you want the help because if you didn't you wouldn't have called me. Will you come with me?"
"Come with you where?" I ask hesitantly.
"To the clinic."
I pause and think it over. Do I really want to know the truth? Can I handle the truth? Even though the back part of my mind already knows that it's true, I don't think I can deal with having that truth confirmed.
"The longer you wait the worse it's going to be."
I think about this for a second. If I went with Collins I would get out of the loft, out of Mark's constant supervision…which means I could see The Man… which means…
"Alright, I'll go."
He raises an eyebrow. "You'll get tested?"
"Yes! Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, but…"
I don't wait for him to finish, I'm already out of the bathroom and practically out the front door before he even has the chance to put on his coat.
"Roger, wait up!" he calls after me as he hurries to catch up. But I don't stop and I don't slow down. My mind is set on getting more smack and nothing or no one is going to stop me. I need to make this go away. I have to numb the pain.
I try to justify to myself that I need to shoot up again so I don't end up slitting my wrists like April. As I race down the street, trying to lose Collins, I try to convince myself that that's the only reason I'm doing it again. I need to take away the pain or that pain will make me do something that I know I'll regret later on.
I finally manage to lose Collins in the crowd of St. Mark's Place. I slow down myself and start looking for The Man, searching in every shadow and alley, desperate to find him before it starts again.
I see a bunch of homeless people all crowded around a tall figure clad in a dark overcoat, shoving each other, pushing the others out of the way in their desperate attempts to obtain their poison.
It is only when I see a short, blonde man with track marks laced up and down both arms, shove some money into my dealers hand that I realize I have no cash. I spent all my drug money long ago and have since resorted to "borrowing" some of Mark's, or selling old appliances that never really worked anyway. But I already sold everything in the loft that's worth anything, besides my guitar and Mark's camera, and I've run out of ways to get the flow I need to keep me out of withdrawal.
I suddenly see Collins walking rapidly down the streets, searching for me in the crowd, and I duck behind a tree so as not to be caught with my dealer.
I consider for a second asking Collins for some money. But, no, he'd know what I want it for. He'd never give me the money.
I sigh and then suddenly I hear someone come up behind me.
"Roger, where the hell have you been?"
I turn around and come face to face with a very angry Collins.
"I, uh…" I try to think of an excuse but, for once, my mind is blank so I simply shift my position so that I'm standing right in front of Collins, hopefully blocking his view of The Man and all the junkies crowded around him.
As soon as I do this he instantly glances over my shoulder in suspicion and when he sees the reason for my coming here he gives me a look. Okay, bad move.
But instead of the anger and shouting I had been expecting he simply looks at me sadly and says, "You're still doing this shit, Roger?" His tone is soft, consoling, in contrast to the harsh words.
When I don't say anything for several seconds he says, "Rog, you gotta stop this. You have to get tested, and you can't keep shooting up. It'll only make things worse."
I shake my head. "No, you don't fucking understand…" I search for the words that would help him understand, to let him know why I have to do this, why there's no other way, but no words exist that can express how much pain I feel, and the loss and guilt that's been haunting me ever since I saw April's dead body in the bathtub that day.
"Okay, you're right. I don't understand. I don't understand why you think shooting up will solve your problems or why you think running is the answer. I do understand what it's like to find out you have AIDS, I understand how you think if you don't get tested you won't have to deal with it, you won't have to face the fact that you're dying. And I also understand that if you keep using and keep wasting your life away like this you'll just die faster. And that the rest of your time spent on this earth will be miserable."
I look at him for a few seconds, just taking in everything he said. I know that Collins knows what it's like. I know that he's been there too so he does understand somewhat. But he has no right to tell me what or what not to do because he's never been a junkie, he's never had a girlfriend – or boyfriend – commit suicide, and he's never had to deal with going through withdrawal and all the other shit that goes along with a heroin addiction.
But I can't help thinking back to earlier this evening when I had called him up, planning on telling him everything and asking for help. Why had I done that? Do I really want that help? I wouldn't have called him if I didn't…right?
I sigh and shift my eyes back and forth from The Man, to Collins, and back again. I shot up a half hour ago, I should be okay for at least another hour. Slowly a plan forms in my mind and I finally let my eyes settle on Collins, saying very softly, "Okay, I'll get tested."
