Author's Notes:
I never write these before I write the story. I just don't. But I am tonight, because I have no idea how what I'm going to write is going to turn out. This story has been stuck forever, but Elyse asked me to work on it, so I am, for her. And also, I saw Jeremy Kushnier and Saycon Sangbloh in Aida tonight, which flooded me with the desire to write R/m. Considering how infrequently I'm actually inspired for this story, I don't reckon I should pass on this just because I'm tired.
Chapter 12
By the time I finally came inside, everyone had left. I was thankful for that. My body was starting to tremble like it always did when I came down from a high, and I was in no mood to see or talk to anyone. All I wanted to do was pass out in my bed for the next twelve hours and try to make some sense out of this in the morning.
When I reached my bedroom, I saw Roger sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep. I was surprised--I'd thought he would spend the night in the loft, and the next few days as well. I'd thought the last thing he'd want would be to see me tonight. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I wanted to see him either. His hateful words still rang in my ears, shouting to Benny and the world that he cared nothing for me. Yes, he'd apologized, and yes, I still liked him in spite of myself, but I didn't know if I was up to facing him again tonight.
I tiptoed into the darkened room. I'd grab a blanket from the foot of the bed, then spend the night on the couch. On my way out, that loose board by the dresser creaked, and Roger's eyes flew open.
"Sorry," I whispered, not knowing what else to say. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Hey," he whispered, patting the bed beside him. "Come here for a minute."
I folded the blanket over my arm and sat gingerly on the bed.
Roger placed a tenative hand on my arm. I flinched slightly, and he withdrew his touch. "I'm sorry."
I didn't know if he meant he was sorry for that or for what happened earlier that night or for something I didn't even know about. "It's okay."
"No, it's not okay," he insisted. "I don't know what got into me, Mimi. I'd give anything to take back what I said."
Tears filled my eyes. "You really hurt me, Roger."
"I know," he whispered, placing his hand on my arm again. This time, I didn't pull away. "I don't know how to explain it. I'm not used to having something good in my life."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean whenever something good happens to me, I always find a way to fuck it up," Roger continued. "Sometimes I think I do it on purpose, so I can hurt people before they can hurt me."
"Well, it sure worked this time," I said bitterly. I didn't know why I was being so hard on him. Of course I was still mad, but not as much as earlier. All I felt now was exhaustion, shame, and a funny kind of sadness.
"I know," he repeated. "If you want me to leave, I'll understand."
I shook my head dumbly. "Why would I want you to leave?"
Roger sighed. "Mimi, to be honest, I don't deserve you. Save yourself while you still can."
"Dammit, Roger, stop talking like that!" I exploded. "I'm far from what you'd call perfect."
"You don't understand," he insisted. "I destroy people! I ruined April's life, and I'll ruin yours if you give me the chance!"
"How did you ruin April's life?" I asked. "You've never talked about her since we met."
Roger turned his face away. "Trust me, Mimi. You don't want to hear about that."
"If we can't talk to each other, then what kind of relationship are we going to have?" I demanded.
"All right, fine!" He shouted. "April was a student at NYU. I met her in the Village while I was playing my guitar. She was the sweetest girl I'd ever met, and I never told her I did smack. Then I gave her HIV, and she killed herself." His tearful eyes looked pleadingly at me. "It was all my fault, Mimi."
I moved closer to him and cradled his head in my arms. "I'm so sorry, Roger." I didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say? How could I possibly take away even the tiniest bit of the guilt and anguish that he had to be carrying around?
His body shook as he cried. I held onto him tightly, thinking to myself how fragile and vulnerable he seemed. After a long time, he pulled away and wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed, I think, to have cried like that in front of me.
I slipped my hand into his. "It's all right now, Roger."
He stared at me with pleading eyes. "Promise you won't leave me?"
"I won't leave you," I promised. "Can you get some sleep now?"
He nodded and let me tuck the covers around him. When he was settled in, I curled up next to him and rested my chin on his shoulder. He put his arms around my waist, and we fell asleep together.
I spent the next three weeks without seeing Benny. Then suddenly there he was, waiting outside the Cat Scratch club after closing, just like he did when we were dating. Our eyes met briefly, and I tore my gaze away, fixating on a crack in the sidewalk. "What are you doing here?"
"Mimi, I need to talk to you," he insisted urgently. "Do you have a minute?"
I wrapped my jacket around me. "Benny, there's nothing to say."
"Yes, there is." He moved to grip my arm, then thought better of it. "My behavior was completely out of line. I owe you an apology."
"Do you think you can just apologize and everything's going to be okay again?" I demanded. "If you care at all about me, Benny, then leave me alone. Please."
"Mimi, I feel like hell about that night," Benny continued. "And about what I said to Roger."
"Yeah, you should." I turned around and started walking away. He caught up with me quickly.
"Mimi," he pleaded. "I don't know what to say to show you how sorry I am."
I stared ahead and continued walking. Benny continued to follow me, all the way back to the apartment building. I stopped outside the front door, afraid Roger would see us together and assume the worst.
"All right, Benny," I sighed. "What's it going to take to get you out of here?"
"Mimi, I still care about you," he said quietly. "I hate knowing that I've done this to you."
He looked like a little boy when he said that, strangely like how Roger had the night when he told me about April. Yes, he'd been an ass, but I knew he cared about me, and I knew he was sorry. April couldn't tell Roger she forgave him, but I could tell Benny.
"It's all right, Benny," I said quietly, stroking the sleeve of his leather jacket. "It's okay. I forgive you."
"Oh, Mimi." He wrapped his arms around me. "Mimi, I'm so sorry."
"I know, Benny," I whispered. "It's okay."
He kissed me when he let me go, a light, friendly peck on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
I managed a small smile. "I will."
When I got upstairs, I found Roger in my apartment, throwing items of his clothing into a laundry bag. "Roger, baby, didn't we just do our wash on Sunday?"
"I know," he answered, throwing in another shirt. "I'm sleeping up in the loft tonight. Don't wait up for me."
"Roger, what are you talking about?" I asked. "What brought this about?"
"I saw you with Benny!" He shouted. "What did you let him do to you?"
"We didn't do anything!" I yelled back. "Why don't you trust me?"
"Why should I?" He demanded. "How long has this been going on?"
I collapsed into a chair and pressed my palms to my forehead. "Roger, I'm really not in the mood for this."
He shrugged. "Then far be it from me to drag it out." He slung his bag over his shoulder and strode out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
I never write these before I write the story. I just don't. But I am tonight, because I have no idea how what I'm going to write is going to turn out. This story has been stuck forever, but Elyse asked me to work on it, so I am, for her. And also, I saw Jeremy Kushnier and Saycon Sangbloh in Aida tonight, which flooded me with the desire to write R/m. Considering how infrequently I'm actually inspired for this story, I don't reckon I should pass on this just because I'm tired.
Chapter 12
By the time I finally came inside, everyone had left. I was thankful for that. My body was starting to tremble like it always did when I came down from a high, and I was in no mood to see or talk to anyone. All I wanted to do was pass out in my bed for the next twelve hours and try to make some sense out of this in the morning.
When I reached my bedroom, I saw Roger sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep. I was surprised--I'd thought he would spend the night in the loft, and the next few days as well. I'd thought the last thing he'd want would be to see me tonight. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I wanted to see him either. His hateful words still rang in my ears, shouting to Benny and the world that he cared nothing for me. Yes, he'd apologized, and yes, I still liked him in spite of myself, but I didn't know if I was up to facing him again tonight.
I tiptoed into the darkened room. I'd grab a blanket from the foot of the bed, then spend the night on the couch. On my way out, that loose board by the dresser creaked, and Roger's eyes flew open.
"Sorry," I whispered, not knowing what else to say. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Hey," he whispered, patting the bed beside him. "Come here for a minute."
I folded the blanket over my arm and sat gingerly on the bed.
Roger placed a tenative hand on my arm. I flinched slightly, and he withdrew his touch. "I'm sorry."
I didn't know if he meant he was sorry for that or for what happened earlier that night or for something I didn't even know about. "It's okay."
"No, it's not okay," he insisted. "I don't know what got into me, Mimi. I'd give anything to take back what I said."
Tears filled my eyes. "You really hurt me, Roger."
"I know," he whispered, placing his hand on my arm again. This time, I didn't pull away. "I don't know how to explain it. I'm not used to having something good in my life."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean whenever something good happens to me, I always find a way to fuck it up," Roger continued. "Sometimes I think I do it on purpose, so I can hurt people before they can hurt me."
"Well, it sure worked this time," I said bitterly. I didn't know why I was being so hard on him. Of course I was still mad, but not as much as earlier. All I felt now was exhaustion, shame, and a funny kind of sadness.
"I know," he repeated. "If you want me to leave, I'll understand."
I shook my head dumbly. "Why would I want you to leave?"
Roger sighed. "Mimi, to be honest, I don't deserve you. Save yourself while you still can."
"Dammit, Roger, stop talking like that!" I exploded. "I'm far from what you'd call perfect."
"You don't understand," he insisted. "I destroy people! I ruined April's life, and I'll ruin yours if you give me the chance!"
"How did you ruin April's life?" I asked. "You've never talked about her since we met."
Roger turned his face away. "Trust me, Mimi. You don't want to hear about that."
"If we can't talk to each other, then what kind of relationship are we going to have?" I demanded.
"All right, fine!" He shouted. "April was a student at NYU. I met her in the Village while I was playing my guitar. She was the sweetest girl I'd ever met, and I never told her I did smack. Then I gave her HIV, and she killed herself." His tearful eyes looked pleadingly at me. "It was all my fault, Mimi."
I moved closer to him and cradled his head in my arms. "I'm so sorry, Roger." I didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say? How could I possibly take away even the tiniest bit of the guilt and anguish that he had to be carrying around?
His body shook as he cried. I held onto him tightly, thinking to myself how fragile and vulnerable he seemed. After a long time, he pulled away and wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed, I think, to have cried like that in front of me.
I slipped my hand into his. "It's all right now, Roger."
He stared at me with pleading eyes. "Promise you won't leave me?"
"I won't leave you," I promised. "Can you get some sleep now?"
He nodded and let me tuck the covers around him. When he was settled in, I curled up next to him and rested my chin on his shoulder. He put his arms around my waist, and we fell asleep together.
I spent the next three weeks without seeing Benny. Then suddenly there he was, waiting outside the Cat Scratch club after closing, just like he did when we were dating. Our eyes met briefly, and I tore my gaze away, fixating on a crack in the sidewalk. "What are you doing here?"
"Mimi, I need to talk to you," he insisted urgently. "Do you have a minute?"
I wrapped my jacket around me. "Benny, there's nothing to say."
"Yes, there is." He moved to grip my arm, then thought better of it. "My behavior was completely out of line. I owe you an apology."
"Do you think you can just apologize and everything's going to be okay again?" I demanded. "If you care at all about me, Benny, then leave me alone. Please."
"Mimi, I feel like hell about that night," Benny continued. "And about what I said to Roger."
"Yeah, you should." I turned around and started walking away. He caught up with me quickly.
"Mimi," he pleaded. "I don't know what to say to show you how sorry I am."
I stared ahead and continued walking. Benny continued to follow me, all the way back to the apartment building. I stopped outside the front door, afraid Roger would see us together and assume the worst.
"All right, Benny," I sighed. "What's it going to take to get you out of here?"
"Mimi, I still care about you," he said quietly. "I hate knowing that I've done this to you."
He looked like a little boy when he said that, strangely like how Roger had the night when he told me about April. Yes, he'd been an ass, but I knew he cared about me, and I knew he was sorry. April couldn't tell Roger she forgave him, but I could tell Benny.
"It's all right, Benny," I said quietly, stroking the sleeve of his leather jacket. "It's okay. I forgive you."
"Oh, Mimi." He wrapped his arms around me. "Mimi, I'm so sorry."
"I know, Benny," I whispered. "It's okay."
He kissed me when he let me go, a light, friendly peck on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
I managed a small smile. "I will."
When I got upstairs, I found Roger in my apartment, throwing items of his clothing into a laundry bag. "Roger, baby, didn't we just do our wash on Sunday?"
"I know," he answered, throwing in another shirt. "I'm sleeping up in the loft tonight. Don't wait up for me."
"Roger, what are you talking about?" I asked. "What brought this about?"
"I saw you with Benny!" He shouted. "What did you let him do to you?"
"We didn't do anything!" I yelled back. "Why don't you trust me?"
"Why should I?" He demanded. "How long has this been going on?"
I collapsed into a chair and pressed my palms to my forehead. "Roger, I'm really not in the mood for this."
He shrugged. "Then far be it from me to drag it out." He slung his bag over his shoulder and strode out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.