Disclaimer: they aren't mine!!!!!! *sniffle*

Authors Note: The chapters will get longer… reviews please!!

Chapter 2: Cover-up

            Mark was yanked from his restless sleep to the sound of the phone ringing. He rolled over, thinking he was still asleep because the phone never rang anymore. But it kept ringing, so Mark grabbed his glasses off of his cluttered floor and stumbled out to answer the phone.

            "Hello?" he said groggily.

            "Mark? Hey! It's Roger."

            "Hey. Haven't seen you around much lately," Mark replied, a little more coldly than he meant to.

            "I've been with Mimi, Mark. She's my girlfriend." Roger sounded a bit dejected at the tone of his friend's voice. Mark softened a little at hearing the dejectedness.

            "I know, Rog. It's just that I really haven't really seen much of anyone lately." Mark heard muttering that sounded something like,

            "Well, if you didn't hide up in there with your camera, you'd see us a lot more."

            "What?" Mark asked, his coldness returning.

            "Uhh… nothing. Hey, why don't you come out, and come to the Life for dinner with us?" Mark pondered this. If he went, he could see all of them, have fun like he used to. But he would have to put up with Maureen and Joanne fighting, and being asked how he was doing. His eyes flickered to his wrist. Maybe he could avoid any suspicion.

            "Sure. When?" he asked.

            "Uh… is 8 good?"

            "Yeah…" Mark answered, and then added quietly as an afterthought, "It's not like I'm doing anything else. See ya then," and hung up the phone. He opened the window of the loft to check the temperature. A typical November city day. Cold enough for a sweater, thank god. He glanced at his wrists again. He really didn't want them asking about it. Not that they would care or anything, but just to be safe. He was in no mood to have to explain himself, to have his friends worrying about him. He didn't need help.

            He walked to the bathroom to take a shower and stepped in a puddle of yesterday's blood.

            Shit, He thought, I gotta clean that up. He cleaned it up, took a shower, and searched the rest of the loft for anymore of his blood. That would be a little too obvious…

            Mark left the loft at 7:30, not wanting them to worry because he was late. He had never been one to be late.

            "Stop it!" he told himself, "Stop worrying so much. They won't notice."