The room was so silent; you could hear a pin drop. Mark was still fiddling
with his camera, refusing to meet anyone's eye, and the others shuffled in
their seats, nervously.
"Well, I'm going to go talk to him," Mimi declared, getting up off the floor.
"Meems, I don't think you should," Maureen said carefully, as she slid off the couch.
"Why not? It's just me. Besides," she said, looking at Mark, "Maybe I can cheer him up."
She walked out of the room, and the group could hear her tapping gently on Roger's door.
"She doesn't understand," muttered Collins, shaking his head. "She didn't know April."
***
"Roger?" Mimi opened the door a crack.
Still in the clothes he'd worn that day, Roger lay on the bed, facing the other wall.
Mimi kneeled on the end of the bed.
"I know it's a shock baby- but can't you ever learn to forgive him? I mean that was a long time ago, right?"
Roger let out a small sigh. He couldn't talk to Mimi about April. She'd never be able to understand.
"Talk to me, Roger?" Mimi said, in a small voice.
Roger closed his eyes, stubbornly.
"Fine." Mimi said, with a tone of hurt in her voice. She got up from the bed and moved towards the door to leave.
Feeling guilty, Roger sat up and was about to call to her, but the door had already shut.
***
Maureen had been waiting outside the door.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
Mimi made a half smile, and shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
"Oh honey, it's alright, it's not you he's mad at." Maureen said gently, wrapping her arms around her.
"I know," Mimi sniffed. "He wouldn't even look at me though."
"Well, we all know how stubborn Roger is, right?"
That brought a small smile.
"I'll talk to him. I'll MAKE him talk."
"Okay," Mimi sighed, and went back into the living room.
***
"Roger? C'mon Roger, cut it out, talk to me."
Great, Roger thought, rolling his eyes. Now Maureen was going to start nagging him.
"Roger, don't be an ass, okay? Mimi didn't do anything; you could at least talk to her. And you've gotta talk to Mark too, you saw the look on his face. He feels bad."
Roger turned to face Maureen. "Mo, did it ever occur to you that Mark was sneaking around with April not only while she and I were a couple, but when you and Mark were a couple too?"
"WHAT?" Maureen practically yelped. She rose to her feet and stormed back into the living room, where Mark, Collins, Joanne and Mimi sat, sullenly.
"You stupid bastard!" she snapped, whacking Mark on the side of the head. "Was this going on while were going out?"
Mark winced in pain and rubbed his head where Maureen had hit him. Nervously, he started turning the camera over in his hands.
"Put the goddamn camera down, Mark!" she exclaimed, shoving it aside.
"Honeybear," Joanne said, softly, seeing the pained look on Mark's face.
"Not NOW, Pookie. Talk to me Mark. What happened?"
Mark retrieved his camera from the floor and lifted his eyes to meet Maureen's furious glare.
"I can't talk to you," he said quietly, meaning 'I can't talk to YOU about it.'
"Fine," she said angrily, "Will you talk to Roger at least, then?"
"Yes. When he's ready."
Maureen let out a disgusted 'HMMPH!' and plopped back down beside Joanne.
"You guys don't understand," Mark whispered, "You don't know what was going on here at the time."
"Well, obviously not," Maureen scoffed, "Apparently there's a lot we didn't know about."
"Give him a break," Mimi said softly, sitting down beside Mark and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Can't you see that he's sorry?"
Mark looked at Mimi, puzzled at why she was being so forgiving. Then it occurred to him that she'd never known how close Roger and April had been, how much they'd meant to each other.
"It's alright, Meems," he mumbled, pushing her arm away gently. "I'll talk to Roger when he's ready."
"Well, he certainly isn't ready now," Maureen snapped, haughtily. "But somehow, I don't feel like waiting around here until he is. If I was him, I'd probably never talk to you again. Pookie, let's go."
Sighing, Joanne rose to her feet and stared for the door.
"You wanna sleep at our place tonight, Meems? We've got a pull out couch. I don't think Roger's going to be talking to ANYONE anytime soon."
Helplessly, Mimi glanced back over at Mark, and then to Roger's closed bedroom door.
"Fine," she said, giving up. She stood to grab some clothes to sleep in before she left.
Collins sat down beside Mark, and waved the three of them out.
"Mark," he sighed, placing a hand on his knee. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Collins, April wasn't happy being with Roger that winter. He was always out, trying out with his band to book a gig, and he barely had time to spend with her. Whenever he actually came home, he'd just collapse on the couch, exhausted. You were living here at that time, don't you remember?"
"I was rarely here either,' Collins admitted.
"Well, sometime around Halloween, we were both here, waiting for Roger to come home. We were supposed to some early Halloween party down at the Life Café. Well- Roger never came home. And one thing led to another," he sighed. "No matter how I tell the story, I'm going to end up the bad guy either way, right?"
"Mark, I KNOW you. I know you wouldn't do something to deliberately hurt Roger. He probably knows that too. But he loved April so much. And he thought that she had loved him back the same way." He took off his classes and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt.
"I guess I'll just camp out in here tonight," Mark sighed, unrolling an old blanket from the base of the couch.
Collins smiled sympathetically. "Maybe he'll want to talk in the morning." He stood to his feet. "I'll see you tomorrow. It'll work out. You'll see."
"I guess," Mark said, not believing it though.
Collins left, and Mark chucked off his shoes and put his glasses aside, and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
***
"Mark?"
Mark opened his eyes. He winced when the morning light flashed at him. He rubbed his eyes, and grabbed his glasses, sliding them over his nose.
"Mark, I want you out of the apartment today."
"What???" Mark sat up.
"You heard me. I don't want you here anymore."
Roger sighed, his fender grasped tightly in his left hand. "Why, Mark? I thought I could trust you."
"Let me just explain," Mark pleaded, rising to his feet.
"No," Roger shook his head. "There's nothing to explain. You lied to me. BOTH of you lied to me. I thought April loved me." He swiped angrily at his eye, angry at himself for almost upsetting himself to tears.
"She did love you," Mark croaked, "If you'd only listen."
"NO, Mark. I've made up my mind." He turned to face the wall. "I want you to get your stuff out of here by this afternoon. Stay with Collins, or camp out in the hallway. I don't give a shit either way." His eyes drifted over to a picture of April, leaning against the little reading lamp beside the couch. Mimi had never liked the fact that he'd kept the picture. It'd made her feel uncomfortable. Now Roger felt the same way. Emotionlessly, Roger turned the picture facedown. He couldn't gather up the courage to just get rid of it. Not yet.
"I'm going out," he muttered, slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder.
Mark watched him walk toward the door, helplessly.
He slammed the door behind him.
It was over in a second, but the sound of the door slamming rang in Mark's head long after Roger was gone.
"Well, I'm going to go talk to him," Mimi declared, getting up off the floor.
"Meems, I don't think you should," Maureen said carefully, as she slid off the couch.
"Why not? It's just me. Besides," she said, looking at Mark, "Maybe I can cheer him up."
She walked out of the room, and the group could hear her tapping gently on Roger's door.
"She doesn't understand," muttered Collins, shaking his head. "She didn't know April."
***
"Roger?" Mimi opened the door a crack.
Still in the clothes he'd worn that day, Roger lay on the bed, facing the other wall.
Mimi kneeled on the end of the bed.
"I know it's a shock baby- but can't you ever learn to forgive him? I mean that was a long time ago, right?"
Roger let out a small sigh. He couldn't talk to Mimi about April. She'd never be able to understand.
"Talk to me, Roger?" Mimi said, in a small voice.
Roger closed his eyes, stubbornly.
"Fine." Mimi said, with a tone of hurt in her voice. She got up from the bed and moved towards the door to leave.
Feeling guilty, Roger sat up and was about to call to her, but the door had already shut.
***
Maureen had been waiting outside the door.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
Mimi made a half smile, and shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
"Oh honey, it's alright, it's not you he's mad at." Maureen said gently, wrapping her arms around her.
"I know," Mimi sniffed. "He wouldn't even look at me though."
"Well, we all know how stubborn Roger is, right?"
That brought a small smile.
"I'll talk to him. I'll MAKE him talk."
"Okay," Mimi sighed, and went back into the living room.
***
"Roger? C'mon Roger, cut it out, talk to me."
Great, Roger thought, rolling his eyes. Now Maureen was going to start nagging him.
"Roger, don't be an ass, okay? Mimi didn't do anything; you could at least talk to her. And you've gotta talk to Mark too, you saw the look on his face. He feels bad."
Roger turned to face Maureen. "Mo, did it ever occur to you that Mark was sneaking around with April not only while she and I were a couple, but when you and Mark were a couple too?"
"WHAT?" Maureen practically yelped. She rose to her feet and stormed back into the living room, where Mark, Collins, Joanne and Mimi sat, sullenly.
"You stupid bastard!" she snapped, whacking Mark on the side of the head. "Was this going on while were going out?"
Mark winced in pain and rubbed his head where Maureen had hit him. Nervously, he started turning the camera over in his hands.
"Put the goddamn camera down, Mark!" she exclaimed, shoving it aside.
"Honeybear," Joanne said, softly, seeing the pained look on Mark's face.
"Not NOW, Pookie. Talk to me Mark. What happened?"
Mark retrieved his camera from the floor and lifted his eyes to meet Maureen's furious glare.
"I can't talk to you," he said quietly, meaning 'I can't talk to YOU about it.'
"Fine," she said angrily, "Will you talk to Roger at least, then?"
"Yes. When he's ready."
Maureen let out a disgusted 'HMMPH!' and plopped back down beside Joanne.
"You guys don't understand," Mark whispered, "You don't know what was going on here at the time."
"Well, obviously not," Maureen scoffed, "Apparently there's a lot we didn't know about."
"Give him a break," Mimi said softly, sitting down beside Mark and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Can't you see that he's sorry?"
Mark looked at Mimi, puzzled at why she was being so forgiving. Then it occurred to him that she'd never known how close Roger and April had been, how much they'd meant to each other.
"It's alright, Meems," he mumbled, pushing her arm away gently. "I'll talk to Roger when he's ready."
"Well, he certainly isn't ready now," Maureen snapped, haughtily. "But somehow, I don't feel like waiting around here until he is. If I was him, I'd probably never talk to you again. Pookie, let's go."
Sighing, Joanne rose to her feet and stared for the door.
"You wanna sleep at our place tonight, Meems? We've got a pull out couch. I don't think Roger's going to be talking to ANYONE anytime soon."
Helplessly, Mimi glanced back over at Mark, and then to Roger's closed bedroom door.
"Fine," she said, giving up. She stood to grab some clothes to sleep in before she left.
Collins sat down beside Mark, and waved the three of them out.
"Mark," he sighed, placing a hand on his knee. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Collins, April wasn't happy being with Roger that winter. He was always out, trying out with his band to book a gig, and he barely had time to spend with her. Whenever he actually came home, he'd just collapse on the couch, exhausted. You were living here at that time, don't you remember?"
"I was rarely here either,' Collins admitted.
"Well, sometime around Halloween, we were both here, waiting for Roger to come home. We were supposed to some early Halloween party down at the Life Café. Well- Roger never came home. And one thing led to another," he sighed. "No matter how I tell the story, I'm going to end up the bad guy either way, right?"
"Mark, I KNOW you. I know you wouldn't do something to deliberately hurt Roger. He probably knows that too. But he loved April so much. And he thought that she had loved him back the same way." He took off his classes and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt.
"I guess I'll just camp out in here tonight," Mark sighed, unrolling an old blanket from the base of the couch.
Collins smiled sympathetically. "Maybe he'll want to talk in the morning." He stood to his feet. "I'll see you tomorrow. It'll work out. You'll see."
"I guess," Mark said, not believing it though.
Collins left, and Mark chucked off his shoes and put his glasses aside, and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
***
"Mark?"
Mark opened his eyes. He winced when the morning light flashed at him. He rubbed his eyes, and grabbed his glasses, sliding them over his nose.
"Mark, I want you out of the apartment today."
"What???" Mark sat up.
"You heard me. I don't want you here anymore."
Roger sighed, his fender grasped tightly in his left hand. "Why, Mark? I thought I could trust you."
"Let me just explain," Mark pleaded, rising to his feet.
"No," Roger shook his head. "There's nothing to explain. You lied to me. BOTH of you lied to me. I thought April loved me." He swiped angrily at his eye, angry at himself for almost upsetting himself to tears.
"She did love you," Mark croaked, "If you'd only listen."
"NO, Mark. I've made up my mind." He turned to face the wall. "I want you to get your stuff out of here by this afternoon. Stay with Collins, or camp out in the hallway. I don't give a shit either way." His eyes drifted over to a picture of April, leaning against the little reading lamp beside the couch. Mimi had never liked the fact that he'd kept the picture. It'd made her feel uncomfortable. Now Roger felt the same way. Emotionlessly, Roger turned the picture facedown. He couldn't gather up the courage to just get rid of it. Not yet.
"I'm going out," he muttered, slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder.
Mark watched him walk toward the door, helplessly.
He slammed the door behind him.
It was over in a second, but the sound of the door slamming rang in Mark's head long after Roger was gone.