Yes ladies and gentlemen, after 4 months, I am back and have what is officially my longest and most difficult chapter yet. The bulk of this thing was written in March, but the finishing touches took 3 months to put in. I am really sorry. Now that the summer has started, I'm hoping I won't take so long. I've also realized I have some serious plot continuities which are mostly due to my not knowing what I was doing in the early chapters. I will attempt to fix those. Anyway, you've waited long enough, here is chapter 19.

Chapter 19: The Big Night

Mark, Maureen, Benny and April walked into the club where Roger's band was supposed to be playing that night. They were greeted by the sounds of loud guitars and even louder singing from the band onstage. The lead guitarist threw his head around, letting his long hair fly in every direction. The four watched as the singer ripped his shirt off, exposing his bare, built chest. The music grew louder. Their bodies pulsed with the baseline. They quickly found a table and sat down, steadying the glasses that were shaking; the candle wavered dangerously and Maureen quickly blew it out. People littered the club, drinking, dancing, having a good time. A small group of drunken men were attempting to start a mosh pit at the front of the dance floor. It was a typical club scene.

"We came just in time," Mark said loudly, trying to make his voice heard over the music, "I think this is the band before the Hungarians."

"What are they called?" April asked.

"Vegas, I think," Mark answered.

"Oh, cause they should be called the Eardrum Breakers," she said, her hands over her ears. Maureen nodded, fishing wads of tissues out of her purse and stuffing them in her ears.

"You're just not used to it," Mark said, smiling, "I've been to a lot of the Hungarians practices, they're always this loud."

Benny stole a few tissues from Maureen, "I don't get their name, The Well Hungarians. Where did that come from?"

Maureen rolled her eyes, hitting Benny upside the head, "Think about it. It's a group of four men who are horny and penisy."

"Penisy?" Mark repeated, "Is that even a word?"

"Yes," April said, "It is the word that describes the behaviors of men. They are stupid and smelly and think through their genitals. Therefore they are penisy."

Maureen and April silently hit high fives under the table.

Benny shook his head in wonder, "That makes no sense. But anyway, what does this have to do with their name?"

"Wow you are dense!" Maureen said, "Think about it, Well Hungarians, well hung…"

"Oh!" Benny exclaimed.

"Light bulb!" Mark said miming pulling a chain over Benny's head.

The table erupted in laughter. After a few minutes a waitress hurried over, pulling her dark brown hair back into a messy bun. She wore a white shirt with a watermelon printed on it and sported the words 'bite me' on top, and a black mini-skirt that hugged her thighs.

"What can I get for you guys?" she asked. Her eyes surveyed the group carefully, and she lingered on Benny, who flashed a smile.

"I'll have a Black Russian," Maureen said, crossing her legs so that her skirt crept up her thigh. Several men at the surrounding tables noticed this and waited to see if she'd lift it any higher. It was an internal thing with Maureen, she always had to be the one that people looked at.

"I'll have a martini," Benny asked, watching the waitress carefully, like a tiger eyeing its prey. Already he was interested, it never took Benny long to find someone he liked.

"And you?" she asked, turning to Mark.

"Vodka Gimlet," he said.

April made a face, "Nasty. Slow Gin Fizz please."

"Sure," the waitress said, scribbling down their orders, "You guys here to see the bands?"

"Yeah, her boyfriend is singing with the Well Hungarians," Benny said, indicating April. It was a clever move; since Mark's arm was around Maureen it was obvious they were together and by specifying that April was with someone else, he had just discreetly told her he was single. Which would have been great were he actually single.

The waitress nodded, "I've heard them before. They're great. Well, I'll be right back with your drinks."

She turned on her heel and walked away.

"Benny, eyes off," Mark said reproachfully.

"Off of what?" Benny asked, not looking at him.

"Her ass."

"I'm not looking at her ass!"

"Right, you were admiring her skirt," Maureen said, rolling her eyes.

"What is this, Harass Benny Day?" Benny asked indignantly.

"Oh, something like that," April replied, grinning at him.

Roger stood with his forehead against the wall. He liked the feel of the cold cement against his burning skin; he was convinced he was coming down with something. He was in the dressing room the Hungarians shared, trying to tap into his inner peace, or something like that he had seen on a yoga video Collins had rented. He was also finding that difficult to do, owing to the other band mates making large amounts of noise.

"Has anybody seen my drumsticks?"

"Look in your coat."

"I did."
"Check your bag."

"I did."

"Have you looked up your ass?"

"Oh there they are, thanks for your help."

Deep breaths. Breathe and think. Mindset of the music.

"Jake don't light a joint now!"

"Why not?"

"You won't be able to think about your playing, which is shit already."

"Besides, we're about to go on in a second!"

Think about the lyrics, what do they mean. Ignore those asses, just think about tonight and the show.

"Roger? Have you died?"

Roger snapped out of his trance, "What?"

"It's ok guys, he's alive," Shawn said, still waving his hand in front of Roger's face. Roger wanted very much to bite that hand off, but instead settled for hitting him in the stomach.

"That was nice," Shawn wheezed.

"Leave him alone," Zack said, "He's harnessing his Chi."

Roger gave him the finger and leaned against the wall. Jake took a long drag from his joint then held it out to Roger.

"Need a hit? You look stressed."

"I'm fine," Roger replied, feeling like his head was about to explode. Jake blew the smoke out in his friend's face.

"Suit yourself."

"Hey where are we going after the show?" Zack asked, sitting down in a chair.

There was a quick knock on the door and it opened without waiting for an answer. A man in a headset stuck his head in.

"Five minutes."

The Hungarians nodded a response and went back to their conversation.

"There's a great club called the Cat Scratch, anyone ever been?" Jake said.

Roger raised his hand, "I have. It's good. Lots of hot girls."

"Strippers?" Shawn asked.

Jake nodded.

"Works for me," Zack said, spinning around in the chair.

"So after the show we head straight there." Jake said.

"I may be a little late," Roger said, "I have to meet my girlfriend and friends, they came to see the show."

"Good idea Rog, tell your girlfriend you're going to a strip club," Shawn said, rolling his eyes.

"She doesn't know it's a strip club. Besides, it's not like I'm not allowed to have fun. She knows that."

"That's right Roger! You wear the pants in the relationship!" Zack said, punching the air, which caused him to lose his balance and fall out of the chair. The others stared at him as he tried to keep some of his dignity while he untangled himself from the chair legs.

There was another knock on the door and the same headset man stuck his face in.

"You're on guys."

"Well guys, this is it," Shawn said, helping Zack to his feet.

"Nervous?" Roger asked.

"You wish."

The Hungarians rushed onto the stage just as Vegas was leaving. They all took their respective positions. Jake slid the bass around his neck and tuned it a bit. Shawn played a few muffled beats on his drum set. Roger took a swig of water and cleared his throat before pulling the mike up to his mouth.

"Hey everybody, how you doing tonight?"

He was greeted by many whoops and cheers from the audience. As he waited them out, he scanned the crowd for a sight of his friends.

"We're the Well Hungarians, how many of you already know us?"

Again, there was cheering, and this time he spotted Mark in the back, camera in hand, filming every word he was saying. He shook his head slightly at his friend, but continued to charm the audience.

"Well for those of you who don't know us, hopefully we can turn you guys into fans."

Behind him, Jake rolled his eyes and pointed at his watch.

"Alright well I'll stop talking you guys to death," Roger said, glaring at Jake, "We're gonna start with a song called 'Precious Little Meltdown'."

Shawn struck his sticks together, counting off the beat, and the song began. Roger felt the heat of the lights against his skin and felt the headache he had disappear. This always happened once it came time to perform. He pulled the mike closer and sang.

"I'll put on the coat you want and pretend to rise above
I'll carry the cross you bare and pretend to feel the love

Tell you you're never alone, you're never alone"

Behind him, Jake was screwing up the chords. Zack shot him a look but it was obvious it couldn't be helped. Jake was stoned, and he could never play well then. Roger tried to forget about it and keep singing, but the song was going downhill.

"You want the answers to be in a tongue you understand
You're looking for someone like me to tell you when to throw your hand
What battles to fight, what causes are right"

Silently, a conversation about what to do was taking place, as there was no way Jake could finish the song this way. Shawn continued to play but stole glances at Roger whenever he looked back, clearly saying something had to be done. Zack edged closer to Jake.

"Then I drown in a precious little meltdown
As you fly, riding the truth just like a butterfly
You're all following me, as I follow you all
Take a look and you'll see, that I lied to you all
'Cause this song is all I have"

At this, Roger broke off into a guitar solo. He could hear the cheers from female groupies, but the only thing he paid attention to was his playing and what was happening behind him. Zack had taken off his guitar and was now sliding the bass off Jake. Quickly, he eased him off the stage and put the bass on himself. Roger smiled slightly. He was always impressed at Zack's ability to play any instrumental part. Granted, they'd be missing part of the guitar music, but that was mostly just backing lead guitar. Zack nodded at him and Roger faded back into his own world as the lyrics returned.

"Take all of the air I breathe and you hold it in your hand
Take all that I want to be, it's more than I can stand
Now I'm never alone, I'm never alone"

This was one of the more recent songs Roger had wrote, inspired by a spat he'd had with April over something so minute he couldn't even remember what it was. Their feuds were becoming more frequent now, as Roger was using more often and April was becoming much more obstinate. Whenever they fought, he created a barrier that her words reflected off of so that he'd never have to hear them. In truth, he was just tired of hearing the same thing repeated to him day after day. The same things that he knew in his heart were true. He knew he could open up to her and perhaps together they could work through this, but that would mean making himself vulnerable. And to Roger, vulnerability equals weakness. And weakness is not something that can be associated with Roger Davis.

"Then I drown in a precious little meltdown

As you fly, riding the truth just like a butterfly
You're all following me, as I follow you all

Take a look and you'll see, that I lied to you all
'Cause this song is all I have"

Roger floated down out of his world as the song came to a close, his entire body filled with emotion.

"This song is all I have," he sang, looking right at the spot that he knew April was, watching.

Roger worked his way through the crowd, keeping his eyes on his friends, who were standing by the door. The guys had agreed to pack up the equipment without him as long as he bought the first round of drinks at the Cat Scratch club. Which was a bit more than a small price to pay, considering how short he was on cash, but he figured it was fair because packing up equipment was never fun.

"Roger? What planet are you on?"

Roger jerked his head and his eyes focused on Mark, whose camera was on and rolling.

"Smile!" Mark said, grinning himself.

Roger rolled his eyes and ignored him. April ran forward and flung her arms around his neck, letting out a squeal of happiness.

"You were awesome!" she cried, "I loved your songs, they're so real. What happened with Jake?"

"Long story," Roger replied, kissing her gently. Maureen hurried over from the door and walked into Mark's open arms. Well, arm. The other was supporting the camera.

"Hey Rog, great set! Benny wanted me to tell you 'good job'. He just left, he's totally trashed," she said.

"Shouldn't someone go with him?" Roger asked.

"Someone did," Maureen said, "That waitress,"

April gasped, "What's Alison gonna say?"

"Hopefully she won't find out," Maureen said, shrugging. She was far too used to Benny's tactics by now, "Anyway, good job Roger. I'm telling you though, if you need a female singer…"

"I'll keep it in mind Mo. Thanks."

April slid her arms around her boyfriend's neck, "So, where are we going?"

Roger swallowed, clearing his throat, "Actually, me and the boys were gonna go out to celebrate. You know, since we did so good."

Her face fell slightly.

"Oh. Well, that's ok, I mean… yeah," she brightened suddenly, "Hey, why don't I go with you? You know, hang out with you and the boys."

Roger chewed the inside of his lip, the only sign he was nervous. No one caught it except for Mark, who knew him well enough.

"Well, you wouldn't really like the guys. They're kinda…"

"Penisy," Maureen finished when Roger couldn't seem to find the right word.

He looked at her oddly but decided not to ask, "Anyway, we're going out to go do guy stuff and all that, and it's probably not a place you wanna go."

"Are you going to a strip club or something?" she asked jokingly.

He didn't answer.

She paused, "Roger, are you seriously?"

"Well…" he looked at Mark for support, but his buddy had chosen that moment to examine his camera and was immersed in his task, "It's not really my idea, but you know band guys, they're stupid and-"

"Penisy," Maureen chimed in.

He shot her an annoyed look and she grinned.

"Anyway, I probably won't be out long, and how about I stop by afterwards?"

April listened to him while chewing slowly on her pinkie nail. She looked as if she wasn't sure how to respond.

"But I do want to spend time with you April," Roger said, still trying to talk his way out of this, "it's just, tonight's a night with the guys you know? And I think I'm entitled to that right? I'll take you out tomorrow ok, I promise. We'll go anywhere you want."

She continued to pick at her nail before finally nodding. She could keep arguing if she wanted, but what he said was true, this was a night for the guys. Maybe she was being selfish, trying to keep him all for herself. She glanced at Maureen, who shrugged. Some help she was. Finally, April sighed.

"Alright Roger. Go have fun with your buddies. But I'm holding you to you promise. Tomorrow, you and me, and you're not getting out of it."

Roger grinned, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. He knew he was lucky to have such an understanding girlfriend.

"So, where're you going?"

"This club Jake talked about, the Cat Scratch Club or something like that. I don't know much about it."

Out of the corner of his eye he looked at Mark to see if anything would give him away. Mark tried to look as though he hadn't heard his friend in order to keep from having to say anything. Maureen, for once, kept her mouth shut. Roger didn't know why he had a problem with admitting he'd been there before, but it didn't seem like the right time to announce he frequented strip clubs.

April nodded slowly, "Alright. Call me in the morning."

She had subtly told him she was disappointed in him by ignoring his offer to come over after. Roger fought to keep the guilt from his voice.

"You going home?"

"Yeah," she replied, "I guess I'll head home. It's getting late."

She tried to signal him with her eyes. She was giving him an invitation to earn points and offer to take her home before going to the club. Inside, she was secretly hoping he would and then not leave.

Roger knew it would be the sweet, loving boyfriend thing to do, but he didn't want to make the boys wait. He pondered if he could get her home and then leave right away, or would that make it worse. The moment passed.

"Come on April," Mark offered, "We'll take you home. We can share a cab and then drop you off before we go home. You shouldn't go home alone at this hour."

He glanced at Roger with a bright face, knowing he had gotten his friend out of a tight spot and now he was free to go with the guys. Roger glared at him angrily, startling Mark. He tried to figure out what was going on, but Roger had turned away again, so Mark just put his arm around Maureen and turned towards the exit. They started to leave but Roger grabbed April's arm and they all stopped.

"Don't bother Mark," he said coolly, "I'll take her home."

April looked at him, confused.

"I'm your boyfriend, that's my job."

Her normally bright eyes clouded.

"Your job? What does that mean?" she asked indignantly.

Roger shrugged, "You know, its what a good boyfriend should do."

"Now that's penisy," Maureen muttered.

"It has nothing to do with being a good boyfriend," April snapped, "Anyone with half a brain would know that it's the right thing to do, considering what neighborhood we're in and what time it is."

"Exactly! And I offered to do it! But apparently you don't want me, you want Mark. So why don't just go home with him and give him a nice thank you present. Maybe you guys can have a threesome. If you're into that sort of thing Maureen," he added, finally acknowledging her presence. Mark's eyes widened in shock and pain and Maureen's jaw dropped silently.

April's whole body shook with anger, "how dare you talk to me like that! I have been nothing but loyal to you Roger, and I'm not going to take this. Don't try to turn this on me, this is all about you. Go have fun with your buddies, get drunk, lay in a gutter for all I care!"

"I don't need your permission!" Roger barked, "I do whatever the hell I want and I don't need you to tell me it's ok. Go on April, just go home."

She opened her mouth, ready to retort, but stopped midway. She was sick of arguing and sick of fighting; this wasn't going to get them anywhere. She moved closer to him until their faces were merely inches apart.

"You may think you look tough Roger Davis," she hissed, "but I know better. You don't fool me and don't fool anyone else with your disguise."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out, head held high and proud. Maureen watched her leave in awe but Mark kept his eyes glued on Roger, who was slowly shaking his head. He looked as if he wanted to call her something, but couldn't find a name that was bad enough. His blue eyes were cold as ice and yet burned with a passionate fire that Mark rarely saw. He was a little frightened of that look. Mark bit his lip and glanced at Maureen, who was still staring at the place where April had disappeared. Slowly, he spoke.

"Roger?"

"Just go," he responded, not looking at him.

"Listen, if you want to-"

"Just go Mark!" he said sternly, not quite yelling but with a loud voice.

Mark stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Maureen used the cover of her coat to tug on Mark's arm, urging him to leave. Hesitantly, he turned away and followed his girlfriend outside to find April and go home. He could feel his friend's eyes on him as he walked, but he did not look back.

The song "Precious Little Meltdown" belongs to Adam Pascal. No, I did not write it myself. Normally I don't like taking other people's work, but since it's Adam Pascal and the song was so Roger-like, I figured it was okay. Review just so I know someone's still reading this.