A/N: There is actually plot development in this chapter. Crazy, I know. Sorry I took so long. Would say that it will be quicker next time, but that tends to curse me, so I won't. Many thanks to Zi, who helped me a ton with this. Thank you to all my reviewers. Please continue to review. It really helps me.
Roger had been living in the loft for about two weeks. However, he was away at band practice as Mark told Collins all about his very first lunch date with Maureen for what Collins guessed was the eleventh time.
"She's so incredible, Collins. Beautiful, talented, exciting. I can't believe she agreed to have lunch with me. I can't believe she agreed to have lunch with me again this Monday! This is so amazing. This kind of stuff never happens to me. If things go well on Monday, I'm going to ask her on a real date. No more letting life pass me by. Do you think I should be paying for her food?"
"No," replied Collins, not looking up from a crossword puzzle. "You're still on a pretty casual level."
"I guess you're right. What if she isn't really interested me? Do you think maybe she was just trying to be nice?"
Collins rolled his eyes and filled in part of the crossword.
"Mark, we've been through this. It sounds to me like she has at least some interest in you, but you'll find out for sure when you ask her on a real date. But take your time with that, and quit being so neurotic. Hey, what's a four-letter dessert item since 1912?"
"I don't know, cake? Actually, I guess cake's older than that."
Just then, the door opened and was slammed shut behind Roger, who appeared to be in a bit of a state.
"Hey, Roger. You're back early," observed Mark, not looking up.
"Practice was cut short by my fist connecting with Jake's face," Roger explained dryly. It was common knowledge that he and Jake, the new drummer, did not exactly get along. However, physical violence was not expected for at least another three weeks. Mark looked up in surprise and saw that Roger had a rather nasty split lip.
"Roger, what happened?" asked Collins, concerned. Roger laughed.
"Don't worry about me. You should see him. Jake was playing too loud, and I told him he was overpowering the rest of us. He said it was probably better that way. So we start yelling at each other, and pretty soon it's an all-out fist fight. I ended up kicking him out of the band. Jered's mad. He knows I'm right, but he and Jake have been friends for a pretty long time. Dave suggested that we take a break for a week or so, and we all agreed that was probably the best thing to do. Maybe we can find a better drummer by then."
"Wow. That was quite an eventful practice," remarked Collins.
"Seriously," agreed Mark. "I guess you'll have to cancel for Thursday. Have you called Rick?"
"I called him," replied Roger. A smile appeared to be tugging on his lips, which looked rather painful, actually, in their injured state.
Mark nodded in approval and was reaching to get the comics from Collins when Roger continued suddenly, "And I got him to give me the Thursday slot for a solo performance." At this point, Roger was unable to suppress an ear-to-ear grin, in spite of the cut on his lip, especially when he saw the looks on Mark's and Collin's faces.
"Congratulations, Roger," said Collins with a smile, the first to process this announcement. He stood up to give Roger a hug, but was beat to the punch by Mark in an uncommon display of excitement.
"Roger, that's amazing!" Mark exclaimed as he let go of his friend.
"I know, I can't believe it either," agreed Roger, exuberant. "I mean, this could really be the start for me. A chance to really be recognized for my own stuff. I should have talked to Rick about doing this sooner."
"Well, you're doing it now. And we've got to make sure people come. Why don't we make some flyers? I got the pictures from last Thursday developed a few days ago. There's some of just you that we could use. They're lying around somewhere in our room."
"Awesome," replied Roger, beaming, and occasionally wincing. "Why don't you got get them and we'll get started."
"Sure thing." Mark rushed into their room. Roger and Collins could hear occasional clanging and cursing from the other side of the wall as Mark searched for the photos. Collins moved the newspaper out of the way and patted the space on the couch next to him, indicating for Roger to sit down. Roger did so, feeling rather awkward. He had the feeling that Collins was about to be serious, and he wasn't sure if this was compatible with his new good mood.
"I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now, without Mark. But that's been pretty hard to do. You seem to have become fast friends," observed Collins in a rather amused tone. Roger fidgeted. "Anyway, I wanted to thank you. For looking out for Mark, taking that job as a bartender. There's something about him that brings out the protective big brother instinct in us all, but you've got to remember that he's not really some naïve puppy." Roger squirmed again, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. "He's stronger than he looks. Inwardly, at least."
Roger was starting to get defensive. "What are you saying? That Mark's a big boy and I should leave him alone?"
Not easily ruffled, Collins' smile only broadened. "Not at all. I'm just saying, don't try to be a hero. Don't worry about Mark because he looks like someone who can't take care of himself, because he can. Just care about him, because he's your friend. Which is what I think you're doing," he added, mostly in response to the very dirty look Roger had begun to give him. Collins laughed. "Look, I just wanted to say 'thank you'. Leave it to a philosophy professor to turn it into a lecture on the hero complex."
Roger was relieved for the laughter that came, giving him an outlet for the nervous energy that had been building up. "It's cool," he replied with a lop-sided grin. Roger was not quite as comfortable with words as Collins, at least not when he didn't have a guitar in his lap.
Fortunately for Roger, no continuance of this conversation was required as Mark returned at that moment with several pictures in his hands. "They were under a book, behind my alarm clock," he explained as he grabbed some paper and Sharpies out of a desk and set them on the table. Roger joined him and Collins returned to his crossword puzzle.
"So are you going to be playing the stuff you've written?" asked Mark.
"Mostly," confirmed Roger. "I'll probably do a couple of covers. But I don't think I'll be doing any hard rock." He grabbed some glue and stuck a picture of himself on the paper.
"What about your lip? Is that cut going to be a problem?"
"I don't think so. It's not so bad, and it should be better by then. It won't really affect my singing very much."
"That's good. You know, I'm thinking," Mark began hesitantly, "I'm thinking that I might ask Maureen—" Roger rolled his eyes and smiled. If Collins had heard the Maureen story eleven times, Roger must have heard it twenty-seven. "—if she wants to come with me to watch you. As our first real date. What do you think?"
"You should ask her," Roger said encouragingly. Mark beamed, writing some details on the flyer.
The phone rang. All three men looked up, eyes on the answering machine.
"Hey, it's the BoHo boys. You can leave a message, but if you have some money, that'd be even better." Beep.
"Dudes, it's Benny, pick up." Collins grabbed the phone and Mark and Roger returned to the manufacture of publicity aids.
"Hey Benny, how are you? We're good. We'll all have headaches from Sharpie fumes soon, but otherwise—Yeah, Mark and Roger are making flyers. You should see them. They're like a couple of kindergarteners at coloring time. Oh, that's right, you haven't heard. Roger's band had a bit of a falling out, so Roger will be giving a solo performance this Thursday. Yeah, isn't it? Are you going to be able to come? Are you sure she won't mind? You could bring her, if you want. True, I don't really see that as being Alison's thing either. Great. Yeah? That's fine. No really, we'll just order Chinese or something tonight. Sure. Don't worry about it; it's not your fault. That'd be fine. Okay, I'll see you later—"
"Wait!" called out Mark and Roger, almost simultaneously.
"Wait!" repeated Collins into the receiver.
"Ask him if he can make some copies of these if we bring them to his office." Mark gestured toward the flyers.
"Did you hear that, Benny? He says that's fine, Mark. Okay, Benny, I'll talk to you later. Bye."
Collins hung up the phone and returned to the couch. "Benny has to meet some clients for dinner tonight; it just came up. So we'll have to go out some other time, maybe tomorrow. However, he will be coming to your performance, Roger. He had a date with Alison lined up, but he's going to reschedule it."
Roger grinned broadly. "That's great."
"It is," agreed Mark, apparently impressed. "They're pretty serious. And Alison doesn't like to be rescheduled. Well, speaking of Benny, let's go ahead and take the flyers to him so we can go ahead and hang up some copies."
"Yeah, okay. Oh, hey, Mark, let's remember to pick up some Oreos while we're out."
"That's it!" cried Collins, scribbling something into his crossword puzzle.
"What it?" asked Roger, confused.
"A dessert item since 1912," Collins explained, looking quite satisfied. Mark laughed, suddenly understanding. Roger, still baffled, looked around at his roommates.
"You guys are crazy."