Chapter 8

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A/N: I got this up very fast to tide you over until I can update again! So enjoy and wish me luck on exams! ::cries::

Also, a gold star goes to anyone who can guess what line in this chapter I shamelessly stole from Friends!

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April rubbed her eyes and pushed the covers off of her, even though it was quite cold in the loft. She turned to Roger, who's back was facing her. He always moved around when he slept. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for April to be woken up in the middle of the night from Roger kicking her in his sleep. There were nights when she got so fed up that she would take her pillow and all the blankets and sleep on her couch. Roger refused to believe he moved around so much in bed, though. He said April talked in her sleep, but she knew it wasn't true.

April sat up and sighed loudly. Roger wouldn't wake up. He always slept late. If he couldn't sleep until his own time, it would take you that long to wake him up. April stared over his shoulder at his face. She didn't understand how a man as kind and sweet as Roger could be so troubled. When he was around his band mates and his friends at gigs, he could be a real jackass, but when it was just him and her, he treated her like a princess.

April leaned over Roger's shoulder and kissed him on the cheek before pulling the blankets over him even more. She stepped out of the bed and looked over her shoulder to see Roger still sleeping in the fetal position. She slid out the door and made her way into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and turned around to see Mark sitting on the couch, staring at the camera he held in his hands.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, a little too loudly.

Mark looked up from his camera. "You okay there?"

"Yes, I just didn't see you there. . ." She sat down at the island facing Mark.

Mark grunted quietly and returned his attention to the camera.

April placed her still full glass of water behind her on the island and examined her fingernails.

"What are you doing up so early?" she asked.

"Uh, I haven't been sleeping well lately." Mark didn't even tear his attention away from the viewfinder.

"Oh, me neither." She stood up hastily and slowly walked over to the couch. She sat down next to Mark on the edge of the cushion.

"What are you doing?"

"Just watching some footage. I'm gonna make a video for Maureen for our anniversary."

"That's cute. How long have you been together?" April's disinterest was clearly evident as her gaze shifted over to the small screen.

"A year coming up." The scene changed to Maureen climbing a tree in the park in the summer, yelling at Mark to 'get his pale Jew ass up that tree with her,' and Mark laughing from behind the camera.

April gave a small smile and continued trying to make conversation. "That's a long time."

"She makes it fun, I guess." Mark laughed a bit as the scene changed again to Maureen dropping her ice cream cone on the pavement and complaining about how the universe has it in for her.

There was a long, awkward silence where the two watched Mark's footage.

"Maureen told me," Mark finally spoke up.

"Oh." She looked down.

"Sorry. How's he taking it?"

"It's not your fault," she shrugged. "He's okay, now. Scared, I guess, but so am I. Can't blame him." April pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, resting her chin on her knees,

"Yeah." Mark never had any particular affinity for April. When they had first met, he liked her. He thought she was really nice, and was just what Roger needed to calm him down some. Instead, he screwed her up, too.

There was another long silence. April's eyes began to tear up and she desperately tried to sniff back her tears. She didn't want to cry in front of Mark. Mark heard her, but didn't look up.

"I'm scared," April quietly said, eyes locked on the camera.

Mark looked over at her and grimaced slightly. He didn't realize he'd have to comfort her, too.

"I know."

"No, you don't. We're gonna die, me and Roger. We're gonna get sick and die, Mark." April's tears started to flow freely.

Mark reluctantly put an arm around April's shoulders. He hated when girls cried around him. it made him feel so weird.

April pulled away quickly and wiped away her tears. "Sorry. I'm probably just depressing you or something."

"No, it's okay." Mark's eyes drifted back to his camera. God, he felt awkward. "You hungry? We still have some stuff left for French toast if you want. . ."

"No thanks. I'm not in the mood for eating, I guess."

"Oh, God, sorry. I didn't even think—"

"No-no-no, it's okay. It's all right." There was another long pause where the two watched Maureen dance around the loft on camera.

"What would you do if you were me?" April looked over to Mark and bit her lip. Mark was silent for a moment, then, his attention still on the camera, replied,

"I guess I'd get clean. Stop it with the drugs. Then I'd just. . .try and live as long as I could, I guess." Mark turned of his camera and set it on the coffee table. He stood up and wandered into the kitchen.

April considered Mark's reply and looked up at him. "What do you mean? You would go into rehab?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied casually, pulling the ingredients out of the fridge.

"Even though you'd have to leave everything behind for a really long time?"

"Sure. I mean, eventually you'll get back and be able to enjoy everything even more and stuff."

Mark was being helpful and he didn't even know it.

"So you'd leave Maureen and Roger and your family and everybody behind for like, half a year?"

"Mmhmm." Mark wasn't even listening anymore. Not that he wasn't interested. He was just hungry.

"Then you'd come back and just go back to life as usual?"

"Yep."

April was silent for a long time, staring off into space. She quickly gathered her bearings and stood up.

"I'm gonna go back to bed." She crept into Roger's bedroom and shut the door behind her.

"G'night."

"Gooooooood morning!" Collins entered the kitchen, dressed in black pants and a maroon sweater.

"Hey. What's up?" Mark asked, plopping his French toast down on the plate he had set out for himself. He moved his pan onto a cold burner.

"Not a whole lot." Collins snuck a bite of Mark's breakfast. "Went out with Noah again last night."

Mark turned around and picked up his toast, noticing there was a large bite out of one of the corners. "Thanks, man. He seems pretty cool."

"He is. He was telling about how interested he was in your filming. Said it sounded really interesting."

"Yeah. What are the odds, eh?" Mark sat down at one of the stools and slowly ate his toast.

"I know. I didn't even know that about him." Collins laughed, grabbing the bowl of Captain Crunch he had just poured for himself and sitting next to Mark.

"Why you up so early?" he asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Stuff's just freaking me out."

"I've been so out of the loop lately. I've been at work for so long, I've got a lot of classes this term. It's pretty brutal." He shook his head.

"Yeah. When does the school year end?" Mark asked.

"April." Collins rolled his eyes. "What stuff's freaking you out?"

Mark wrinkled his nose. He wasn't sure if he should tell Collins everything just yet. He'd wait for Roger to tell him on his own.

"Well, just. . .stuff. Maureen's been acting weird lately."

"Lately?" Collins laughed, throwing a piece of cereal into the air and trying to catch it in his mouth.

"Even more so, then. I dunno. She just disappears and then comes back like nothing's wrong. She doesn't even tell me when she leaves."

"It's Mo. She's crazy. Probably out planning protests or auditioning for shows or throwing pennies into fountains." Collins shrugged and placed his now empty bowl in the sink.

"Yeah, I guess." Collins was right.

'Maureen's a free spirit. Probably doesn't even realize she doesn't tell me where she's going. She means well.'

They continued to talk for about ten minutes, when Benny came strolling into the kitchen.

"Hello, hello, hello," he greeted.

"Hey." Collins stood up and patted Benny on the back, going to sit on the couch. He picked up his nearby bag and pulled out a folder, flipping through it as they talked.

"How're you?" Mark asked.

"Awesome. Saw Mimi again last night."

"Your latest plaything?" Collins asked from the couch.

"Yeah. I want you guys to meet her. I should bring her over sometime when she has the night off."

"What does she do?"

"She's a stripper!" Mark blurted out, laughing. Collins looked up, shocked and wide-eyed at Benny, then immediately burst out laughing, too.

"Guys, she is not! She's a dancer! There's a difference!" Benny tried to defend himself.

"Oh-oh-oh! How about this! She's like, fifteen, too!" Mark continued, and he and Collins, now sitting beside each other on the couch, started to laugh even harder.

"She is not! She's eighteen, and there's a difference! There's a difference!" Even Benny was starting to laugh a bit. He quickly caught himself and smacked the two in their shoulders. "Fuckheads."

Collins stopped laughing with much trouble.

"Sorry," he said trying to catch his breath. Mark was still laughing on his side of the couch.

"I'm sure she's a very nice girl. A very nice girl who takes her clothes off for a living." Collins started to laugh again.

"She doesn't! She dances! She dances!"

Benny threw his arms up in the air and gave up, flopping on the chair.

"Guys, I'm dating a stripper." He started to laugh as he said this. "What the hell am I supposed to tell my parents?!"

"Mom, Dad, I'm dating a stripper."

Benny looked over at Mark and gave him a 'God, you're stupid' look. "Thanks for that. Really."

Collins looked down at his watch and sighed, sniffing back tears from his laughter. "I should go. Gotta finish marking stuff I left in my office. Stripper. . ." he laughed to himself, standing up from the couch.

"Dancer!" Benny and Mark said at the same time. Benny was trying to defend himself again, but Mark was mocking him. Benny responded by throwing the phone that was on the coffee table at him, hitting Mark in the stomach. Mark flopped back onto the couch, playing dead and Benny doubled over laughing.

Collins stood at the door with his backpack over one shoulder and had his hands in his coat pockets, staring at the other two.

"You are both so weird." He shook his head and left the loft, leaving a tearful Mark and Benny behind him.

Benny leaned back and sighed, trying to stop laughing. "So, anyway, what are you up to today?"

Mark sat back up and continued laughing quietly. "I dunno. I should probably get out filming some more."

Mark and Benny continued to talk about nothing in particular when the phone rang. Neither of them wanted to answer it, so they let the machine pick it up.

"You know what to do."

"Hey, uh, Maureen? It's John. From the other night. I just thought I'd call you. . .see how you were doing. . . Uh, anyway, call me."

Mark froze. John? Who the hell was John?

Benny looked over to Mark, a look of shock on his face.

"Who's John?"

"I, uh, don't know," Mark replied. He felt like he was just run over by a bus, and the bus backed up just for fun. "I don't know."

Benny cleared his throat and stood up slowly.

"I should go. . ." He made his way over to the closet, quickly put on his coat and his shoes and picked up his bag from the floor. He took one last look at Mark, who was slumped over on the couch, staring at the wall in front of him. He wasn't even blinking.

"See you later, man." Benny shut the door behind him and Mark was left alone in the living room.

Mark sat on the couch for a long time, thinking. Who was John? Why was he with Maureen the other night? Why did he want to see how she was doing?

Soon, Mark stood up and walked into the kitchen. He took the milk out of the fridge and put it on the counter. He looked at it, then put it back in the fridge. He didn't know what he was doing or why he was doing it, he just needed something to get his mind of whoever the hell John was. He noticed the small '1' blinking on the answering machine and debated deleting it, but decided against it. He wanted to ask Maureen about this, and unless the message was still there, he'd look crazy for bringing it up. Mark wandered around the loft, eyes still wide with confusion, and a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure how he felt. He wasn't mad or hurt. He wasn't sure what he was.

He wandered back to the couch and flopped down on it. What would he do now? He wanted to ask Maureen about it, but didn't know how.

Almost as if on cue, Maureen shuffled into the living room, covering her mouth as she yawned. She saw Mark and smiled.

"Hey you."

"Hi." Mark continued looking straight ahead.

She plopped herself down on the couch next to Mark and took his hand.

"You okay?"

Mark didn't answer.

"Pookie?" Maureen tried to turn Mark's face to hers, but he wouldn't let her. "Mark, what is it?"

Mark stole a sideways glance at Maureen and frowned.

"Who's John?"

"What?" Maureen replied slowly.

"There's a message for you from John. Said he wanted to know how you were." Mark finally tore his attention away from the ground and looked up and Maureen, who's eyebrows were raised.

"He's the director. For that play I told you about, remember?" she said quickly.

"No." Right. Like Mark was going to believe that.

"Yeah you do. The Importance of Being Earnest, remember? I told you the day before auditions! My audition was the other day."

Mark faintly remembered something about her talking about trying out for a show, but he couldn't remember if that's what it was. It must have been. Mark studied Maureen's face as she flashed him a small smile. She had to be telling the truth. There was no other explanation. One look into her deep brown eyes and he forgot everything else.

"Remember now?"

"Yeah, I guess. . .Yeah, I do," he nodded. "You should call him back. Maybe you got the part." He smiled at his girlfriend and ran his fingers through her long, dark hair. She jumped up and walked to the kitchen, and pulled open the fridge.

"God, I am SO HUNGRY!" she sighed and laughed. Mark joined her and sat on the island.

"Me, too."

Maureen went on to fix herself a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk, and sat down at the island across from Mark. They continued talking about nothing in particular and made plans for their day.

An alarm went off inside Maureen. Yes, she had auditioned for The Importance of Being Earnest, but John wasn't the director. She didn't even know what John did for a living. Her cover was almost blown. She had to be more careful next time.