Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my love for Rent (and Adam Pascal
who was Roger in the original cast). It all belongs to Jonathan Larson,
whom I wish I had the chance to meet, but I will one day and I will be in
my bliss. At the risk of sounding terribly clichéd: No day but today!
*
Mark awoke a few days later to the sound of someone whimpering. He arose and roamed around the loft looking for the source.
"Roger?" he called, softly.
The whimpering continued and Mark followed it into the bathroom. Mark leaned against the doorframe and gently knocked on the closed door. "Roger? Are you in there?"
Roger didn't reply, but sniffed loudly instead. Mark sighed and pushed open the door. His eyes widened before he rushed across the tiny bathroom to his best friend's side.
There was Roger, sitting in the tub, a razor blade in his right hand, blooding gushing from his left wrist. There were drops of blood all in the tub and on his flannel pajama bottoms.
Mark grabbed a towel. "Good God, Roger."
Roger rested his head on Mark's shoulder and whimpered yet again. "I'm so sorry, Mark."
Mark shushed him. "It's okay! It's only once."
Roger broke down and began sobbing. Mark lifted the bloody towel and he sighed softly as he saw the letters M-I-M-I on his arm, beginning to turn red with a new blood flow.
Roger's chest heaved with every other breath as he sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Mark, and it's not okay. I should know better by now, but, God, Mark it felt so good. It never lost its adrenaline rush."
Mark began to gently stroke Roger's hair in a maternal manner. Mark had come to the conclusion that whenever Roger lost a loved one, you had to treat him like a little boy. He was looking for that extra protection from someone who really cared. And Mark really cared, in more ways than one.
"And you're an adrenaline junkie, I know, Roger, I've heard it all before. We made it through that time, we can make it through this time, too."
"It's not going to be as simple, Mark."
"It wasn't simple before!"
"I know, but," Roger sighed, deeply. "I miss her so much and I feel so alone."
"April or Mimi?"
"Both. I should have listened Mimi. You really can't control your destiny."
"I've been telling you this for years, Roger, even more so when April let us know that you both had AIDS and it took a beautiful stranger, with a love for life needing you to light her candle and to take her out to tell you this, and you start believing it?"
Roger nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
Mark, in response, just stared at Roger, who stared back. After a moment, Roger began giggling and it was apparent: Roger had said that for comic relief. Since when did Roger Davis get a sense of humor when times were so grave? Mark couldn't recall, so instead of straining himself to remember, he just laughed with his best friend.
Once they had caught their breath, Roger looked at the ceiling while Mark fixed his self-inflicted wound.
"What are you thinking about?" Mark asked.
"How long I'll stay in the house this time." Roger smiled.
Mark smiled in return. "How about just a month this time?"
Roger chuckled. "We'll talk about that, but I really loved Mimi, possibly more than I did April. This one is going to be harder."
"But why are you joking and laughing, then?"
"Because I know if the roles were reversed, Mimi would try to get her mind off of it by joking."
"I don't think she would stay in the house, though. She'd continue on with her credo."
Roger sighed. "That's what made us so different, Mark. We complemented each other well. And now that she's gone, it feels like no one cares. I feel empty and alone."
Mark sighed. This was so difficult; to flatter him, convince him about what Mimi would want, listen to him repeat how much he loved her and April. Like he would never love Mark, and Mark knew it, which is why, right about now he felt like breaking down and crying and shouting, "God Roger! Are you stupid? I LOVE YOU! It's so obvious! I am in love with you! I always have been."
But instead, he placed his friend's arm between them as he finished and said, "You're not alone, Roger."
Roger lightly brushed his fingertips across Mimi's name and smiled faintly and gratefully. "I know, Mark."
*
A/N: Three words for you: Writer's . . .Block . . .HELP! Yup I have no idea what to make chapter four about so e-mail me with your ideas. I hope you liked these chapters. Check out my other stuff, perhaps you'll find an interest in that too. But I need reviews to determine whether or not I continue. I'm particularly fond of this chapter. I think it's cute. Give me your opinion! XoX! ~ Bri!
*
Mark awoke a few days later to the sound of someone whimpering. He arose and roamed around the loft looking for the source.
"Roger?" he called, softly.
The whimpering continued and Mark followed it into the bathroom. Mark leaned against the doorframe and gently knocked on the closed door. "Roger? Are you in there?"
Roger didn't reply, but sniffed loudly instead. Mark sighed and pushed open the door. His eyes widened before he rushed across the tiny bathroom to his best friend's side.
There was Roger, sitting in the tub, a razor blade in his right hand, blooding gushing from his left wrist. There were drops of blood all in the tub and on his flannel pajama bottoms.
Mark grabbed a towel. "Good God, Roger."
Roger rested his head on Mark's shoulder and whimpered yet again. "I'm so sorry, Mark."
Mark shushed him. "It's okay! It's only once."
Roger broke down and began sobbing. Mark lifted the bloody towel and he sighed softly as he saw the letters M-I-M-I on his arm, beginning to turn red with a new blood flow.
Roger's chest heaved with every other breath as he sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Mark, and it's not okay. I should know better by now, but, God, Mark it felt so good. It never lost its adrenaline rush."
Mark began to gently stroke Roger's hair in a maternal manner. Mark had come to the conclusion that whenever Roger lost a loved one, you had to treat him like a little boy. He was looking for that extra protection from someone who really cared. And Mark really cared, in more ways than one.
"And you're an adrenaline junkie, I know, Roger, I've heard it all before. We made it through that time, we can make it through this time, too."
"It's not going to be as simple, Mark."
"It wasn't simple before!"
"I know, but," Roger sighed, deeply. "I miss her so much and I feel so alone."
"April or Mimi?"
"Both. I should have listened Mimi. You really can't control your destiny."
"I've been telling you this for years, Roger, even more so when April let us know that you both had AIDS and it took a beautiful stranger, with a love for life needing you to light her candle and to take her out to tell you this, and you start believing it?"
Roger nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
Mark, in response, just stared at Roger, who stared back. After a moment, Roger began giggling and it was apparent: Roger had said that for comic relief. Since when did Roger Davis get a sense of humor when times were so grave? Mark couldn't recall, so instead of straining himself to remember, he just laughed with his best friend.
Once they had caught their breath, Roger looked at the ceiling while Mark fixed his self-inflicted wound.
"What are you thinking about?" Mark asked.
"How long I'll stay in the house this time." Roger smiled.
Mark smiled in return. "How about just a month this time?"
Roger chuckled. "We'll talk about that, but I really loved Mimi, possibly more than I did April. This one is going to be harder."
"But why are you joking and laughing, then?"
"Because I know if the roles were reversed, Mimi would try to get her mind off of it by joking."
"I don't think she would stay in the house, though. She'd continue on with her credo."
Roger sighed. "That's what made us so different, Mark. We complemented each other well. And now that she's gone, it feels like no one cares. I feel empty and alone."
Mark sighed. This was so difficult; to flatter him, convince him about what Mimi would want, listen to him repeat how much he loved her and April. Like he would never love Mark, and Mark knew it, which is why, right about now he felt like breaking down and crying and shouting, "God Roger! Are you stupid? I LOVE YOU! It's so obvious! I am in love with you! I always have been."
But instead, he placed his friend's arm between them as he finished and said, "You're not alone, Roger."
Roger lightly brushed his fingertips across Mimi's name and smiled faintly and gratefully. "I know, Mark."
*
A/N: Three words for you: Writer's . . .Block . . .HELP! Yup I have no idea what to make chapter four about so e-mail me with your ideas. I hope you liked these chapters. Check out my other stuff, perhaps you'll find an interest in that too. But I need reviews to determine whether or not I continue. I'm particularly fond of this chapter. I think it's cute. Give me your opinion! XoX! ~ Bri!