Notes: I really don't know where I'm going with this. So you know.
The feeble, tired sounding cough coming from behind Roger's closed door made me wince and curl closer to Collins who just stroked my hair. He has this way of making you feel like nothing's wrong, even at times like this. And even if it only lasts a second. We could hear Mimi consoling Roger in a low voice. Gentle. Not at all like the voice she used the night she left.
"No, Roger. I'm sick of hearing it. Just because you want to sit around and wait to die doesn't mean I'm going to!"
"Fuck you."
"That's not gonna work, Rog. It's not good enough." Apparently she had heard an apology and not Roger's usual stand-offish tone. He only used it when he knew he was wrong but was too proud to admit it. "This is fucking stupid. I can't even go out for one fucking night without you throwing a goddamn hissy fit because I'm not here sulking with you. And because I don't let you run around feeling sorry for yourself like your wife does." She shot me a malevolent glare like this was somehow my fault. I make excuses for him sometimes, sure, but that doesn't make this my fault.
"Don't drag him into this. This is between you and me, Mimi."
"I'm not dragging him into this. He's been in it."
What the hell? All I had been doing was sitting in my own damn room, playing with my damn camera and staying the hell out of the line of fire. But I should have known that it didn't matter how much I tried to avoid it, I was always brought up in their arguments. I'm pretty sure everyone knew why but Roger. And if he did know, he certainly didn't seem to.
"Fuck you, man. It's not his fault you're a cheating bitch. It's not mine either. And it's not my fault that you can't fucking stop putting shit in your veins long enough to notice that—"He stopped talking and went into another coughing fit. I started to get up to try to help, but thought better of it and just sighed instead. She didn't even do anything. She used his break in talking to jump in with another counter attack. Bitch. I hated that he let her get him so worked up. Especially now that he was starting to get sick.
"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you tell me how to live my life. At least I live mine. I'm out of here. And I'm not fucking coming back, either."
I heard the door slam and I was going to just sit there and wait for Roger to calm down. But he was still coughing. Shit. I peeked around the corner before I went out all the way just to be safe, though.
"Rog?"
"Leave me alone, Mark."
More coughing.
"Are you okay? Do you need some water or something?"
"If I fucking needed something, I would get it myself. Leave me the fuck alone, Mark!" He wiped the corner of his mouth and then wiped it on his pants. I knew he hoped I hadn't seen the blood I'd seen. I didn't say anything for a moment.
"If you do need something, please come get me? I'll leave my door open."
Why did I always have to plead with him to take care of himself?
"Just go away."
He sounded so tired. He looked it too. I didn't want to go away. Too many people in his life had 'just gone away'. I didn't want to be one of them. I refused to be one of them. I did, however, do as he asked and slunk off to my room.
For a long time he didn't move. I could just see his legs hanging over our couch -- the couch. Whatever. I could see a little bit of his legs from where I was sitting on my bed and he just sat there for a long time. I don't think he moved until it dawned on him that Mimi had just left him, probably for good, and when he did move, he stormed into his room and slammed the door. I still jumped even though I knew it was coming. I'm deathly afraid of loud noises. I'll get into that later.