Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Notes: I know my updates on this thing are kind of sporadic.. but I really only write when I have nothing else to do that seems interesting or I have a project due that I'm postponing. I apologize for this and urge you all to keep reviewing my junk regardless of this fact. I also urge you to email my yahoo account (in my profile) and keep me entertained and inspired. I love you all! Thank you for reading my crap, it keeps me going.

IIIII

"Marky.. I need to ask you something."

"Sure, what is it, Rog?"

A very nervous looking Roger took a seat beside his best friend. He kept a fair distance between them and his fingertips traced his forearms like he always did when something was bothering him.

"Okay, well, what would you think if I told you that I finally found, well, The One. You know, that stupid person that I couldn't live without."

Mark quirked a brow.

"I would ask you if you were high, first of all."

He bit his lip and looked up quickly.

"You're not, are you?"

Roger sounded extremely offended and furrowed his brow.

"No!"

He threw his hands up, scoffing.

"Fuck it. I figured I could at least talk to you about this without getting laughed at. I was being fucking serious. But forget it."

Roger started to leave but Mark, looking sincerely apologetic grabbed both of his wrists and pulled him back onto the couch.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Come here, talk to me."

Mark had his hands on top of Roger's resting on the musician's knees. Roger showed even more distress when he pulled away from Mark and scooted even farther away than he had been before. Mark moved closer but kept his hands to himself.

"What's wrong?"

"You didn't answer my question. What would you say?"

"Er, congratulations, I guess. But do is she really The One? I mean.. that's a big position to fill in your case. They'd have to feed you, clean you, take you out to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Remind you to take your meds. It's a big job."

Roger shifted and mumbled.

"Well, you would know."

Ouch.

"Yes, I would. Not what it's like to be The One, but to do all those menial chores, yeah."

"Her name's Mimi."

All hope Mark had held onto all this time fell away from him in that instant. His content expression hitched for a moment, but he was able to keep it in place.

"That's a nice name."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You don't have to get defensive, I was just asking."

"Why would anything be wrong?"

"Because you have the kicked puppy face and you said she has a nice name. A nice name, Mark. You didn't ask what she's like or what she looks like or even if she's got a nice rack."

Mark looked annoyed and upset but quirked a brow and in his driest voice asked.

"Does she have a nice rack?"

He held his blank expression when Roger replied.

"As a matter of fact, she does."

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and looked expectantly at Roger.

"Well?"

"She lives downstairs, she dances at the Cat Scratch, she has really curly dark brown hair and the most gorgeous, inspiring eyes I've ever seen."

"What color are they?"

"Chocolate brown. So pretty. I could go on about them for days."

Roger got that dreamy look and Mark was instantly ashamed of his blue eyes.

Apparently, Roger detected what was wrong.

"Look, Mark.. don't be upset."

He opened his mouth to protest, but Roger silenced him by putting his finger to Mark's lips.

"I know what you're thinking but, Marky.. we said it was over before April—"He cleared his throat and continued. "Please don't be upset. Because I know you'll sit and be upset over this and hide in your room for days and ignore me and pretend I don't ex—Don't say anything. Please? Just.. let me be happy? Because I am right now. For the first time since April.. you know. So just.. let me go."

Everything Mark would have said to win him back was shot down in one fell swoop and he knew it was useless. He heaved a sigh, shaking his head and worrying at his lower lip. His gaze remained locked on the suddenly intriguing floor and his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose slightly.

Roger wrapped one hand around the back of Mark's neck and with the other fixed his glasses. Mark looked up at Roger, silently begging him to fall out of love with this beautiful, exotic Mimi and back into it with him—if he ever was in love. Roger looked first ashamed and then away.

A small kiss was delivered from Roger's lips to Mark's. It was short, chaste and apologetic. Mark's instincts kicked and he realized this might be the last chance he got and he wrapped both his arms around Roger's neck and caught his lips just as he was pulling away.

There was a moment of muffled protest from Roger, but it was silenced after a moment. In that moment, an unspoken conversation happened in which Mark begged Roger to if not stay, at least not go and Roger begged Mark to let him go but at the same time apologized for his decision. A few seconds later, Roger tasted something salty in his mouth and pulled back, holding his friend's face in his hands.

Mark was crying.

It was silent and lacked shame and ceased the moment Roger pulled back. All that was left were the streaks on his face. He knew Roger felt bad deep down.

With one deep breath, Mark composed himself and looked Roger in the eye.

"The true test of love is wanting the one you love to be happy no matter what." He looked pained, but continued, "Even if it's not with you. And I do love you. So I want you to be happy. No matter what. Even if it's not with me."

"Would you hate me if I asked you to meet her tonight?"

"I could never hate you."

Mark stood and rather gracefully made his way into his room. He sat at the windowsill and pressed his forehead to the cold glass of the window and looked outside. He cursed the happy couples walking below and each pretty girl that walked by. He cursed the appeal and the curves that they had and he lacked. The appeal and curves that had lured away the only two people he'd ever given his heart to. It was then, looking up at the clouds that hung the threat of snow quite literally over his head that Mark decided that he was better off alone than cursed to have his heart broken again and again because he became easily attached.

IIIII

I smile recalling this conversation. Not because Roger and Mimi eventually broke up, but because I realized that no matter how devastating something seems at the time it happens, in hindsight it seems insignificant because by the time you look at it in hindsight, things have righted themselves.