Title: The Pain I Feel Is Only Temporary
Pairing: Mark/Maureen, Roger/April
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Mark and April have a conversation about her reasons for going to the hospital and her relationship with Roger. A young Mimi is introduced. It's pretty much a lot of conversation, but it's long. (Twelve flippin' pages!) At least that's something.
Disclaimer: One day, I'll be a gazillionaire and I'll not only own these boys, but I'll own Donald Trump, as well. That's right. The Donald. He'll still own the rights to his trademark phrase, but I'll come up with something more catchy like, "You're $#ing terminated. Now, go home." But until that day comes, I'm pretty much broke and own nothing. I have like twenty bucks, so if you'd like to contribute to my 'Help Brittany buy RENT and the Mark, Roger, and Donald' fund it will be greatly appreciated. So, for now all I can tell you is I don't own these characters or the fantastic show they're from.
A/N: I would like to apologize in advance, before you begin, for the crappiness of this chapter. It's a lot of dialogue but, hey, if you're into that sorta stuff then go ahead and enjoy. It's like an all you can eat buffet of Mark/April/Benny/Mimi dialogue. :)
Chapter 4: I'm sorry, mother
I sit on the sofa, legs crossed, a cigarette in one hand and a ballpoint pen in the other. Staring down at the notepad resting on my lap, I bring the cigarette up slowly up to my lips and sigh gently. Roger's words still continue to echo in my mind an hour later. I know I shouldn't let it bother me, because he doesn't mean it, but for some reason it does. Those few words stung more than any blow he's ever given me. Than any action he's ever committed just to harm me.
"You can't accept the fact that someone does care about you. That I do, Mark. I do. You're just too wrapped up in your fucking filming to notice."
I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the thoughts that pollute my mind, and continue to stare down at the blank sheet below me.
"How much do I fucking suck right now?" I roll my eyes. "I can't even get one line written."
Taking the cigarette within my hand I position it between my lips, as I set the pen against the yellow paper underneath, and attempt to write something. Anything.
I stay in that same position for minutes, ignoring the built up ash that continues to fall onto my body.
"Fuck. What is wrong with me? I can't think." My thoughts are spoken into the empty air. This lack of inspiration is beginning to disgust me. Why the hell, did I ever decide to do this shit?
"I give up." I groan moments later, throwing my head back against the couch underneath me. "I fucking give up."
Irritated, I put the cigarette out on the table in front of me. It'll leave a nasty mark, but it's not like anyone would notice, or care much for that matter.
Taking my glasses off, I rub my tired eyes, and slowly began to let them travel along the room. It's about three in the morning and the lights are off, but I know enough to know that this place looks like shit. Not that it isn't. I won't deny that, but it could look better if it was clean. Hell, what do I care? It's not like I'll be staying here much longer.
I place my glasses back onto my face and rest my head against the sofa edge. Closing my eyes, I attempt to bring to mind something to write. Something that isn't complete shit.
"Mark." The feeling of someone roughly shaking my left shoulder breaks me from my unconscious.
I groan and slowly open my eyes. April's standing in front of me, phone in hand.
"What?" I say irritated.
"It's for you." She hands it to me and I grab it holding it to my closely to my chest, so that the person on the line can't hear us talking.
"What time is it?" I say between yawns.
"I don't know, like 5:30." She shrugs. I must have fallen asleep.
"Fuck, it's early."
"I know, and you're lucky, I answered it. You know he…" she stops and points towards Roger's bedroom door "would have been pissed if it woke him up."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I say, rolling my eyes at her.
"You wouldn't be saying that when he was kicking your ass." She laughs.
"Well, I wouldn't count on that." I reply smugly.
"Hah, you think he co—"
"Who is it?" I interrupt.
"Huh, what? Oh, it's Maureen."
She smirks at me and climbs on the nearest sofa cushion. I roll my eyes at her actions as she turns on the TV, giving the room an ounce of light.
"Hello?" I utter a little too quickly.
"Hello? Hello? Anyone there?" Maureen must not have heard me.
"Yeah?" I say, a little more unhurriedly this time.
"Mark?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"Mark!" She yells and I wince. "I've been looking for you all night! I thought you said we were going out?"
"We were." Shit. I had forgotten to call her.
"Well, why weren't you there? You said you'd meet me at the bar at eight." She pouts.
"It's just some things happened and I couldn't make it." This was partly true. "I'm so sorry, Mo."
"It's ok." She sighs, trying to make me feel guilty. It works.
"Maureen, I wanna make it up to you. What can I do?"
"Mark, jus—"
"I'll take you out tonight. We'll go to that club that you've been wanting to go to."
"Mark, please."
"I feel like such shit for doing that to you, Mo."
"I forgive you, pookie." She giggles, obviously enjoying my submission. "But, uh, why aren't you at Benny's?" Shit, I have to call him, too.
"Oh, well, I sorta got the shit beat out of me," I laugh slightly, "and passed out on the way there."
"Oh my god! Are you ok?" I smile at the thought of her being concerned with my well-being. At least someone is.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I lost all my shit, though." I pause. "Rog found me and just said I could stay here for the night."
"Well, that's good. At least you're ok."
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm going to let you get some rest, babe. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Of course. I'll call Benny later and let him know I'm here."
I hang up the phone and place it on the stack of papers beside me. I sigh heavily and look over at April. The light from the TV. flickers on her face. Her blonde curls are pulled back into a messy bun and she's still wearing the clothes from yesterday.
I wonder if Roger's asked her to move in yet. He had told me he was going to ask her once I left, but it was more of a threat, though, than an actual statement. He had gotten pissed at me when I told him he'd regret me leaving. He told me to fuck off, that he'd have April live with him, and he didn't need me. He keeps doing that. Claiming he never needs me, but yet he's always asking me to come back and I do. I keep going back to him.
"What'd she want?" April says her eyes never leaving the TV screen.
"To bitch at me for forgetting to meet her." I say, pushing a hand through my hair.
"Yeah, and you just sat there and took it."
"Whatever." I say reaching for another cigarette.
"You're so fucking whipped, Mark."
I shake my head and she smirks at me.
"You know you are."
"Shut up, April." I say, while attempting to light the cigarette within my hand. "You don't even know what you're talking about."
"Oh, Maureen, I'll do whatever you want. Anything you ask, Mo, I'll do it. I'd fuck my best friend if it made you happy, baby." She mocks.
"You're such an ass." I say while releasing a puff of smoke.
"No, you are." She grins, pulling the cigarette from my lips. "That's such a dirty habit, Mark."
"Give it back." I reach out trying to grab it.
"Nope. You need to quit. I don't need you getting lung cancer on me." She says, putting the cigarette out.
"I'm sorry, mother." I reply and her playful expression suddenly changes.
She looks away and I watch her start to gradually rise off the couch. She sighs heavily, signaling that something's wrong.
"Was it something I said? April?"
She ignores me and begins to walk away with her head lowered to the floor.
"Damnit, April. What's wrong?" I say irritated. I hate it when she pulls this shit with me.
"It's nothing." She turns around and smiles. It's painfully fake.
"Come here." I say patting the seat cushion next to me.
"I'm just tired, Mark. I'm going to bed."
"You're a terrible liar, April. I can't believe you think you can't tell me."
"Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Mark?" I watch her reach for the doorknob and begin to turn it. The small amount of light from the television flickers off the handle.
"Well, seeing as you're my best friend's girlfriend and if you're upset, he'll be upset and if he's upset he'll take it out on me, it is my business."
"I..."
"April, you can tell me." I sigh.
"It's nothing. You wouldn't want to hear it anyway. So, I'll talk to you tomorrow." She says opening the door. The sound of Roger's heavy snoring fills the room.
"Come on, April. When have I ever not listened to you?"
We remain in our positions for a few minutes, neither of us moving or saying a word until I look away, pretending to lose interest.
"Fine." She sighs in defeat and I turn my head around and watch her walk, slowly, over to the sofa, taking a seat next to me. She quickly begins to fidget with her blonde hair, her eyes stare straight ahead, and her brow is furrowed in thought.
"Mark, do you know what I want more than anything in the world?" She begins after a moment of this.
"What?" I say watching the light from the TV spread a glow along her pale face.
"To be with Roger."
"But April, uh, you are with Roger." I laugh, not understanding what she means.
"Not really, Mark." She closes her eyes and releases a gentle sigh.
"I don't...I don't get it." I say, shaking my head.
"He's just not there, Mark. Physically, he is, but mentally it's almost like he's tuned me out."
"April, yo--"
"You know, I'm right, Mark." She says, cutting me off. "You've seen it. He's gone all night..." April pauses. "Probably with whatever whore he can find." She lets out a disgusted snort at the thought.
"April, like he would..."
"Mark, I've found shit in his room that he can't explain. When I ask he freaks out and says it's not his. I believe him. I do, but he won't tell me who it belongs to."
"What?" I say in disbelief.
"I've found syringes, new and old...even heroin. You know, he actually tried to tell me that it was fucking sugar. Does he think I'm stupid?"
"Are you serious?" I try to sound shocked, hoping she'll believe I am.
Shit, he said he hid it. He said he would fucking hide it from her, so she wouldn't have to know. April doesn't need to be a part of that. She deserves so much better.
I can't fucking believe him. Why hasn't he told me she knew?
"Mark, do you know? Do you know whose it is?" I close my, fearing if she looks at me I won't be able to keep this secret from her. All I can do is shake my head.
"I think, I bet, it's someone's from the band, Mark. I mean, Roger, he wouldn't do that shit. He knows better than that and, I know, you are too much of a prude to even think about using."
I only nod, not knowing what to say to her. I want to tell her the truth, but for some reason I can't.
"Mark, he'll come over at these insane times and won't speak to me and..." She pauses, "he won't even look at me. It's like he's guilty or something...and he knows it."
"April, I think you're just overreacting."
"Mark, he..."
I put my hand on her shoulder and give a small squeeze, trying to reassure her. "April, he wouldn't cheat. Believe me."
"But I don't want to take that chance, Mark. I love him. I really do. If I lost him, I don't know what I'd do."
"And he feels the same way, April." I say trying to comfort her.
"Mark, I want to have his baby." She whispers, refusing to meet my gaze.
"What!" I shout, in disbelief, and she cringes.
"Mark, it's the only way he'll stay with me."
"Are you fucking crazy, April! What are you thinking! Are you even thinking?" I can't believe she said that.
"Well, you---"
"He can't even fucking take care of himself. Hell, you can barely do it, April. You're young still; you don't need to have a child to keep him." I say. My voice rises with every word spoken. I can't let her do something this stupid.
"Mark, you don't---"
"I can't believe..." I say, shaking my head. She's too young for this and Roger, hell, the thought of him as a father to anything at this moment sickens me. The drugs. The drugs are too important to him right now for him to stop and worry about another life around him.
"Well, Mark you don't have to fucking worry about it. I'm not pregnant and I can't fucking get pregnant." She shouts angrily.
"What?"
"I can't get pregnant, Mark." Her voice lowers dramatically.
"What'd you mean? Why not?"
"I don't know. I don't fucking know." April says, shaking her head slowly.
"Did the doctors tell you this?" I say concerned.
"Well, no, but I've tried Mark. I've been trying for months. I haven't taken my birth control in, I don't know how long, and we haven't used a condom since we first had sex."
I cringe, not really wanting to know that.
"I don't understand why this isn't working." She says with a puzzled expression.
"April..." I can't think of anything to say, all I can do is hope that she'll know how much I care.
"I thought I was finally pregnant, Mark." Her blue eyes stare into my own.
"Yeah?"
She nods, "I've been throwing up for at least a week now, that's what woke me up this morning. I thought, that maybe, possibly it could have been morning sickness and you don't know how happy I was, Mark." She laughs and wipes her eyes. "Can you imagine? Someone being happy about being woken up at four in the morning to throw up." She shakes her head.
I smile weakly at her and pull my glasses off to clean them.
"Well, that's what my doctor's appointment was for. I thought...I hoped I was pregnant, but…" She lets out a small sigh, "I wasn't."
"April..."
"It's ok, Mark."
"Maybe it's just the flu?" I shrug.
"I don't know Mark."
I reach out to hug her and she returns the gesture. "If there's anything I can do…" I whisper into her ear. "Let me know.
"Thanks Mark." We release each other at the same time and she smiles slightly. I watch her as she begins to climb off the couch. "Well, I'm going to bed."
"Goodnight." I say with a yawn.
"Good morning" She replies. "Look."
I didn't realize it had become daylight. The once dark room was now filled with a soft yellow glow. I pick up my fallen legal pad off the floor and pen besides it. Maybe, now that I'm slightly rested I can think of something for this script.
"Mark..." Her voice 'causes me to stop my actions and look up at her.
"Yeah?"
"Can you believe they actually wanted me to take an HIV test?" She laughs, almost forced. "I mean, come on! How in the hell would I have HIV? They're fucking crazy in there."
"Yeah, they are." I say slightly puzzled that she brought this up. "So, what'd you say?"
She shrugs. "I told them I'd do it. What's the worst that can happen?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what'd Roger say? Did he get one?" I say, suddenly wondering if he ever shares needles with other junkies.
"No. He doesn't know. He was already pissed, because I made him come with me, and I think if I asked him to even think about having a needle shoved in his arm he'd storm out."
"Yeah, but I bet it if was filled with heroin he'd fucking jump at the chance."
"How long do you have to wait before you get the results?" I say, curiously.
"I'm not sure. I think a few months."
"Oh." I say, while staring down at my still empty notebook.
"Well, I'll talk to you later, Mark."
"Ok."
"Hey, Mark…"
"Huh?"
"Remember to call Benny."
"Oh, yeah. Thanks."
"No problem, Cohen."
Once I hear the door close, I reach down for the phone and dial Benny's number. It's early, but I think he's up getting ready for work now. I'm slightly amazed at Benny's growing work ethic.
The phone rings for a few, before he finally answers.
"Hello?" He says sounding rather groggy. Shit, maybe he doesn't have work today.
"Hey. Did I wake you up?"
"No, but who is this?"
"It's me. Mark. You dumbass." I laugh.
"Shit, where were you last night!" He shouts into the receiver. Damn, why is everyone doing that?
"It's a long story," I sigh. I'm not really in the mood to re-tell the story or hear the assortment of questions I'll get when I do. "…but I just wanted you to know I'm back at the loft."
"Well, are you still staying there or coming to live with me? What's the deal?" He sounds rather irritated, but I would be, too.
"I'm really not sure. Roger got pissed at me last night and demanded that I leave, but you know how he can be."
"Yeah."
"I just keep feeling like I shouldn't leave him here alone. You know?"
"He won't be alone. He's got April there, right?"
"I'm not sure, but I think she knows, or at least will know soon and when she does I'm not so sure that she'll be willing to stay with him"
"Wait…knows what?"
"The drugs, Benny."
"Oh. He's still using?" He says sounding somewhat shocked.
"Yeah. He won't quit. I've offered to get him help, but you know how stubborn he can be."
"Well, what are you going to do?"
"I'm not really sure. I don't think there's anything I can do."
"I understand, man. It's gotta be hard to have to deal with that shit. I don't understand why you don't leave his ass, though."
"Yeah." I sigh. "Sometimes, I don't even understand it, but when I figure out what I'm going to do, I'll let you know."
"Ok." He pauses. "Hey, Mark what are you doing tonight?"
"Uh…"
"'Cause, you know, I just found out about this new club right around where you live."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, it's some sort of S&M shit. It could be cool. It's like five blocks away." It's evident he's trying to convince me and himself at the same time.
"Do we have to wear all leather?" I ask, partly as a joke, but mostly because I'd like to know and I'm not in the mood to go somewhere where I'm going to sweat to death.
He laughs. "I doubt it, man. So do you wanna go?"
"I might, Benny. I have to go out with Maureen later tonight, though."
"What are you guys supposed to be doing?" He questions.
"Going to this club she's been bugging me to take her to for the past week." I shrug then realize he can't see me do it. "Hey…" I think for a moment. "What the name of that place you were talking about?"
"Cat Scratch…something…"
"The Cat Scratch Club?"
"Yeah, that's it! Have you been there?"
"No, but that's the place Maureen's been talking about. That where we're going tonight."
"Well, man, maybe I'll see you guys there."
"Yeah."
"Ok, well Mark, I gotta go. I have to be to work in fifteen."
"Ok. Talk to you la---" He hangs up before I can finish.
Hanging up the phone, I place it on the table in front of me. Maybe going to this Cat Scratch bullshit is just what I need. Who knows? Maybe I'll get some crazy burst of inspiration and come up with this award winning script, which will then turn into an award winning film. Ok, now I'm really starting to bullshit myself. I need to keep thinking of something.
I once again pick up my ever-blank notepad and pen. But I toss it back down just as quickly, when I hear a soft knock on the door. Reluctantly I push myself off the couch; I walk over, quickly opening it.
A young girl stands, timidly, in front of me in the darkened hallway. She looks young, about fourteen or fifteen. She shifts uncomfortably and runs her small hand through her seemingly endless curls.
"Yeah?" I say after a few moments of this awkward silence, slightly annoyed and restless.
"Uh, well, uh…Hi." She flashes a quick smile at me.
"Hi? What'd you need?" I say, hoping to get rid of this girl as soon as possible. The sooner she leaves the sooner I can finish, well start, working.
"I was wondering...if you had a phone I could use." She says uneasily. She shifts from one foot to the next.
"Yeah." I sigh. "It's right over there." I point to the floor and she walks in hesitantly. I soon follow.
"Thanks." She says, as I take my seat back on the sofa.
"No problem."
I look over at her as her brow furrows in thought; obviously trying to remember the number she's attempting to dial. Her face doesn't look familiar to me. I try to think back to remember if I've ever seen her around her, but nothing comes to mind. She must be new.
"I'm Mimi, by the way." She says putting the phone up to her ear and smiling towards me.
"Mark." I reply. Then turn away again once she re-focuses on her phone conversation.
She's finishes about five minutes later, placing the phone, carefully, back where she got it.
"Thanks, a lot." She smiles gently and genuinely at me.
"No problem." I try to return the same.
"I was going to use the payphone outside, but I'm sorta…well broke." She continues and begins to fidget with a stray curl, wrapping it around her pinky.
"Oh. Same here." I say tapping my fingers against the sofa arm.
"Well, I suppose I should be going now." She smiles uneasily, attempting to break the growing tension in the room.
"Yeah." I reply. I can't think of anything else to say.
"Yeah, well, nice to meet you, Mark." She shrugs.
"You too." I smile weakly, watching her walk towards the door.
"Hey..." I say stopping her in her tracks.
"Yeah?"
"By any chance do you happen to know where that new bar is?"
"What new bar?" A puzzled expression overtakes her face. The Cat Scratch Club?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, Mark, you happen to be in luck." She smiles somewhat mischievously. "Today...just happens to be my first day."
A/N #2: Guess what? I don't like this chapter, at all. (I do like the chapter's title, though, because it makes me think of that Eminem song and that MadTV sketch.) Isn't it awful? It's nothing, but shitty dialogue. I'm sorry, guys. I think in my next chapter no one will be able to talk at all.
Maybe I need to get all this dialogue out before I can get some nice narration going on. Maybe…
Well, I suppose the next chapter shall be about twenty times better. I at least hope so.
I haven't really felt like writing anything in Mark's P.O.V. lately, well within those last few months, because well my Mark's duller than dirt. You know he is. Don't even try to deny it.
Roger, on the other hand, is much more enjoyable to write, because he's actually a little more complex than poor old Mark. Maybe when my Mark goes out with Maureen, in that future chapter, things will be more interesting. hint
Ok, I'm done babbling.