A/N: Hello. I know this took me forever and a day to update, but I was having trouble with this part, and I really haven't been motivated to do much of anything the past few days.

Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad people seem to like it so far. And I know I like to write a lot of dialogue, but that's what I like writing. So, yeah. Again, I own none of the characters from Rent.

Oh! Check out this site! http/elphieandglinda. It's a new Rent message board and um, it's cool and stuff!

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"What's wrong?" Drew asked sensing something, maybe fear, in Roger's voice. Roger just kept his back to him.

"Just go sit down, and don't touch anything."

Drew sat down on the couch and watched as Roger put about 8 band-aids on his finger. He then came over, picked up the scissors and scrubbed the floor with a sponge around where he had been sitting.

"What's going on Roge?" Drew asked, surprised to see Roger actually clean something.

Roger sat down next to his brother on the couch. He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath before looking at Drew.

"I," He started. He was trying to think of some way to make what he was about to say not seem as bad, but there wasn't any way around it. "I have AIDS."

"What?" Drew asked in a shocked and childlike voice.

"You heard what I said."

"Wh…how?"

Roger sighed. "I'm not, really sure. There was…a lot going on."

"A lot going on? What are you like a fag now!" Drew yelled as he stood up, his voice going from innocent and childlike to loud and accusatory.

"No! No…I-I was in the band and there was a lot of drugs and sex. I mean, I don't even know if I got it from April or from someone else or from shooting up, I don't know." He said quickly.

"Shooting up?" He asked back in his childlike voice. "April had it too? Th-that's how she died?"

"Well, no. Not really. She uh, killed herself after she found out. She slit her wrists one night in the bathroom."

"This bathroom?" He asked, a little freaked out. Roger nodded.

"So…when was this?" Drew asked, trying to process everything he'd just heard in the last minute.

"About a year and a half ago."

"You've known for a year and a half and you didn't tell me?"

"I dunno, I didn't know how." Roger said standing up, noticing Drew backing away from him.

"Fuck you Roger get away from me!"

"What?"

"Get away from me and don't touch me."

Roger just looked at Drew in disbelief. He couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. Was he scared? Maybe. Scared of what? Scared of Roger dying? No. Scared of catching AIDS by just touching him?

Anger? Was he just mad at Roger for not telling him before now? Whatever the case, Drew had walked off and went into his room during Roger's prolonged silence.

Roger wanted to hit something, or someone. He stopped himself and decided that he just needed to be with Mimi right now, he hadn't talked to her since yesterday, which was a long time.

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"Mimi?" Roger yelled into her apartment as he let himself in.

"What?" She answered from her bedroom.

"Um, I'm here."

"I see that." She said with a smile coming out of her room. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to see you." He said embracing her and giving her a kiss. "How was work?"

"It was fine."

"You know I don't like you working there."

Mimi rolled her eyes and broke away from him. "I met your brother."

"He told me." Roger said sitting down on Mimi's couch.

"Did you know he was coming?"

"No, and I felt the urge to wring his fucking neck when I saw him."

"What?" Mimi asked half laughing.

"Nothing. I haven't really talked tom him in like 4 years, and even that was just a few times on the phone. He didn't know anything."

Mimi sat down next to him knowing exactly what he meant by anything. "So you told him?"

Roger nodded. "He didn't take it that well."

"How would you expect him to take it?"
"I don't know, I mean we were never that close."

"He's still your brother."

"I treated him like shit his whole life."

"Why?"

"Because he's the cause of all my grief."

Mimi just stared as him confused.

"I've always blamed him for everything bad in my life."

"Why?"

Roger just shook his head. "Well, he's the result of one of my mom's many affairs. Come on, we look nothing alike."

"You have the same eyes."

"He was born almost 2 months early." Roger said, acting like he hadn't heard Mimi. "My dad didn't have a job and we didn't have insurance. It was expensive, he was in the hospital for 3 months. My mom was up there the whole time. I always stayed home with my dad who would just drink and complain about what a whore my mom was, and how it was all her fault that we were in this mess. A few months later we had to move. I don't know if they sold the house or the bank took it away, but we ended up moving into this small shitty apartment where my parents would just fight constantly. Then when I was 10 the split up and my dad moved to Cleveland."

"You can't blame your parents breaking up on him."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not his fault."

Deep down Roger knew Mimi was right, but he always found it easier to blame everything on one person.

"I said some really self-righteous bullshit earlier to Mark about why I didn't tell him, and I've come to the conclusion that I didn't tell him because I just don't like talking to him. "

It's not that he hated his brother, it was just…it was a weird emotion and a weird relationship. Roger would tell him that he was stupid and that he hated him, yet he still tried to follow him where ever he went. He liked listening to Roger play his guitar and would say that he wanted to be just like Roger when he grew up. Alright, so maybe some of what he said to Mark earlier was true.

"After my parents split my mom had this slew of one night stands and random boyfriends. Real pillars of the community too. Then we moved to Scarsdale when I was 14 to live with my grandparents, who lived next door to the Cohen's. Mark and I became friends and stuff, and Drew just followed me constantly. He would ask all of these questions and I would just yell at him and tell him to stay the fuck away from me. Then you know, I graduated and moved out and basically forgot about him. And this is why I've never understood why he likes me so much."

"Because you're his big brother."

"Yeah I know, and now I feel like shit.

"Then go talk to him."

"No, not tonight. I want to be with you tonight." Roger said pulling her in for another kiss.

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Drew sat up against the wall in his room staring at a picture. He had been staring at it now for a long time, though his vision was now blurred by tears. He heard the door to the open and then slam. He turned and looked out his door which was open a crack. He hoped it was Roger. No, he hoped it wasn't Roger! He was still mad.

It was Mark.

Drew watched him go into the kitchen and look at the mess of band-aid wrappers. "I see you Drew." He said.

Shit. Drew stood up and wiped his eyes and walked out of his room, still absently clutching the picture.

"What happened?" Mark asked as he picked up all of the papers.

"Roger cut himself."

"On purpose?" He asked turning around.

Drew just stared at him coldly.

"He told you didn't he?"

Drew nodded and then closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears from starting again. The tears that had been flowing since he heard Roger storm out over an hour ago.

Mark could tell that he had been crying, and he could tell that he was no the verge of tears again. He wasn't sure what to say, he was never good at comforting people. He looked at him for a second and then turned back around to throw the wrappers into the garbage.

"What's that in your hand?"

"What? Oh." Drew said noticing the picture. "Just a picture. I think it's the only picture of Roger and I where we're both genuinely happy." He said handing the picture to Mark. "It was his 16th birthday, it was the year he got the Fender, the one he still has."

Mark looked at the picture. Drew was sitting on Roger's lap, he looked maybe 7 or 8. They were both holding onto the guitar and Roger was trying to show Drew how to hold it and how to play it. They were both smiling.

"He might of just been happy about getting the guitar, and I was just happy that he acknowledged my existence."

Mark smiled and handed the picture back to him. He didn't know Drew very well at all. He just remembered Roger constantly screaming at him for no reason. He always thought Roger overreacted about stuff, but he never said anything. It always amazed Mark how well Drew took it and how he would always come back after a few minutes, just to be yelled at again.

"So, is it bad?" Drew asked.

"What?"

"I mean…is he like…gonna be dead in a year?"

"No," Mark said shaking his head. "He's good about taking his medicine and everything."

"That doesn't mean anything. God! I feel like such an ass! I said such stupid shit to him! Stupid shit that I didn't mean."

"I…wouldn't worry about it." Mark said, still unsure about what to say to him.

"How am I not supposed to worry about it? My brother is going to die and I had to go and make things worse by opening my mouth. And what the hell is this about him shooting up heroin?"

"What about it?"

"Does he still do it?"

"No. He stopped after he found out he was sick."

"You didn't try to stop him before that?"

"Yes I tried, he didn't listen to me! And he was scary when he was high I didn't need him kicking my ass! I didn't think it was any of my business then. Where are you going?" Mark asked as Drew turned around and walked away from him.

"Bed." He said before slamming his door.

Mark sighed and looked around the loft. He always hated himself for not doing something about the drugs. He would just look the other way and pretended none of it was going on. Mark grabbed his camera and retreated into his room to look at some new footage that he got earlier.

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Wheeeeeeeeee, so there it is! Please R+R!