Author's Note: Okay, this chapter took me forever to write, not sure how I wanted to go with the story. So I hope you like the way it is. And thank you for all of your reviews. Keep them coming!

Disclaimer: You know it's not mine. Never was, never will be. It's Jon Larson's.

"Where's Roger?" April asked as she walked into the living room wearing one of his shirts.

"Out," Benny responded.

"Again? He's always out! I haven't seen him in over 24 hours!"

"I know. He's probably out getting high."

"That's not funny!"

Benny stared at her. "I'm serious."

Roger grabbed his leather jacket and went for a walk, trying to think of what to do. The smack felt really good. He thoroughly enjoyed getting high. However, he hated how upset April was every time he came home like that. So he didn't go home—he stayed at one of his Dave's or one of Dave's friends' places.

Well, what she doesn't know won't hurt her. He went to go look for Dave, hoping he'd have another stash. He was walking down the street when a tall man in a long black coat approached him.

"Heyyy…"

"Do I know you?" Roger asked. Maybe they met when he was smashed or high or something.

"They call me The Man."

"Uh, hi?" Who the hell is this guy?

"I heard from your friend Dave that you are into heroin."

"Yes…"

"Well? How is it?"

Her look around cautiously. "I love it!" he whispered. "Except it pisses off my girlfriend."

"So I've heard."

Roger stared at this guy. "How do you know these things?" he asked curiously.

The man laughed… a very strange sound. "I know quite a lot. So, do you want some more? A few more hits, perhaps?"

He dug into his pockets. "I only have $5."

"Fine. Good enough." The Man took the money and exchanged it for a needle and a small bag of white powder. "Sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll, Roger. Now you have all three."

Roger ducked into the alleyway and shot up, feeling the high again. This time, like the last few times, he didn't pass out, but felt good.

He couldn't go back to the loft. April would kill him! Mark would probably call the cops on him, and Maureen would most likely want to get high, too.

He stumbled his way around and ended up at the Cat Scratch Club, where a young Latina girl was dancing around half naked, handcuffed to a lawn chair. He watched her, fascinated. He wanted to meet her so badly at that moment… she was beautiful. Why was she there instead of school?

Roger laughed out loud at the question, thinking the same thing about himself.

The laugh caught the attention of the dancer. After she finished her act, she strode over to him and sat on his lap, running her fingers through his hair.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"They call me the Feline of Avenue B." She noticed the track marks on his arms, and her attitude immediately changed. "Good luck with the junk," she whispered and went back to dancing on the stage.

Roger took another look at her, grabbed his jacket, and went back into the streets. It was getting dark, and he needed somewhere to go… his last hit was wearing off. He couldn't remember who's place he stayed at last. Was the loft a safe place? Sure. Why not? What's the worst they could do to me?

He went back to the loft, feeling perfectly fine. Maybe they wouldn't notice that he was high. Well, he hoped like hell they wouldn't notice.

Roger walked nonchalantly into the living room. He wasn't expecting five pairs of eyes staring at him. April ran up to him, fuming mad. "Where the hell were you, Roger?" she yelled.

"Out! I can roam the city without all of you."

Collins glared at him. "Take off your jacket." When Roger refused, Collins ripped it off of him and grabbed his arm. "I can't fucking believe you, Roger! You promised. You said you weren't going to shoot up again!" he scolded as he looked at the fresh track marks.

"What I do is none of your fucking—"

Collins slammed him into the wall and pinned him there. "Look, Roger," he said, getting right into the blonde's face, "I may have only known you for half a year, but I know that this is going to slowly kill you! Stop being a selfish asshole and think about what your behavior is causing us." He flung him to the floor and walked away, into his "room."

April knelt at his side. "Rog," she said, tears brimming her eyes, "you promised. You lied to me…" she looked around at the others, "to us."

He moved himself up into sitting position. "Look, April and the rest of you, what I do is none of your business! It's not like I do it around you!"

"Is it really that good?" Maureen excitedly asked.

"Maureen!" Mark, Benny, and April all yelled.

"Sor-ry! I just wanted to know!"

Roger smiled at her, a change from the usual yelling and insults. "Fucking amazing! It's like flying and running at the same time… it's better than sex and playing gigs."

April almost choked. "Excuse me?"

"No offense about the sex, thing A. You're great and all, but—"

"Rog, you need to get off the junk. Stop it before you get addicted," Benny advised, not wanting to hear any more about April and how good she was in bed.

"That's the last time, I promise! I'm finished with it."

Mark, who had been pretty quiet the entire time, finally spoke up. "Roger, I'm saying this only as your friend, because I hate seeing you like this. But I will call the police on you if it ever happens again, and if I catch you with it in possession."

"You don't mean that!" April gasped. "You wouldn't do that."

"I do mean it. And I would. I mean every word."

Roger sighed in frustration. "Stop pretending I'm five fucking years old, would you? I can take care of myself, thank you very much. And I promised I wouldn't do it again, didn't I?"

"You said that last time," Benny mumbled under his breath.

"He's right, Rog. You promised before, multiple times, and look how that turned out."

"God, April! Can't you trust me?"

"Yeah, but—"

"No buts. I'll stop, okay?" He folded his arms and glared at her, waiting for the answer.

She didn't want to make him any madder than he already was, and decided to drop the subject. "Okay," she murmured doubtfully.

Of course, Roger didn't keep his promise. He found other guys that he'd shoot up with and would stay at their places for days at a time. April and Mark were constantly freaking out and even talked about calling the police to find Roger.

But he'd always turn up high, swearing he wouldn't do it again. And they'd let him off the hook, again and again, hoping that he'd change.

He hadn't played his guitar since he first discovered heroin; April missed "Musetta's Waltz," something she never thought she'd think. When he wasn't out getting high, all he'd want to do was have sex—not that April minded or anything, but she wanted their relationship to be like the way it was before smack entered their lives.

Collins had completely stopped talking to Roger, who didn't even notice. Benny was always doing schoolwork in the loft, rarely talking to him, too. Maureen kept trying to get on Broadway, but she was still stuck doing midnight showings of Rocky Horror with April… Dave had dropped from the cast and was usually with Roger, getting completely high and/or trashed.

It couldn't have gotten any worse for April… or could it?

Of course it'll get worse for April... for the next chapter, the rating will be M. It's the last chapter, and well, a lot goes on in it. I'm sure you can guess what the big event is, but the other ones leading to it? Well, you'll see.