Disclaimer- If I owned any of these characters, I would totally make Mark and Roger have mad sex. I actually do that a lot, but its considered fanfiction cause I don't actually own them. They belong to Jon Larson, who was the most awesomest guy ever. Some of Mimi's thoughts come from a song owned by Elton John, Tim Rice, and Disney on Broadway. Lyrics at the end owned by Adam Pascal.

Oh, and I really do love Mimi. I feel awful for all the situations I put the poor girl into.

Mimi Marquez was bored. Very, very bored. She was all alone in the loft. Roger had band practice and Mark was out filming as usual.

She drummed her fingers on the table. Angel would always know what to do when Mimi was bored, which was often. She would always drag Mimi to do something fun. Mimi sighed. She still really missed Angel. Maybe I'll watch Mark's film, she thought. Angel will cheer me up.

Smiling, she got up and wandered into Mark's room. In the corner were several large boxes set up next to his projector. Mimi sat down cross-legged and began rifling through the reels, looking for 'Today 4 U: Proof Positive'.

A certain reel slid out of the box, catching her eye. Mark's neat handwriting carefully labeled the reel. "Me and Rog, 4/21/94." Mimi ran her fingers over the dusty label. After a moment's hesitation, she loaded the film into the projector and settled down to watch.

Roger's smiling face filled te screen. He was sitting cross-legged on the metal table, strumming his guitar. It was a familiar scene to Mimi's eyes, except for a few small differences. Roger looked healthier. His hair was freshly cut and he wasn't as thin. He was glowing, and Mimi's heart filled with love as she watched Roger's face brighter, his eyes not yet darkened. His blood not yet tainted by disease, she mused to herself.

Mark's singsong voice could be heard behind the camera. "First shot Roger/basking in the glow of a very successful show/surrounded by fangirls/who all want his hot bod."

Onscreen, Roger rolled his eyes. "Please. It was three girls. I was hardly surrounded."

Mimi raised her eyebrow. Roger, modest? She had never seen that side of him. She leaned forward, intrigued.

"Oh, come on, Roger," the voice of Mark said. "They were all over you, and you were eating it up." There was something to his voice, a catch that made Mimi stiffen slightly. Why would Mark care? she wondered.

"They may have been all over me," Roger was teasing, "but there's only one person I was watching while I was onstage." His eyes softened as he looked at the camera. "You know you're more important than any of those addicts."

Mimi shifted uncomfortably. Why the hell is Roger being so nice? What the hell is going on? She watched as the camera was lowered slightly and was placed on the table. Roger was still visible, setting his guitar to one side. On the left side of the screen, Mark came into view, sitting beside Roger. The two friends embraced, and Roger touched Mark's cheek gently. Mimi watched in horror as her boyfriend's lips met those of his best friend's. She leapt up and quickly shut off the projector, but not before she heard Mark emit a moan and Roger murmuring, "God I love you..."

She started at the now blank wall, breathing heavily. After a moment, she grabbed the box of film reels and began rummaging through it frantically. Reel after reel was labeled "Me and Rog." Shellshocked, she threw a random reel at the wall and walked back into the living room. Sitting on the couch, her leg began twitching as her mind raced.

Roger and Mark. Mark and Roger. Together. She twisted her hands in her lap. Not once had Roger ever mentioned being with Mark. Oh god, she thought, What if its still going on behind my back? What if I'm just a show for the fans of a pretty boy front man who doesn't want to admit his sexual preferences? She began shaking at the thought of it.

Roger. Her savior. Her stronghold, who wrote songs for her, who took care of her, who loved her and made her feel special. She couldn't bear the thought of it all being a lie. I became CLEAN for you Roger, and this is how you repay me?

The door opened, causing Mimi to start. She spun around. Mark was staring at her from the doorway, hand still on the knob. "Mimi? You ok?"

Mimi attempted to smile. "Fine Mark. Did you get any good footage?" God, I sound so fake.

Mark smiled, not noticing the strained tone of her voice, and closed the door. "Yeah, there was this really cool shot that I got at St. Marks Place with the vendors and it was really bright all of a sudden and..." Mimi stared at Mark, no longer concentrating on his words. She watched him speak, anger and worry growing in the pit of her stomach. How can he act all normal when he has those films in his room? She fumed.

"Mimi?" Mark stopped and studied her. "Are you sure you're okay? You've got a funny look on your face."

"I'm fine," Mimi said impatiently. As Mark turned away, she muttered, "Fag."

Mark stiffened and turned around slowly, anger radiating from his body. Mimi shrank back. I cannot believe I just said that. Angel would be so upset...

"Why would you say that?" Mark asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I-I just- I-"

"What are you talking about, Mimi? Its not like you to go out of your way to insult someone who hasn't done anything to you." He paused. "Are you high?"

Something in Mimi snapped. "NO! But after seeing those film reels in your room, I'm thinking I might have to go buy something to burn the damn image from my mind!"

Mark's face paled. "You went through my films?" he demanded, his voice dropping down an octave. If he was angry before, he was absolutely livid now. Cold anger flared in his eyes. When Mimi didn't reply, he began to advance on her. "You had NO. RIGHT," he growled, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I think I have a right to know whether or not my boyfriend is cheating on me!" she said, finally finding her voice. She imitated the video. "You're more important to me than any of those addicts!" Mimi spat out the last word, subconsciously rubbing the old scars on her arm.

Mark's face turned red as he began screaming. "Yeah, well, you don't have to worry because he left me for 'one of those addicts'!" Mimi opened her mouth to reply, but Mark had already slammed the door of his room shut. Mimi started forward. I'm not letting him get away with this. She stopped outside the door, hearing an odd sound inside. She could hear Mark's choked, muffled sobs through the thin walls. Good, maybe he'll slit his wrists like April, she thought scathingly, turning away. Throwing on her jacket, she left to go find her old dealer.

Three hours later, Mimi was crashing down from her high and Roger was walking through the door.

"Mimi, I wrote a new song today with the guys and I think it's the best I've written since 'Your Eyes'," he grinned, setting down his guitar and bounding over to the couch. His smile dropped as he took in Mimi's angry face and the fresh track mark on her arm. "What the hell? You shot up?" he demanded angrily. "I thought you weren't doing that anymore!"

Mimi didn't look at him as she replied. "Well, it's a pretty big shock finding out your boyfriend is gay," she said shortly, staring at the wall. She heard Roger's sharp intake of breath.

"I'm not."

Mimi finally looked up at Roger. His face was pale. "Not gay?" she laughed derisively. "Then explain to me why I found those film reels of you two and why Mark is crying right now."

Roger's eyes widened. "Mark's crying?" he asked as he began to scramble off the couch. Mimi glared at him and he slowly sat back down. "Case proven," she muttered.

She watched as he fought the urge to go comfort Mark. "So this whole time, it was all a lie?" Mimi's voice cracked as she spoke.

Roger sighed, reaching for Mimi's hand. "Of course not. I do care about you, Mimi. I wouldn't stay with someone I didn't feel for deeply." He looked down at their intertwined hands. "I guess I should have been completely honest before." He glanced up, waiting for permission to continue. Mimi closed her eyes and nodded. Taking a deep breath, Roger began.

"Well, first of all, I'm not gay. Not really, anyway. Mark is the only guy I've ever been with. I'm not really sure what that makes me, but I never really thought it mattered. All I know is there was always something about Mark. Something about his personality, his innocence. I liked his almost childlike quality." At this, a memory of the night they met flashed into Mimi's mind. "Little girl, hey, the door is that way..."

Roger hesitated before continuing. "Mark has always been the only constant in my life. No matter how bad things got for him, he always found time for me, to make sure I was okay.

"We met in high school our junior year. I was sitting outside, playing my guitar, and Mark was wandering around taking pictures for the First Class video. It was a thing our school did in attempt to make people behave," he added, noting Mimi's confusion. "We got to talking, and he seemed like a nice guy. So I asked him if he wanted to hang out." As Roger spoke, a small smile played on his face.

Does he ever get that look when he's thinking about me? Mimi wondered sadly.

"We became really good friends. He was my lifeline. When my dad left, I stayed at his house for a few weeks. There was this one night, I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down and freaked out, and my hands were shaking so hard I couldn't even play my guitar. Mark grabbed my hands, trying to make them stop." He hesitated again, then closed his eyes and pressed on. "I don't know why or how, but the next thing I knew, I was kissing him, and my hands weren't shaking anymore. We went on as if nothing had happened, but I could feel this massive tension between us. It was awful. Finally, he stood up while we were watching tv and started yelling at me." At this, Roger laughed. "It was the first display of aggression I had ever seen from him. It was weird, having Mark yelling at me for acting so uncomfortable, when it was me who thought he was feeling awkward. When he finally shut up, I just looked at him and couldn't speak, because he had blurted out every last thing I had been thinking that whole week. He was wondering what it meant, why I did it. I didn't know, but I had to find out.

"So I stood up and we kissed again... and this time, it wasn't a desperate, messy, awkward thing. It just," Roger paused, searching for the right words. "It just made sense."

Mimi looked down. Thats how I felt when you kissed me, she thought sadly. How have I come to this? I've closed my eyes to so much for so long. I no longer can, can I?

Roger ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "There wasn't any going back from there. We weren't really open about it, we just lived in our own little world. Then his dad found out, and it was-" Roger swallowed, shaking his head, "-awful. It was really bad, he was home from his freshman year of college. I was so excited to see him that I didn't think. I just kissed him then and there in his living room and his dad walked in on us. He started screaming and punching Mark, calling him a fag and a queer and saying that he disgraced the Jewish faith. I barely got him out of there conscious, and that was with a lot of cuts and bruises mself. The only thing Mark had was his camera and his old maroon and blue sweater." Roger shook his head. "He followed us to my house, so we packed up a bunch of my clothes and took off for New York City. Mark's philosophy teacher lived there, a real young guy."

"Collins?"

"The one and the same. He told us he'd help us find a place in exchange for us letting him hide out there when his anarchist values got him into too much trouble. Thats how we got here. I joined a band called the Well Hungarians and we began getting really steady gigs. Mark was making some films on the side of some assistive job at NBC. Everything was great until I went to a bar with the band after one of our gigs. I was really drunk, and this pretty redhead introduced herself to me. Her name was April."

Mimi relaxed slightly, finally back on familiar ground with the story. April was a faceless entity. Mimi only knew that she slit her wrists and that she was no longer a threat. Maybe he's not with Mark at all anymore, she thought, her mood brightening slightly. Maybe he realized he wasn't gay after all.

"She was hitting on me a lot. I was so wasted that I flirted back, went to her place, and let her shoot me up." Roger's brow furrowed. "At least, I think that's what happened. All I know is, I woke up in a strange bed with a massive headache and a track mark on my arm. I felt like crap, and she told me I needed more. We shot up. And it was incredible." At this point, he clenched his fists. "And so I left him. I left Mark for her because Mark couldn't give me heroin. About six months later, she slit her wrists and I found out I have HIV. Mark was the only one willing to help me." Tears began rolling down Roger's face, his voice becoming choked with grief. "I left him, and he still brought be back to the loft. I wanted to pick back up where we left off, but I couldn't let it happen. He got me through withdrawal. Mark kept me from dying, got my AZT by whatever means necessary. He had been thrown out of his house because of me. He lost me, and then he lost Maureen. I couldn't hand him a death sentence, too! I have HIV and nothing is ever going to fucking change that."

"I don't care."

Mimi and Roger turned around. Mark was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, for once looking Roger directly in the eyes.

"How long have you been standing there?" Roger demanded, attempting to hide away his tears.

Mark took a step forward. "Long enough," he shrugged, looking down. "Roger, I don't care about the HIV. I'd gladly share the burden with you. When you're gone, I'll be gone too, because theres no point of not having you."

"Mark, there is no way-"

Mark cut him off. "LISTEN TO ME ALREADY! I don't care, dammit! We'll use condoms if we have to! There doesn't even have to be any sex! I just can't stand being two feet away from you and not being able to have you." His eyes glistened with tears. Roger stood and walked over to Mark, gently touching his face. After a moment, they moved forward and clutched each other in a hungry embrace, barely noticing Mimi leaving the room with tears streaming down her face.

Wiping tears as she walked, Mimi headed towards St. Mark's Place. She quickly spotted her dealer, surrounded by girls she worked with and guys from CBGB's.

"Well well, back already, hmm?" The Man's gleeful smile did not reach his eyes. Mimi said nothing, shoving money into the outstretched hand and snatching the bag from him.

She hurried into a side alley and quickly melted the powder. Her hands shook as she filled the needle, from grief or the need for the drug, she didn't know. She pushed it into her vein, the image of Roger and Mark flashing through her mind, then disappearing in a cloud of milky white.

And now I've got to take these drugs

so I don't see you over

And over

A/N- First Class actually does exist at my school. First Wednesday of the month our schedule changes so that when we're in our third period class we watch the video and do a little activity. Theres different words of the month like respect and whatnot. Motto is "Together we achieve, together we succeed." Its a running joke with a lot of kids because they don't really make it connect with us.

Currently writing the backstory to this. Chapter epic on Roger and Mark's story, from the time they met to the end of this fic.