Touch and Tell Lullaby
Chapter III: Gone is the Day

"He's cute."

Roger is strumming away on his guitar. He has a tune in his head that he can't work out through his fingers. Somewhere in the background of his mind he can hear Mimi talking. Trying to play the part of a decent boyfriend he says, "Huh?"

"Mark," Mimi replies, painting her fingernails to match the New York evening sun. Not that bright, burning yellow, but the orangey-red the sky takes on right before it sets. The color of light burning through a haze of smug and pollution. "He's cute."

Roger's fingers miss the next set of strings. An angry sound bounces off the walls. Mimi leans against his shoulder. "Like a puppy or a younger brother," Mimi continues. She doesn't seem to notice that Roger has stopped playing. "He needs someone, you know. He seems like he needs someone. Someone to take care of him."

"We're here," Roger answers. "He has us and Collins and Maureen and Joanne." Roger doesn't mean for Joanne's name to come out sounding so cruel. Mark did seem to need Joanne. He'd gone out to lunch with her enough recently. "We take care of each other."

Mimi dips the brush back in the paint and starts with her toenails. She gives a low, sultry laugh. "It seems weird that he doesn't date," Mimi says. "He hasn't seen anyone since Maureen, has he?"

"Mark doesn't need a girlfriend. He's in love in love with his camera." Roger hasn't really thought about his friend's dating habits, but it isn't odd that Mark doesn't see many girls. Mark doesn't have enough time for valentines and dinners. He has his film to make and Roger to watch after.

"There are some girls down at the restaurant," Mimi says. "Some of them are really nice. Some of them are just the sort of girls that Mark would like."

"How would you know?" Roger's temper flares. He snaps, throwing his guitar onto the mattress and shrugging Mimi off him. He doesn't want to touch her right now. He doesn't want to be having this conversation. "How would you know the type of girl Mark would like?"

Roger has never seen the restaurant Mimi works at now, but he remembers the club. He remembers the girls with their bruised faces and the marks up their arms. He can't help but imagine one of them with her hands and lips all over Mark. Roger knows that Mimi is trying to change, that the girls at the restaurants aren't the same as the ones in the leather pants and handcuffs. Still, Roger doesn't want any of Mimi's so called friends around Mark.

Mark is better than that. Mark doesn't deserve any of the shit girls like Mimi put men through. Roger has already done that to him once before.

"Besides," Roger sighs. He leans his forehead against the wall. The cold cement feels go against is too hot skin. "Would you want to date again after a mistake like Maureen?"

Mimi stands up, three toenails painted and clothes only half buttoned. "I'm going out," she announces, picking up her purse and refusing to look Roger in the eyes.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Where does Mimi go?"

"What do you mean?" Roger knows what Mark means, but its better this way. Better if Roger pretends he has no idea where Mimi goes late at night. What she does when Roger's not there to stop her. It's better if Roger pretends his life isn't falling apart again.

Mark doesn't care what Roger wants to pretend isn't happening. He cares about Roger. "You always spend the night up here. Is it because Mimi leaves?"

It's easier to sleep next to Mark. Track free arms wrapped around his waist and a still body pressed against his. No wiggling free of the blankets so that he can sneak away. No cold bedspreads when Roger wakes up.

"Maybe she does," Roger says without looking away from his half finished music page. "So what?"

So it doesn't say a lot that Roger would rather sleep next to his best friend than his girlfriend.

So what is it about Roger that makes girls turn to smack and why can't Roger make them stop?

So why does Mark stick around when Roger can't keep a hold of anyone else?

Mark winces at Roger's harsh tone. He fiddles with his camera so that he doesn't have to face Roger's anger head on. He says, "She using, isn't she?" Roger hits a few stings on his guitar so that he doesn't have to answer. Mark says, "That's why you come up here, isn't it? So that you don't have to be with her when she's high. So that you don't have to stop her." Musetta's Waltz fills the air without Roger realizing what he's playing. Mark says, "You don't want to have to watch her do that, do you?"

The warm up waltz ends in a clash of sour notes. "Of course I can't!" Roger snaps. "I don't want to have to see Mimi like that!"

"You're jealous," Mark accuses. "You can't stand seeing her like that when you can't get high with her."

They're both on their feet. Mark has his fists curled up until the knuckles are stark white. Roger is looming over his friend with a mincing sneer and a dangerous look in his eyes. "It's not like that," Roger growls. He wants to hit something. He wants to hit Mark for suggesting Roger could fall back into his old habits, for not trusting him. He wants to hit Mark because Roger often wonders how much easier it would be to just give in and follow Mimi down.

Mark is flushed. His breathing is uneven and loud. He looks ready for a fight. When he speaks it's barely above a whisper. "Promise me you're not using again." Mark pleas, "Promise me you're won't start using again, Roger. Promise me."

Mark's voice drains away Roger's anger. Mark's eyes make Roger want to fall to his knees and hold Mark close and never even look at a needle again.

Roger hesitates, teetering between rage and the need to comfort. "I promise." His voice is low and cracks as he stumbles over the words. He says, "I'm not going to do that again, Mark, I promise. It's just... It would be..."

Roger's voice breaks down and so does Roger, and then Mark is right there. He's there to hold and comfort and make sure that Roger doesn't fall too far. It's all right for Roger to break down because Mark is there, and Mark understands.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

That night Mimi calls in from work.

"Dillon needs me to stay late," she says. Roger can hear music and drunken laughter in the background. It doesn't sound like a restaurant. Mimi puts her hand over the receiver. There are muffled voices and a small scuffle. When Mimi comes back on she sounds too happy. "You don't need to wait up for me. I love you, Roger."

Roger hangs up the phone and goes to the loft.

Mark is in bed but not a sleep. Roger slides beneath the covers and scoots as close as he can. He buries his face in the crook of Mark's neck. In his arms, Mark begins shifting away. Roger says, "Please," and holds tight.

Roger thinks about Mimi sliding up some stranger's chest. He imagines rough hands tugging at her skirt. The mystery man in his head looks a lot like his old dealer

Mark coughs. "Rog, I can't breathe," He complains. Roger doesn't let go. Mark wiggles around in his arms some more before. Each move only makes Roger more determine to hold on. After a while Mark stops fighting against him. He sighs. "I'm not going to leave you, Roger."

Roger loosens his arms enough that Mark can breathe. "You need to talk about this, Roger," Mark says, propping himself up on his elbows.

Roger nuzzles closer to Mark. He shuts his eyes and tries to make Mark's voice go away. All he wants right now is a warm body that isn't going to disappoint him. "I can't think about it," Roger admits. "I can't keep watching Mimi destroy herself over drugs like that. I love her too much."

Mark sighs and pulls out of Roger's arms. Roger opens his eyes when he feels the mattress move. Mark is standing by the bed, pulling on a pair of jeans. "I can't stay here tonight."

"Where are you going?" Roger's voice is laced with desperation. He wishes Mark would look at him so that he could plead properly, but Mark is too busy packing his camera away. "Mark," Roger repeats. "Mark!" Each time he sounds a little more frantic, but Mark doesn't even slow down. "You said you wouldn't leave me."

Mark doesn't pause until he's at the door way, packed to abandon Roger for a few nights at least. "I can't do this," Mark says. He runs a hand through his already messy hair, messaging his temple and still not meeting Roger's eyes. "I can't do this anymore, Roger, I can't watch you destroy yourself over Mimi. I..."

Mark trails off, letting the bedroom door close behind him. Roger waits in bed, knowing that Mark can't just leave him. He sits up and watches the door, because any second Mark is going to come back in and apologize for deserting Roger like this. Mark knows that Roger can't deal with these kinds of things on his own. He needs Mark to be there for him, and Mark has never failed him before. He'd come back. He couldn't just forget about Roger.

The sound of the front door closing echoes through the loft. Roger stays awake all night, knowing that Mark would have to come back to him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"He's there, isn't he?"

Collins sighs. "I don't think he wants to talk to you right now."

"Please," Roger isn't sure when he got in the habit of begging, but he'd been doing it a lot lately. "Please Collins. I don't even know what I did."

"Roger, you-"

"Don't tell me to be patient!" Roger snaps. He knows he shouldn't be getting so upset with Collins but he can't help it. A week without Mark and with Mimi to deal with, Roger couldn't sleep at night and he couldn't play his guitar to save his life. He was falling apart, and Collins is the only person in the last few days that had stuck around long enough for Roger to yell at. "Go, you sound just like Mimi. 'Just wait a while. He'll come back.' Why isn't he back yet, Collins. For fuck sake, I didn't even do anything!"

"Are you sure about that?" Collins asks. It's the sort of tone he takes on when he is trying to get Roger to see something obvious. Roger hates that tone.

Roger lets the conversation sit for a moment while he runs hand through his hair. He doesn't even try thinking back to what he might have done wrong. He's done worse before and Mark has never left him, so whatever it is this time it couldn't be Roger's fault. "I need to talk with him," Roger says. "There's all this pressure with Mimi and... I... I really need to talk with him Collins."

On the other side of the phone Collins sighs. "He's not here right now, Roger. He's out with... Someone."

"Joanne?" It's the only person Mark ever goes out with anymore.

Collins says, "No. Someone... Someone new. Give him some time, Roger. I think he's trying to work a few things out."

"Someone new?" Roger's voice is a low snarl. He's pacing across the loft, working out energy he'd rather be using to beat someone up with. "You're telling me he left so that he could go on a few dates with some chick?"

"It's nothing like that, Roger," Collins says. "Mark needs to feel good about himself. He needs to get his life together."

"And he can't do that with me?" Roger is almost yelling into the phone now. The only thing stopping him is Mimi asleep in the next room. If he wakes her up they'll just have another row. That's all they'd been doing together, lately.

"No," Collins answers. "No, he can't."

The sincerity in his friend's voice makes Roger's blood chill over. He stops pacing, almost stops breathing for a few minutes while his system tries to digest this information. Mark didn't need him. Mark didn't want him to be around. Mark really had left him.

It takes Roger a while to find his voice. "Fine." He sounds broken. He feels broken. "Fine. Let him date who ever he wants. I'm only his best fucking friend, right? Why should I be included in his life at all, huh?"

"Roger," Collins voice is soothing and understanding. Roger doesn't want to listen to him.

"I have to go," He says. "Don't bother telling him I called."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"What is it this time?"

Roger doesn't bother looking up from his guitar when Mimi comes in. He already knows how this conversation will go. It's going to be another one of their fights. Mimi is wearing her street clothes; Roger could hear her heavy boots stomping up the stairs. Roger hasn't been able to write a single song since Mark had left. Today hadn't gone any better, and the band is starting to get impatient.

"Excuse me?" Mimi asks. She doesn't sit down next to him. She stands directly in front of him, tapping her foot against the hard concrete floor and waiting for Roger to look up. He doesn't it. "What do you mean by that?"

Roger sighs, collapsing over his fender. It's no use to keep strumming away. "The fight. What is it going to be about this time?"

"Like I ever had a say," Mimi yells, heel coming down on the floor hard. "It's always you who has to be yelling about something."

"Maybe if you didn't give me so many reasons!" Roger's fingers curl around his guitar until the strings feel like they can cut his palm open. His eyes are closed so tightly he can feel the blood pumping around his skull. "I don't want to do this."

Mimi snorts. "Yes you do. You always need something to get on me about, Roger. You have to know everything I do and every one I see. You're the one who starts these fights, not me!" Mimi sighs, shaking her head. "No wonder Mark left."

That does it. The guitar hits the ground with a loud thud. Roger is on his feet, pushing himself up into Mimi's face. "You have no idea!" He yells. "You come in here high on smack and dressed like that. What do you expect me to think, Mimi?"

"Maybe if you stopped acting like such a possessive asshole people would stick around." Roger tries to reply, but Mimi is already storming out, shouting Spanish phrases that Roger can't understand.

He follows after her, ignoring the slammed down in his face. "So that's it, you're leaving!" He yells, leaning over the railing as Mimi hurries down the stairs.

"Mark had the right idea!" Mimi doesn't stop when she's screaming up at Roger. "You and your fucking problems."

"My problems! I'm not the one who-" Mimi is almost out of sight. Roger lets go of the railing and runs after her. "I'm not the one who fucks around for some extra blow."

"I need blow to deal with you!" Mimi shouts back, tugging the front door open so hard the frame shakes. She stalks out onto the front street, knocking over one of the homeless men sleeping on the front step.

"Don't bother coming back," Roger yells, and Mimi keeps walking away.