Oh. My. God. Can it be? Did she actually update? Yes, my friends, it is true:hides in a corner, mumbling about rehearsal schedules and midterms and crazy people visiting her:

Okay, there are no great excuses. Just...uh...:pushes the beauty that is Cary Shields forward: Distract them!

This is dedicated first and foremost to Chris, for being who she is. I love you, girl.

To all the reviewers who I'm sure are growing to hate me for NEVER updating...those days are over, my friends! Whee!

Also dedicated to Cary Shields, for being the hottest, sexiest, DEFINITELY slashiest Roger that exists. Yes, my friends, Lael finally saw RENT! Twice! Heh. She likes living in New York state. And she's going to stop talking in third person. Okay, enough notes. Storytime!

:the next day:

Sleeping on the couch, Mark thought grumpily, was not the most comfortable of activities, no matter how used to it you were. Especially not on their couch, the lumpy, ratty, and slightly trashed piece of shit it was. Eyes squeezed shut to block out the sun streaming in from the window, he slowly sat up, jammed his glasses on his face, and stumbled toward the bathroom. He pushed open the door only to stop dead in his tracks.

Roger had just pushed the shower curtain back, water dripping from his body. He didn't seem at all embarrassed to see Mark standing there. "Hey, hand me a towel."

Blushing, Mark averted his eyes. This is ridiculous. This wouldn't have mattered to you yesterday. There's no reason to be embarrassed...after all, it's not like he can read your thoughts, or anything. Thoughts that were becoming steadily less pure as he handed Roger a towel.

Roger grinned. "Hey, man, you okay? You're acting kinda funny." As he spoke, he dried himself off as if he hadn't a care in the world.

This is insane! He's acting like it's not even uncomfortable...oh, of course. For him it isn't. Because he's not a freak who lusts after his best friend, like YOU! "I, uh...I have to go...eat some breakfast."

"Are you sure? I'm pretty much done here, and I bet you didn't come in here to watch me." Roger grinned, obviously kidding around with him.

Mark laughed nervously, and shrugged. "Yeah, well..." He trailed off, turned around and headed for the kitchen. He berated himself constantly as he poured a bowl of cereal, but couldn't help staring at Roger over the box of Cap'n Crunch as he walked from the bathroom to the bedroom.

Just then, April walked out of the bedroom, clad only in one of Roger's big shirts that fell to mid-thigh on her. Roger grinned. "Hey, baby, I didn't know you were up." He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him.

She giggled. "Well, I am! Good morning, Mark."

Mark mumbled something that might vaguely be interpreted as a greeting, and Roger laughed. "Hey, what's your problem?"

Mark snapped, "Leave me the fuck alone, Roger!"

Roger frowned. "Mark, what...?"

"Nothing. Just...nothing." Mark stood up, not hungry anymore, and pushed past Roger and April, grabbing his camera and climbing out the window. He shut the window almost all the way behind him, sighed, and sat down on the fire escape, legs dangling over the edge. He sat there for a moment, completely still, just breathing. In, out In, out. After a minute or two, he flipped his camera on, pointing it at himself. "Close on Mark, temporarily and voluntarily evicted from his apartment. Pan across the busy street...hell, pan across anywhere but the loft, where Roger continues to make an ass of himself." He sighed, closing his eyes. Solitude...

No sooner had this thought entered his mind when he heard a high-pitched giggle coming from inside. He gritted his teeth. Even when I'm alone, she's still getting in my life. Resolutely, he flipped his camera back on, making use of his time to at least garner some shots with interesting prospective. He was in the middle of filming the neighbour's apparently suicidal cat when the phone rang. And rang. And rang. He heard Roger say, "Hello?" and mumbled to himself, "We screen." Great. Just what I need, a pep talk from Mom.

But Roger didn't open the window to hand him the phone. Instead, he heard an excited exclamation, and peered curiously in the window. Roger's face had lit up, and he caught Mark's eye and motioned him inside. Intrigued, Mark forsook his retreat, climbing back in through the window. "Collins," Roger mouthed at him, then went back to his conversation. "Where the hell did you go lastno, I just mean...you're WHERE?" Roger's face changed to complete shock, then let out a laugh. "What the hell are you doing there? Man, what did you do?"

"Where?" Mark asked, but Roger ignored him. "When the fuck are you coming back?" He stopped, sobering suddenly. "You...you're not? Collins, man, talk to me. What happened yesterday?"

Frusterated, Mark tried again. "Where is he? What's going on?" Roger just shushed him and waved him away. "Uh huh...what do you mean? What kind of news? No...don't hang up on me, I...fuck!" Looking confused, Roger hung up the phone. Mark almost pounced on him. "What's going on? Where is he?"

Roger grinned. "He's in jail."

"WHAT? And...why the fuck are you smiling?"

"He's in jail in Greece."

Mark blinked. "Collins is in Greece? How the hell did he get there so fast?"

Roger shrugged. "He's good at that kind of thing. Used to do it a lot. That's why he wasn't living here when you moved in. I guess he got some news yesterday then...hopped a plane. He wouldn't tell me what it was, says he wants to tell me in person."

"Huh. Weird. So...did he at least tell you why he's in jail?"

Roger shook his head. "Nah, not important. Just another anarchist story for him to retell when he gets back, probably."

"But what if something happens to him? Is he gonna be okay in there?"

Roger snorted. "It's Collins. I wouldn't expect him to be in there for more than a day or two. He has a way of getting out of trouble." He looked around the loft. "I guess that means you can have his room until he gets back."

"Yeah...guess so." He looked over at Roger. "Can we afford to pay the rent by ourselves?"

Roger laughed and punched his arm. Ow. "What do you mean, we? I don't see you getting off your lazy ass and going to work."

Mark blushed. "I've got an interview next week!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I'll tell you how it's gonna go. You're going to go in, decide instantly it's not what you want to do with your life, and spend the rest of the interview making fun of the person who's interviewing you, probably without them realizing it."

Mark gave him a half-hearted grin. "I can't help it. They're such...they're so pretentious!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can't help it because you're too fucking lazy to get a job. No...that's not it. It's not 'artsy' enough, is it?" Roger grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck you too." Mark rolled his eyes. "But are we looking for a roommate or not?"

Roger shrugged. "I never really look for roommates. They happen."

Mark stared at him. "That's a weird way of looking at it."

"True, though. You'll see."

Mark shook his head, but not three days later, there was a knock on the door. "Maaaark..." Roger's voice came from his and April's room, sounding strung-out. Mark rolled his eyes, put his projecter back in its case, and opened the door to find"Benny!"

"Howdy!" Benjamin Coffin the Third stood in the doorway, suitcase by his feet, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and a box in his hands. "How you doing, kid?"

"What...what the hell are you doing here? How did you even know where I was?"

Benny pushed the box into Mark's hands. "Your mom says hi." Mark looked down to see it was full of baby photos of himself, a batch of cookies, and a scarf she had knitted him. "Aww, now I almost feel bad for ignoring her." He grinned. "Almost." Then he noticed the suitcases. "Uh..you on your way somewhere?"

"Yup! Here." Benny picked up his bags and walked inside, tossing them on the couch, which groaned under the weight. He looked around, curious. "Dude, this place is a shithole."

Mark grinned. "Isn't it great?" Then the rest of what Benny said sunk in. "Wait...you're staying here? Now?"

"Yep! I got a job in the city, and figured I might as well stay with you. You know, save as much on rent as I can. Save up some money, eventually start my own business...I've got plans, man. I've got a future. And right now, my plans involve living on your couch." He grinned, flashing white teeth.

Mark shrugged, motioned to the couch. "All yours. Let me tell Roger we've got a guest."

Benny looked at him, puzzled. "Who's Roger? Your boyfriend?" He smirked at Mark.

Mark glared at him, then went over and opened Roger's door. "Roger, there's..." He stopped abruptly.

Roger had about an inch and a half of cold steel protruding from his left arm, April's head in his lap, and a euphoric look on his face. The couple on the bed stopped what they were doing to stare at him as he blinked and tried to form words with a mouth that didn't want to cooperate. April pulled away from Roger and caught Mark's eyes. There was some sort of recognition there...something Mark knew he didn't want to see in her eyes. He abruptly said, "D-don't let me bother you. We've got a new roommate." Then turned around and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Benny was looking at him quizzically. "What the hell was that?" Mark ignored him, slamming the door to his own room (now that Collins was gone) and throwing himself facedown on the bed. Try as he would, nothing could get that fatal image out of his head. Knowing a friend was a junkie was bad enough, but seeing him shoot up...A friend. As if that's all he is to you. Through the dim recesses of the fog he'd drifted into, he heard a knock on another door and Benny's voice saying, "Yo, dunno who's in there, just wanna say hi..."

Mark was up in a flash, in the living room and grabbing Benny's arm. "Don't disturb him now. He'll be out later." He heard a creak and turned around to see Roger's door opening, and Roger standing in the doorway, about to speak. Mark ran forward and pushed him back into his room, shutting the door with him inside. "He, uh, he's sick. Don't want you to catch anything."

Benny was giving him a very strange look, but shrugged it off. "Whatever. Just trying to be friendly." He flopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. "You know your mother would have a stroke if she ever saw this place?"

Mark chuckled. "No shit. Why do you think I live here?"

Benny raised an eyebrow suggestively. "The company? Is it that Roger guy?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Asshole. He's got a girlfriend." Whoops, didn't mean that to sound so bitter...

Before he could react to the sound of the door opening, Roger had walked out of his room and offered his hand to Benny. "Hey, man. Welcome to shhhithole New York!" He giggled a little—a very strange sound, coming from Roger—and Mark sighed. So much for keeping his drug problem secret.

Benny grinned at him and shook his hand. "Hey. Thanks for letting me stay. Name's Benjamin Coffin the Third, or Benny."

Roger nodded solemnly. "Benny." Then he dropped the solemn face and burst into laughter. "Tha's like...a dog's name!"

Benny raised his eyebrows. "Dude...being drunk at ten am is so not cool."

Roger made a "pfft" sound and shook his head. "I'm not drunk, man, this is just me. Like...it's who I am. Get it?"

That's enough. Mark stood up, grabbing Roger by the arm. "Okay, Rog, back into your room. You can come out later."

Roger glared at him. "You really wanna be my mom, don' you? Don' you?" Mark rolled his eyes. "Yes, I want to be your mother. Get the fuck into your room."

Benny looked a little concerned. "Hey, Mark, chill. What's the big deal? Isn't this his place, too?"

April appeared in the doorway to Roger's room. "Babyyyyy..." she drew out the word in a whiny tone, "come back to bed. I wanna fuuuuuck."

Benny raised his eyebrows at Mark, who ignored him. Roger pulled her close, pressing their hips together and kissing her neck. "Why don't we fuck right here? Might teach Marky something." They both laughed, and Mark turned bright red. April met his eyes over Roger's shoulder, and there was definitely something in there he hadn't seen before, and it wasn't heroin. Something glinted in those eyes, pure and sharp.

Finally Roger relented and ushered her back into their room, leaving Mark to close the door on their uninhibited sounds of enjoyment. Swallowing, he turned to Benny. "Sorry, they're, uh..."

Benny blinked at him. "Uh, wow. That was interesting."

Mark shrugged. "What can you do? They're...he's not really like that. You just got him at a, uh, weird time."

"Yeah...weird time. Whatever you say. Girlfriend's got a nice ass, though."

Mark didn't even respond, just retreated into his room. On his way, he called, "Welcome to the loft."