A/N: Sorry. I never apologized for the language in the last chapter. Whoopsies. Sorry if you stumbled on that and didn't like it. I'm fixing it so I have a note at the beginning warning you guys in case I offended anybody. No language this time. I don't think...I write very spontaneously. If I feel like they would swear, they swear. If I think it sounds weird, they don't. RAMBLE! Dammit. Those of you who know me know I ramble WAY too much. And I've been so good in this story. RAMBLE, RAMBLE, RAMBLE. –zippy the lippy-

A Thing Like Life – Chapter Four

"Come on, Mimi, just a few more steps..." I carry Mimi up the steps, Roger on her other side, laughing at Mimi and her drunken swagger.

Mimi turns to look at me. "Hey, Mmmark. You knnnow that mmmovie thhhingy you're gonna wwwatch?"

"What about it, Mimi? WOAH, no," I pull Mimi back up as she misses the next step and starts slipping down a step, "we're going up the stairs, not down."

"I was jjjust thhhinking...did you evvverrrr get some good shhhhots of mmme 'n my Rrrogerrr getting it onnnn?" She's so drunk she doesn't seem able to get much farther. Thankfully, Roger and I finally hoist her up onto the landing, as Roger uses his free hand to turn the handle and shoves the door open to drag Mimi into the loft and throw her onto the couch as she laughs loudly.

"Don't think so. You always lock the door." I don't bother pointing out that at the time I was making that movie she and Roger were still fighting as Roger laughs at his girlfriend.

Mimi goes off rambling about something, and Roger turns to me. "How much did she drink?"

I shrug. "No idea. Thank god the bartender knew her and let us off on her drinks. We only had to pay for my one and your one."

Roger looks away and puts his hand on Mimi's forehead. "I hope she doesn't get herself sick."

I laugh. "Mimi? She's fine. She could drink all night and she'd shrug it off." I roll my eyes, going into my room.

Just before I'm about to shut the door behind me, I hear Roger say something suddenly. "Mark, are you going in to watch those clips again?"

I freeze, opening the door a little wider as I turn to face him. "Yeah. I'll be cool. I need to do this. You just make sure Mimi's OK."

I'm about the shut the door again when Roger is suddenly there, holding it open. "I don't know if you should watch those alone..." His eyes wander to the ground, as do mine. There is a silence between us. I know he's worried about me, worried I'll come across something like the last thing I found. Suddenly, Roger continues. "I think you're right. Mimi's going to be cool in there. Look. She's gone to sleep and everything."

I look over Roger's shoulder, and, sure enough, Mimi is dozing away on the couch. I laugh, shrugging. "You ready to start this?"

Roger nods. "Let's get going."

I let him come into the room, shutting the door so as not to wake Mimi while we're watching. I pick up the box, looking for the next tape. "Let's see...March Seventeenth, Nineteen-Ninety."

"St. Patty's Day? You serious?" Roger laughs. "Wonder how drunk we got."

"I didn't get drunk, psycho," I say, as I pull out the film, winding it into the projector as usual. "You were the one who got completely wasted, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." He smirks slightly. "Why the hell did you cut St. Patty's Day? What happened then?"

I'm silent as I switch on the projector. "Just watch."

.-.-.

"March Seventeenth, 10:00 PM, Eastern Standard Time. Saint Patrick's Day. The whole gang is out getting drunk, even though Roger and Mimi are avoiding each other again."

I glance at Roger, but he doesn't look at me, simply watching the image on the blank wall. I turn back, wondering if he missed the comment or something.

"First Shot: Roger, getting completely drunk. He won't be able to get home at this rate." I laughed, filming Roger as he toasts random objects and downs another mug of beer.

Roger laughs, turning to look at me. "Yep, I got drunk."

"I already said that." Even though I'm a little annoyed, I can't help smirking.

"'Course I'll get home! We're just across the street!" Roger laughed wildly.

I laughed at Roger and spoke in an undertone to the camera. "Amazingly, the beer has not left him completely void of ability to make coherent words and string them together. That's a record for him at this point."

"You little..." Roger makes as if to do something, but I simply laugh. It's easier watching it with Roger's commentary. Normally I would have hated it, but it's not so bad now.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I quickly lowered my camera to see Mimi behind me. I raised my eyebrows, questioning her. She jerked her head to a table away from the bar, and, after a sideways glance at Roger, I got up, going over to her and sitting down. I raise my camera to face her, looking at her over the camera. She never minded it as much as Roger usually did.

"What's up?" She looked really concerned about something.

She glanced over at Roger, who is still drinking and toasting things like 'Kleenex'. "It's..."

I fidgeted slightly, pulling my camera up as if to make sure it's focused correctly on her. The image sharpened slightly, and I kept my camera raised, watching Mimi through the camera. "Mimi, I'm not sure I'm the one to talk about this with..."

Mimi looked desperate. "You're his roommate. You've known him a lot longer than me...and maybe you can answer a question I have."

I grew quite uncomfortable, but I worked very hard not to show it. "Ok. Shoot."

Mimi sighed. "Well...I was wondering...how has he been lately?"

That wasn't the question I had been expecting. "Erm...what do you mean?"

She seemed to be getting nervous too. "I mean...with everything. He's been acting really funny lately..."

"Well, if you're talking about now, I think you're judging him at a bad time." At the present he was speaking in an Irish accent with Collins, who was also getting considerably drunk. I could hear the two of them saying things like 'Top o' the morning!' at the top of their lungs.

"Mark, come on. Seriously. Like...with the AIDS and all." It had obviously taken a lot of work for her to muster up the courage to say that.

I blinked, still watching her through the camera. "Yeah, I guess..."

"You're not looking at her." Roger says it like it was an average comment, but it only drove the dagger that was currently digging into my heart in further. I remain silent, watching the film as it continues to roll.

"What? Did you think he was...getting sick or something?

She sighed. "No, you take good care of him. I swear, sometimes I think he's so careless he'd forget to take his pill if you didn't constantly remind him." Her eyes drifted to the table, looking at her twiddling thumbs. "But...it can be hard sometimes. Dealing with it all."

She paused, as if expecting me to say something. I remained silent, however, simply filming her. She therefore decided to continue. "I mean, thinking all the time, 'I'm going to die someday'...it can really get to a person. It gets to me...and bad. Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going is Roger. If he was to leave me..."

"Mimi, I don't think he's going to leave you." I said it very strongly as if I was a hundred percent sure he would never leave her. But I hid my fears about their relationship. They had been fighting so much lately.

"I mean, before, all I could use to get away from it all was...you know..." Her thumbs kept twiddling, circling each other furiously. "...The thrill. The high I got off of it. But Roger...he gives me something more. And the high I got off of smack doesn't come near it..." She laughed lightly. "I dunno, this probably doesn't make sense to you..."

"Kinda..." I sighed, lowering my camera. "We'd better go stop Roger before he does something stupid."

The footage cuts short. I rise mechanically and begin to remove the film from the projector. I pretend to not hear the sobs coming from my bed where Roger sits as I re-roll the film into it's canister. I duck underneath the table, setting the film back into the box. I kneel there, resting my head in my hands.

Roger's voice is racked with sobs as he speaks out. "I-I-I was such an idiot, Mark..."

I get up, going immediately to Roger, sitting beside him. "Both of us were. And we can't change the past."

"Then why the hell are we re-living it!" Roger looked up at me, tears falling from his face. "Why are we going through this again? Are we all sadists or something?"

I cast my eyes down. "I'm doing it because I've feared the past for so long. I need to do this for myself. You don't have to go through this with me."

Roger breathes heavily for a moment. "I'm doing it with you, whether I like it or not." He breaks down again, sobbing, hiding his face in his hands. I put my arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"OK, now it's my turn, buddy. Just calm down. Everything's...fine." But is it really fine? Am I really watching this for a purpose?

Maybe we are all sadists, a mean little voice tell me from the dark corners of my mind.