Chapter 4: Screwed

"Zoom out. My life. Act 20, Scene 2. It was Valentine's Day and you decided that we needed to go to a strip club to celebrate. You had to drag me there…"

"Roger, what the hell is up with you and going to strip clubs. It's not as cracked up as you make it out to be. Yay, I get to watch a girl take off her clothes," Mark said as he continued to edit the film he'd shot that day.

"Mark, you hole yourself in this loft all the time. The only thing you go out for is to shoot. And if you do go out other than that, it's because me and Collins have either physically picked you up and dragged you or we've threatened you on pain of death," Roger commented as he fiddled with his guitar.

"Hey, most of the time I wouldn't move when you threatened me on pain of death," Mark pointed out. He'd welcome death if he had the chance. Any chance to not live with what he had to live with would be a lovely idea.

"Common, Mark. You need to get out. Plus, it's Valentine's Day. You don't want to spend all night alone on V-Day man," Roger put his guitar down and walked over to Mark who was still huddled over the projector.

"Roger, not tonight. I really want to finish working on this piece of film. If I don't do it tonight then I'll have to do both parts tomorrow night," Mark stated his point. Roger couldn't ignore his logic.

"But Mark, why not just for tonight? We can come back early if you want. Like around 1 a.m.," Roger pleaded to the filmmaker, resting his hands on Mark's shoulders. He tensed under the songwriter's touch.

"I told you Roger, not tonight. Find one night that I don't have a lot to do and I'll go then. But tonight I can't." Clubs were for people who were alive and not dying. Clubs were for people who would live another day without the worries he had.

"Mark, whether you want to go or not, I'm taking you with me so you might as well come willingly," Roger then went and put on his coat, leaving Mark with his projector and his thoughts.

He wasn't going to go.

He wished Roger had just left him alone after that. But being the person he was, Roger continued to whine till it came down to either Mark came willingly or Roger would throw the younger man over his shoulder and carry him to the bar.

It just so happened that Roger wasn't kidding when he said he'd carry Mark to the club. The filmmaker wasn't too happy when he was flung over the older man's shoulder and forced to go somewhere he had no right to be.

"Look at that girl over there! She is so checking you out!" Roger screamed over the noise of the club. The two boys had made themselves comfortable at the bar. Mark had every intention of getting shitfaced just so Roger would have to take him back to the loft.

"I don't care, Roger. The hottest chick on the planet could be checking me out and I'd still want to be back at the loft finishing the editing of the film," Mark sighed, drinking some more of the cheep beer he'd ordered.

"No, seriously, Mark, she's like totally eying you up and down. You should go over and dance with her!" Roger said, the laughter interrupting his sentence a few times.

"There's no way Roger. I never even wanted to come here in the first place. Why don't you go and find a chick to dance with. I'm not into it," Mark said, downing the last bit of his drink and ordering another. The more he drank and the quicker he drank it meant the sooner he'd be back in his room, in the loft, safely editing his film.

"I'm not letting you come and get nothing out of it," Roger exclaimed, taking Mark's new drink straight out his hands. "I came here to have fun and I brought you along because I thought you'd have fun too. But you, you're just a party pooper. I'm going to get you to loosen up!"

"Just let it be Roger and go and find some girl to screw! God knows that's the only reason you came here! It's Valentine's Fucking Day! We shouldn't be trying to find some lousy fuck! We should be celebrating relationships. Celebrating just being alive and being able to feel!" Mark shouted at Roger, standing up in the process.

Mark took a few deeps breaths and continued, "I'm going back to the loft. I'll see you later. I don't want to ruin your night as well as mine."

"No, common. Just for one night won't you loosen up and just be something other than your detached self?" Roger asked, grabbing his friend around the shoulders and getting him to sit back down.

"Maybe I'm detached because I have to be. It's safer for everyone if I am. That way no one gets attached," Mark mumbled it. It wasn't meant to be heard.

"Mark, just get laid. You'll feel better in the morning."

"I can't. It's not right."

"It'll relieve some of your stress."

"It's not safe, someone could get hurt."

"Just take my advice, moron."

"There's too much at stake! It's not safe!"

Mark stormed out of the club, leaving Roger lost and confused within his own drunken thoughts.

((A/N: Everyone, please, just bare with me on these chapters. You'll find out soon enough why I'm doing them like this.))