A/N: I love the feedback I'm getting here! Keeps me going! My self esteem right now is like...off the meter. I love you all immensely! Keep reviewing, I'll keep writing : )
A/N2: By the way, I have a question. Not really important, but I was just wondering about it earlier. Is it actually stated anywhere that Mark drinks tea and Roger drinks coffee? As we see in the movie, Roger drinks coffee, but I was just wondering if that was established anywhere. In every fanfic I read, that's the way it goes. Just thought it was kinda funny.
Disclaimer: I don't own. I rent. (wink) ...sorry, that was really corny. Ignore me!
Mark walked quickly down the hallway, brushing past Collins.
"Woah, man! Where's the fire?" Collins asked.
"Nowhere. I'm just going to film. I hear there's going to be a mass riot down near Times Square."
"If anyone here should know about a mass riot, the anarchist over here would. There's no mass riot. What's up?"
"Nothing, just let it go." Mark snapped, walking off angrily.
Collins took one uncertain glance at the loft door before walking off.
---
Roger grunted irritably before throwing a pillow across the loft. He really wished he hadn't said what he did.
It's Mark's fault, really. Stupid dick misinterpreted what I said completely.
Sighing, he disregarded the thought.
Maybe I'm the dick.
Kicking the wooden floor, he got off the couch, changed into jeans, put on shoes and quickly put on his leather jacket before leaving the loft.
Better go find him...
---
Mark sat inside the Life Café, filming some girl do a horrible rendition of a Stevie Nicks song.
Karaoke night. Something Mark had no desire to film. Ever.
As long as I don't have to see Roger, I'm fine.
As if on cue, the door swung open and Roger entered, rubbing his hands together. His eyes landed on Mark and he froze completely.
Mark hurriedly got out of the chair and walked past Roger.
"Mark, please..."
"I was just leaving." Mark answered bitterly.
Roger pounded his fist on the bar counter, receiving more than a few irritated looks from the bartenders.
"Beer please. And keep them coming."
---
Later into the next morning, Mark was lying on the couch, eyes wide open when Roger finally returned home. Roger was stumbling and his eyes were bloodshot.
And he was drunk.
"Where the fuck have you been? It's 3 AM. I was this close," Mark held up his hand, fingers just centimeters apart, "From calling the cops. This fucking close! You got an excuse?"
"I was just out taking a walk..." Roger answered, giggling a little bit as he slapped Mark on the shoulder. "Since when do we have two couches?"
Mark turned his head to look at the same, old, single couch they've always had.
"Yeah, and before the walk? What were you doing then?"
"I...might've had a few too many drinks."
"Yeah, a few. Again. Something could've happened to you again. Why am I always chasing you, babying you?" Mark's voice began to get louder.
"Calm down, won't ya Marky?"
"No. I'm going to bed. I don't care what the fuck you do anymore. You can stay, you can leave, just get the fuck out of my sight."
Mark marched angrily to his bedroom, slamming the door shut.
I thought I wouldn't have to chase you anymore.
Guess I thought wrong.
A/N: It's shorter than I wanted, but I think (I hope) I ended it at a good spot. When will Roger learn? Well, tune in for the next chapter!
A/N2: I am sorry to inform you that tomorrow, school starts up again. No more winter break...so updates might not be as fast as I've been making them. I'll definitely try though.