Author's Notes: I'm astonished with the reviews from the first chapter! Thank you to all who reviewed, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the last! Once again, Rent belongs to Jonathan Larson, I just use Mark, Roger, and the rest of them for fun! Thanks for reading and enjoy!
Chapter 2 – The Bird Killer
It had been a terribly long day and I desperately wanted to crash for the evening. However, I knew I had far too many reels of film to go through if I wanted to get Roger's project done on time. I had a nice, steaming hot cup of tea ready to go and I was ready for a long night of remembering ahead.
I popped in the first reel I had on top of the stack and it began to play. I sat back and watched as various clips flashed upon the screen, but one scene that began to play took me by surprise. It was something I remember so clearly now and I rewind the film to watch it again. This would definitely go on his film because it meant so much to the two of us. I still remember that day as if it were yesterday…
When I first moved into the loft, Roger hated me. Hated me more than I humanly thought possible for one human to hate another human. I might be exaggerating, but still, it was a bit unbearable for me. Collins, Benny, and I got along great. However, Roger was Roger, and would find ways to let me know that he believed I didn't belong in the loft.
I had just returned from another wonderful day of wandering around the city and filming whatever I found to be interesting. I opened the loft door to find an empty living area, which was very uncommon recently. I threw down my stuff and practically threw myself down on the couch. I began to relax when I heard the shuffling of feet coming from Roger's room.
I took a deep breath in, praying that he wasn't going to come out and bother me. I was tired and wasn't ready for another strained conversation. So I quietly gathered my things and slinked into my room, careful to make hardly any noise. I climbed onto my tattered mattress and tried to relax. However, the noises coming from the living area startled me from my relaxation.
I leaned up against the door to listen to the noises, "Shoo… shoo… what the hell… stupid bird…"
Roger was screaming and batting at what sounded to be a bird that had made its way into our humble loft. I carefully opened the door an inch to look out and I could see him clearly standing up on the couch, a magazine in hand, tempting to battle the bird. I retreated back to my belongings and grabbed my camera. This was an opportunity I hadn't gotten yet – a chance to get some incriminating film on Roger.
I opened the door just enough so that I could stick the lens of my camera out and could view his actions at the same time. He's managed to jump from couch to table to chair and back in his attempts to defeat his foe. I'm doing my best to stifle my laughter, but eventually it becomes too much and I'm laughing louder than I possibly could even imagine.
I notice Roger glance over at me and my laughter stops immediately. I don't think I've been given a look that could kill before and I almost have the urge to roll up in a little ball and cry at that point. He breaks the silence with his angry response, "What the hell are you laughing at?"
"Uh, nothing, sorry," I mumbled quietly and started to retreat back into my room when he screamed out to me again.
"Well, aren't you going to help me?"
I pause, turning around in confusion. Roger, asking me, for help? I hesitantly opened my door, scanning the room to find the small bird Roger had been fighting so physically. I joined him in the center of the room and picked up an old newspaper to use as my 'weapon'. I stood up on the couch next to Roger and try my hand at swatting at the small creature, but as Roger was unsuccessful, I was even worse at it.
"Are you even trying?" he says to me and I can only reply with, "I'm doing my best!"
"I hate birds," he replies, jumping up to try and hit the thing, but once again is unsuccessful.
We continue at it for a couple more minutes, each taking our turns jumping up and swatting at our arch nemesis. Finally, by mere luck, I jump higher than I had ever jumped before and managed to make contact with the small beast, bringing it to the ground with my swift swing.
"You did it!" Roger exclaimed, jumping down off the couch and going over to examine my kill. I walked up beside him to see the small bird's wings flap as it finally brings them down to rest.
"I didn't think I hit it that hard," I state, almost in shock at what I've done.
"Man, you really took it out," he replied, kneeling down to look at the dead bird.
I walked over to grab my camera and brought it up to start filming, "Dead bird. I managed somehow to jump up with a newspaper and kill our intruder." I paused as Roger smiled back up at the camera. It was the first real smile he had ever given me and I had it here, on my camera. It was possibly the happiest I had felt since I arrived in the loft. I brought my camera down away from my face as Roger stood up.
"You know, you might just prove to be useful around here," he commented, patting me on the back. I tried hard not to smile to outrageously, but I probably looked like an idiot the way I was grinning.
"Uh… thanks," I reply, turning around to head back into my room.
"Hey, wait," he calls out and I whip around to face him.
"Yeah?" I reply.
"You're not going to tell everyone about me jumping up and down and looking like an idiot are you? And you better not show anyone that film… the first part anyway," he says with a hint of concern in his voice. So, the hardcore rocker is worried about his image being shattered. I almost would love to show this to everyone I know… but I never could do that if I ever wanted to be friends with Roger.
I give him a smile and reassure him, "Don't worry, I won't say anything."
"Uh, good to hear. Hey, you want to go grab a bite to eat?" he asks me and I almost drop my camera after hearing the words come out of his mouth.
"With… with me?" I stutter out in shock.
"Yes, you, bird killer," he laughs at me.
"Sure!" I reply over excitedly and I continue, "I mean, yeah, that'd be good."
"Cool, grab your stuff and let's go," he tells me and we head out together.
So that's how it all began. I remember when we returned back to the loft from eating, smiling and having a civil conversation. The look on Collins and Benny's faces was priceless. I don't think they ever understood what possibly could have happened to change Roger's mind about me, but I know they're glad he did. I'm glad he did as well. I don't know what I would be today without him.
I glanced down at the pile of film reels and grabbed another one. There were so many moments I wish I had on film, which must sound funny coming from me. I get nearly everything on film; my camera practically is glued on my hand. However, there were several moments that it just wasn't right to film or I just didn't film them for various reasons. One of them was the day my mother came and visited me here at the loft for the first – and last – time.
I had been up far too late the night before with Maureen and had the urge to kill whoever was pounding loudly on my door. I threw on my glasses and a shirt and shuffled my way to my door, opening the door slowly, the bright light blinding my vision.
"What," I mumble to whoever is pounding at my door.
"Mark, you better let me in," Roger tells me with concern in his voice.
I open the door just enough to let my roommate enter my messy room and turn to face him. "Whatever it is, tell me now so I can go back to bed."
"No man, you can't go back to bed. Your mom just called," he informs me and I feel my stomach do a sort of flip flop. I can't tell by the tone in Roger's voice what I should be worried about.
"And…" I motioned to him to continue.
"She's coming here," he said grabbing a hold of my shoulders, shaking me, and making my head hurt a little bit.
I take a moment to think about what he's just told me and it hits me. "What?"
"I just said, she's coming here, to visit you," he explained to me much clearer and I suddenly have the urge to vomit.
"Why?" I said, throwing my hands in the air.
"To hell if I know. But you better get changed or shower or whatever else you're supposed to do when your mom comes to visit!" he screams at me.
"Shit. This isn't good," I reply, while taking a moment to sit down on my bed and rub my eyes with both hands.
"No kidding, the last time Benny's parents came to the loft they acted like crazy people," he commented.
"Just wait until you meet my mother…" I mutter, already getting a headache from the lectures I will sure enough be getting when she arrives.
"So here's what you're gonna do," he starts while pacing in front of me. "First, you should probably clean up your room. Next, you should probably take a shower. I'll clean up the kitchen and whatever else she might look at."
"Okay…" I reply, confused by Roger's behavior, but slightly relieved that he's willing to try and help me get out of this alive. I let out a small moan in frustration and begin to pick up the mess in my room while Roger leaves to go implement his part of the plan.
My mom arrives at the loft two hours later and as soon as we hear the knock on the door, Roger scurries as fast as a mouse into his room. I have to admit, he was a huge help in cleaning up the place so it looked at least organized. I took a deep breath before advancing to the door, slowly pulling it open to see my mother standing in front of me. She practically jumped on top of me, grabbing me into a huge hug.
"Mom, I can't breathe," I mumble out in between breaths.
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," she replies, pulling away and walking right into the center of the loft. I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable distaste with my living arrangements.
"Well, isn't this… interesting," she declares, walking briskly around the space, taking in the entirety of it.
"It's home," I reply from my position by the door.
"Where are those roommates of yours?" she asks, obviously grilling me for information.
"Uh… I don't know," I quickly reply, partially telling her the truth considering that I didn't know where Collins and Benny were and I didn't want Roger to come out and have a conversation with my mother.
"What a shame, I wanted to meet them all," she says, while peeking into our bathroom to examine it. Her analysis follows after she comes out. "This doesn't exactly look… clean."
"We manage," I reply, praying for someone to come take me away.
"Alright, let's get out of here," she says, finally making her way back to me. "How about some lunch, you look far too skinny, honey."
"Sure, sounds great," I reply, knowing that a simple lunch with my mother wouldn't be that bad. Plus, hey, free food. So off I went to share a meal with my mother who I hadn't seen in months…
I slowly made my way up the flight of stairs, returning home from an interesting lunch with my mother. She was right behind me, telling me how Cindy and her kids were doing, and I could hear little comments about me having kids of my own. I tried not to make my snide comments too loud.
I opened the loft door to see an empty loft and a sigh of relief passes over me. I can't risk peeking in Roger's room to see if he's in there, so I bring my mom in and find my way to sit down on the couch.
"Sorry, doesn't look like anyone else is here," I inform her, since during the entire meal she was ranting about not getting to meet any of my roommates.
"Well, that's a shame. Anyway, honey, there's a reason I came here today," she starts and I knew this was trouble to begin with. She wouldn't have just up and decided to come visit me. I knew she had to have a reason.
"Great… what is it?" I reply.
"Well, it's just that, your father and I never imagined you'd actually decide to stay out here. We figured you'd give up on this whole fantasy thing you've decided to pursue…"
I cut her off at that point, "It's not a fantasy thing. I'm a filmmaker."
"Well, whatever dear. What I'm trying to say is, why don't you come back home? Or go back to school? Maybe a smaller community college or something of the sort… it doesn't have to be a big university…"
I stood up in shock, "Are you kidding me?"
"No, honey. I mean, look at you, you're so skinny, and this apartment… it's not ideal living conditions…"
"Mom, you don't understand, I like it here," I inform her.
"I mean, you could be easily mugged or killed or something of the sort… and then what would happen to you?" she says in her motherly tone.
"You don't have to worry about me," I reassure her.
"But I do, which is why I think you should come home with me today," she responds.
I start to laugh a little and then look up at the serious expression on her face, "No Mom, I'm not coming home with you."
"Mark, please," she insists, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards my bedroom.
Then, a new voice enters the picture, so loud and clear, "Mark isn't going anywhere he doesn't want to go."
I turn around, pulling away from the grip my mother had on me to see Roger standing in the doorway to his room. I smile at him and he walks over to where we were standing.
"Mrs. Cohen, Mark belongs here. If you can't see that, then you obviously don't know him very well. It was very nice of you to visit, but I think for your sanity you best be leaving," he informs her and I step back to stand beside him.
"Well, okay," she responds, heading towards the door. "It was nice to see you, Mark."
I step towards her and let her hug me goodbye and she finally leaves my sacred home. I walk over and plop down on the couch and Roger follows right behind me.
"Thank you," I tell him.
He shrugs his shoulders and leans back against the back of the couch, "Benny's parents did the same thing."
"Really?" I reply.
"Yeah, except they weren't as nice about it," he explains. I lay down, still tired as hell from the night before.
"I need to sleep for days after that…" I reply and we both laugh. Everything was going to be okay.
So Roger helped me win the battle with my mother that day. I wish I had him telling off my Mom on film. It was one of those moments that we had shared between us that will forever only be remembered by those who experienced it, unlike the thousands of memories I capture on film. I guess neither one of us ever talked about it, I know I didn't it, and I'm pretty sure Roger wouldn't have reason to. I'll find some way to incorporate it into the film, considering how much of an impact he had on me that day. He stood up for me and what I believed in, something no one else had been willing to do for me before.
I stood up from the film that had been paused on the screen for awhile as I had been reminiscing. I turned off the projector and rubbed my tired eyes. It had already been a long day; I didn't need to make it a long night either. I jumped on my squishy mattress and went through the numerous memories I had experienced today…
Thank you again for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated, so thank you for taking the time to review!