Author's Notes: Thank you again to everyone who's reading this story and to everyone who's reviewed. I know it's taken me extra long to get this chapter up and I apologize for that. I will try to get up Chapter 5 by Monday at the latest! I really hope you enjoy this chapter and the next one will be even better. Disclaimer: Rent belongs to Jonathan Larson and I just use them for some fun. Enjoy!
Chapter 4 - Celebrations
I couldn't believe now how beautifully I captured the fireworks. The light reflected off the sky perfectly and it was a moment forever captured in perfection through the lens of my camera. I watched as the rest of the fireworks continued and soon after as the camera focused its lens on him.
His face was admiring the spectacle before us, eyes wide with excitement with every burst of light that shone through the sky. He had a true smile, one that had been lost through April and the drugs and through the disease. This was before any of that – before he still had his hopes and dreams and thought his world was unbreakable. That he was born to fulfill some great destiny.
I keep filming, alternating between shots of Roger's face and the sky above. I don't film anyone else besides Roger and the fireworks and I think Collins and Benny might have been there. I believe the four of us went out to watch the fireworks that year together. Just four roommates enjoying the holiday, taking a moment out of the chaos that was our lives. I took the opportunity to film my friends – my best friend – and am forever grateful for the film clip to this day.
I watch as Roger mouths something to the camera and I can't quite make it out. I pause the film and rewind it, closely examining the motion in his lips and make out one phrase.
"Isn't it beautiful?"
I just want to jump in the camera and tell him that it truly is. The light that reflects in his eyes, gives off this magical appeal to the whole thing and I suddenly feel like I'm momentarily placed back to that time, the time when things were so much better.
The clip ends and the reel moves on to shots of children playing with hoses in the streets, trying to cool off in the hot, July heat. The film continues, but I lie down on my back, staring up at the dark ceiling, and remember being in the exact same position on that warm, July night.
I stopped filming as the fireworks ended, the loud eruptions from the grand finale still ringing in my ear. I place my camera at my side and turn to look at each of my friends. Benny and Collins are carrying on a conversation about the Constitution and other history related things and I'm sitting next to Roger, who's staring off into space.
"Whatcha lookin' at?" I ask him, my curiosity peaked.
He stops gazing into space, stares down at the ground, then back up at me. "Oh, I don't know."
"Oh," I reply. "It's just that Benny and Collins are having this conversation with big words and deep thinking and I promised myself I wouldn't ever again discuss anything doing with the Constitution after my tragic high school history project."
I realized I was rambling at the same time Roger began to laugh at me. "Tragic high school history project?" he asks in between his laughter.
"Uh, yeah. So… wow, I can't believe I'm telling you this," I mutter, glad that it's quite dark outside so Roger couldn't see how red my face was getting.
"What, did you fall off the stage in the middle of reading the Declaration of Independence or something?" he asks and I smile at his suggestion.
"Oh, I wish. That would be moderate compared to the tragedy I've been through," I mutter. I take this moment to lie down against the deep grass, remembering the story that I'm dreading telling Roger.
"Mark, come on, you have to tell me now!" he says, lying down beside me.
"Okay, but you promise you can't tell anyone, that means Benny and Collins too," I say, turning my head to face his. He cracks a smile and responds, "Alright, promise."
"We were doing this project in my junior year history class and I was in this group with three girls that I was friends with through the theater department. So, they had this great idea that we would dress up like the writers of the Constitution and then read it or do whatever. So, for some reason, I agreed to do this spectacle," I pause, take a deep breath, and continue. "Anyway, they made me wear this hideous wig and outfit and I'm standing in front of 60 of my classmates and the girl next to me… well, she got really into her speech, and accidentally swung back and punched me in the face. The next thing I know I'm at home, lying in my bed."
"You what?" he says, baffled by my story.
"The girl punched me so hard I blacked out and they had to carry me out, that's right," I said quickly, the words running together and a bit of anger comes out through it.
"A girl punched you so hard that you… blacked out?" he asked, almost too afraid to say it.
"Yes, so, go ahead, laugh, make fun of me, do what you do best," I ramble to him.
He turns and smiles at me, "I'm not going to make fun of you… for right now anyway. But seriously, man, a girl?"
"Trust me, I know," I reply.
Collins and Benny had stopped their conversation and stood up in front of us. Benny cleared his throat and we both glared up at him.
"You guys ready to leave?" he asked us.
"Meh," I replied, but got up from my position on the ground. Roger followed suit and we quietly walked behind our two other roommates.
That was the first time I really opened up to Roger. The first time I knew I could trust him with everything and anything and we've been like that ever since. We know everything there is to know about each other – there are no boundaries untouched. We've seen each other in our most fragile states of being and helped one another recover.
There's one moment I've been saving. I believe it'll make the best ending for my project, considering who I'm making it for and why I'm making it. Roger's birthday, of course. I carefully pulled the film reel out of its case and placed it into the projector. I was filled with excitement in anticipation to watch it, knowing that the clip in the projector is the best part of making the film to begin with.
The scene before me was one I was used to – everyone hanging out in the loft, Collins, Maureen, Joanne, Roger, Mimi, and I. I was playing filmmaker, of course, for the occasion of Roger's birthday, his birthday last year, as a matter of fact. I figured it was a way to show that even though so many things have changed in a year, the things that really matter have stayed the same. We still have each other, our friends, our true family.
Roger looks a little apprehensive about the whole situation of a party in honor of his birthday. He always hates it when we fuss about his birthday, but we continue doing it anyway. The camera zooms in on the cake Maureen and Joanne brought over, plates and forks beside it, and cups scattered around.
My camera captures Mimi and Collins in deep conversation and now, watching this clip over again, I'm not quite sure what they're talking about. But I have a pretty good idea. Considering everything that happened after Roger's birthday last year, the facial expression on Mimi's face gives so much away. I almost can't believe a whole year since Roger's last birthday…
"Mark, are you going to put down that camera for at least two minutes to help me with you know what," Maureen says to me and I drop my camera to my side. You know what was Roger's presents, none of which he knew he was getting. He insisted that we didn't buy him anything this year, but we couldn't let that happen. So I followed Maureen into my room where the small pile of gifts was sitting on my bed. She grabbed the large one that Maureen, Joanne, and Collins got him together, whereas I grabbed the small gift I had for my roommate. We walked back out into the main room and walked straight over to Roger.
"It's time for presents!" Maureen screeched in front of him, dropping their large present in front of Roger.
"I told you guys not to get me anything," he mumbled, but still surprised by the large gift sitting in front of him.
"Roger, you're a member of our family, and that means you get a present on your birthday," Collins, the voice of reason, tells him. Roger examines the wrapped gift more carefully.
"It's from Joanne, Collins, and I," Maureen tells him proudly. He starts unwrapping the gift carefully to find a box. He carefully pulls off the lift to find his gift: it was an amazing, large, framed picture of Roger up on stage from his days with the Well Hungarians. The photo was courtesy of me – they had asked me if they had any good photos of Roger performing, and of course I said yes. He pulled the frame out of the box and examined it. It was a beautiful picture of him and the frame accented it perfectly.
"Aw man, guys, this is great, thank you so much," he says, almost in awe of the picture, but he seemed genuinely pleased with the gift. I was happy to see him so happy about something for once.
I glanced over at Mimi, who was peeking over Roger's shoulder to look at the frame. He was staring at it, examining it ever so carefully, taking in every detail of it – the guitar, the lights, the sweat dripping off of his brow, and his facial expression. He seemed so happy in the picture and I hope by looking at it he wasn't going to into depression again about the state of things. It was his birthday and I didn't want to deal with a sad Roger.
I glanced down at my gift, which I hid behind my back temporarily. Maureen gave me a funny look, almost to say, 'go ahead, give him your gift', but I couldn't do it. Everyone here, watching, it would seem wrong. It was meant to be opened by Roger and me together, alone, and that was that. I hide the small package underneath a jacket and joined the rest of the group in examining Roger's gift.
It was getting rather late, so Joanne, Collins, and Maureen headed out. I started picking up a few things, considering I didn't need film clips of everyone leaving. Roger and Mimi were quietly talking by the door, and soon enough I heard the loft door close. Roger's footsteps softly made their way to the couch, where I heard him flop down on the rather dysfunctional sofa.
I put down what I was cleaning up and made my way to sit down across from him on the couch. "You have a good time, birthday boy?"
"Honestly, yes, yes I did," he replies, flashing me a small smile.
"Good, but hey," I say, pulling the small, wrapped parcel from underneath its hiding spot. "I got you something, but I wanted to wait to give it to you."
"Man, you didn't need to get me anything," he says as I place the parcel in his lap. He glances down at it and slowly picks it up.
"Roger, it's your birthday. Anyway, it's hardly anything, just something I found that you might like," I quietly inform him.
"Alright, alright," he says, while pulling back the brown paper I used to wrap it with.
He finally had it unwrapped and glared down at it. I tried to judge his reaction, but was unable to. He sat in silence for at least thirty seconds, glaring down at the object, and I had to resist the urge to jump down his throat and tell me what he thought. He finally broke the silence after what seemed to be the longest wait of my life.
"Mark, wow," was his only reply. I had given him what seemed to be the only logical gift he'd accept. I had been in his room a couple of weeks ago and realized that nowhere in it did he have a picture of the two of us together. As I was going through all the pictures I had for Maureen, Joanne, and Collins' present, I found one of the two of us, on New Years Eve a couple of years ago, sitting on the roof of the loft, smiling and happy. The lights from the city framed the background and it captured our friendship perfectly. I almost cried when I saw the picture and knew it was perfect. It told him everything I never could say.
"I just figured, well, you didn't have any pictures of us together and… um… yeah," I rambled as he was lightly touching the frame with his hands.
"God, this has to be from, what, four years ago?" he asked, bringing his head up to face mine, and I could see a small tear running down the side of his face.
"Uh, yeah, I think so," I quietly reply.
"Thanks man, this is perfect," he muttered, still staring at the picture.
"Cool," I say, standing up to go back to my chores, when I feel his hand grab my wrist.
"Uh, wait," he says, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to look at him, where he motions me to sit down beside him.
"Yeah?" I say, curious to why he's acting funny.
"You're a great friend Mark, I never get to tell you that," he says, very firm in his statement. "God, I think anyone else would have left by now with all the shit I've done. But you've always stayed. So thanks."
I know I'm blushing, I can feel my cheeks get red. I smile at him and simply reply, "Uh yeah… You know I never could leave you or this place."
It was the truth, too. I could never leave him or the loft if someone paid me a million dollars or tried dragging me out of here. I looked down at the film in front of me, writing down on the small spot to identify the piece: For Roger, on his birthday. I was pleased with my finished project, it was everything I imagined for him and so much more. Now, I have to wait three days to give it to him, I don't know if I'll be able to last that long. It'll be worth it though, to see the look in his eyes when he sees all the moments we've shared together on this film.
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