Disclaimer: I don't own Rent

Chapter Nine

"Why?" Roger sat on the edge of the bed, tossing his prescription aside. "Why, Mark?"

"I don't know," he sat up, pulling himself into a ball against the headboard. "I knew we couldn't afford it."

"Then why were you so against me working?"

"I didn't want you to worry," he replied. "I wanted everything to be like it was… before."

"It's never going to be like before, Mark," Roger looked away. "It's now. I just wish you would have told me."

"I didn't want you to worry-"

"I worry anyway," Roger cut him off. "I've always worried about this. Even before it happened. Months before it happened I worried. I'll always worry about you."

"I'm sorry…"

"You have to take your medicine," he reached for Mark's hand. "Now that I'm working, we have plenty of money for the rent and stuff."

Mark looked away. He knew Roger knew nothing of how much the rent, food, and AZT cost. Then again, Roger thought there were two sources of income. "No, Roger, we don't."

"Why not? I work and you work… that's enough."

"No, I don't work," Mark felt Roger's hand pull out of his. He tried not to cry as he explained what had happened the previous month.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Roger yelled. He stood up and walked to the other side of the room.

Mark knew he was crying. Roger wasn't supposed to cry. Roger was too tough to cry. "Roger, I'm sorry, I didn't want you to think anything was wrong."

"Everything is wrong," he slammed his fist against the wall. "Mark, you can't do this. You can't keep secrets like this, you can't stop taking your medicine, you can't do this. What's next? Anymore secrets you want to come out with?"

Mark shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just thought I could handle all of it."

"You seem to think you can handle a lot these days," Roger shot before storming out.


Mark didn't want to go out of the bedroom. He rolled over and tried to take a nap. He wasn't sure if Roger had left the loft or just the room. Mark couldn't hear anything in the kitchen. He wiped away his tears and returned his glasses to his face. Swallowing the fear that Roger wouldn't be there, he entered the other room. It was empty. Roger's jacket was gone and the Fender wasn't in it's usual corner. Reminding himself that Roger hadn't packed anything or taken his AZT with him, Mark told himself that Roger would be back soon and he had just gone out to blow off some steam. He flopped onto the couch and fell asleep. When he woke up an hour later with Roger nowhere in sight, Mark wasn't so sure anymore.


Before Roger had stormed out of the loft, he had grabbed his Fender and jacket. He walked quickly down the street, the chilly evening air beginning to sweep in. He wasn't sure where to go, but he had to go somewhere. He couldn't even look at Mark anymore. Roger had never kept any secrets, so what gave Mark that right? Looking at the street sign, Roger realized that he was pretty close to Maureen and Joanne's. He figured they'd let him stay over… and feed him a good dinner.

The guitarist rapped softly on the apartment door and walked in before Maureen could register who was at the door. He sat himself on the couch and rubbed his temples.

Maureen motioned for Joanne to put out another plate as she walked to the couch. "Something wrong?" She sat beside him and took his hand.

"He… he stopped… AZT," Roger mumbled incoherently. "We… fought… I came… here."

"What? Take a deep breath and tell me everything," Maureen replied.

Roger obliged, starting with Mark's opposition to him finding a job, continuing with picking up the AZT, ending with the confrontation. "I don't know why he would do that. I mean, give up his AZT and not telling me."

"That's just Mark. He puts everyone he loves before him," she explained. "I remember he gave up filming… whatever it is he films to pay for one of protests. It was a flop by the way."

Roger nodded. He knew Mark would sacrifice anything. "I just… I just need time to be mad at him."

The phone rang and Joanne went over to answer it.

"Hello… hey Mark." She looked over at Roger who was shaking his head and mouthing something at her. "Mark, listen to me. I'm sure Roger is fine wherever he is." There was a pause. "I'll tell him if I see him. Goodbye Mark."

"What did he want?" Maureen asked.

"He was looking for Roger," Joanne replied. "Roger, he wants you to know that he misses you and wants you to come home."

Roger nodded. "I miss him too."


Roger tossed and turned on Maureen and Joanne's couch all night. Mark's face never left his mind. He wasn't sure what Mark was doing; all he knew is that he would be worried sick. He felt bad that the boy would probably be at home pacing, just waiting for the door to open. But Roger wanted to be mad at him. It would just teach Mark not to keep secrets from him. With that thought, he rolled over and tried to fall asleep again. He knew Mark would be okay for a day or so, and Roger knew deep down that he wouldn't be able to go much longer without Mark.