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Don't forget to pick up my DRYCLEANING, pookie, I know you know I need it for the show, baby, don't forget to cut off the tags and--OH! Feel free to use YOUR credit card. Seems that mine's maxed out. LOVE, MAUREEN!''
BEEEEP. The message machine's irritatingly loud
noise seemed to skyrocket through Mark's already aching cranium. Film
was tied and tangled around his feet, the camera lying sideways on
the table. Collins, standing in the kitchen, salvaging a little bit
of beef stew from a can, and Roger was nowhere to be found.
Angel,
hovering around Mark's shoulder, patted him on the back
lightly.
Oh, honey,'' Angel said sadly, I think you've killed
your camera.''
Mark turned to shoot Angel a dirty look.
It's
not dead just…I dunno, dissected. Let me be, I need to
concentrate.''
Why don't you just marry that thing?'' Collins'
booming voice was amused.
…Because I think there's some sort
of law against marrying a machine.'' Mark said flatly, clearly not in
the mood for humor. …grr…'' Frustration riddled his features as
more film spat out unevenly and seemed to crawl across the table.
Why isn't this--working?'' He gave the film a final tug and
it slid free--too easily free! OOF!'' He had yanked far too hard,
and managed to wind up on the floor, amongst the pile of uncut film
with a sharp, resounding CRASH''.
…Oooowww…''
Mark?
Omigod, are you okay?'' Angel squeaked, dancing from foot to foot and
biting a nail in anxiety. COLLINS! Come quick! I think Mark just
killed himself!''
What!''
…Um, it's alright,
Angel…really, I'm okay. I just sort of wish someone could have
caught me before I fell.'' Mark intoned sourly. Collins, having run
into the room at the noise, and finding Mark in a heap, decided it
would be best to laugh outrageously at the skinny filmmaker's
expense. How cruel.
What's the buzz, boys?'' A voice drawled
from the doorway. With a bag of groceries perched on one, slender
shoulder was Roger, the remaining bachelor of the group, his quirky
smile fastened in place and good-humor in his eyes. Collins, taking
the bag from him, smiled right back, jerking his head at the fallen
Mark.
Roger raised an eyebrow.
Mark, are you making love to
your film?''
NO!''
Seriously, dude, there's a limit to how
much a guy can love his own work…''
NO!''
But, if
you're into that sort of thing…''
I SAID NO,' DAMMIT!'' Mark,
showing far more emotion than he had in days, kicked aside the film
and stormed out of the room.
Come on, son, have a heart,''
Collins muttered to Roger.
After all, it's Valentine's Day,''
Angel said softly.
I guess I could help out Mark, a
little…doesn't matter anyway,'' Roger grumbled, tugging his collar
into place and striding after Mark.
Angel, clutching Collins' arm,
smiled affectionately.
They're so cute together.''
They
just don't know it,'' Collins agreed, ushering Angel towards the
door.
Apparently, Collins forgot about the soup, for it started to
burn.
Mark?''
Roger? What do you want, get
lost…''
I came to see if the camera was
alright--''
Liar.''
…Okay I'll give you that. What's the
damage?'' Roger slowly sat down on the bed next to Mark, who was
biting his lower lip and trying to reel the camera's film back into
place, without much success.
It's pretty much trashed, I'll
need new film--''
You don't have the cash.''
I'll sell some
old work--''
To that cold-blooded woman?''
…Well, it's
not like I'm burning my money, now, is it?''
I dunno, Mark, your
last bit was shit.''
Gee, thanks, Roger.''
Anytime,
pal…now, what's really bugging you?'' Roger sat back and folded his
arms across his chest. Mark, still biting his lip, lowered the camera
to the bed, and, standing up, began to pace, back and forth…
It's
just…Ever since Maureen left, things have gone downhill. I don't
know whether to sink or swim, or just give up, I've gotten so
depressed. It takes a lot for me to even get dressed in the
morning--I'm clearly not at my best. I want to help out you
guys--Collins, Angel, and you, Roger--but how am I supposed to make a
life when I can't even get over Maureen?''
I know your pain, and
I know a few ways, to make you feel better,'' Roger said
smoothly.
You do?'' Mark asked with some surprise.
Roger
stood up, and Mark, staring at him, realized that Roger smelled a
bit…funny.
Have you been drinking?'' Mark asked with
disbelief. Roger's lips curled into a devilish smile, and, pressing a
hand against the wall beside Mark's shoulder, said lightly,
Only
one way to find out…you gotta taste-check.''
Now, hang on just
a minute--'' Mark protested, but Roger was already upon him! Well, it
wasn't all bad…Mark's mind swam as Roger's lips pressed against
his, firmly, and warmly. He clutched at Roger's shirt--clearly, to
push him off, of course, not to keep him….um…so close. He
shut his eyes, and, realizing he was actually returning the kiss,
broke off abruptly with a sharp gasp.
I--I'm straight!'' He
whimpered, shoving Roger weakly. Roger smiled widely, eyes crinkling
with the effect.
So am I.'' He said lazily. And for your
information, Mark, straight men don't kiss like you
do.''
So! You've been kissing other men, have you?'' Roger,
still close, was about to lean forward and kiss those pouting lips,
but Mark stopped him.
Wait…do you smell something
burning?''
Only my love for y--''
Oh, shut up! FUCK! The
stew!''
…Fuck!''
-END SCENE I-
