Roger fell into a deep depression immediately after Mimi's death. He would wander around the loft with a blank expression on his face, nothing more than a ghost regretting his past. He was slowly killing himself by not taking his AZT when nobody was watching.
"I'm really worried about Roger," Maureen said during a gathering at the loft one day. Roger had just stormed out of the room for no apparent reason.
"Nobody deserves what he's been through," Collins replied. "First April, then Mimi."
Mark said, "It's been eight months since Mimi died though." Collins shook his head.
"Doesn't matter. It's been over a year since Angel died, and it's still hard sometimes."
"But you didn't get as depressed as him. I'm really worried too, but he refuses to go to the hospital."
"He's too weak to fight back. We could borrow Benny's Range Rover, and take him first thing in the morning."
Roger was more than pissed that his friends would betray him like that, but Collins was right, he didn't have the energy to fight back. Everyday, his friends would visit him, and watch him slowly slip away from them. He became increasingly paler, and would have to get all his food and his AZT through at IV. For almost five and a half months, Roger remained in the hospital. By the last two weeks, he was unconscious most of the time.
Mark was late visiting Roger one Wednesday after work. He and Maureen were going to meet up at the hospital before getting together with Joanne to plan yet another protest.
"You're Roger Davis' friend, right?" a nurse asked Mark as he passed the nurses' station. Mark nodded. "Oh good, we've been trying to reach someone all evening. I'm very sorry to inform you that Mr. Davis passed away a few hours ago."
"Roger's
dead?"
"I'm afraid so, I'm sorry for your loss." Mark
nodded again. In reality, he was slightly happy that Roger had died,
that meant that he was with Mimi again.
Mark rubbed his right
temple, and asked, "May I, may I see him please?"
"They've
already taken his body away, but his belongings are still there if
you'd like to go through them." Mark stopped rubbing his temple.
"Please."
The walk to Roger's old room never seemed to end for Mark. Roger's mattress was folded over, with the blankets neatly folded on top of it, along with the pillow.
"I'll umm; I guess I'll leave you alone for a little while. Let me know if you want a box to pack up some of Mr. Davis' belongings," the nurse said.
"Thanks," Mark replied. He looked around the room. Resting on the table next to the bed were the flowers from Maureen in a glass vase from Joanne, and a picture of all the Bohemians from New Years a few years ago…before Angel and Mimi had died. Leaning up against the air conditioner was Roger's guitar with its case next to it. Sprawled out on the table by the door was a collection of his music, and a white envelope. It was exactly like the ones from Angel and Mimi, only this time it had his own name written across it in Roger's messy handwriting. With trembling hands, Mark opened it.
Mark- What's up? By now you probably know that I'm gone. I have three favors to ask of you. 1. Don't mourn over my death. 2. Let Benny move into the loft. We were talking a few weeks ago, and it turns out that Muffy is kicking him out so her boyfriend can move in. Maybe he won't bust your ass about the rent if he lives with you. And 3. In my room is a recording of "Your Eyes", please put it on the radio. I have a feeling that it's my one song glory, even though I won't be there to enjoy the fame. My time's up, I have to go now. Oh, and I'm allowed to tell you this one small thing, as long as you don't tell anyone. There really is a light at the end of the tunnel! I'll see you on the other side! Love (but like a brother), Roger.
Anyone passing by Roger's old room would have never guessed that Mark had just lost his best friend. He silently packed up Roger's belongings; showing no emotion. For nearly an hour, Mark went through his stuff until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Oh Marky," Maureen said quietly as she pulled him into a hug. Without thinking, Mark began to sob. "Its okay, Mark, its okay." Joanne froze in the doorway when she saw Maureen and Mark. She was about to start yelling at Maureen when she saw that Roger was gone. With large eyes, she turned to Collins who was with her. Both of them knew what this meant; his time was limited.
Roger's eyes fluttered open. What was he doing home? Slowly, he got to his feet. On the other side of the loft, a flash of movement caught his eye. In the darkness, he could make out a slim figure with long hair. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door being flung open, and hitting the wall. Wait, that's Mark's room!
"Get up, get up dammit!" a familiar voice shouted. What, that was, it couldn't be!
