XXI.

March 22, 1991 – Haircut. Haha.

Whirrrrr…

Zoom in on Roger who, after nearly three years of neglecting his hair and letting it grow wild, had finally decided to have it cut, by his beautiful glowing wife, nonetheless, who was now wielding the shears dangerously above her husband's head.

Mark kept his hands steady as he filmed. Roger had been home for roughly four days. He could say things were almost back to normal, except for the facts that A) their little secret hung heavily over his head, suffocating him like a wool blanket on a summer's day, B) Mimi had taken a leave from work (but not class) to be with her husband the whole day, which was really good for all of them, even when Roger did nothing but sleep and /or rest, C) he and Roger had devised a scheme they devoutly followed to make sure Roger would be able to take the truckload of medicines he had to ingest daily, behind Mimi's back, and D) Roger looked sicker every day, and moved like it too, though he tried to conceal it with his cool, "Hey, what's up?" charm that was often sugarcoated with million-dollar smiles. Mark knew everything wasn't the same, but he tried his best to deal with it, even when he struggled doing so.

"So tell us Rog…what demons have possessed you to make this ultimately life-changing decision?" Mark asked, plastering a grin on his face as he circled Roger, who sat, fidgeting impatiently on a chair set in the living room, a sheet tied around his neck. He could barely look straight at Roger these days, though this time he had to, since he was filming. He caught unwillingly through the lens the almost gaunt face with the cheekbones jutting out more than normal, the day-old beard which only made Roger look sicker since it was unkempt, the dark eyebags and the sickly pallor that seemed to erase anything left that was remotely healthy in the musician. Only his eyes still held the Roger he once knew: unbroken, vibrant and energetic. At the mention of his name, Roger looked up at the camera and gave a small smile.

"Not much…thought I needed a change." He replied. "This hair's been around too long." Mark filmed as Roger got a hold of one of his curls and pulled gently.

"Babe, you're sure about this?" Mimi was glancing down worriedly at her husband, as if she were having second thoughts. "This isn't one of your impulsive, go-with-the-flow decisions you're gonna end up taking back later, is it? 'Coz you do realize, hair doesn't grow back overnight and neither Mark nor I can do anything if you start whining later about it."

Roger looked up at Mimi and gave her a cheeky grin, saying out loud "I love you" as he did.

"Uh-uh, don't you go acting cute now and be such a brat later, got that?" Mimi smiled back. It was all very cheesy, but Mark didn't say anything. It was one of the billion Mimi/Roger moments he'd found himself thrown into often as a third wheel recently. "Okay, Davis, if you say so. I love you too, baby."

Shwik shwik!

The shears went at Roger's hair, chopping curls off in swift massive snips. Mimi had definitely done this before.

"I wish I had my guitar…" Roger moaned softly. Mark almost laughed, remembering how Roger wasn't exactly good at sitting still without anything he was interested in, in his hands. Wispy waves of blonde hair fell softly to the floor like leaves in autumn.

"You baby," Mimi accused, giggling. "It'll only be a little while. You're gonna be so distracted by that guitar that I'll end up cutting your ear off."

"Yikes," Mark commented. "Let's have a close-up on the ear hacker, the beautiful Mimi Marquez-Davis…" Mimi gave the camera a cute little grin with her nose crinkled up, like what a kid or a rabbit would do.

Shwik shwik!

"You know, if Collins were here, he'd have probably be the one cutting Roger's hair," Mark said. Collins had left yesterday for NYU, when he'd made sure everything really was okay. Mark had actually wanted him to suspect something, anything, or to get a whiff of what was really going on, but Collins hadn't. Roger had put up a terrifically convincing act of him being okay. Collins had left, smiling and whistling, assured that everything was fine.

"Oh yeah, he used to be a barber during his college days, to pay the bill y'know…" Roger supplied. "Damn, I wish he didn't have to leave so quickly."

Mark set the camera down to wound it up, only half-absorbing everything Roger was saying. It was his way of detachmenet, he guessed. Besides, he didn't want to analyze too much everything that came out of Roger's mouth. With the secret in hand, most of what Mark heard from him seemed to have a double meaning, but he could be wrong. He watched instead as Dodge sniffed around the area where Roger was having his haircut. The puppy poked at tufts of hair on the floor with his paws, growling softly at it. Mark noticed Dodge had actually taken on some of Roger's characteristics already, making him think that if Rog were a dog, Dodge would be him. Except for the fact that Dodge was actually fat. He was the healthiest one in the whole loft, thanks to his steady stream of dog food as supplied by Maureen and Joanne.

"Hello, Dodger, hi baby…" Mimi cooed as she cut. Mark reached down and got Dodge in his arms.

"Oooh, you're heavy," he commented. "Hey Dodge, you little rascal…"

He enjoyed the feeling of having Dodge in his arms. The warm, familiar weight was nice. He glanced up at Roger, who looked back at them in a funny way, like he'd suddenly realized something.

"When did you start liking dogs again?" he asked. "I thought Achilles was enough to satisfy you of your dog craving for a lifetime."

"Dodge is different," Mark replied.

"Well…at least you're not such a chicken anymore. Dodge can be good company. You and him will make great buds," Roger smiled. Mark looked down at the floor. Shit, why did Roger have to say that? He tried to compel himself to regard Roger's comment as nothing, since it probably was (or it may have been just exactly what he thought Roger meant, but he really didn't want to think about that), but it stuck to his head. Damn it. Dodge squirmed in his arms so Mark had to set him back down.

Shwik shwik!

"How short do you want it, hon?" Mimi suddenly asked. Mark looked up again but avoided Roger's face. Mimi had hacked through like half of the original length and had managed to get Roger's hair quite like the style he had had during his April days, which was longer than Mark's own hair but still, technically, short. Mark watched as Roger took a look at himself in the mirror, then saw as the musician internally cringed. Roger didn't show it in an obvious manner, but Mark knew the musician didn't want his hair back to the way it was when April had still been in the picture.

"Can you make it shorter, Meems?" Roger asked. Mimi frowned.

"Like, Angel short?" she asked, looking a little pensive about the idea. She'd cut Angel's hair too. Roger shook his head.

"Not that short, but one almost like that. I still want some of my hair there. I just want it short enough for me not to style it or anything anymore."

"You aren't going back to your Scarsdale haircut, are you?" Mark asked. Scarsdale haircuts were pretty generic for boys: they always had to be short, neat and styled in a 'proper' manner, meaning the gel had to be laid on thick. Both Roger's parents had been strict followers of that rule.

"I may be…" Roger grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Minus the damned gel, of course…hated that shit."

"I thought the reason why you grew your hair long was that you wanted to break loose from that crap," Mark remarked.

"Yeah, but my Mom never liked me having my hair long so…" Roger shrugged. "I figured I'd go back to that. Saves me time anyway. I gotta look good for my baby, and my Momma since she sees me now every day…"

He gave a funny smile that Mark didn't really understand the meaning of.

'You're sweet, hon." Mimi smiled. "I think I got what you want."

Shwik shwik!

"Don't move your head around so much, babe," Mimi scolded gently. Mark turned the camera on again.

"My neck's starting to itch…" Roger scratched the side of his neck with a finger, loosening the knot the sheet made. The sheet inched downwards his chest.

"Ay ya, Roger," Mimi sighed. "You're worse than my little brother when I cut his hair. You're gonna itch more now since you've exposed your neck."

She stopped cutting and lowered the shears to fix up the sheet. Mark watched as Roger took a deep breath to cough, then saw as he held it in, so it came as little chest heaves, making his face go red. Mark lowered his camera. Roger opened his mouth and coughed openly into his fist, hunching forward.

"Oh my God," Mimi put a hand on Roger's back, her face twisted in worry. "Are you okay, honey?" Mark quickly got to his feet and rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water. When he came back, he handed Roger the glass and watched as the musician took a drink, feeling as if a stone had dropped into his stomach. His hands were shaking.

"I'm fine, I'm fine…" Roger assured them as soon as the coughs receded. He set the glass down and leaned back into the chair with his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. He cleared his throat then flashed a weak smile. "There, see?"

Mimi didn't say anything but only hugged her husband and kissed the top of his head. In return, Roger held her comfortingly. Mimi was scared. Mark didn't blame her.

"Babe, don't be scared…c'mon…it's okay…" Roger said soothingly. Mark pressed his lips together. He had to go. He had to get out. The secret about the PCP was about to explode inside of him. He had to go before he totally lost control and let Mimi know.

"I'm…I'm gonna go out for a while…catch some air…" he said shakily. He caught Roger's eye before he turned to go and knew that Roger understood. Neither Mimi nor Roger acknowledged his leaving, but Mark wouldn't have had it any other way. They needed a moment. He needed to be alone. He left his camera on the armchair and strode out.

"I love you," he heard Mimi say softly before he left.

"I love you too," he heard Roger reply.

Mark shut the door.

A/N: Just a little reminder: the story's ending will be on the same day that the first chapter took place, meaning all these other chapters are flashbacks. And, if you're attentive enough, you'll notice something about the points of view. Hmmm. Something to think about. Sorry for the wait. Scarfy had it right: Mark is somewhat of a train crash. I had a hard time figuring out what the heck to do with him. Please r/r! More coming soon!