"Dammit Roger!" His father swiped his hand across the table, effectively knocking all of Roger,s homework onto the floor. "Stop this shit and go make some fucking dinner!"
Roger scrambled to collect the 10 page essay he had been working on for a week, nine pages of which he was done with, and that was due tomorrow. "Just let me finish this page Dad and I'll make you guys something!" He piled his things in his arms, keeping far from his fater. He hated when his father got drunk, but it's not like it was a rare thing in his house. Him and Jennifer were used to it, not that she ever had to deal with it. Even when drunk, he would never lay a hand or raise his voice to his little girl. Roger both loved that his sister never got hurt, even though he couldn't stand his sister, and hated that it meant he got twice as much. "If I don't get this essay in first thing in the morning I'm gonna be stuck in summer school for the next three months."
"Maybe that'll do you some good." His father shoved him on the shoulder and took the books from his paper, making his way for the kitchen. "What do you bother with all this work for? You're just going to get out of high school and work in my garage. You're not that bright anyways, it's your only choice. It's settled. I don't even know why you bothered finishing high school.
"Dad!" Roger followed after his dad just in time to see him throwing his homework in the garbage. "Shit dad!" He pushed past him and grabbed books from the bin, sighing with relief that he had just replaced the bag, and the only other things in there were the contents of his sister cleaning out her book bag, which unfortunately contained a few globs of pink bubble gum.
His father only punched him in the arm for his language. "Don't fucking swear in my goddamn house!" He swiped his hand through Roger's arms and knocked everything to the floor again. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and threw comments to Roger over his shoulder. "Now make some goddamn food."
He fell to his knees to collect his work again, placing his loose papers neatly in his book. After setting them safely on the counter, he made his way to the fridge, deciding to just make hamburger helper, since they had it, it was easy, and would give him more time to do his homework.
As he was cooking, his older sister came in, popping her gum and hopping onto the counter beside Roger, snapping it in his face. "You know he's right right?"
Roger shudders and looks up at Jennifer. "About what exactly?"
"You're not too bright. Why do you try so hard?"
He set the spoon on the counter and pushed his hair out of his face. "Because I want more than a job in an auto shop… Like you seem to have settled for."
She rolled her eyes and popped her gum again. "You're just jealous cause all the hot mechanics want me."
Roger laughed bitterly and stirred the pasta again. "That's what it is. I want to give all the hot mechanics head in the back room while dad's out changing oil. You' caught me. I wanna be just like you."
She slid off the counter, forming her hand into an 'L' and pressing it to her forehead as she left the kitchen.
Seven years since mom left, promising to come back for him. He had gotten over that by now, and he knew she wasn't coming, but the years just kept piling on top of each other and he didn't know if it was possible to still get out. His dad pretty much had his future at the garage for him, but he wanted more than that. He wanted people to know his name, and not as their mechanic.
He listened. He did everything his father asked of him, and still, all he got was a beating every other day. He wanted to grab his back pack, guitar, and run far far away. After all, what was the point of living if he hated his life? Sure, he wanted to succeed, make his dreams come true, but he wanted to have fun. He was a teenager after all. There was so much out there in the world that he wanted to see, so many things he had never done. He wanted to spend his life doing just that. Living. And if he never got out of here, he would never get to see and do all those things.
After dinner, Roger finished up his homework, placing in the safety of his book bag and grabbed his guitar on the way out the door. He told his father he was going out and would be back late. His father didn't care that it was a school night, since he wanted Roger to drop out and get a job any ways, but he did yell for about ten minutes about not wanting Roger hanging out with a gay guy. Those weren't the words his father used, but that was the nice way to put it. He didn't want Roger being gay, and apparently it's contagious now.
But Roger made his way outside to meet up with Collins all the same. Collins looked to the guitar in Rogers hand and took one last puff of his cigarette before crushing it into the concrete below his sneaker. "Ready to go rock star?"
Roger punched him in the arm as they walked to the club.
The club. That was where Roger belonged. When he was on stage, he didn't have any family problems. He didn't need to worry about school work or the future, or his father. He played his guitar, and he sang, and that was enough. Here, people looked up to him. He was the god of rock and roll and sex. Everyone wanted him. The girls in front of the stage wanted him, the girls in the back sipping Pepsi wanted him, hell, he was almost positive the geeky blonde boy with the camera, who came to every show, wanted him. It wasn't even a question of whether he was good or not, he could pull it off, and that was enough. And it was always a plus that he got paid to play at the club. A nice bonus.
It wasn't about the girls… and boys… that wanted him. Hell, most nights, he played, and went home with Collins to watch stupid movies any way. The show gave him enough of a high. He had never tried the real kind of high, since the show was always enough, but one night, a red headed chick caught his eye. She was too thin to be healthy, but holy shit, that smile was something else.
After the show, he made his way back to her table, slipping into the empty table. She must be one of the very few girls that didn't giggle and blush, or ogle, if he sat with them. She just looked up at him with a small smirk. "Hey."
"Hey. Haven't seen you at a show before."
"That's 'cause I haven't been to one. I was supposed to meet a friend but she ditched me to blow her boyfriend, so I figured why the hell not." She took a long sip from her Pepsi bottle, which from the smell of it, he didn't think was pure Pepsi. She caught Roger looking at her Pepsi bottle as he tried to figure out what was in it and smirked again, holding out the bottle to him. "Absolut?"
"Ohh." He held up his hand to say no. "Nah, I've got to be coherent, seeing at though the designated walker is trashed." He looked over his shoulder, to where Collins was dancing with one arm wrapped around some small Spanish boy, and the other hand still clutching his beer. Roger laughed and turned back to face the girl.
She just cocked an eyebrow. "Want something else?" She bit her bottom lip and cocked her head to the side, and Roger had a hard time figuring out if she was flirting with him, or just plain curious.
He sat back in his chair, arching his back to stretch against it. "What did you have in mind?" She raised an eyebrow again, which he mimicked in challenge.
She took the last swig from her bottle and stood up, taking Roger hand, pulling him through the crowd and into one of the back rooms, pushing him hard into one of the walls and attacking him with her lips.
Okay, so it wasn't like Roger had never gone at it with some random girl in the back room of the club, but it was a first for the girl to bring it all up and make the first move. He wasn't sure he really like the feeling of not being in control. His life at the club was the only thing he got to control, so in one swift movement, he swirled around so the girl was pressed against the wall with his hands on her shoulders and hips, sliding up to the back of her neck.
She remained pressed against the wall for the next half an hour, until both of them burst and slumped against the wall. She looked to Roger and smirked again. "You know, that was fucking good, but not what I was talking about."
"And what were you talking about?" He wiped his hands his chest, attempting to straighten out his clothing. He looked over to her just in time to see her pull out a few needles in vacuum packed bags and a packet of white powder. She held them in the palm of her hand and raised it toward Roger. "You in?"
"No way. That shit's fucked up."
Her smirk turned into a scowl. "Well you must not have any problems."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Her scowl disappeared into a dreamy smile. "This shit takes away fucking everything. Every problem you think you have is nothing at all." She opened up one of the needles. "For a few hours at least."
He watched as she prepped the poison, candle blazing, and thought about all his problems being gone for awhile. No dad, no school work. But then isn't that what he had the club for? He didn't need drugs. He watched her eyes glaze over as she slipped the needle into her arm and got up to leave the back room and rejoin the group outside.
Once he reached the door, he turned back to look at her. She stared back at him with her glazed eyes saying everything but 'I've got problems. She let her head fall back against the wall and laughed, holding up the unused needle.
Roger shook his head and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. That was too fucked up. He looked around for a moment to find Collins, where he was still dancing with the Spanish boy and walked right up to them. "I want to go home." He crossed his arms over his chest.
Collins let out a sigh but the smile never wavered from his face as he leaned down and kissed the boy long and hard before pulling away, leaving the other boy breathless. "I'll be seeing you."
He turned with Roger and left the club, making their way toward Roger's house. Roger had wanted to walk Collins home, but Collins thought that was stupid since he only live half a block down from him. About half way there, Collins turned to Roger. "Okay, what's up?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're off. Your auras all twisted up." He smirked and waved his hands around Rogers face to show just how twisted his aura was.
Roger pushed his hands away with a laugh. "Nothing. I'm good. Better than good."
"Cause you had sex?"
Roger wasn't even shocked that Collins knew. He could just always tell those sorts of things. "Sure."
"And then what happened?"
"She offered me smack."
Collins stopped walking and grabbed Rogers arm. "You didn't take it right?"
Roger pulled his arm back. "God Collins, hell no. Who do you think I am?" He was repulsed by the very idea of it.
Collins looked him over until he was sure that he was telling the truth, and then laughed as he threw his arm around Roger's shoulders. "You know Davis. You're okay." He pulled Roger into a short hug once they reached Roger's porch, patting him on the back a few times. "Proud of you man."
Roger rolled his eyes at the affection and pulled away, dashing up the porch. "Ya thanks." Without another word, he slipped into the house, coming face to face with his dad. "Jesus you scared me."
"What was that fag doing with his arms around you!" His father was nearly spitting on him as he yelled, making Roger all to aware of the alcohol on his breath.
"God dad, nothing, he was proud of me for not doing drugs and gave me a quick hug. We're not even like that." Roger went to push past his father, only to have his arm grabbed and pulled back into the door.
Roger blinked back tears as his arm bruised, and his father's fist collided with his cheek. "What did I tell you about hanging out with him? I don't want it!" He pushed his father off of him, not a hard task since he had been drinking all night.
"Don't touch me!" His father went for him again, but he was out the door before his dad had time to reach him. He ran to the club, since it was the only thing that gave him the release he was looking for.
Looking back on it, Roger would realize that it was running to the club that condemned him. If he had run to Collins instead, he would have talked to Collins, gotten over it, and went to school in the morning. But at the moment, it was forgetting that he wanted, not reminiscing. That girl at the club, she had said the powder could make him forget, so that's where he went.
Hours later, as the club was closing, and him and the girl were kicked out of the back room of the club, Roger could still feel his veins, his world burning. Everything was illuminated in a pin wheel of a million colors he couldn't name at the moment. He didn't remember why he did it, not at the moment. He would remember later, and he wouldn't think it was worth it, but he would remember the forgetting the next time something happened. It was too late not to be hooked.
He walked down the street with the girl, not touching or talking. When they reached a corner were they would part ways, he looked up at him and kissed him again. "Look me up, okay?" She turned down her street, her hips swaying as she went.
He watched her for a minute before calling after her. "Wait, I don't even know…"
She cut him off by raising her hand up and turning around, never stopping her stride. "It's April." She turned around and continued on her way.
April. That was easy enough to remember. It wouldn't be until later that day, sitting on his bed with his father passed out on the couch, with the drugs long having worn away and a purple and black bruise on his cheek, that Roger Davis, straight A student, Rock and Roll sex god, who had never had anything stronger than pot, would realize that it was the first day of April. April fools. It would hit him that he was the stupidest person on the world for having tried drugs. Some fool.