A/N: Heehee…it's really late! I should be in bed but screw the world…it's Saturday and I intend to spend my nights writing. I can't wait to see what you all think of Mark and Roger's shopping trip in the city! So, I'll let you read it now and shut up!
Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson owns it all…although I wish I owned Roger…
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Roger's POV
"Should we get something to eat? I'm starving." Carrie whines even though I treated her to a heaping lunch at one.
"We don't have much time. Mark has to be back in two hours." I add, not wanting to waste time. Mark clutches at his camera, tightening the string around his shoulders and flashing me a nervous smile. I've never seen anyone carry a camera around before. It must mean he's creative. I wonder if he's one of those guys who just carries it around to look like he has a goal in life. Or is he someone who will push the camera in your face whenever something slightly interesting happens? I guess I'll find out soon enough.
"Oh yea." Carrie sighs, and Mark lays his hand on her shoulder. Some kind of warm sensation comes over my body as I stare intently at their contact. What the hell? It can't be what I think it is.
"If you want we can eat for an hour then walk around the city." He suggests, and Carrie looks longingly at me. She clutches her hands together, waiting impatiently for me to agree.
"I suppose. If it's okay with you Mark." I glance over at him, almost hoping he'll say that he is having second thoughts.
"Yep." Damn it. Maureen and Carrie squeal for absolutely no reason at all, jumping up and down with joy just because they get to eat. Mark rolls his eyes at me, and I laugh a little too loudly. He clenches his jaw tight, shivering from the cold, even though it has warmed up substantially since this morning. I dig my hands into my pockets, and watch the equipment around Mark's neck beat gently against his blue shirt. A metal knob leaves an imprint, and I'm oddly fascinated, as it gets deeper and deeper. He eventually notices me, and our eyes meet. I smile softly, implying that I'm just weird.
"So, where to?" Maureen asks after what seemed like an eternity of celebrating.
"I have no idea. How about…" I begin, when the girls overrule me.
"Chinese!" They yell simultaneously, then laughing maniacally over the coincidence.
"Oh…kay." Mark sighs, stepping in front of me to cross the street. His hand lies along the side of his body, blowing slightly in the wind. He must be fucking light. I can't really tell as his jacket hides the figure of his body. He's kind of short, but not enough to notice. Blond hair rests on his head, almost invisible. It looks like the sun, bright and pale. My eyes roll down the frame of his body, starting at his neck and moving down to his…
"Here it is. I love this place." Maureen interrupts my train of thought, snapping me harshly back to cold reality.
"Oh, okay." I clear my throat, trying to shake off what was just going through my mind. Mark smiles warmly as we make our way into the restaurant, as the smell of grease and vegetables become annoyingly apparent. Carrie sits down at a table, just big enough for the four of us, and I sit next to her on the green, ripped up chair. Various customers sit around us, some overweight, some skinny as a rail, some families, some couples, and some people who came to binge. It all seems so New York City.
"What are we gonna get?" Carrie asks, removing the scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. She slips it down around her body, then places it gently on the table in front of her, her fingers running in between the strings of thread.
"Chinese." Mark and I say together, throwing me into a fit of uneasiness. Mark just smiles, his usual answer to everything, and takes his jacket off. This makes his camera more visible, and I finally remember to comment on it.
"You carry a camera?" I ask as if I hadn't been staring at it only minutes before. He looks down at it, crooked and hanging against his body. A pink blush covers his cheeks when he glances back up at me, and I smile, waiting for an answer to my obvious question.
"Yea. I want to be a filmmaker. It's stupid I know, but if I didn't have it I would…"
"No, I think it's good. You're dedicated…or whatever." I end it casually, as if I don't really care that much.
"Oh, thanks." His blush gets deeper, turning into a dark red spread across his face. Carrie and Maureen carry on a conversation about shoes as Mark and I gaze curiously around the restaurant. I want to talk to him, but the girls are in the way. "So, you have any interests?" He asks, and I'm relieved one of us had the courage to speak.
"Yea, uhh…I play guitar and…write songs. Most of them are shit though." I lean back in my chair, sliding down the slippery green fabric.
"I've always wanted to play an instrument. I could never start, I always got bored of it. I guess that means I admire anyone who can play."
"Well…I don't know if I should be admired for what I play. It's pretty much just random chord plucking. Nothing special." Carrie shoots me a look and presses her hand to her chin.
"Roger, you can play really well. Don't be so modest. You know you play well too, you're just being an asshole." She snaps at me, and Mark laughs quietly. Carrie has always been defensive of my playing, even though she prefers it when I don't have my guitar with me.
"See? You have at least one fan." Mark points out, when a waiter shows up at our table. All of us order, Maureen taking the longest and most likely annoying the waiter. I cross my arms across my chest, and lay my head back, letting my eyes shut. I'm ready to fall asleep; I haven't been able to sit since we got coffee this morning. My legs stretch out a little too far, and I accidentally hit Mark between the legs with my knee. My body jumps up in shock, and I hear him gasp. The girls are again caught up in each other, completely ignoring what just happened.
"I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" I stutter, trying to give some sort of explanation for why I just touched him in a very private area.
"It's okay. I…it's okay." His hands run through his hair, and his camera jostles in his hands nervously. I sit upright, tucking my feet tightly back, as far away from Mark as possible. My breathing takes a while to calm down, as my heart pounds roughly in my chest. Before long the food comes, and I stuff it in my mouth as soon as I can. Grease accumulates around my lips, and I stick my tongue out at Carrie.
"Eww! Roger, don't!" She squeals, and I glance over at Mark. He's been staring at me intently for a while now, and he tries to look away when I catch him. I really don't mind it. If only I could tell him that.
When everyone finishes I am forced to pay the bill, being the only one with money. The girls skip out ahead of us, grasping their hands together and giggling the whole way out. Mark walks next to me down the street, every few seconds briefly rubbing his arm against mine.
"So, you like school?" I ask him, and he laughs quietly.
"Yea, right. Does anyone?"
"Well, obviously I don't." I answer, jumping over the cement curb to cross the street.
"I could never skip. The whole day I'd feel guilty." He's such a perfect kid. He's like one of those geeky kids who get good grades in every class even if they don't like the subject. One who hands in their homework no matter what kind of shitty day they've had. I have never been one of those kids, nor will I ever be one.
"You should skip with me one time. It's great. We could just walk around the city." My hands shiver from the brisk wind, and I attempt to find warmth by burying them in my pockets.
"Kinda like we're doing right now?"
"No, just us. Without Carrie and Maureen." I say, trying not to sound too creepy, but genuine. I'd like to get to know him better, and maybe see what he films.
"Oh." He clears his throat, and looks ahead to the girls. They have forgotten we even exist. "Yea, that'd be fun. I usually don't get out unless it's with Maureen. It'd be nice to escape from her." A throaty laugh erupts from my mouth, and Mark giggles at the volume. I spot a little shop off to the right, full of kinky clothes and tacky knick-knacks.
"Here, come on." I pull his arm to follow me into the shop, leaving the girls to have fun ahead of us. I hold the door open for him, directing him to step inside. He smiles oddly at me, before hesitantly taking a step inside.
"This place is weird." He says, attracting the attention of the owner. The old woman stares at us creepily with her blue crusty eyes, and I duck Mark into the corner of the shop.
"Maybe you should check around before you insult people." I whisper.
"Sorry, it just came out." A familiar blush comes over his face, and I chuckle quietly at his embarrassment. I turn around to inspect the wooden shelves against the wall, picking up a hat and placing it over my blond waves. I face Mark, and cross my eyes. "That looks just great." He laughs, as I nod and remove it from my head.
"You should tape some of this." I suggest, and sure enough he flicks on his camera. He holds it up in my face, smiling vaguely behind it. "Hello. Jesus, you're close!" I say laughing, and he backs up a little.
"Close on Roger trying on ridiculous hats in the corner of a weird-ass shop." He comments to his camera, and shuts it off quickly. Out of the corner of my eye I see the owner making her way over to us. I panic, and push Mark into an empty doorway. "What the h…" He asks, and I cover his mouth with my hand. I turn my head to see if she's coming, stealthily peeking out of the door. Her gray blouse blows against her body when the door opens, and she snoops around the shop for a sign of us. Two minutes into our shopping trip we are already in trouble.
"Shhh…" I tell Mark to be quiet, and remove my hand from his confused face.
"Okay." He tries to be quiet, but instead I see the owner come closer to where we are. I press my body closer to his, making the gap in between us disappear. I can feel his warm breath on the nape of my neck, being as I am slightly taller than him. He looks up at me, confused and interested, waiting for me to move in the smallest way. "Roger…" I lean my head down, closer and closer to his face, until I am only inches away from making contact. The sweet smell of some sort of fruity lotion explodes in my nostrils, no doubt something that rubbed off from Maureen onto Mark.
"Yea?" I ask, barely coherent but still paying attention to anything Mark says.
"Is she out there?" My eyes spring open, and my mouth shuts. All of it was in my head, my pathetic and lonely mind.
"Uh…" I glance out the door, and notice that she has finally left. "No, she's gone."
"All right." He sighs, as he uncomfortably squirms against my chest. "We should probably go then." His feet swing around mine, and he makes his way out the door, leaving me alone and humiliated. I can't believe I almost kissed him. I almost kissed a guy. At the moment I didn't even think of it as a big deal, as if Mark wanted it badly too. Almost as badly as me. I lean my forehead against the blue wall and clench my fists. What the hell am I doing? "Roger? You coming?" I hear him say, and I finally leave the jinxed doorway.
"Yea, I'm here." Mark points to a rack of scarves, summoning me over to him.
"Look, I need a scarf." I laugh at his random thoughts and start to rummage through all of the scarves in the pile.
"What are you looking for? Colorful, or…normal…or…warm?"
"Uh…anything that looks good I suppose." His voice is still shaky, as both of our memories attempt to wipe away the image of what just happened between the two of us. I reach deeply through the massive heap of scarves, and grasp one in my hand. When I pull it out, I see white and black stripes staring up at me.
"Here! I love it, put it on!" I yell enthusiastically and sling the piece of thin fabric around his neck. He grabs the ends, pulling back and forth, creating friction with his skin. "You like it?" I ask, and he nods in joy.
"It's great." He answers, and a smile spreads across my face. I've been smiling too damn much today.
"You should wear it to school once. You would score chicks like none other." He scoffs and wraps the scarf once more around his neck.
"It's not a magic scarf, Roger."
"You don't need magic. All you needed was something to hide that hideous neck of yours." I say, and he sticks his tongue playfully out at me. A blush comes, and I try to hide it unsuccessfully, although he doesn't mention it. I don't know what the fuck is up with me today.
"Shit!" Mark yells as he glances at his watch and runs for the door.
"What?"
"It's two to six. My mom is gonna be pissed if I don't get back in time."
"Oh." I fill with disappointment at the prospect of being left alone with Carrie and Maureen. That is if I can ever find them half way across the city.
"Hey, you can't just leave with that little boy! That's what we in retail call stealing!" The owner yells at him, and he turns back to the counter she stands behind.
"Damn!" He digs in his pockets anxiously, searching for any trace of a coin or dollar bill. I run up to him and throw a five down in front of the woman, who takes all of it joyfully without giving me change. "Hey, thanks." He smiles and runs out the door, but not before glancing back to make sure I have a smile on my face.
I walk down the street in search for the two annoying girls who left me stranded before. Suddenly, I hear a familiar voice.
"Roger! What the hell happened to you?" Carrie yells and I turn around to see her inches away from me. She smacks me across the face and I grasp at the stinging wound.
"What the fuck! Mark and I just went into a little shop! Jesus Carrie!"
"Did Mark leave already?" Maureen asks, stroking the side of my face like we've known each other for years.
"Yea, he was late. He didn't even say goodbye." I pout, and start to walk away.
"Are we going home then?" Carrie asks, pretending like she didn't just abuse me.
"I am, I don't know how you two are getting home." I take my keys out of my jacket and head towards my car, royally pissed off and not in the mood to speak to two moody teenage girls.
"Roger Davis you are such a dick!" Carrie screeches as she gets in my car without permission, dragging Maureen along for the ride. Her skirt blows in the wind, and almost gets caught in the door, as we get ready to head home.
We sit in the car, silent almost the entire way. I'm surprised that Carrie is mad at me, even though she's the one who gave out the slap.
"So, what did you guys think of Mark?" Maureen peeks her head in between the two front seats, lying her hand on Carrie's shoulder.
"He was nice. Seemed quiet and subdued." Carrie's eyes wearily close. There must be something about my car that tires her out.
"I thought he was pretty cool. Well…I don't know. He was okay. I mean…I've seen…" I stutter, trying not to make anything obvious. Being attracted to another guy is not something I planned or something I would prefer to share with two women. Especially Carrie.
"Good. I'm glad you liked him. I really like him." The girls sigh; ready to jump into bed after a long day in the city. All that's on my mind is Mark. Mark and his scarf, holding his camera against his chest. His strawberry blond hair twitching in the wind with a huge smile dancing on his lips. My mind is beginning to fuck me over once again.
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Hope you liked it, I thought it seemed like an eternity since I updated last so I'll try to update sooner, I promise! Thanks to Carrie for a huge idea on the chapter after we both suffered from a major case of writing a little at a time…grr…I hate writer's block.