Disclaimer: It's Jonathan Larson's

I forgave Maureen that night.

"It's okay, Maureen. It was just… you were drunk, and Roger… is Roger, it's all right. Just promise me this will never happen again."

In my memory, I sometimes hear a note of hatred to her voice, but that night all I heard was sweetness and love. "Never again, Pookie," she promised, cuddling close against me. I smelled her hair and her hands were warm on my back, and I knew beyond any doubt that I forgave her.

When I awoke the following morning, Maureen was curled against me with her eyes squeezed tightly closed. She had been drunk last night and was hung over this morning. I had been spared that particular torture.

I wandered out of the bedroom. Roger was sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and a book, following the words with his fingertip. He was wearing the beating I had given him the night before. His lip was swollen and there were bruises across his cheek. He had a black eye.

I have never considered myself a bad person. Sometimes I do bad things, I recognize that, but I always make amends, or at least try. But when I saw Roger's face that morning, I felt a sudden swell of pride. I felt what I dog feels, sniffing his own scent off a fire hydrant.

"Morning," Roger said.

I forced myself to answer calmly, though I wanted to snap: "Morning." I had forgiven Maureen, but I knew in that moment that I would never forgive Roger.

But I never predicted what would happen next. I would not have guessed, nor believed if told, that we would find April in the bathtub, that Roger would be given a death sentence. He took the news poorly.

Roger would disappear for days on end. When he was home, he was terrifying. He did not break things but he seemed to enjoy being rough with them: shutting the door too forcefully, setting down his mug too heavily. He lost weight and he was always high.

Collins tried to convince Roger to come eat with us, since we usually ate dinner (spare as it was) as a group--five people, one kitchen, you do the math. Sometimes Roger came. I never understood why. I, for one, did not want him. He made me extremely uncomfortable.

"I wish he would just stop coming home," I admitted to Maureen one night. "I know that's awful, but…" But I hate him. But she loved him, so I could not say it.

"I think this is good for you, Pookie."

"Good for me?"

"Yeah. You can't let fear get the better of you all the time, not if you want to film real life at its most interesting."

Her words would haunt me for years-- one more thing for which I blamed Roger.

To be continued!

Concerning whether or not Mark is out of character: I don't really think everyone in RENT was who they are as we see them, since popping out of the womb. Mark and Roger are so often portrayed as friends from the very start. I wanted to try something different.

Anyway, that's just my reasoning. I still hope you enjoy it.