"Mark Cohen residence." he answered.
He had become used to calling the loft that. It gave him a reason to get his mind of off Roger's disappearance.
He heard Benny chuckle on the other line.
"That's new." Benny commented.
Mark sighed, sliding back onto the couch, downing the last bit of Vodka he had found tucked away in the fridge.
"Mmm." he retorted, blinking as the world became blurry to him.
What was this, is fourth or fifth bottle of alcohol that evening?
He didn't remember.
Nor did he care.
"Why'd you call, Ben's knee?" he asked, laughing hysterically.
He swore he heard Benny frown.
"Mark, are you drunk?" Benny asked.
Mark scoffed.
"Ben, friend, me? Never!" he lied, biting at his lower lip to keep from laughing.
He fell to his side, clutching the phone to his ear.
"Benny. Benjamin." he said, as if he were a child testing out new words.
"Mark, sober up." Benny insisted.
Mark sniffled.
"No. No." he retorted, pulling himself back into a sitting position, pulling the empty bottle of Vodka to his lips.
"Fuck.
I'm out. Hold on." he said, setting the phone down on the coffee
table and skipping over to the fridge, opening it.
"Shit!" he exclaimed as he realized there was nothing but Captain Crunch cereal and milk in the fridge.
"Mark? Mark!" he heard Benny's voice from the reciever.
"We're out!" Mark yelled, slinking his way over to the phone and picking it up, bringing it to his ear.
"Mark, shut the fuck up and listen to me." Benny said sternly.
Mark rolled his eyes.
"Benny, no. Drinking is all I've got right now." he hissed, bringing the Vodka bottle back to his lips, savoring the last droplets.
"Mark, Roger's in the hospital." Benny said gently.
Mark let the Vodka bottle slip from his hands, shattering on the floor.
"What?" he asked, falling to the coffee table.
"I don't know the circumstances. I found him on the street, Mark." Benny explained.
Mark brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his right arm around them, holding the phone to his ear wth the other arm.
"He's in a coma, Mark. He wasn't awake when I found him." Benny continued.
Mark dropped the phone from his hand, jumping off the couch and running out the door.
"Mark?" Benny questioned, his voice echoing through the empty loft.
Mark ran down the stairs and stopped on the street, blinking as the sun hit down on him.
He shielded his eyes, holding out his right hand in an attempt to hail a taxi.
After five minutes, he realized he was getting no luck.
He rushed back into the loft, grabbing the phone.
"Benny, I can't get a taxi!" he whined.
"Mark, you went outside? Did you grab a coat?" Benny asked.
Mark blushed, looking down at himself.
He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a wife-beater.
"Mark, just sit down. I'll come get you." Benny offered.
Mark nodded, falling to the couch.
"Don't drink anymore!" Benny said, hanging up.
Mark scowled.
"We're out."
"I still can't believe you went out into the cold like that. Mark, you could have gotten ill!" Benny exclaimed.
Mark shrugged.
"I wasn't thinking. I couldn't think."
Benny reached out, taking the empty bottle from Mark's hands.
"C'mon. Let's go out. Have a drink or two more. Let this last night be resourceful." he suggested, setting the bottle onto the table.
Mark smiled.
"I could do that." he said saltily, going around the table and meeting up with Benny at the door.
Not an hour later, Mark was shit faced.
Benny, on the other hand, was sober as fuck.
Mark didn't question it.
He leaned back in his seat, thankful for Benny's presence.
"I miss him." he said quietly.
Benny smiled sympathetically.
"I really did love him." Mark said, blushing.
Benny chuckled.
"He was your best friend, Mark. You were kind of required to love him." he teased.
Mark shook his head, taking the last sip of the beer into his mouth, swallowing it quickly.
"No. I mean I loved him." he retorted.
Benny narrowed his eyes.
"Oh." was all he could find to say.
Mark continued on.
"When I first met him...I knew. You just know, ya know?" he said drunkenly, tossing the bottle onto the table, watching it roll off and shatter.
"And then Maureen showed up. Things got so fucked up after that." he said, his eyes landing on a piece of glass that shimmered in the light.
"He was my light...the one that shined at the end of the tunnel. I couldn't tell him that. We were straight. Are straight." he said in a confused manner.
He caught Benny's gaze.
"I did love him. I just wish I had had the chance to tell him that." he admitted.
Benny smiled shyly.
"He knows, Mark. He knows." he said, catching Mark as he fell into his arms, crying, again.
"Don't tell anyone, Benny. Please." he pleaded.
Benny caressed the younger boys back gently.
"I won't. Not a soul." he promised.
Minutes passed where Benny just rocked Mark soothingly, Mark sobbing into his leather coat.
Mark eventually pulled back, wiping at his eyes beneath his glasses.
"God, I'm a ninny." he said with a chuckle.
Benny laughed.
"Mark, you're grieving. You're not a ninny. Tonight, anyways." he teased.
Mark growled at him.
Benny threw his napkin at him.
Mark caught it and threw it on the table.
"Thanks." he said quietly, looking to his feet.
"For what?" Benny questioned.
Mark looked up at him.
"For helping me. For taking me in." he replied.
Benny smiled brightly.
Mark swallowed, looking around.
"I need another drink." he commented.
Benny stood, reaching out to tap Mark on his shoulder.
"Vodka?" he asked.
Mark nodded, watching as he slunk over to the bartable.
He slumped back in his seat, sighing.
He looked up at the ceiling, watching the fans spin.
He didn't know how long he stayed like that, only that Benny had to snap his fingers a few times to get his attention.
"Earth calls, Mark." Benny said, shoving the Vodka bottle into his hands.
"Not too sure on giving you that." he admitted as Mark hastily popped the top, downing the bottle in seconds flat.
Mark shook his head.
"Let's dance!" he said, standing, reaching out and taking Benny's hands in his in an attempt to pull him from his chair.
Benny blanched.
"On the dance floor? Mark...no." he said, pulling his hands back.
Mark fell onto him drunkenly, his words slurred.
"C'mon, Benknee. Benny. Ben-ja-min." he said, his face buried in the nape of Benny's neck.
Benny pushed him off.
Mark wobbled in his place.
"Benny?" he said softly.
Benny raised his eyebrows in question.
Mark narrowed his eyes, swallowing.
"Why is the world spinning?" he asked, falling back into Benny's arms.
"I'm cutting you off, Mark. We're going home." Benny said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a dollar bill that would serve as the tip tonight.
Setting it on the table, he wrapped his right arm around Mark's waist, pulling him straight.
"Do you need to make a stop?" he asked, cocking his head towards the bathroom door.
Mark opened his mouth, but didn't speak.
"Not yet, I see." Benny said hastily, rolling his eyes and pulling Mark towards the bar's exit.
Getting Mark upstairs was a daunting task.
Mark was near passed-out level in Benny's arms, refusing to cooperate.
"Damn it, Mark, one foot forward. It's not that fucking hard!" Benny hissed, letting Mark lean against the railing.
Mark pointed at him, smirking.
"You puff up when you snert." he said, throwing his head back in laughter.
Benny sighed, pulling back to the opposite side of the stairs.
"You want to sleep on the stairs tonight, Mark? Is that it?" he questioned, crossing his hands over his chest.
Mark brought his head back up.
"No. Why would I wnat to do that?" he replied soberly.
Benny smiled slightly.
"Then get your ass up the stairs. You're awake enough to do that." he mentioned.
Mark growled, rolling his eyes and beginning to slump up the stairs.
"You're a bastard, you know that?" he questioned as they reached the base of their floor.
He leaned against the wall.
Benny only smiled.
"Talk like that, and I'll keep you awake!" he threatened.
Mark snorted, pushing his way through the loft door, stumbling over to the couch and rolling his way onto it.
He curled up into a ball, sniffling.
Benn stopped at his feet, taking off his coat and throwing it onto him.
"We're not leaving tonight, are we?" he questioned.
Mark only sobbed in response, wet tears sliding down his cheek.
"I'll be here tomorrow. Have your things packed. Call me if you need anything beforehand." Benny offered, leaning forward to ruffle Mark's hair.
Mark pulled away, curling himself into the fetal position.
Benny headed towards the door, looking back to Mark, who called out his name.
"Thanks." Mark whispered hoarsely.
"For what? Getting you drunk?" Benny teased.
Mark laughed.
"For listening." he said, closing his eyes and quickly falling asleep.
Benny nodded, quietly slipping out the door.
Mark tossed and turned in his sleep as his dreams became vivid memories.