It's a day until Christmas. Roger's out of his room again. Back with the guitar in his arms on the couch, nothing but the guitar on his mind.
He's working on the song he started when April was alive.
I can't stand that damned song.
Roger once accused me of being jealous that he was writing April a song and not me...what an assumption.
Yes, I'm jealous of Rock Star & Sex God Roger Davis.
I'm not.
Am I?
What am I thinking, no, of course I'm not jealous. Roger is nothing more than a friend.
Or...at least he was.
When he used to talk to me.
God, I miss those talks.
He used to open up to me.
I wish I could say I did the same.
He'd try.
After Maureen and I broke up, it was all he could talk about.
I didn't want to admit to him that I was truly missing Maureen's touch.
I couldn't.
It didn't help that every time he and April were together, it reminded me of Maureen and I's relationship.
He didn't believe me when I told him that. Why should he have? Everyone, including Collins, thought Maureen and I were in love.
In truth, I was only in lust for her. I wanted sex, and she provided.
Of course Roger wouldn't believe that. I'm just the innocent filmmaker, afterall.
Roger's yet again looking at me.
I really should find out why he keeps doing that.
He looks so sad. So useless.
I'll tend to him later. I have my cinematography to worry about.
God, I'm selfish.