Just wanted to say thanks for all the positive feedback…It's really encouraging. Don't think I need the usual disclaimer on these. Obviously the characters aren't mine. They belong completely to the one and only Mr. Jonathan Larson, musical genius.

"Why did she have to call him?" Mark asked when they were a safe distance down the hallway.

"Don't know, man. Like it or not, though, he's still our roommate. And was our friend."

"Key word there being 'was.' Benny doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us."

Collins stopped and pushed the button for the elevator. "C'mon now, Mark. You know that ain't true. He didn't have to come down here. Even if Maureen called him, he could've said no."

Mark sighed. "Fine. So he still gives a shit. What right—"

"Mark, I'm as pissed as the next guy over how Benny's been actin' lately, but what the hell's your problem? He wanted to make sure Roger was okay. Nothin' wrong with that."

The filmmaker rolled his eyes and stepped onto the elevator. Collins followed.

"You gonna tell me why you're takin' all this so personal?"

"What?"

"First you get pissed at Benny for no obvious reason. Then you're okay with him. Then you're pissed he's getting married. Now you're throwing a tantrum that he wants to make sure Roger's alive."

"Nothing."

"Mark—"

"I said it's nothing, Collins," the harshness of his tone surprised both of them.

"Okay, fine. Whatever you say."

"Sorry. I just…It's my problem, okay?"

Collins nodded.

Maureen sat alone after Benny left. She tried flipping through a magazine, but couldn't focus her attention. The clock in the waiting room ticked each minute off slower than the last.

"Oh screw this," she muttered. She strode out of the waiting room and headed back to Roger's room.

Roger was sleeping again. Maureen sat quietly in the chair by the bedside and stared at him. His head turned slightly. His hair fell across his forehead, grazing his eyebrows. Maureen brushed it away. Roger's eyes opened.

"You always gonna do that?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Do what?"

"Brush my hair outta my face?"

Maureen smiled. "Till you get that damned mop cut, yes."

Roger managed a weak smile. His eyes shifted around the room. "You alone?"

"Mark and Collins went for coffee."

"And left you to babysit?"

She shook her head. "No, no, I didn't want any."

Roger frowned. "What's wrong?"

Maureen looked up at him. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

She twirled her hair between her fingers. "Nothing. What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Cause you always twirl your hair like that when you're upset."

"Rog—"

"Mo, I've known you since we were fifteen. I know when something's buggin' you."

"Maybe that you're laying in a hospital bed."

"Maybe, but that's not it."

"I called Benny," she whispered.

"You huh?"

"Called Benny," Maureen said louder.

Roger nodded. "He here?"

Maureen shook her head. "He was but Mark and Collins….mainly Mark….well, you

know…"

Roger nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"He asked me to tell you he says hi though."

"Hi back."

Someone in the doorway cleared her throat. Maureen turned. "Visiting hours are over."

"Oh, okay, I'll just…um….I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?"

"I'll be here."

Maureen kissed his cheek again and followed the nurse out. Roger held his tears until the nurse had shut the door behind them.