Disclaimer: I own not a notion. I rent.
To EloraCooper4- Thank you so much for your kind words. I hope I continue to keep your interest with this story.
Random Song Note: D...naw I'm just kidding. "Defying Gravity" from Wicked is amazing. Why do I not listen when people tell me something is awesome.
Collins could hear the bells chiming in a church somewhere near Alphabet City for the six o'clock hour. Mark hadn't yet returned and Collins was starting to get nervous. Mark had a tendency to blend in with the crowd and avoided muggings, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. With the mood Mark was in, Collins doubted he was giving much thought to his own well-being. Also, it was getting colder out. During the days, the sun provided warmth as it always did in early fall, but the nights were slowly but surely getting colder, signaling the approach of winter.
"Hey man." Roger said as he plopped himself down on the end of the couch. Rinsing a dish in the sink, Collins gave Roger a small nod. He had spent the rest of the day very productively. He had finished his crossword, graded everything that needed graded, worked on his dissertation (as much as he could, his concentration was pretty much shot after the earlier events) and now was cleaning up the loft. Most of the day Collins couldn't stop thinking about Roger and Mark and what was going to happen if something didn't change soon. He'd come to a decision and was locked in an internal battle not to back down. Roger got up and grabbed a freshly washed glass off the towel which Collins was using to drain the dishes on. He filled it with water and chugged it down.
"You're washing that, I hope you know." Collins raised an eyebrow at Roger.
Roger grinned, "I know, I will. Thanks for doing the dishes."
Collins shook his head imperceptibly. Right now, Roger was Roger. But soon the anxiety would settle in and Roger would need a hit. Then he wouldn't be the young man Collins knew anymore and Collins was determined to get his friend back. Not just for himself and Roger's own well-being, but also for Mark who seemed to be falling apart in front of his eyes, if today's incident was any indicator.
Roger had made his way back to the couch. Noticing Mark's scarf, Roger picked it up and showed it to Collins, "Where is Mark anyway?"
"He went out filming."
"When? And why didn't he take his scarf? He never leaves it." Collins detected hurt in Roger's green eyes. Good, feel something besides numb for once. Think about what you're doing to the person you call your best friend.
"He left a little after you got back."
"He should be back by now. I hope he's alright." Roger got up and looked out the large window behind the couch which looked down over the street. Collins remained silent. For once Roger was home, he wasn't high and he was thinking about someone besides himself. As the minutes ticked by, Roger became more agitated. Collins wasn't sure if withdrawal was setting in, or if it was because of Mark.
"He definitely should be home by now. What if he's lying in an ally or something? Fuck, what if he got mugged Collins?" Collins bit back remarks about Mark thinking the same thoughts regarding Roger night after night.
At ten after nine, the loft door slid open and Mark walked in looking no worse for wear. Collins' relief came out in a sigh. Spending an entire day worrying about his two best friends was too much. His decision only became more cemented.
"Hey." Mark nodded. He placed his camera on the table and took off his coat. He didn't notice the red seeping into Roger's cheeks or the anger, very visible in his eyes. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge Roger's existence. His focus was solely on Collins. This doesn't bode well, thought Collins. Mark looked better than he did when he left the loft earlier, but the tension was so thick in the room that it could practically be seen.
"Boy, that's it. You're getting a curfew. Be inside this loft before the streetlights come on or Roger and I will hang out the window calling your name." Collins gave a small chuckle, "All that time you were gone, you'd better have gotten some decent footage." The tightness in his chest dissipated and he silently begged Roger to keep quiet. In his own way, Collins had let Mark know that they had been worried.
"I was all over the city today, Collins. People were everywhere. I got so many different interactions between tourists and the homeless," Mark's eyes lit up and his hands started moving spastically. Always a sign he's excited, Collins thought. "There was even a rally in Central Park to stop AIDS. It was amazing. The only problem was I had to watch my film. What I would have given for another two reels. If I wasn't working on my other film…"Mark trailed off. His other film, a romantic comedy that was neither romantic nor humorous was going nowhere fast.
"Mark, maybe you should give the other film a break. No offense, but…"
"It sucks. I know. Eh, whatever. Maybe I'll cut some stuff together and see if it works out. If it feels right, you know?" Mark plopped himself down on the couch, "Oh and don't even think about that name calling thing. Even my mother didn't do that." Collins smiled at Mark. He sat in a chair and turned his head to glance at Roger. He had crossed his arms and was currently pacing back and forth. Don't do anything stupid. Don't get Mark all tensed up again. He's home, he's fine. Just let it go. Don't do anything stupid Roger, please, Collins silently pleaded.
"So we're just going act like nothing happened." Like that. "Everything's fine. Even though he didn't care that his roommates and best friends were worried sick. That was wrong man. You shouldn't have been gone so long without calling and letting us know that you were still alive!" Roger stood in front of Mark, yelling. Mark's face started to turn a deep crimson and in a flash he was on his feet, going toe-to-toe with Roger.
"Me? I'm the one in the wrong. What about you? How many nights has it been Roger that you've given us any indication that you're still alive? How many?" Mark was practically screaming now, "I'm sick and tired of waiting for a call from some hospital telling me that you're dead because your dumb ass went and overdosed. Or a cop knocking on the door because they arrested you for buying because you just needed that one hit. We have no food, we have nothing. You waste your money on that shit when it could be used for our survival. You waste your money, your time…" Mark's voice broke, "You waste your talent. But what pisses me off the most is you're wasting your life!"
Roger's fist connected with Mark's face quicker than Collins would have expected. Glasses went flying to floor as Mark tried to get out of Roger's line of fire.
"How dare you? I'm not wasting anything. I'm living my life. I'm fucking living it up which is more than I can say for you!" Another punch connected with Mark's stomach. Collins grabbed Roger and pulled him away from Mark, who was crumpled against the couch.
"Are you really that pissed at him Roger, or are you overdue for a hit? Either way, you shouldn't have done that." With more strength than Collins thought he had, he managed to drag Roger into his room and get the door closed. Leaning against it, Collins said, "Calm your ass down. We're going to talk, but I ain't talking to you when you're like this." Collins turned his attention to Mark, "You alright?" Mark nodded. He would have a black eye and be very sore the next morning, but Roger hadn't done any truly lasting physical damage to Mark.
"Collins, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so upset." Mark wheezed, "I didn't mean to start this tonight."
"Boy, there is no reason on this earth why you should be the one apologizing. This was going to happen. Tonight, tomorrow, next week- we were going to have to deal with it at some point. So we're dealing with it now. There's no time like the present." Collins sat against the door and waited for some sign from Roger that it was time to deal with it.
