Chapter Twelve: How We Are Saved
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Sixteen years after Mark left-
A few hours after ch.11--The Loft


Roger sat in the empty loft, alone with his guitar...plucking the notes slowly, halfheartedly trying to find another song. It was his day off of work, and like every other day off of work, he hated it. Occasionly, Maureen and Joanne stopped by with Alyna or even Benny would come by, something he had been doing more and more since Mimi had died.

Beeep. Beeep.

Roger put aside the guitar, making his way to the kitchen to take his pills. He looked at the bottles and shook his head,

"Just a few more years."

That's all he had asked for the last six years. Just a little bit longer to see them graduate, make sure they were happy. It wasn't that Mark didn't...or the Mark wasn't...it was more for Roger than anyone else.

He looked around the loft again. So this is life?

Dragging himself to the couch, he progressed twenty minutes into a nap before he was interuppted by banging at the door. He tried ignoring it, but the banging persised.

"What..." He bagan, pulling back the door.

Shea stood there, more or less still in his pajamas with a book bag at his side. The boy refused to meet Roger's eyes, but Roger knew what he wanted. Stepping aside he let the boy in, "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

"At the hospital." Came the mumbled reply.

"Here. Go try and get some sleep." Shea turned down the hall way before Roger could finish, "..and then we'll talk."

Of all the places, he came here.

Roger followed slowly in the boy's wake towards what had been Collins' room, where the Cohens visited on their days away from Chicago. He stood in the door way and watched the boy curl up on the mattress, shaking slightly. Instinctively Roger walked in a put his hand on Shea's shoulder,

"Don't touch me."

"I said, don't touch me. Leave me the hell alone!" The rockstar screamed, scaring the filmmaker against the wall.

"Rog, we're just trying to help." Collins said blocking the door.

"Just let me go..." Roger collapsed back on the bed turning away from his roommates, and curled up, crying.

Shea still couldn't get any sleep, he ended up sitting there on the bed replaying everything in his head. Roger sat behind him,

"Why'd you come here?"

No answer. Instead Shea got up and as Roger tried to stop him, pushed the man away.

"Roger, let me go. I'm just trying to help you." Benny yelled back at the man who had him pinned against the wall.

"I don't want your help. I don't need your help."

"It's all about you, isn't it, Rog? What about us? We don't want you to die sooner than you have to. And for some unexplained reason we need you..."

"Fu..."

Benny stared him striaght in the eyes, interuppting, "Maybe it should have been you I found, instead of April."

Roger's fist slammed into Benny's face, before the rockstar went storming back into his room. Benny just slid down the wall, trying to recover...

A couple nights later Shea slide out of bed, deciding this was the best bet...he rummaged through his bag to get what ever cash he had left over, hoping it would be enough. But as he made his way out of the room he ran into Roger,

"I know you want it really bad. But you better fight the feeling; I'm not letting you out."

"I just need one more..."

"One more, Rog, please..." Mimi begged as he took the baggie out of her hands.

"Come, Meems, you don't need it. Come on, baby, you're doing good."

"Please, Rog. I need it. I need it."

"What you need more? This or me?"

She just kept repeating, "I need it." As he tossed the baggie back at her.

Roger sat against the closed door all night to make sure Shea didn't leave. He had given up once, he wasn't going to do it again. When morning came, Roger got up and went to the kitchen turning on the coffee pot and pulling out some cereal. The door creeked opened and Shea appeared, then disappeared into the bathroom. Roger leaned against the counter as he hear the sounds of Shea anger coming from behind the closed door. Roger listened to make sure the noise didn't stop, just in case he had missed something when he had taken all the razors and anything sharp or other wise deadly out of the bathroom on the night Shea had arrived on his door step. The noise stopped abrubtly and Shea once again appeared and disappeared back into the room. Roger grabbed the two bowls of cereal and made his way to the back bedroom. The sixteen year old sat on the bed, with his knees to his chest.

"Breakfast." Roger announced sitting on the corner on bed and setting one bowl in the middle of the bed.

Roger started eating his cereal slowly, with no intention of leaving the room.

"I couldn't get any sleep." Shea voice began slowly, steadily.

"I came home late from that gig." Roger began sitting on the metal table while the filmmaker just watched him.

"London and Dad always watched those movies, those stupid movies, and I was waiting for them to finish."

"We had gone on later than normal, and I stayed a little later...backstage."

"But I got up anyhow, after Dunn had gone back to bed. He was just crying, Dad was just sitting there crying."

"I remember coming in to see Benny sitting outside the bathroom door, and he was just sitting there crying. And I remember him looking up and just saying 'I'm sorry' over and over again."

"And then he said, 'I'm sorry.'. He said 'I'm sorry' like it was his fault. But it's not his fault."

"She was lying there...in all that blood."

"How could he think it was his fault? He didn't go out and buy the needle."

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't insisted she come back stage..."

"I've messed up his life. And Dunn's life...everyone's life. I had to make it up to them. I didn't know where else..."

"She didn't deserve any of that. Not the drugs, not death. But I do, Mark, I do."

"When you and Mimi first came to Chicago, when I first saw you...there was just something. I was always aware we didn't look like Dad, and all our friends looked like thier dads. But we didn't. Then suddenly you show up, I might have only been ten, but I wasn't stupid. But I thought Dad would have told us something like that, and I didn't want any other dad. So, being ten, I got mad. I didn't want to blame Dad--so I didn't. And I never could make myself be mad at Mimi, so, I blamed you. But, really when I think about it..."

"I should have protected her. But I was too busy getting high and becoming famous. She just followed. You know something though? She followed. You followed, but you didn't do the drugs, and you're not dead, and you're not dying. It's my fault. I ruined her life. I'm ruining yours. Don't say I'm not. Let's face you all would be better off without me. I deserve to die, but I can't. All you guys are trying to do is help me. huh?"'

"I don't hate you."

"I'm sorry."


Until next time, this is me...signing out.