Two weeks later…

Maureen came home from work and saw the police outside the loft. She ran to the nearest one.

"What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, miss, we can't—"

"I live here!"

"Where?"

"Top floor loft."

"Maureen," Mark said.

Her head snapped to him. His face was paler than normal, cheeks streaked with tears. She ran to him and flung her arms around him. "Mark! Mark, what happened?"

"April…she, um, she…" he broke down in tears.

"What happened? Mark, where's April? Where's Roger?"

"April killed herself," he whispered.

"What?"

"She…she slit her wrists in the bathroom…I…by the time I got home…she…she…"

Maureen pulled his head to her shoulder and she tried to comfort him as her own tears slid down her cheeks.

Roger stumbled through the city streets. He didn't have enough to get more smack and couldn't bring himself to go back to the loft. April. April…she was already gone by the time he got there. Mark found her and called the cops. He wandered into a bar and sat down.

"What can I get ya?"

Roger pulled out the couple dollars he did have on him. "What can this get me?"

The bartender eyed him for a minute then shook his head. "Here. On the house. You look like you need it," he said as he set a beer in front of Roger.

Roger thanked him and shoved the crumpled bills back into his jacket. The drink was nearly gone when Benny showed up.

"What the hell are you doin'?"

Roger looked up, tears in his eyes. "Benny, April…"

"I know. Maureen called me. Mark's a wreck. What the hell are you doin' here?"

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Come on," Benny said.

Benny pulled out his wallet and set a few bills on the counter to cover Roger's tab. He took Roger by the elbow and led him out to the street.

"Come on, man. You gotta come back."

"Why? You don't."

Benny sighed. "Okay. I deserve that. But I don't come back because I've moved on with Allison. Not because I'm running from dealing with shit."

"I'm not running."

"What do you call it?"

Roger looked at the ground. Benny stared at him. "Look, Roger, I know we don't always see things eye to eye but you're not the only one hurting right now."

"You hardly even knew her! You met her twice!"

"I'm not talking about me! I'm talking about Maureen, who can't stop crying. I'm talking about Collins, who's on his way home to bury one of his best friends. I'm talking about Mark, who's so fucking traumatized right now that he won't say a single word to anyone!" Benny shouted.

Roger froze. Maureen was crying. They didn't know why. It wasn't April. He knew it wasn't April. Maureen didn't know her that well. It takes Maureen a while to get attached. This was bad. And Mark, most days he couldn't get Mark to shut up for five minutes. Now he wouldn't talk?

"Are you coming back or am I gonna have to tell them you chose the booze and drugs over them?"

He didn't answer Benny but followed him silently back to the loft. As they rounded the corner, Roger felt himself tense up. He needed a hit. Needed it bad. Nausea swept over him. He reached out and grabbed Benny's arm.

"Whoa, you okay?"

Roger shook his head and stumbled into the alleyway. He threw up and was surprised to feel Benny's hand on his back.

"It's all right, Rog…"

After a minute, he stood back up.

"Feel better?"

Roger shook his head.

"That from what happened or because you haven't had a hit?" his voice wasn't angry or harsh, just concerned.

Roger blinked back tears. "Second," he said quickly.

Benny nodded. "You need to stop that shit." Without waiting for Roger to answer, Benny went back to the street. "You coming?"

Roger nodded and followed him upstairs. The police had left and Mark sat with Maureen on the couch. She was sobbing into his chest. He rubbed her back, her hair, but didn't say anything. Just stared straight ahead. He was on complete auto-pilot.

Roger looked at Benny. "Talk to him. I'll calm her."

"You sure?"

Roger nodded and crossed the loft to the couch. He put a hand on Maureen's arm. She lifted her head enough to see who it was. He pulled her up into his arms. Benny hauled Mark into his bedroom and shut the door. Roger knew there would be no way to get Mark to snap out of it while his girlfriend was hysterical in front of him.

"Maureen, it's okay…it's okay…"

"No, it's not," she cried.

Roger wrapped his arms tighter around her. He whispered in her ear, "It's not your fault."

Maureen pulled back. "Did you see the note?"

"Note? What note?"

Maureen shoved him away and went to the metal table. She handed Roger a slip of paper. "Mark found this on the bathroom counter."

Baby we got AIDS.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, reading the words again and again.

Maureen shook her head. "I don't know. But I think we should get tested."

"We?"

"If you have it, there's no way to know when you got it."

Three weeks later…

"Roger, open the door," Mark said, his voice tight with restrained anger.

"Leave me alone!"

"You can't stay in there forever!"

"Watch me!"

"I can't watch you if you don't open the fucking door!"

Collins sighed. "Let me try."

Mark stepped aside and went back to the kitchen. Maureen handed him a cup of coffee. He took it and smiled, kissing her softly. "Thanks."

She wrapped her arms around his waist, needing to feel someone there. Her mind kept flashing back to their house in Pennsylvania. The fights, the screams, the drugs…Mark set his cup down and wrapped his arms around her.

"He'll be okay, babe. We'll get him through this."

She nodded and looked up at him. "Let me try talking to him."

Mark nodded. "Sure."

Collins was quickly losing his temper. "Roger! Open the fucking door!"

"Go to hell!"

"Boy, so help me God if you don't open this door right now I'm kickin' it in!"

"Collins, let me try," Maureen said.

He stepped aside, shaking his head. Maureen knocked softly.

"Go to hell! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

"Roger, it's me," she said calmly. "Can-can I come in?"

Collins rolled his eyes and looked at Mark, who only shrugged. The door clicked open and Maureen slipped into the room, shutting the door behind herself.

"What the hell just happened?" Mark asked.

"Think we just entered The Twilight Zone," Collins said with a small laugh.

"Can I sit down?" she asked.

Roger nodded and scooted over on the bed. She sat down and reached over to brush one of his tears away.

"Why won't you come out?"

Roger shook his head. "Because I'm a fuck-up. Because all I do is hurt people. Because I'm dying. Pick a reason."

"You're not a fuck-up."

Roger looked at her. "Yes, I am."

"Roger, I know you better than anyone. You're a lot of things… A drug addict, occasionally a pain in the ass, but you're also a good friend and a talented musician and a good man."

Roger turned from her, shaking his head. "If I'm so good, then how the hell did I end up here?"

"You made some bad decisions."

Roger rolled his eyes. "Understatement of the century."

Maureen put her hand on his back. "But you don't have to keep making them."

"I hate who I am," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I hate who I am, who I've become." She didn't have to see his face to know the tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I don't want to be like this."

"You don't have to," she said, turning him towards her. "Let us help you. Me, Mark, Collins…let us help you get clean once and for all."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because that's what friends do. And once upon a time we were best friends. We always swore that that wouldn't change, no matter what else did."

Roger nodded, pursing his lips. He dried his cheeks with the backs of his hands and took a shaky breath. "Okay."

Maureen stood up. "Let's go."

She opened the door and led Roger out. Mark and Collins stared, jaw-dropped. Collins found his voice first.

"What's goin' on?"

Roger looked at Maureen. She nodded to him. "Go ahead. If you really want this, you need to be the one to say so."

He nodded. "I, um, I want to get clean. I don't want to be like this. And I know…I know I've been a jerk and I know I don't deserve it but I just…I need help. I can't do this myself."

Mark stood up and hugged him tightly. "We'll help you."

"You will?"

"Course. That's what friends do."

Collins smiled and stepped up. He waited for Mark to move and hugged Roger. "I'm proud of you, boy."

Mark smiled. "I don't know how you managed to get through to him, but thanks."