Rating: K
Warnings: None
Song Featured: "Radames' Letter" from the musical Aida
Disclaimer: RENT is the sole property of Jonathan Larson. Also, the song "Radames' Letter" is the sole property of Elton John and Tim Rice.
--line break--line break--
Roger sped down the highway, the fight with Mark echoing in his head. He'd said the worst possible things he could think of. Mark hid in his work, true, but no more than Roger hid in his music or Collins in his philosophies.
I'm sorry for everything I said
He hadn't wanted to leave like that. He'd planned on a nice, quiet last dinner at the loft. One last chance to thank Mark for everything he'd done for him over the years: getting him through the withdrawals, through April's suicide…Instead, he'd yelled at him and fought with him
And for everything I forgot to say too
Roger knew why he'd gotten angry. Mark wanted him to stay. Mark wanted him to stay for Mimi. He should have stayed for Mimi. He should have wanted to stay for Mimi.
When things get so complicated,
I stumble, at best, muddle through
Roger didn't want to stay for Mimi. He wanted to stay for Mark. He wanted Mark to fight for him to stay. He wanted Mark to ask him to stay to be with him. Roger wasn't sure when the hell that had happened, when his platonic love for Mark shifted into something more. All Roger knew was that ever since he caught Mimi buying more smack from the Man, he wanted nothing to do with her romantically.
He'd gone back to the loft in tears. Mark was there, like always, and comforted him as he had so many times before. As Roger lay in bed that night, he'd wondered why it never dawned on him before how sweet Mark was, how caring and loving he was.
I wish that our lives could be simple
Mark thought he was running. Roger knew that much. Mark thought Roger was running from the grief of Angel dying, from the pain of Mimi slipping away. He missed Angel, sure, but he wasn't running from grief. He worried about Mimi as any friend would. And he wasn't looking for glory like he told Mark.
I don't want the world, only you
Roger gripped the steering wheel with one hand and ran his hand through his hair with the other. Why couldn't Mark see it? Why couldn't he see how much Roger loved him? Roger had never been good at talking about feelings. Mark teased him and said he was afraid of losing his macho image by talking about emotions.
I wish I could tell you this face to face
But there's never the time, never the place
So this letter will have to do
He'd mailed the postcards a few hours after he left the city. One to his mother, telling her he was moving to Santa Fe. The other to Mark with three words that he prayed Mark would understand.
I love you.