To Be
DISCLAIMER: I do not own RENT or anything affiliated with it.
"Come with me," Mark said, walking into Roger's room.
"What are you talking about?" Roger asked.
"Come to Colorado with me."
"You're out of your mind. I don't have money for a plane ticket," Roger told him.
"It's taken care of. And before you ask, no, I didn't pay for it. Just come, Roger. You haven't left the city in years. You need to get out of town for a while, especially now," Mark said.
"I'm not interested. Take Maureen."
"Either you're going with me, or neither of us is going," Mark said.
"Hope you don't mind missing it, then. Because I'm not going," Roger replied.
"Your name's already on the ticket."
"Too bad."
"Stop acting like a petulant child, Roger. You know Mimi wouldn't want to see you like this," Mark reminded him. Roger looked around the room and sighed.
"Fine. I'll go," Roger said. "When are we leaving?"
"Friday. That gives you time to get off work, right?" Mark asked.
"Yeah."
LINELINELINELINE
Mark watched as Roger sat next to Mimi's headstone. He could tell that his friend was crying as he spoke. He just waited, knowing that Roger needed to do this. He himself still needed to do this, but he wanted to put it off for as long as possible. He didn't feel the immediate need for closure. Despite his promises to his friends to open up and not to hold his emotions in, he still felt as though it was his job to be strong for the rest of them.
After a while, Roger stood up and walked over towards Mark. "Sorry," the rocker muttered, wiping the tears out of his eyes. Mark simply nodded.
"It's okay."
"I can wait on you, if you want," Roger said, looking off towards the headstone.
"No, I'll come back later," Mark said.
"Don't bottle it up again, Mark," Roger warned as they walked away.
"I'm not. I just… I need more time," Mark replied.
"It's been two weeks. We're leaving for Colorado tomorrow, and you won't get the chance for another few weeks," Roger told him.
"I know."
LINELINELINELINE
Mark yawned as Roger shoved the key into the lock of their motel room door. It was the middle of the night, and the two had just gotten into town. After a few moments of struggling, the door finally opened and the two walked inside, turning on the lights.
"What the fuck?" Roger asked, looking at the bed. There was only one. "You've got to be kidding me."
"It's too late to deal with this tonight, Rog. We'll work it out in the morning," Mark said. "I can sleep in the floor."
"No, you take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor," Roger said, putting his suitcase in a corner near the back of the room.
"It'll be cold down there. You'll get sick," Mark said. "You take the bed."
"I'm not sleeping in the bed if you're on the floor. And you could get sick, too, in case you forgot," Roger replied.
"It would be worse if you got sick. I can take it," Mark said. He threw his suitcase into the corner with Roger's.
"You're too fucking hard headed," Roger said. "I haven't been sick in a long time. I'll be fine."
"I'm not going to argue with you about this. Go to bed," Mark said, walking towards the bathroom. Roger sat down on the bed and waited for Mark to come back out.
"I'm not sleeping on this bed if you're in the floor," Roger said. "It's a big bed, Mark. There's room for both of us."
"You sure?" Mark asked.
"Of course I'm sure. I'd have to be a total asshole to make you sleep on the floor," Roger said. He sighed and took off his jacket, throwing it on top of their luggage.
LINELINELINELINE
Roger rolled over in his sleep and pulled the warm body next to him closer. "S'cold, Meems," he muttered, not even opening his eyes.
When Mark woke up a few hours later, it took him several moments to figure out where he was and who was holding him so close. "Roger?" he asked, somewhat confused.
"What?" Roger asked, not opening his eyes.
"Why are you hugging me?" Mark asked. Roger opened his eyes, before quickly pulling away from his best friend.
"Sorry. I must have gotten cold," Roger said, getting out of the bed quickly. "Sorry."
"S'okay. Weird, but okay," Mark said. He stood up and stretched. Roger looked away quickly; he couldn't stand to watch the skin stretch across Mark's bones. He was still so skinny.
"How much weight have you gained back?" Roger asked.
"Can we not talk about my weight, please?" Mark asked, throwing on a tee shirt.
"I can still see your ribs poking through your skin," Roger replied.
"I have a hard time gaining weight, Rog. High metabolism," Mark told him. He walked over towards the bathroom. "I'm getting in the shower." Roger sighed and laid back down in the bed.