Disclaimer: I do not own Doug or it's characters.
Chapter 5,
"Alright, weirdo's. I ordered the pizza, and I want you two to go upstairs so that I can watch Shakespeare on Ice." Judy said as she cane down the steps.
"U-upstairs?" Doug said. After such a kiss, Doug didn't really trust himself around Roger. Roger was just gonna be in town for a few weeks. How was Doug suppose to keep himself composed when all he wanted to do was kiss Roger over and over again?
"Yes, Doug! I was the one who went to some crummy porno audition, today! So if I want to unwind by watching a couple of minutes of Shakespeare on Ice, then I think I deserve it!" Judy said and Doug couldn't help but stare. He has heard Judy screaming before, when rehearsing a part or as a voice exercise; however this was different. Judy wasn't just mad, but she actually sounded upset; like genuinely upset- as if her very heart were breaking. Doug didn't know how to react to that.
"Come on, Doug. I'm sure we can find something to do." Roger said, taking a hold of Doug's wrist and pulling the boy to his feet. He offered Doug a small smile, which Doug returned.
"Well, I should have a barnyard chess game in my room. We could play that." Doug said. Judy sat in the couch and changed the channel.
"Dougie, you're over 18. You guys could go upstairs and have sex for all I care, just don't make a lot of sound." Judy said. Doug couldn't help but blush at her words. Then he felt his hands tremble at the arousing, yet embarrassing thought.
"Judy!" Doug complained and Judy shushed him.
"Everyone stop talking." Judy said, not even giving Doug a sideways glance. Roger carefully led the dumbfound boy up the stairs.
"Give her some space Doug, she's had a very hard day, and now she has moral decision to make." Roger said and Doug glanced down the stairs.
"Moral decision? What do you mean?" Doug asked and Roger rubbed the back of his neck.
"It's not easy chasing a dream you want so badly. As time goes by, you may not see any results... makes you wonder if you should keep at it, compromise your values, or just give up on it completely." Roger said and Doug froze.
"Do you really think Judy's at that place?" Doug asked and Roger sighed.
"I drive a monster truck for a living. It's my dream come true, and I see a lot of rookies who try to make it, but they just fizzle out. I recognize the look? And Judy definitely has that look." Roger said. Hearing this made Doug sad and he wished that he had recognized this on his own. If Roger wasn't here, who knows how long it would have taken Doug to realize this.
"Well, I don't know what Judy will do. But I guess I do know what it's like to try to make your dream a reality and it doesn't really happen." Doug said as they walked into Doug's room. After hearing Doug say this, Roger paused as he thought up a response.
"You haven't given up on that novel of yours, have you?" Roger asked as he shut Doug's bedroom door. Doug flung himself onto his bed dramatically and groaned loudly.
"I tried making a novel based on my life here in Bluffington. But it turns out I haven't had such an exciting life." Doug said, throwing his arm over his eyes and Roger sat down on the bed next to Doug.
"And when I look back at my early journals, you know, when I first moved here and such, some of the stuff I wrote about, was so completely stupid. I mean who would believe that a science fair volcano could really destroy the science lab? And what about the time I accidentally signed up to be the Beet Prince in the Sugar Beet Fairy. Or what about the time we went camping with the Bluff Scouts? I was so embarrassed when you put my underwear up on the flagpole. Why would I want to write that for the whole world to read?" Doug asked. He went ahead and lowered his arm to look at Roger. The green boy could only shrug.
"Well, isn't art suppose to be a form of expression?" Roger asked and Doug rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, but why should I express all of those embarrassing things?" Doug asked and Roger bit his lip.
"Everyone goes through embarrassing times. A little bit of vulnerability can go a long way to making your character relatable." Roger said and Doug took a deep breath in and slowly let it out.
"Well, I gotta be honest with you Roger. Sometimes I wonder if I am meant to be a writer." Doug said and Roger's eyes widened.
"What? You've been writing stories forever." Roger said and Doug nodded.
"If anyone was interested in reading Quailman, I'd be working on his comic's nonstop." Doug said and Roger couldn't help but smile.
"Heh, Quailman. The superhero version of you that flashes his underwear to the whole world." Roger said, which earned a small smile and an eye roll from Doug.
"Everyone wants to be a hero every now and again." Doug said in defense.
"Ok, ok, we're getting off topic." Roger said.
"Yeah, I wonder whose fault that was?" Doug said sarcastically and Roger gently hit Doug's knee.
"Can it Funnie, before I cream ya." Roger said and they both chuckled.
"Alright, tough guy; continue." Doug said.
"Ok. Now why would you think, even for a moment, that you weren't meant to be a writer?" Roger asked and Doug sighed heavily.
"I can't really talk about writing with my family... seems like they just see it as a hobby, instead of a potential career. It's very disheartening to put so much effort into something you love, just so others never once realize how important it means to you." Doug said and Roger blinked.
"I guess that can put a damper on that Quail-spirit of yours." Roger said and Doug scoffed.
"Funny, Rog..." Doug whispered and Roger hesitated.
"Sorry. I thought a joke might ease the tension." Roger said. Doug paused for a moment, and then offered him a small smile.
"Thank you." Doug said and Roger rubbed the back of his neck.
"You know, aside from your family, I'm sure that there will be plenty of people who would read your book." Roger said and Doug looked away.
"I wanted to finish a book before I tried to get it published. But I got nothing... I feel like a wash out before I had the chance to start." Doug said and for a moment, Roger was silent. Then he got up and laid down on the bed beside Doug. Needless to say, Doug was surprised by Roger's actions. He felt his breathing deepen and his hands quaking when he felt Roger's incredible warmth pressed against his side.
"Listen, Doug. I might make a lot of jokes and such, but I have faith that you're gonna be a writer one day. You love writing as much as I love monster trucks." Roger said and Doug worked hard to focus on Roger's words and not his body.
"At least you've been successful." Doug commented.
"Most drivers can't grow old and stay popular. Some can and they get to retire. I'm nothin' special Doug. The biggest reason I got so well known, is because ma was a well loved driver before... before my dad left." Roger said and Doug blinked.
"I thought your mom always worked at the hair salon." Doug said and Roger shrugged.
"Mom was a professional monster truck driver when she met my dad. He was a mechanic, er, still is I suppose; I wouldn't know. When I was born, Dad use to watch me while mom went to shows or competitions. When dad left us and went to Bloatsburg, mom got some heat for bringing me along. She occasionally left me with my grandmother, which would have been fine, except my dad didn't like it. Bastard sent in an anonymous tip to Child Services that my grandmother was mentally unstable and I needed to be removed immediately. And since mom was away, I was put in foster care while they investigated my grandma." Roger said and Doug's heart dropped.
"You never told me that before." Doug said.
"Oh, it took a week before they sorted it all out. Mom picked me up from that foster home and swore that I'd never be in one ever again." Roger said. Doug turned his head to look at the sad boy's face.
"And that's when your mom stopped being a driver and got her job at the salon?" Doug asked and Roger nodded.
"She gave up her dream for me. That's not easy for anyone. Granted when I got older, she was able to take me to some shows, but you should see the way she lights up when we talk about monster trucks. Her passion fueled my passion. To this day, my favorite thing about being a monster truck driver has nothing to do with the money- though that's great, or the fans, or the tricks, or the fame... no... none of that compares to the sound of my mom's voice- or better yet, the expression on her face when I get out of my truck." Roger said and Doug couldn't believe his ears.
"That's probably the sweetest thing I've ever heard." Doug admitted and Roger glances at him.
"Do you know why I'm telling you this?" Roger asked and Doug shook his head.
"No. Though I did enjoy hearing about it." Doug said and Roger smirked at him.
"Doug, there is a chance that you'll have to relinquish your dream, one day, for something important... like my mom did for me... Doug, if your passionate about writing, you can't just let that go, because you're worried about how successful you'll be. Most authors only get 10% of book sales anyways. If the book is a dollar, you get 10 cents. Five bucks you get 50 cents; for every ten bucks the book makes, you get a dollar. Even if you publish a book, it may not make you enough money to live off of. Don't write to be successful. Don't write to make a lot of money, or to be famous, or have a weird cult following of groupies that will dress up like Quailman for you. Write because it is the very life force that gets you out of bed, and makes a rough day better; even if it's a bitch of a lot of work." Roger paused to look directly at Doug.
"And if you do it correctly, with enough heart, your passion will fuel someone else's passion; and you'll encourage them to chase their dreams because you did." Roger whispered. Doug didn't know if he wanted to kiss Roger or cry his eyes out.
"You know what, Roger? I'm sorry that you got hurt, but I'm glad to have you back." Doug said. Roger wrapped his arm around Doug's shoulders and pulled him close.
"That's good to hear, Doug." Roger said and he gave Doug's forehead a swift kiss, which made Doug's breath hitch.
"Speaking of hearing; maybe we can lay like this for a while and listen to music instead of playing barnyard chess. Sound good?" Roger asked. Doug didn't want to move, but he blindly reached over to his bedside table and grabbed the remote for his CD player. He pressed play and his favorite Beets album started playing.
Doug felt wonderful, surrounded by Roger's warmth and the melodic melodies they both loved. As odd as it sounded, Doug found himself wishing he were a girl; so that he could always be with Roger and feel like this.