Hey…wow, 7 reviews the day after an update
Hey…wow, 7 reviews the day after an update?? That was…amazing. I feel so loved…and hated, lol. I do apologize for not keeping my promise and updating the day after I got the tenth review, but life has been INSANE (Classes, 2 jobs, and being on the exec. Board of a major campus organization will do that to you).
Now, I understand the concern, for myself too it feels like this story is taking forever to get to the damn point. I don't know what's wrong with my muse, but I do seem pretty set on taking the scenic route, huh? I do apologize…and I also promise that 1. The core of the story is coming, and soon and 2. When it gets there, you will hopefully not be disappointed in the wait.
Mainly, the reason I've been writing so many seemingly pointless chapters is because I want the relationship between Mark and Marshall and Reye to be very strong, and the relationship between Mark and Roger to be fairly deteriorated. I feel that if these things aren't done, then what happens in the future chapters just won't seem realistic, justified, or plausible (kinda synonyms there but kinda not).
I have this chapter, one more chapter that is mostly already written (in chunks in various notebooks and off my typewriter, so I still have to type it all up cohesively) and then a huge chapter (huge in terms of importance…although it should be kinda long) that is mostly written…and has been waiting for me to use it for months now. Once that chapter is up, everything will make a bit more sense and the ball will effectively be rolling… so please, stay with me?
PS: You guys owe me, because I completely rewrote this entire chapter…decided not to wait till I finally found the right damn zip disk.
I don't own RENT…you can tell, RENT was straightforward :P
Good Times
Mark lay contentedly in Marshall's arms. "I love you." He said, expressing the happiness that he felt to his core, and not even worrying about the fact that this was the first time he had ever said this to the photographer.
There was silence from his boyfriend, before "I hate you."
Startled, Mark turned in the arms that still held him, and looked in sudden horror at…Roger.
Only, it wasn't Roger…not like he had ever seen him anyways. He was white as chalk and the thinnest he had ever been. "Roger?" Mark asked shakily, pulling from his grasp slightly, but finding himself not able to pull away entirely.
"I hate you." Roger said again, his voice flat and cold.
"Roger…Roger, are you okay? You…you don't look okay…"
Roger just stared blankly at him as lesions started forming over his skin: his chest, face, arms and neck becoming splotched.
"Roger? Answer me, please!" Mark's voice was getting desperate now as Roger seemed to get worse in front of his eyes. The musician just continued to state at him, oblivious to his deteriorating body, as he grew skinnier and skinnier, his hair beginning to fall out in chunks.
"I hate you, Mark. I hope you die."
Mark was now terrified of the skin and bones creature in front of him, trying desperately to free himself from the skeletal fingers that clutched at his arms with impossible strength, preventing escape.
Roger shriveled even more, so that he was just colored bone and burning green eyes. "I hate you, Mark. I want you to die…"
Mark finally ripped from the grip, breaking the bones at the wrists, and scuttled back as the body started disintegrating.
"Die…like me." The voice said as Roger's once body exploded into ash, and Mark was screaming…
Mark sat up with a gasp, fighting the sheets that were wrapped around his legs, his struggling suddenly sending him off the side of the bed and onto the floor with an 'oomph'.
He breathed for a few moments, trying to calm down from the images of the dream. He jumped, startled, at a knock at his door…and then stared at it in confusion for a moment before answering.
"Yeah?"
The door opened slightly and Roger's face appeared in the crack. "You okay? I heard a crash or something."
Mark shook off his shock, "Um…yeah. I just fell off the bed."
Roger laughed. "Klutz." He said before his head disappeared.
Mark stared at the closed door for a moment. That was…odd. Shrugging it off, he got up to attend to some hygienic needs.
He was stopped on his route to the bathroom, however, by the sight awaiting him in the kitchen. Roger was sitting on the table, a bowl of cereal in his lap. That in itself was not unusual. What had stopped him, and brought him wandering over, was the second bowl of cereal, innocently sitting on the counter in his old spot next to Roger.
They never ate together anymore. That roommate ritual had died months before, from both ends. Yet, there was that bowl of cereal, just sitting there. Like it was supposed to be there. Like there was never a time that it hadn't been there. Metaphorically.
He must have been staring at it for a good moment because suddenly he was struck from his thoughts by an irritated snap:
"Well are you going eat it or stare at it all day?"
His gaze shot to Roger just in time to see what could have been a wince on the musician's face.
"Its going to get soggy." He added softly, as if apologizing for his earlier roughness.
Mark nodded distractedly, taking the bowl in his hands and hopping up on the table in his old spot. Wow, this feels…awkward…But good…like before.
They ate in pure silence, the only sound the crunch and occasional slurp of cereal meeting mouth. Roger finished first, but strangely did not get up like expected. Instead, he continued to sit there in silence, as Mark ate.
At a length, he spoke. "So, you going out today?"
Mark looked at him for a moment before recovering quickly. "Um…yeah, probably." He shrugged.
Roger nodded absently. Hopping down, he put his bowl in the sink with a clatter and went to his room.
Mark stared after him for a moment, realizing that this was the first time in a long time that Roger had not walked away from him in anger…he'd just…walked away. He's being unusually nice this morning…should probably milk it for all its worth.
"You take your AZT?" he called at the open room.
Roger's head stuck out after a moment. "You're not my mother, Cohen." He barked. There was a moment of tenseness before he suddenly stalked out, grabbed the pill bottle from the coffee table beside the couch, and popped a pill. "Happy, asshole?" he snapped before going back to his room and slamming the door.
Mark almost laughed at the quickness things had gone back to normal. Well, can't expect miracles.
Finishing his cereal, he decided that he would go out after all. Marsh and Reye were out of the picture for the day, and he hadn't made any plans with his other new friends…but there was always filming. He grabbed his camera from its almost dusty place in the corner, and frowned over the fact that it had been several days since he'd touched it.
Slinging it over his shoulder and grabbing his bike, he left Roger to his brooding.
LINELINELINELINELINELINE
Mark walked into the loft, hauling his bike to the wall and putting his camera back to the corner with a sigh. He was skinny, but damn if his legs weren't strong after all these years living in the loft.
Roger was sitting on the couch, holding his guitar but not playing. He looked over and acknowledged him with a nod.
Mark went over to the kitchen and pulled a piece of almost, but not quite, stale bread from the cupboard, leaning against the metal table as he absently munched on it. He was rather surprised when Roger came over next to him, hopping up on the table mere inches from where Mark leaned.
"Where you been all day?" he asked after a moment, startling Mark slightly, a fact that he tried to hide.
"Eh, no where special. The café's closed, so I just filmed around downtown."
Roger gave him a weird look. "The Life is closed?"
Mark returned his look, confused. "No, of course not…" he trailed off, realizing his mistake.
He doesn't know about the café…or Reye…Marshall…anything… He stared at Roger for a moment, considering just how much about his new life that Roger had absolutely no knowledge of. Well, he wouldn't, would he? This is the first time we've actually talked in…a long time. He stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about whether he should explain things, and if so, how much?
"I don't go to the Life…I go to a little coffee shop a couple blocks away, it's closed today because the barista's out of town." He explained slowly.
Roger nodded. "Coffee shop? Wait, you have money?" He said, but not unkindly.
Mark grinned slightly. "Well, I don't actually need money-"
He was cut off by Roger, "Why wouldn't you…oh wait, you're fucking the barista!" he finished with a laugh.
Mark grimaced. "Ew! No, hell no! Reye's like seventeen! And just…no! She's a kid…and like a sister-type."
Roger looked unimpressed. "So you're fucking the manager? Owner? …Her mother?!"
Mark laughed. "No, no, and definitely no! …I'm not fucking anyone." Yet…Now is not the time, brain, shut up! "Me and Reye are friends, I don't get anything for free, I have a tab." He explained.
Roger laughed. "Is this Reye aware that you'll never pay this tab?"
Mark readied his angry reply before stopping himself as he realized Roger was joking with him. "Fuck off." He responded with a grin. Reaching out, Roger slugged him on the arm playfully.
They were silent for a moment before Roger said, "Hey, you want to go with me to my set tonight?"
Mark looked at him in surprise, unable to respond in his shock and confusion.
Roger sneered at him. "Hey, if you don't want to, just say so! I just wanted you to go so you could film, haven't had any new footage since the new members…so whatever, I can just get some kid to do it, he'll probably do a be-"
Mark quickly cut off his angry rant. "No! …I mean, yeah, I want to."
Roger's anger died on the spot, and he smiled slightly. "Oh…okay, cool."
There was a moment of silence before, "Well…its at 10, so be ready…I gotta go take a shower."
Mark stared at him while he went. What the hell is going on?
LINELINELINELINELINELINE
A few hours later, Mark found himself leaning against a table in CBGBs, a half finished beer in one hand and his camera in the other. He was actually enjoying himself quite a bit. He hadn't been to one of Roger's shows in forever, and the new drummer was actually very good. The new second-guitar on the other hand, needed work on his timing; he was off cue several times. Roger was trying hard to make up for it, though.
Mark carefully balanced his camera far enough in front of his face to take a swig of beer. It was cheap shit, but after three now, the taste was drowned out by his pleasant buzz.
Mark taped through most of Roger's set, drinking one more beer in the process. When it was over, Roger wandered over to him.
"Hey, I'll be ready to go in a few. Have to help take down." He said before starting to walk away.
Mark nodded, and as he turned towards the bar, he suddenly saw a familiar face: Baby, or Jerrod rather, to everyone but Reye. They'd talked a few times at parties. Jerrod waved him over to his table, and Mark smiled, walking towards them when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Turning, he found Roger smiling at him. "You know what? Fuck it, they can handle the clean up. They usually stick me with most of it anyways…have I mentioned that we really need roadies?"
Mark chuckled, glancing over at Jerrod long enough to give a half wave and a mouthing of "Roommate!" before getting led out of the bar.
Roger and him actually talked the whole way home…all about Roger and his set, but Mark didn't mind.
Conversation was conversation.
LINELINELINELINELINE
So, that's it…I wanted it to be longer…but I opted to just get it out faster. Same rules about reviews apply…and I'll stick to it this time, I'm a little less busy.
