Mark pov:

I felt like screaming. I finally managed to land a job, and judging by the happiness I heard in Roger's tone when I broke the news, things were going to be just fine. Despite the snow beginning to fall, warmth spread throughout my body. Smiling with anticipation for our date, I began on my way back to the loft.

I wasn't sure when I began to feel off. All I know is, when I turned a wrong corner, a bout of anxiety managed to creep it's way into my mind. I had been biking through this city for years, so getting lost was something I hadn't experienced in a long time.

I pulled to a stop when I cut down an unfamiliar alley, and found a dead end. Running my hand through my hair, I let out a sigh. It was getting cold. A figure caught my eye. Was that..?

The man stood with his heavy leather coat, selling to a desperate sixteen year old, who was all over him, begging for more. I felt bile rise up in my throat. I remember when Roger used to be like her, disappearing from the loft at all hours of the night, coming back high, distant, and inhuman.

As I gazed closer, a voice behind me caused me to jump.

"Mark? is that you?" I spun around, a face I recognized gazing back at me. A crooked smile confirmed it.

"Jason?" I asked, relieved that I wasnt alone in a strange part of town anymore. Jason was an old boyfriend of mine. I had broken things off, our relationship was toxic, and we hadn't seen each other for almost ten years. He didn't seem mad now, though. Just happiness, and relief spread across his face.

"You son of a bitch, look at you!" he yelled, running forward, and stealing a tight hug, spinning me a little. I laughed, returning it, missing how well I used to fit into his arms.

"God, it's been so long!" I exclaimed, stepping back, and looking over him. "How have you been?" I asked, gazing up at his familiar brown eyes.

"Eh, i've been surviving, y'know how it is…" I nodded, and he ran a hand through his jet black hair. "How about you?" he asked quietly.

"Doing well for myself, actually… I'm just a little lost at the moment.." I admitted. He laughed for a minute, and shook his head.

"Oh, Marky.. never good with directions, huh?" I winced a little at the nickname. Only Roger was allowed to call me that these days.

"Not really.. could you help me?" I asked. He nodded.

"Sure! why dont we get a drink at the life? catch up? I know my way back."

I looked down. "I dunno, Jason.. I promised Roger id be home by now…"

"Oh man, Roger! I remember him! how is he?" Jason asked. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"Well.. he's… he's fine… he and I… have… been together for almost three years now…" I offered a nervous smile. To my surprise, I found Jason smiling too.

"Aw man, congrats! you guys always seemed like a nice pair.. and hey, just give him a call when we get there, let him know you'll be home late, yeah?"

Worry seemed to be the last thing on my mind. Maybe Jason has changed. He seemed nothing like the man I had left, so many years ago.

"Yeah… i'll do that… okay, sure. Let's catch up." I said, and Jason grinned. We walked off together. Soon we were a few blocks from the life.

He held open the door for me, and we slipped inside. Picking a table by the window, we sat down, and he ordered some drinks for us. My eyes went comically wide as a shot of hard whiskey stared back at me.

"Oh, Jason, no… I can't handle this stuff…" He laughed a little, pushing it towards me.

"Come on, Mark! just try some with me? it's very nice, believe me." I was skeptical.

"Once I call Roger, i'll try some… i'll be right back." I said with a smile, getting up, and turning my back to the table.

When I stepped outside to use the payphone, I found a drunk man Screaming into the receiver. I sighed. Id have to call Roger later. I backed away, shaking my head, and slipping back inside.

"Back so soon?" Jason asked with a smirk. I giggled.

"There's some guy screaming at the phone out there… i'll call Roger later…"

Jason raised his glass, and gazed at me.

"A toast. To us, and where we've ended up." I smiled.

"And to where we go from here.." I added, and we touched drinks. Jason began to sip his, and I looked down at mine. With an encouraging glance from Jason, I drank a little.

I coughed as the first thing I felt was it burning the back of my throat. Was whiskey always this bad? Jason began giggling, and I flipped him off, a smile coming across my own face.

The rest of the night seemed like a blur to me. About twenty minutes after finishing my drink, I began to feel… strange. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion, and my movements were sluggish.

"J-ason?" I asked, watching the blurry figure across from me at the table.

"Aww, you really can't handle your liquor…" he reached out, tipping my chin up.

"Don't… f-eel right…" I whispered, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

"Lets get you home, then… Roger must be worried sick.." I nodded gratefully as he helped me up from the table.

"R-og…" I croaked, blinking slowly. Once we were out in the cold, His strong arms wrapped around me, and I felt myself being dragged. He cut down an alley, and the next thing I knew, I was thrown over his shoulder.

"Ive been waiting eight and a half years for this…" I heard him snarl, his voice becoming dark. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I was in trouble. Big, big trouble.

"Wh-at… what a-re you -doing?" I whined, beginning to squirm. My body seemed to be giving up on me, for I was soon too weak to even move my arms or legs. My eyes went wide as my scarf fell from my shoulders, landing in a heap in the alley. I reached for it, but with no luck, I whimpered pathetically as I was separated from it.

"Taking back what's rightfully mine." As he walked on, all I remember was watching the fading sight of the life, and thinking: Roger, i'm sorry...