A/N: Okay, do not kill me. I did not forget about this story, nor am I giving up on it. I love this story, but with computer trouble and a new live journal community, it's a little hard to update these days. I'm so sorry and I completely understand if you hate me. Maybe this will make up? Love to all reviewers!

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's.

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Mark's POV

We sit silently on the couch, staring out into space. I feel my necklace wrapped tightly around my pale neck, pinching my skin subtly, but I appreciate that it's there. Every time I come into the room when Roger is there he glances at it, almost to remind me that it was his gift. He wants me to remember forever, and I don't know how I'd ever forget.

Roger takes a drink out of the plastic cup of water sitting in front of us, the one that we have been sharing since we don't really feel like doing the dishes swishing liquid throughout his mouth almost as if to savor the feeling of not being thirsty. He sighs and leans back against the couch, smiling sadly over at me and then furrowing his brow.

"I'm thinking about starting the band up again. You know, calling the guys to see if they'd want to?" He seems giddy at the prospect of playing in a band again, being famous, singing on stage in crowded clubs and bars. But maybe things have changed. Maybe this time he doesn't want all the attention from girls and even guys. Maybe this time he just wants to write music again. To sing with his band again. He wants that rush that came with performing again.

He's not the same person. That person who would try any new drug he got his hands on, until he found heroin. That person who would fuck any crazed fan that he set his eyes on, until he found April. That person who wouldn't let anyone help him, until he found me. But I wasn't the one who changed him. Evidently he couldn't be changed until Mimi came along.

Mimi surfaced in Roger's life and everything changed. He got out of the loft, he opened up, and he was able to let go of all that was holding him back. I could see him change. He was always talking, always worrying, always suspicious. But he would never mention it to Mimi. After Roger came home after a night with the dancer I would get an earful about what guy she was flirting with or how much drinking she had done. But I listened. And maybe that's why he never told Mimi what he felt. Because I was always there first. To listen.

With his comment we sit in silence for a while, gaping at the door as if someone is about to burst in at any second. Then I finally decide I should probably respond to his idea. After all it's Roger. He needs some kind of an appraisal.

"Yeah…sure. You always did have fun with them." I grasp the cup out of his hand, taking a small sip and swallowing it with a huge gulp. I can feel a lump in my throat, those kind of wet bumps that stick and make you even thirstier than you are. He nods dazedly next to me, letting his eyes fall with every drop of his head.

"All right. Maybe I'll talk to Mimi first? See if it's okay?" I turn my head sharply and wrinkle my forehead. Why would Roger need Mimi's consent? It's his band, and she's not his mother. Roger never asked me to grant him permission before Mimi came along.

"What do you mean? Why would she care?" I have a feeling that came out meaner than I meant it to sound, but Roger doesn't really notice either way. Instead he snatches the cup right back out of my hand, pressing his lips harshly to the rim and finishing off the water. He wipes the liquid away from his lip with the sleeve of his t-shirt before proceeding to smile proudly at me. I punch him in the shoulder and make my way over to the faucet to re-fill it.

"She cares because she's my girlfriend. Plus being in the band again would take up a lot of my time. I don't want to ignore her like I did with April...sometimes." The water overflows in the cup, spilling onto my hand and prompting a light wince. I wasn't even watching. I wipe it away with a stray napkin from some restaurant Joanne treated us to, then head back to the couch.

"You never really ignored April. Her and I just got to see a lot more of you onstage than off." I throw my body next to his, refusing his hand when he reaches for the full cup.

"Well what if we hit it big this time? I don't want to be one of those boyfriends who only talks to their girlfriend over the phone." He continues to stare at nothing, avoiding my eyes while he continues to keep focus on his thoughts.

"I guess." I mumble, twiddling my thumbs on my lap. "Besides I wouldn't exactly want to be left alone in this huge loft. I'm sure you could work out something with the guys. You know…so you don't have to be away from home for too long." I offer a smile, which he vaguely returns before getting off of the couch.

"I'm getting ahead of myself. I haven't even called the guys yet and I'm talking about hitting it big." A yawn stretches his mouth as he opens the door to his room, walking in slowly. I follow him hesitantly, just to say goodnight. It's only midnight, but I guess he doesn't feel like having another one of those talks that last for hours on end. I probably need the sleep as well.

"You going to sleep?" I peek in his doorway, catching a quick glimpse of him pulling his shirt over his head and jumping into bed. I turn away for some reason, feeling like I am betraying Mimi by looking at my best friend's naked torso. I've never had trouble before, and God knows I've seen Roger naked a few too many times. But why is this different?

"Yeah…I'll call the guys tomorrow. Then maybe we could get together later in the day. I'm getting a little sick of waking up at noon anyways." He sighs loudly, getting comfortable and motioning for me to shut the door. "Night, Mark."

"Goodnight." I shut the door silently, and then head to my own bedroom.

Before I fall asleep, I consider taking the necklace off. But what harm will it do to sleep with it on? I bury my hands underneath my pillow, pulling out that picture of Roger and I before stuffing it back quickly and shutting my eyes.

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Roger's POV

I wake up to a knock at the door, the sunlight beaming no place but my eyes. Seconds later I see a skinny figure standing beside my bed, a silhouette to me. After the gleaming and shadows have disappeared, Mimi emerges. I smile lightly and pull her down into bed with me. Her heels hit my shins roughly but I ignore the pain. I'm used to her playfully pressing them into my foot when I become a smart ass.

"Hey baby. What are you doing here so early?" I whisper in her ear, and she snuggles under my arm, taking in a deep breath.

"It's one Roger. I'd hardly call that early." She giggles, kissing me gently on the cheek. But I'm too angry to notice or even care.

"One! Shit! Why didn't Mark wake me up? Damn it! I wanted to call the guys early so we could meet up later today." I slip out from under the dancer without much care or placidness, then pull on my jeans and head out to the kitchen. She calls after me, but I'm too preoccupied to listen.

Mark sits at the counter, sipping his coffee and picking at some dirty spot on the metal top. I storm towards him, as if he's killed someone, grasping his shoulder and turning him swiftly on the stool.

"You were supposed to…wake me up." I hesitate when I see him scrunch back in fear, then decide that perhaps I am overreacting. His blue eyes stare back at me, apologizing for not being able to speak at the moment. "I just…I wanted to call the guys. You know? Like we were talking about last night?"

"Sorry. I just figured…I dunno. Call them now. It's only one. You guys used to be out 'til the early morning. I don't see the problem." He returns to his coffee, as I suddenly remember that Mimi is still in the bedroom.

"Yeah…I guess." I murmur before returning to the bedroom to face Mimi, sitting erectly with her arms across her chest and a pout on her face. I climb in bed once again, reaching to peck her on the cheek when she leans away from me. "Sorry Meems, I just…I was surprised that it was so late." Slowly my hand creeps to land on her thigh, fingers brushing lightly across the fabric of her tight skirt. I examine her revealing shirt, and pray that she is headed to work, even though that doesn't quite make sense considering what time of day it is.

"Who did you need to call so early?" There's a bite in her voice and she squirms away from my touch, and I finally give up, clasping my hands together on top of my stomach.

"Umm…the band. Look, Mimi. I meant to ask you. Do you think…you'd be all right with me maybe…getting together with the band again?" I grasp a piece of her hair softly, twirling it around my finger again and again and again, waiting for her answer. But all she does is sigh.

"Would that mean…I would see you even less?" She stares straight ahead, her jaw clenched, her fists closed tightly.

"I guess. What do you mean…even less?" Both her anger and her statement confuse me. She suddenly seems so mad at me, and I don't even know what I've done wrong. Lately she has been irritable like this. Maybe it's me, doing something that I'm not aware of. But something is bothering her. She just won't tell me what.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Call the band if you want. You have fun with them, right?" She smiles, but I can see right through it. It's fake, it's false, it's small and sad.

"I haven't seen them in a long time…but yeah. Yeah, we did have fun. I just hope that they want to start again." I press my palm to my face, trying to wipe away those years…those drug filled, sex filled, regret filled years. I did everything that shouldn't have been done to those guys. My friends. I pushed them away, pretended not to care when they kicked me out, when they told me I was screwing up my life. I should have listened to them. I should have stayed away from drugs, from such a dangerous lifestyle. But should has nothing to do with reality.

I dial the numbers quickly, faster than I thought I would remember them. I hear the ringing, and my heart pounding simultaneously. I'm starting over. I just hope that they too can forget about the past.

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Notes: Again, I am so sorry about not updating this sooner. And if the next chapter takes this long, you have the permission to hate me. Thank you!