Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Jonathan Larson. I only borrow them and toy with their lives.

A/N: I am going to continue the story, but I will stop if no one responds to my chapters.

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Screwed Part II

Roger walked into his room and found Maureen sitting in front of the mirror without her shirt. "Maureen?" he asked, trying to not look at her reflection in the mirror. "What are you doing?"

She looked up at him, turning scarlet. "Oh. Um..." She covered her stomach quickly, scooting away from the mirror. "Uh nothing...I mean..." she trailed off, watching him take her shirt off of his bed."Can I have that back?" He shook his head at her. "What's wrong with your stomach?" he asked quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed and turning towards her.

"N-nothing's wrong with it" she stammered, not looking at him. "You're lying and you know it" he said firmly. "Tell me."

She slowly stood up, walking towards him with her arms still crossed. She stopped in front of him, looking at her feet. "Maureen..." he said again, sitting on her shirt."Show me." She shook her head. "No." she said in a small voice, trembling. "Maureen please...I just want to help...please." he said, begging her now.

She nodded slowly, pulling her arms away and shoving her hands into her back pockets. Roger gasped slightly when he saw the damage. "Did you do this?" he asked, examining the cuts. "Can I have my shirt back?" she asked quietly, dodging his question. "Please..."

"Did you do this?" he asked again, touching her arm. She shook her head slightly. "Not all of them." she replied. "She did some of them." Roger nodded. "You mean Joanne?"

"Yes. Her. She helped. Can I have my shirt back now?" she asked impatiently, reaching for her shirt. "Nope" Roger replied with a smirk, grabbing her shirt and scooting back. "Rogerrrr" she whined, jumping onto the bed and reaching for her shirt again.

He shook his head, laughing. "No way. You look better without one anyways." She smacked his arm, sitting on his legs. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Now gimme my shirt back" she said with a pout, reaching behind him for it. "Hell no." Roger replied, taking her by the shoulders and rolling over so she was now under him.

"What...the...fuck..." Mark said slowly, standing in the doorway. All he had seen was Maureen without a shirt and Roger on top of her. "Roger...Maureen?"

"No Mark... it isn't like that!" she said frantically, pushing Roger off of her and grabbing her shirt.

"It sure looked like it was..." he said, shaking his head.

"Look Mark, I can explain." they said at the same time as Maureen pulled her shirt back on, but not before Mark noticed the cuts along with her black eye.

"Oh my god…Maureen, what happened?" he asked, slightly frantic. "Look Mark, I can explain that too…" she said, getting up. "Look, why don't we go for a walk or something and I'll tell you the whole story."

Roger winced. The whole story. That included them kissing….Mark wouldn't like that.

Mark nodded. "Okay…let's go" They left the apartment together.

Once they were gone, Roger fell back onto the bed. "Fuck…" he muttered, rubbing his head.

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A/N: So there you go. Mark came home!