Okay, so for the last two chapters I forgot to put a disclaimer, so here it is: In a perfect world, I would own RENT and the characters in it. However, the world is farfrom perfect, so I don't.

And if I try to save him
My whole world would cave in
It just ain't right, it just ain't right

The door slides open. I don't even have to look up to know who it is. I hear giggling and footsteps...then a second set of footsteps, and a SECOND giggling voice. I finally look up to see a girl following Roger inside. I try to become invisible.

"Hey, Mark! Get over here!" Shit. He's spotted me.

"Hey, Roger. And...?" I ask, forcing a smile. She smiles back, red hair falling in her eyes.

"April. I'm Roger's girlfriend." He kisses her cheek. "I'm gonna get ready for bed."

"'kay, babe. I'll be in in a minute." The bedroom door closes and Roger looks over at me, grinning. "So...isn't she great?" I'm not amused.

"How long have you been seeing her?" I fold my arms.

"About a month now." He looks at me questioningly. I think he already knows what's coming.

"A MONTH? You've had a girlfriend for a fucking MONTH and you never told me? I thought I was your best friend!"

"You are! Andn you did the same thing with Maureen, so I didn't think it was a big deal!" He gets defensive and looks at me like I'm crazy. He's probably not wrong.

"That's different." Now it's my turn to go on defense.

"How?" he challenges. Damn, he's got me there. When I don't respond he heads toward his room. Before he reaches the door, I say the first thing that comes to mind in an effort to get the last word in.

"You have to stop using." He stops dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turns to face me, a cold anger in his eyes.

"You don't tell me what to do. Stop trying to be my fucking mother." WIth that he slams the door. I slink into my own room and slide into bed. Maureen is already asleep.

After a few minutes I hear squeeking noises filling the loft and for the first time Maureen and I aren't the cause. I roll over and put an arm around her. As the squeeks become accompanied by moans I pull her closer and closer to me, feeling tears stinging at my eyes.

I tell myself it's because I'm afraid the drugs are gonna cause terrible things to happen, that my friend is going to hurt himself, or worse. But even as the thoughts enter my head, deep down I know they aren't true.

Oh, and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster

I'm struck by a large object encompasing my face. I yell and jerk myself out of sleep.

"What the hell?" I look down to see a stray pillow lying next to me. I advert my gaze a few inches upwards to be greeted by a figure leaning on the doorframe.

"Get up, pumpkinhead. I made pancakes." He looks at me expectantly.

"Christ, Rog." I sit up and rub my eyes. He cracks a smile and plants himself Indian-style at the foot of my bed.

"Look...I'm sorry about the other night. I shoulda told you. I just didn't think it would matter." He looks so guilty. I didn't think I'd made him feel THAT bad.

"Don't worry about it. It was nothing." I try to reassure him. Even I don't know why I turned something that stupid into a fight.

"So we're cool?" His eyes fill with hope. I grin evilly and chuck the pillow in his face.

"We are NOW!" I run into the living room with Roger in hoth pursuit, pillow held threateningly above his head.

"You are SO dead, Cohen!" At this our housemates look up from breakfast and burst into laughter. Benny springs into action providing commentary.

"And it's Cohen at the 80! The 90! Oh, and he's tackled by Davis at 95 yards! So close! And he gets a blow to the head by Davis!"

I'm pinned to the floor with Roger straddling my stomach. He raises his arms triumphantly. "Say it!"

Crap. There's no getting out of this unless I oblige. "I'm your biatch."

"Damn right!"