A.N - Thanks for all your reviews. I'm sorry if I didn't reply - I'll make sure to from now on.

I feel that this chapter is a bit forced but meh, make up your own mind.

Chapter 6

The next three weeks passed in a blur for Roger. A tiring, ever-lasting blur.

He had spent practically every day in a cramped studio, singing his song over and over and over again. Roger had fast learned that the music business was rough. Every time he'd started singing, he'd been stopped and asked to change it - a suggestion here, add a guitar rift there.

By the time December 23rd rolled around Roger was more then ready for a few days off.

His recording was far from finished - at least according to the staff over at SF Records. To Roger, the song was as good as it was going to get.

He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his bleary eyes as he waited for his bus to start boarding people.

Roger was going back to New York for Christmas. To see Mark and Collins - who was also returning to the city - as well as every one else.

As far as Roger had been told, Mimi was still missing.

And every time he thought about her alone and cold his heart skipped a beat and clenched painfully in his chest.

"Bus Number 241 to New York City, leaving in 15 minutes."

A static voice broke over the silence of the bus station. It was, more or less, empty, everyone having already gone home for the holidays.

Roger sighed and picked up his guitar in one hand as he picked up his bag with the other. Trudging his way over to the bus, he showed his ticket and sat down in an empty seat, pulling out his notebook as he did so.

He had never been used to having people tell him what to do in regards to his music. No one had called him on what he'd written in the past, except maybe his band in college but that was understandable as they were going to be performing too.

Over at the recording studio, out of the managers, vocal coaches, editors and whatever else, he was going to be the one singing. And it was only going to be his future career at stake. Not anyone else's.

Roger just couldn't see why they thought they had any input in his creative ideas.

Rolling his eyes as he thought of what he'd put up with since agreeing to the entire thing, Roger studied his notebook and the original version of his song.

It was so much better, in his opinion.

As he read over the words, Roger remembered the many memories that had washed over him as he wrote the song.

'The Night You Came Into My Life'

He remembered that night with such clarity. She had come up to his room, asking for a light. That was basically all it had taken for him to start falling for her.

'Why does distance make us wise?'

He didn't know. He only knew that being so far away from her - in Mimi's time of need - had practically killed him knowing that he could do nothing to help.

'You were the song all along

And before the song dies

I should tell you, I should tell you

I have always loved you'

And he had. Roger had always loved Mimi. The song he wanted to write so much - the song he wanted to leave his mark upon the world - was destined to be about her. Because he loved her.

Roger closed his eyes as the memories washed over him once again. A small smile graced his lips at the thought of going home and finally doing something productive to help find her.

He was going home.

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Roger jerked awake as the bus screeched to a stop at the station in New York.

Shaking his head to clear the drowsiness that still lingered, Roger filed off with the rest of the passengers who were all as tired as he was from the long journey.

He hadn't told Mark he was coming home, instead wanting to make it a surprise.

Making sure he had all of his bags, Roger began the short trek to the loft, which wasn't far away.

Taking in the New York sights after having been gone for almost two months, Roger couldn't help but smile. He was home again.

Finally reaching the apartment, Roger took out his key and opened the door before walking in and putting his stuff down.

Smiling he looked around the strangely empty room. Their apartment was normally the one everyone met at before going out and such. It was unusual for it to be empty, even at this time.

"Mark?" He called out trying to locate his best friend. It was quite late and Mark had never been one to stay out all night. "Mark are you here?"

A person appeared to the left of Roger, scratching his head tiredly as he squinted to get a clearer look at who had woken him up.

"It's two in morning," came Mark's voice. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"Mark!" Roger called over before adding jokingly, "Wearing your glasses would help you recognise me, you know."

"Roger?" Mark disappeared into the room he'd come from only to re-appear a minute later pushing his glasses up his nose. "Roger! You're here."

"Yeah," Roger went over and pulled Mark into a friendly hug, which he happily returned. "Recording was a bitch. Wanted to come home for Christmas."

Roger shrugged.

"Oh yeah," Mark said sitting down on the couch. "How's that demo going?"

Roger groaned.

"It's not," He stated simply. "Everyone's trying to get me to change it."

Mark winced, knowing that Roger didn't like other people pushing into his song writing.

"Ouch."

Roger nodded, agreeing.

"Well," Mark broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two. "As much as I'd like to talk, I'd like to sleep more, considering the time."

Roger laughed, "Yeah, sorry about that." He said. "Just happy to be here I guess. Where is everyone, anyway?"

Mark rolled his eyes.

"See you in the morning, Roger." He called as he made his way back into his bedroom, dismissing Roger's question.

"Sweet dreams," Roger called back mockingly as he stood up to make his way into his old room.

Collapsing on the bed Roger had time to briefly compare the feeling of being in his old bed to that of staying in the stiff hotel one back in Santa Fe - his bed beat the hotel one by far - before falling asleep once again.