Thrash Unreal

Roger opened his eyes slowly, trying to remember what exactly had caused him to wake up at the ungodly hour of one in the afternoon. He'd just decided to forget about it and go back to sleep when he heard his roommate and best friend utter a curse from the other room. Now that he thought about it, Mark was the reason he had woken up. The filmmaker had been singing outside his door, probably on his way to make coffee.

Mark swore again and Roger gave up on sleep. He swung out from under the covers of his bed and padded to the door. There was no need to get dressed. Ever since April had died and Roger had begun and ended his withdrawal, he never left the loft. So he sat around in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt all the time. Mark had long since given up on making him war decent clothes.

When Roger entered the loft's main room, he saw Mark sitting on the couch with a notebook on his lap and a pencil in his hand. Seeing this made Roger glance over at his guitar, sitting covered in dust. He sighed and came over to sit beside his friend.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he asked. Mark shrugged and Roger frowned and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Don't do that." He said. "Tell me what you're doing."

Mark winced. "You'll get mad." He responded. "Really mad."

Roger rolled his eyes and held out his hand for the notebook. Mark sighed and gave it to him. The ex-rocker read for a minute and then looked up at the bespectacled blond beside him. "This is about April, isn't it?" he asked.

Mark nodded. "Yeah. It's supposed to be a song. I started it when I first found out about her and the drugs. Then when everything happened with her…and with you," he shrugged again. "I sort of forgot about it. I've been working on it for the past few days and I just finished it." The filmmaker waited for his friend to blow up at him.

To his surprise Roger just nodded. "Could you sing it for me?" he asked.

Mark took the notebook back and nodded as well. He cleared his throat a few times. "Uh…just know that my voice isn't nearly as good as yours." Roger rolled his eyes and Mark took a deep breath.

"If she wants to dance and drink all night, well there's no one that can stop her.

She's going till the house lights come up or her stomach spills onto the floor.

This night is gonna end, when we're damn well ready for it to be over.

Worked all week long now the music is playing on our time.

Yeah we do what we do to get by and we need a release.

No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to be a junkie.

No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to sleep alone."

Mark stopped singing and looked over at Roger. He had his eyes closed, no doubt remembering the times he'd spent with April. "Keep going." He murmured.

"Now she's been messing with the wrong guys, she got messed on the wrong drugs

Sometimes her body takes her places that she didn't really plan on going

When people see the track marks on her arms, she knows what they're thinking

She keeps on working at that little job as if her high school education gave her any other options

You know they don't know nothing about redemption

They don't know nothing about, recovery

Some people just aren't the type for marriage and family"

Roger chuckled there. April had hated kids. At one point she told him that if he got her pregnant then she'd kill him.

"No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to be a junkie.

No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to die alone.

No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to be a junkie.

No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to die alone.

And if she had the chance to do it over again,

I bet she wouldn't change anything for the world."

Mark finished the song and looked at Roger. His eyes were still closed, but he looked happy. "You're right," he said. "She probably wouldn't change anything." He sighed. "Thanks Mark, I needed to hear that." Roger got up and walked back into his room. Mark picked up his pencil again and scribbled something in the notebook, then sang it softly.

"And if he had the chance to do it over again,

I bet he wouldn't change her, but change himself if he could."