A/N: As usual, I own nothing. Yay for Benny and proper Collins introductions in this chapter.

Chapter 7

I was in my tiny dorm room, sitting on my even tinier bed, thinking about the approaching summer. I had decided firmly, that I was not going home. I told my mother I was taking summer classes so I could try and graduate early, that was a lie, but it looked like it might come true. I had another option, but I needed a car, so it would involve asking my roommate, Benjamin Coffin III for a lift, or scraping together enough cash to take the train, and I was broke. My other option was going up to New York City to spend the summer with Roger.

At that moment Benny walked through the door, "Hey, Mark, any summer plans?" he asked, as I stared at him, surprised.

"I was just thinking about that, actually," I said, "Thinking of visiting my friend Roger in NYC, but I have no mode of transportation."

"I love New York," Benny said, grinning and I looked at him again. Benny was not what you would expect a Brown business major to be, and what his name suggested he was. He was from a wealthy African American family, who owned businesses all over North America. But, Benjamin Coffin III, preferably called Benny, who was tall, had a shaved head, and was always clean shaven, had a secret deep love of the arts. All in all, he turned out to be a good friend, saying that when we graduated, he was going to open an Arts studio, where I could produce films. "Would I be welcome on this trip?" he continued.

"Well," I grinned, "Can you drive me?"

"Hmmm...." Benny said, pretending to be thoughtful, "I think that can be arranged, when do you want to leave? And do we need a hotel?"

I shuddered at the thought of the price of a New York hotel, "No, we can stay with my friend Roger, he shares a loft with some people in New York, I have to warn you though, it's in the Lower East Side."

"Well, what's a college adventure without one crazy road trip, staying in a strangers apartment?" Benny asked admirably.

"Roger's not a stranger, we've been best friends since high school."

"You don't think he's changed at all, in a year?"

"Roger? Nah, Roger will never change." I said, "But, how does leaving two days from now sound? I still have to finish cutting this film."

"Sounds good, I'll start packing."

The next night, as I was packing, there was an urgent knocking on the door. Benny looked at me and shrugged, "I'm not expecting anyone."

"Me neither," I hadn't had a visitor all year, which was okay with me. In fact, other then Benny, the person I had been in contact with the most was Roger, closely followed by mother. Roger had called about a week after school started, and told me the address and phone number of the loft, I had scribbled it down hastily and then pinned it to the wall above the phone.

I opened the door, "Maureen?"

"Mark, Mark," she said, running her hands through her hair, "I don't know what to do."

I studied her quickly, Maureen was not at her finest, her curly hair was a tangled mess, her clothes were wrinkled looking, like she had slept in them, and her makeup, eyeliner and mascara was dripping down her face, her big brown eyes were red rimmed, and as I looked at her they filled with tears. "Maureen, what's wrong?"

"I just... I didn't know where else to go," she hiccoughed, "I didn't known what to do, I had to... it wasn't..."

Unexpectedly, she threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and muttering incoherently on my shoulder. Benny looked at me over Maureen's head, and I just stared back. I decided I needed a full story. "Maureen, you have to calm down," and I carefully wrap my arms around her and rub her back, slowly her sobs subside, I lead her over to my bed, and sit her down, then grab the chair that's in front of my tiny desk, and sit across from her, I see Benny slip quietly out the door, instead of hovering awkwardly in the background.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was expelled," Maureen said, once she had taken several long breaths and calmed down a little, "I was expelled for inappropriate behaviour."

"Inappropriate behaviour?" I questioned.

"Yes," Maureen sighed, "My parents are going to kill me, they didn't even want me to go to that theatre school in the first place... and now I've been expelled, all because I punched Melanie Bridges and she ended up with a concussion, it's not my fault she fell off the stage."

"You punched a girl and they fell of the stage?" I struggled to keep a straight face.

"No," Maureen corrected, "I punched a bitch and she fell of the stage, she was teasing this kid who was clearly sick and I just hated her, plus she made fun of vegetarians all the time, saying how vegetarians were all gay because they didn't like meat... that sort of stuff, she had it coming."

"Sounds like it," I said, disgusted at the tale of this girl.

"What are my parents going to say, Mark?" Maureen said again, tears threatening to spill once more, "I mean, I couldn't even go home. Last night I stayed at the train station trying to think of where to go, here was the only place... see at theatre school I didn't really have friends, just boys who wanted to sleep with me... because, well, I'm pretty.... but it wasn't..."

I was scared, she looked like she was going to cry again and I didn't want that. Girls crying equals me, not knowing what to do, so quickly I said, "Listen Maureen, I have an idea, it sounds like you need a vacation, and we, my roommate and I, were headed up to New York City. You should come with us, then... when we get back you can call your parents and let them know what happened and why."

She sniffled then nodded, "Actually, that sounds, pretty good. You sure your roommate won't mind?"

I shook my head, "Benny will be fine with it."

Maureen smiled then, and stood, "Um, where's the washroom? I think I'll clean myself up."

I pointed the tiny washroom out, and watched as Maureen walked away.

I was in the back seat of the car, Maureen insisted on riding shot gun, but that was okay with me. I was excited, we were headed to New York, and for the first time in over a year, I was going to see Roger, my best friend.

"You sure Roger won't mind me coming?" Benny shouted over the highway noise.

"No," I said, "He'll mind Maureen being there more, I mean... he still hasn't forgiven her for their first meeting, though he does seem to tolerate her more now."

"I still can't believe he's not over the bleaching-hair incident," Maureen said, turning to look at me.

"Well, Roger's stubborn like that," I said, grinning at the memories of him, and suddenly it occurred to me, just how much I missed him. "How much longer until we're there?"

I had called Roger and left a message on their machine, stating the date of my arrival. But I wasn't actually sure if anyone would be home. Thankfully, a week before I had confirmed my plans with Benny, Roger had told me that all I had to do was call from the phone booth below the loft and say, "Hey, throw down the keys," and if anyone was home they would come out onto the fire escape and chuck a set of keys at me.

I stood in front of this phone booth now, hands shaking with excitement as fingers pushed the numbers. The machine picked up of course, and names were listed, then, there was a beep, "Hey. Um, Roger, it's me, Mark, or anyone else I guess... well, I'm standing outside, so could you throw down the keys?"

I walked out of the booth and looked above me, from there looked up to the top floor of the building, smiling when I saw a man, I vaguely recognized waving a set of keys. It wasn't Roger, but Collins, and I realized that even though I had only met Collins once before I was glad to see him. Collins, who was a tall African American man, with broad shoulders and a brilliant smile, dropped the keys, and I tried to catch them and failed. I heard the delightful sound of Maureen's laughter as I bent to retrieve the keys from the ground.

I hurriedly raced to the entrance door, Maureen close on my heels as always and Benny trailing slightly behind her. I looked at the many flights of stairs, and started climbing. When I reached the top floor, there was a huge metal sliding door, and a padlock, I unlocked the lock, and then pushed the door open with a little help from Benny.

"Hey, Mark, you've grown boy!" Collins greeted happily, his smile lighting up the sort-of dingy loft, "And multiplied, I thought it was just you coming."

"Oh, right, I hope you don't mind Collins, I brought some friends with me," I said, waving a hand in the general directions of Maureen and Benny, who hovered awkwardly in the background.

"Nah, of course not," Collins said, "The more the merrier."

Maureen, unable to stay silent any longer, skipped to my side, stuck out her hand and said, "Maureen Johnson, actress, or soon-to-be-actress anyway."

"I like this girl," Collins said, same smile still stretched across his face, "Thomas Collins, yes like the drink Tom Collins, get it out of your system, and then just call me Collins – philosopher, and professor at the moment."

I nudged Benny, and he said, "I'm Benny, Mark's roommate... business major."

Collins grinned, "Welcome, one and all, to the place that we, that's Roger and I, affectionately call the loft. Roger's out right now, went to see if he had enough cash to scrape us some alcohol, but he'll be back soon, never seen that boy so excited."

"Roger was excited?" I asked, disbelief colouring my face.

"Yup, he played back your message, and he nearly jumped for joy, started singing about... a car and his guitar, and New York City..."

I grinned, and decided to take a seat on the worn, duct-taped covered couch, "He wrote that before we left Scarsdale."

"So, you'll have embarrassing stories to tell about Roger?" Collins asked, sitting in the armchair near the couch.

"A few." I replied.

Benny sat down in the arm chair across from Collins, and Maureen sat down beside me, causing my heart to race. "I wanna hear these stories." Maureen pouted, "Otherwise, I'll only have one to tease him about."

"I'd like to hear more about Roger," Benny said, "All Mark ever really said was that they were best friends in high school."

"We're still best friends!" I protested.

"How do you know? You haven't seen him in a year." Maureen pointed out.

"Roger's too stubborn to ever change." I explained.

Roger stumbled into the loft because in one hand he clutched a brown paper bag, that clinks as the bottles inside hit each other gently and in the other there was Chinese take out. "I'm broke now!" Roger announced, looking directly at me "Thanks to you."

I stood, as he placed the things on the kitchenette's counter, "Nice to see you to Roger," and we met in the middle and hugged quickly, "How have you been?"

"Pretty good, got together a band, well, they sort of grabbed me into their band, the Well-Hungarians," Roger informed me.

"Really? The Well-Hungarians? That's awful!" I said astounded.

"I think it's hilarious!" Maureen chimed in, she had fallen asleep on the couch about a half-hour before, and Benny and Collins had become engrossed in a conversation I just couldn't follow, so I was startled that Maureen would comment. Roger was startled that she was there.

"What is she doing here?" Roger asked genuinely shocked, "and who the hell is that?" he asked pointing to Benny.

"One question at a time Davis," Collins said wisely, "The boy doesn't know how to answer you," and then to my complete surprise, Collins pulled a joint from the pockets of the long overcoat he wore, and lit up.

Roger rolled his eyes, and looked expectantly at me, "Maureen's here because she got kicked out of school and had nowhere else to go, and that is my roommate Benny, both of who have seemed to hit it off with Collins."

"Collins man," Roger shook his head sadly, "I can't believe you like the over dramatic girl, I always thought you batted for the other team."

Collins offered the joint to both Benny, who shook his head and politely declined and Maureen, who took a drag and then hands it back, like it was nothing. "I do bat for the other team," Collins told us all.

"And we care why?" Maureen voiced my opinion.

Collins looked at her, then laughed a great bellowing laugh, that was so contagious we all joined in, though nothing was really funny about the conversation, especially as we barely knew each other, "So, Roger, we going to get to eat and get drunk anytime soon?" Collins asked.

The food and alcohol was long since gone, and Roger and I were alone, well, not alone but the only two who remained conscious. Collins had been the last one standing, and he had stumbled off to his room about ten minutes ago. Benny had collapsed from exhaustion and alcohol consumption about an hour before, and no one had dared to wake him from his odd position on the arm chair. Maureen had yawned and curled up like a cat half-an hour ago, and now her soft even breathing could be heard.

"So, what do you think of this place, Mark?" Roger asked me, serious for the first time this night.

"I think it's a dump," I snorted, I was light-headed from the amount of alcohol I had consumed.

"It is a dump," Roger agreed.

"Wait, I wasn't done yet." I complained.

"'I think it's a dump' is a complete sentence Marky," Roger said.

"Still not done," I said, and Roger waited this time, "I think it's a dump... but oddly enough it's a comforting feeling, it's a dump that feels an awful lot like home."

Roger looked at me and smirked, "Welcome home, Marky."

A/N: I'd like to take this time to remind you that this is a purely a friendship fic, but that does not mean that we cannot aw at fluffy friendship moments, R&R please.