Friday, 6.00 pm.

Mark stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his crisp, black Armani suit and his dark blue tie. He studied his reflection carefully. His hair was carefully brushed and his face was clean shaven. He sprayed some Yves Saint Laurent onto his wrists and ensured that his gold cufflinks were clipped on properly. Collins often teased him that he spent more time preening himself than most women, but then he needed to look his best. This was an opera he was going to.

"Hey, Cinderella. You done in there??" yelled Collins from the living room.

Mark grinned. "Yes Collins, I am," he yelled back.

"Better hurry up or you'll miss the ball," he yelled again. Mark chucked to himself and walked into the living room, where Collins sat on the couch watching a Reagan documentary on the TV. "So, is Alistair actually gonna show up this time?"

"Yes he will. He promised me," Mark insisted.

Collins shrugged. "Well, have fun. Don't stay out too late."

"Yes, mother," said the young doctor with a grin. He put the tickets in his pocket, took his keys and walked out of the loft and down the stairs. He hailed a cab, which took him to the opera house. After paying the driver, he got out of the cab, walked into the foyer and sat himself down on one of the plush, velvety purple couches. He glanced at his watch. Another ten minutes until Alistair gets here, he thought. So he just sat and read some of the theatre's brochures while he waited.

About 30 minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Alistair. Mark glanced at his watch, which read 6.50, and tapped his foot impatiently. He tried calling his boyfriend's number for the third time and still received his answering service. Frustrated, he got up and started pacing the foyer back and forth. Finally, his phone rang.

"Hello, this is Dr. Cohen," he said.

"Hey Mark? It's Alistair," said the voice on the other line.

Mark's voice tightened with excitement. "Hey baby. I though you'd forgotten. You are coming, right? Are you running late?"

Alistair hesitated before he spoke. "Umm, look Mark. I, uh………. I can't make it today. One of the guys at work got sick and now I have to do all his work and they need it from my by Monday. I'm sorry, babe."

Mark bit his lip. "But I bought tickets for us," he mumbled.

Alistair sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mark. I guess I should've called sooner. Take Collins with you. I'm sure he'd enjoy the show."

"Yeah, I suppose I could," said the young doctor dejectedly.

"Sorry about this, Mark. I gotta go now. I'll call you later, ok?"

"Ok, babe. Love you. Bye." And with that, Mark hung up the phone and sighed heavily as he gazed at all the other people in the foyer dressed in lovely evening clothes, talking and laughing with their dates for the night. Alistair did this all the time. He'd say that he'd be there, but then at the last minute he'd call and cancel. But Mark trusted him tonight. His lip trembled as he tried to fight back tears. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the theatre and onto the main street. He walked and walked, his head hanging low, until he felt someone bump into him and knock him to the ground.

"OOOOFF!!" said Mark and he fell onto the sidewalk. "Watch where you're going!!" he huffed.

"Hey sorry man, I didn't mean to – Hey Doc!!"

Mark looked up at the man who stood in front of him. "Roger!! What are you doing here?"

Roger grinned. "Oh, I just finished my bartending shift and was on my way home." He grabbed Mark's arm and help him up to his feet. "Say, got a big date tonight?" he asked, gesturing to the suit.

Mark blushed as he straightened his jacket and tie. "Thank you. I had a date tonight, but not anymore. My boyfriend cancelled because he had lots of work to do." He chewed his lip sadly as he pulled the tickets out of his pocket to show Roger.

Roger huffed. "Man, what a bummer. Sorry 'bout that." He studied the tickets closely. "La Boheme, eh? I've heard about this show. So, you on your way home now?" he asked Mark.

Mark blinked nervously. "Uh well, I dunno. I just don't wanna waste those tickets because I bought them for us." He looked at Roger. "You wouldn't wanna come with me, would you? I never thought of you as an opera person," he asked hesitantly.

"Well no, I'm not, but what the hell? I just don't wanna see you spend the evening alone. Sure, I'll come with you. Do I look okay for an opera though? I just changed outta my bar clothes," he said.

Mark looked up and down at his green shirt, black corduroy pants and black jacket. "Yeah, I think you look fine," he remarked. "Okay, let's go. The show starts in 20 minutes."

"Sure thing, Doc," said Roger. The two of them walked quickly back to the theatre, where the people were getting ready to be ushered to their seats. Mark and Roger checked in their tickets and proceeded down the aisles where a crowd of people tried to find their seats on the same row. While they waited, Roger turned to Mark and whispered:

"Oh by the way, you look really awesome tonight."

Mark blushed furiously, his jaw quivering as he struggled to find words. "Oh, uh…….thank you, Roger. You……you look really great too." And he really did. Roger smiled warmly at him as the two of them finally found their seats. The rock star and the doctor sat down, and the lights slowly dimmed to indicate the beginning of the show. Mark quickly stole a glance at Roger, who was watching the orchestra tuning up, his face and neck suddenly getting warm. Mark suddenly thought to himself: why do I suddenly get the feeling that this might actually be a good evening?

Oh my. Funny how fate works, isn't it?? Read and review please!!!