Hey, everyone...I know, I know. It's been, what, 28 days, since I last posted? Sorry, I've been quite busy. Family emergencies, and I was in a play. If you live around Lakeshore, you might have heard about it. The Magic Wishbone. Yes, based off of Charles Dickens' short story.
ANYWAYS. Last weekend was our opening and closing, so that's over. However, on the second I will be going to South Dakota to be on the baking crew for the family reunion happening then. And apparently, my family is a bunch of hermits (though awesome ones), but I will be without interweb for 13 looooong days. However, I'm going to try and get one more chapter up before I leave. It'll probably (hopefully) go up tomorrow.
While I'm in SD, though, I'll have plenty of time to write. If you want to know what's on my agenda to write while I'm there so I can post it when I get back, check out the bottom of my profile.
Other announcements? Uh....Oh! Rachel (Yes, my Rachel, get away *hisses and spits*) Co-wrote a La Vie Boheme Parody, Harry Potter style (La Vie Phoenix). I have it under La Vie Boheme Parodies (Creative name, right?) and I would be forever indebted to anyone who comments. Even if it's negative.

Anyways, on with the writing.

Roger's POV

I kept pacing after everybody left. Alcohol and caffeine was not a good combination. I was drunk, jittery, and angrily thinking through what Lucas might be trying to do to Fae at that very moment. I still couldn't believe they had been kissing on the landing. If you could call it kissing. It looked like he had been trying to eat her face...or....or....getting ready to rape her or something. "I don't like him."

"Roger," Mark said, a tired patience in his tone, "You've said that every ten minutes since we caught them kissing. Five hours ago."

"Well, I don't!" I snapped. He raised his camera from the couch.

"Zoom in on Roger, over-reacting par usual." Lowering his camera, and patting the couch beside him, he continued as if he were soothing a large animal, "You know, this probably wasn't Fae's first date," Then he chuckled. "Rewind to the first time you talked to her..."

"She startled me!" I said, defensively, as I sat down, practically vibrating with agitation.

"She shut you up."

"She was loud, it was weird, I was startled, and I had to think!"

"You said she was 'scary'."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

Amid our mature argumental 'did's and 'didn't's to which it slowly progressed, Mark's lips became suddenly irresistible. I pounced, my lips landing slightly above and to the left of his. Did I meantion I was drunk and hyper? Mark, however, did not let me correct my aiming. "Roger..." He said warningly, pushing me away.

"Does this still make you nervous?" I cried, annoyed. "How long have we been out of the closet? What's one fucking kiss when we're alone?"

"It's never just a kiss with you, Roger. Especially when we're alone. What if Fae brings Lucas back and walk in on us?"

I pouted, and crawled closer. "Please?"

"No."

"Please?" I pawed at the knee of his jeans.

"No."

"Pwetty, pwetty, pwetty pwease?" I was above Mark now, looking down at him. "With me on top?"

"No, Roger."

"You're no fun," I fell back onto the other arm of the couch, and pouted.

"Since when are you Maureen?" Mark asked, rolling his eyes.

"Since I found out you always gave in to her pouts."

"It's not working."

"Mark, just a kiss, damn it!" I pounded my fists on the couch and glared at him. He sighed.

"Fine, just a--" I jumped into his lap, my lips crushing against his. Mark groaned underneath me. "Fuck Roger. You're heavy."

"Are you calling me fat?" I asked, pulling away, and staring at him in horror. "I mean, I know I've gained a few--" Mark pushed himself up and kissed me lightly. I hungrily kissed hum back. Everything was forgotten as I moved my legs, straddling him, never breaking the kiss. In this position, we could fed each other's excitement. I couldn't help it, I rubbed against him, stars exploding in front of my eyes. Sucking on his bottom lip, I started ti slide his shirt up.

"There's nothing to see here!" Mark pushed me away, and I landed on my back, staring towards the doorway where Fae stood glaring at us...Well, more Mark. I grinned. Lucas seemed to be in hysterics behind her. I couldn't have planned a better end to Fae's date. The door slammed, and I looked over at Mark. He had that oh-so guilty expression on his face.

"She's going to be pissed." He said.

"Uh...So?" Mark looked at me in disgust.

"Fae's date is going to be..." He trailed off as Fae came back in the door, slamming it behind her. She glared at us both, then stomped to the bedroom where the twins were sleeping. "Fae..." Mark said, stepping forward.

"What?" She froze but didn't turn around. "What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"Sorry...?" He mumbled. Fae whipped around.

"Sorry? Sorry? Do you think sorry makes up for this? And what about not coming back to Scarsdale for years? How about those letters M--Cindy sent? Did she ever mention how, every Friday, the twins and I spent the night with your mom? How each week we watched her dementia get worse? Are you sorry for those things too?" Her eyes glinted with wetness, but she didn't let them spill over. "Even you dad wanted you to come back. Your dad! You know, the one diagnosed with cancer? And even then, he had to deal with grandma!" She paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What about my dad? Did you even care when they died? Will you care when your parents die?"

For a moment, we all stood there, staring at each other. Then Fae stalked off to the fire escape, closing the exit behind her. Mark continued to stare at the spot where she had just been standing. "I'll go talk to her. She didn't mean it." I said, touching his shoulder lightly. He made no move to show he had heard or understood what I had said, so I moved away.

I slipped out onto the fire escape. "Fae--"

"Please. Just go." Her voice was even, but she didn't turn towards me.

"I just wa--"

"Roger, I don't want to talk about it." Her voice came out shriller, and she moved slightly, just enough that I could make out the tears running down her cheek. I knew that she wasn't going to let me talk to her, so I retreated back to the living room.

Mark had gone into our bedroom. I wasn't sure I could handle that right then, so I sat down on the couch, my head in my hands.

Once again, I was caught between two people I cared about.