Pretty Boy Front Man|Roger's Journal

[ROGER DAVIS]

August 5th, 1987

Mom got me a journal for my birthday and I just cracked it open now. She says it'll help me with my thoughts or whatever. She also got me another journal that's mainly for songwriting, etc. She doesn't realise that I write on whatever I find at the time. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I wrote the band's first hit song on the bathroom wall in black sharpie because it just hit me. As for the actual journal, the one that I'm supposed to write thoughts in or whatever, I guess I'll use it more than just now. I mean, I don't know. Mark is really my journal; I just tell him everything that's happening, and he stores it. He usually can bring that shit up at a moment's notice, 'speshally the bad stuff. The band has a gig coming up at CBGB's next week. I'm fuckin' excited, to be honest. The gang's all gonna be there. Even dear Collins, who has graciously taken time out of his busy schedule of fucking his current boy of the week, to come and see me.

I told him that if he didn't come see me play, I'll lace his pot with LSD and try my damnedest to force him into a bad trip. He still said no, so I told him I'd drink all of his Stoli. Jesus, could Mark be any louder? Seriously, like, the Loft echos. He doesn't realise this. He gets pissed when I bring a girl home 'cause he says I fuck too loud. But he does everything loud. Whatever. I broke up with her anyway. I mean, we weren't really dating. Does fucking every couple hours for a week mean dating? I didn't think so. Plus, no one really liked her. I don't even think I liked her. She had a nice ass, though.

Oh well. I like being single, anyway. More options.

Mark's yelling that I drank all the coffee. I didn't drink all the coffee. The girl I was screwing drank all the coffee. Blame her.

Now, the vase that she broke on the wall near my head after she threw it at me when I broke up with her? That you can blame me for.

I need to get laid.

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

August 8th, 1987

Last night's show was completely and utterly awesome. Mark and Maureen showed up, along with Collins and his boy. Benny made it towards the end of the set with his fling of the night. But the best part? The part where I knew the night was completely and utterly sealed? I was singing on stage, and god, they were really going for it. Everyone was just fucking loving me...and then I saw her.

I know that it sounds pathetic, but she smiled and I forgot my words. I forgot the fucking words to my own songs. I think she noticed because her smile got wider. After the show, I found her. It wasn't hard to find, since she has the reddest hair on the planet. I bought her a drink, we sat at the bar and we talked the entire night until the bar closed. She said her name was April and she was from California. She said that she hated California and had come to New York to be on Broadway, but she later found out that she hated getting her picture taken, so she knew that Broadway was going to be a bust. Her parents had given her money for a two week vacation that turned into a permanant stay. She told her parents she was going to school. They're stupid because they don't ask for grades or anything like that. So yeah, we went home, and yeah, we fucked. But it wasn't like before with all the other girls. It was...there was something different about her. I'm not one to say I make love easily, but...I think we did. She fucking cried in my arms.

We're going out to eat tomorrow at the Life when she wakes up. I don't know if it's too early to say, but if this isn't love, I'm sure as fuck that I'm at least smitten.

She says she doesn't like her name April. I call her April Showers, because it rained when we were walking home.

She's waking up. I think morning sex is in my future. And pancakes.

[/size][/left]

[hamlet]

I've been meaning to reply to this but you had this as a diary at first

Well i must say that this is a great read. And omgeeee, April flashbacks! Keep going

[ROGER DAVIS]

December 8th, 1987

So, it's been a while. Most of my time has been spent with April, so I haven't had a chance to write much. I haven't had a chance to do much of anything except her, not that I'm complaining.

It's our 4 month anniversary tomorrow. We're planning on having a blow-out. Mark's already planning a party. I think we're going to go to the Cat Scratch Club, then the Life, and then back home.

Collins says that I act different when April's around. I act happier, more upbeat. I don't know. I just know that, for the first time, I really like having a girlfriend. I like going out and having other people introduce us as RogerandApril and not 'This is Roger and this is April'. Our names blend together so much anymore than people wonder where I end and she begins. I know the sex is incredible and it's one of the main reasons why I'm in this relationship, but...she makes me smile. She makes me laugh when I'm sad. She's got the best smile in the world and her eyes are the most beautiful thing on the planet.

April's just so intense. I mean, when we go at it, we go at it. It doesn't help that we do a couple lines and go for three or four hours in a row. Two days ago I woke up and my muscles ached in places I didn't even know I could ache. She works me over so hard that she wrecks me instead of the other way around. However, she says the cocaine is giving her headaches. She's saying she wants to switch to something that'll calm her down. She told me she felt like she had a heart attack last night. I told her she just did too much blow.

Okay, Benny's yelling to get my ass out. I am going to KILL it in poker tonight, mark my words. I will not be the one naked again. You guys don't know. My poker skills have been on POINT lately. My mission is to get Maureen and April naked. And then get them drunk and ask them to kiss.

Something tells me Maureen wouldn't have a problem with it.

I wonder what April wants for Christmas. Mark and Collins and I have to go shopping for our others soon. It's just too fucking cold outside right now. Thankfully, the stove is working for the moment, but I have a feeling that it wont work forever. I asked April how she liked the cold, and she said she was freezing her tits off and missed California. I told her California had nothing on the snow. It snows on Christmas Morning here, I told her. California doesn't get that shit. She had her first snowball fight in Tompkins Square. I pelted her with snowballs and then we made snow angels on the ground.

Okay, maybe this is a little too sweet for my own good. Benny's still yelling. Someone should tell him to shut the fuck up.

Thank you, Thomas.

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

December 9th, 1987

...okay, so you know what? Fuck you, Benny. I totally fooled your ass into thinking I had like, a royal flush when I had a pair of threes. You folded with three aces on my pair of THREES.

So what if I was the only naked in the end? I don't care. I punked your ass.

AND I got drunk wild sex from my hot girlfriend while you were left sticking your dick into the vaccum cleaner or whatever you do at night.

So there.

Dick.

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

[/size][/color][/center]

I barely remember what happened last night. I actually had to have Mark fill some of it in for me. I remember going to the Life, and then to the Cat Scratch. April and I had already done a few lines in the bathroom of the Life before we left to the Cat Scratch. I'm sure that's why she was so...ready. I mean, I've been to the Cat Scratch many times before and it never fails to turn me on. There's something about the way the girls just glide and grind and are so willing to rub every single part of them up against you...I'm not going to lie. I love it. The last time before last night was Maureen's birthday the year before. I don't know, maybe it was because of the coke. Maybe it was because April kept grinding against me all night to the beat. Maybe it was the way that she whispered in my ear that she'd have a three-way with the young Latina girl that was on the stage 'cause she liked the way she moved and ground her body against the pole. If I wanted a three way, that was...maybe all of that lead up to us walking off to the bathroom.

Now, when the mood strikes, I'm not one to deny nature. Sex is natural. However, I guess the bouncer found it very unnatural that I was balls deep in my girlfriend in a dirty stall of the women's bathroom. I mean, we weren't bringing the bathroom down or anything like that...but I do remember getting kicked out. I mean, come on. We were fucking in a strip club. Why is that illegal? People get turned on in strip clubs, and I'm not about to go walk out of the club with a hard-on. That's just embarrassing. And at least she wasn't giving me a hand-job in the middle of the club where everyone and god could see, right? Or blowing me under the table?

Right? We were fucking discreet, dammit. That was no reason to kick us out.

Now, here's when it stars to get a little fuzzy, 'cause I think I had more drinks on the way home. I remember nearly falling on my face as we stumbled out of the Club, and I remembered dry-humping her and trying to finger her against a brick wall until Maureen screamed at us to hurry up. It was gonna rain, she had yelled. She was too drunk to notice whether or not there were fucking clouds in the sky, for serious. Anyway, somehow, we all got home. I remember Mark and Maureen going off to their room, probably to fuck 'cause Maureen always gets turned on by the Cat Scratch, Collins and his boy-toy going off to theirs, and Benny...well, he didn't didn't follow us home. April and I went off to our room.

You know, sex when your drunk can either be a horrible experience or a really awesome experience. Sex on coke and alcohol? It's an awesome experience. However, April, ever the cleaver, decided to up the stakes a little. Now, I've taken alot of drugs. I'm down with Pot whenever you've got it. I'll do coke if I know I'll want to be up for the next day or so. But she pulled out something that I'd never even thought to try. She said she had got it from a dancer at the Cat Scratch. Best heroin in the city. In my drunk state, I was down for anything.

I remember watching as she cooked it up and I remember asking if she had done it before. She ran her tongue across my lips and told me it was her first time and she asked me if that turned me on. I knew she was a liar because she looked like a pro. I remembered being nervous as she injected the muddy water into the syringe, and I remembered asking her if it would hurt. She lifted the needle, smiled, and licked the needle slowly, her eyes watching me as she did it. God, she knew how to get me hard with just a glance.

I don't really like needles, but she kissed me as she slid the needle in. I can't even describe what heroin feels like and get even close, because it was better than the best blow job. Better than the best pussy in the world. It was like taking a thousand orgasms and combining them, letting them loose at once inside of your head, and then basking in the afterglow. That gets close to what it feels like. It almost felt hard to breath, and yet, with the way I felt, I didn't want to breathe. I could have died and I wouldn't have cared, because fuck...it was so good. The last thing I remember was April collapsing against my chest and telling me that this shit was fucking good. She loved me and she felt so good. I passed out with her mumbling something about how she was going to fuck me if she could feel her fingers ever again. I thought I had found a good thing with April. I thought that April and cocaine was an even better thing. But I know I've found something even better than that.

I'm getting shivers just thinking about it. It's been 8 hours and I want more. I want to shoot up and fuck April until I pass out. I want to hear her groan and pass out against me. I want her to be just as exhausted as I will be. I want to sit in that cloud and float with her forever.

Mark's already knocking on the door wondering when we're coming out for breakfast...or lunch. Brunch. What time is it? I don't fucking care what time it is. April's waking up now.

I am totally down for this again.

[/size][/left][/ul]

[ROGER DAVIS]

[/size][/color][/center]

I can't believe it. I can't believe they filed a fucking missing persons report. I told Mark that we were going out on friday night...I just didn't think we'd be out all weekend, but still, is that any reason to file a police report? C'mon. Give me a fucking break.

You know what? If April and I want to get away for the weekend, we'll go away for the weekend. Mark even had the nerve to ask where the hell we were all weekend. You really want to know, Mark? We were on a 3-day cocaine binge. That's where we were. And see, that's another thing I don't understand. We were at every single club we could think of in Manhattan. All Mark had to do was look. I guess he didn't look hard enough.

He looked surprised when we stumbled walked through the door; and then the verbal ass-whooping began. He's tired of the drugs, he said. We have a problem, he says. You know what? I don't have a problem. I can give up coke whenever I want. I don't see him giving up alcohol any time soon, and it's considered a drug, right? Give up Stoli, Mark, and I'll give up cocaine.

The cocaine made April paranoid, and we spent the last day arguing because she said she saw me kissing another girl. And maybe I was. I don't even know anymore. I will say this; fighting with April always leads to awesome, angry sex. But when Mark got on us for the weekend we were missing, she lost it.

I told her to take a hit and forget about it. So we did.

We don't have a problem, Mark. We're living our lives. Something that you should really learn from. I'm living my life with my girlfriend and nothing is going to change that. Sorry.

[/size][/left][/ul]

[ROGER DAVIS]

December 16th, 1987

April decided to wake me up this morning with a blow-job. Which is awesome. What wasn't awesome was that when everything was finished, she decided to drop the bombshell that she was late.

Being a guy, I didn't know what the fuck she meant. Until she said she was late. 3 weeks late.

I am currently freaking out.

My girlfriend may be pregnant. We just had a weekend that was full of cocaine and heroin and wild sex and she decides NOW to tell me she's three-weeks late?!

We were left screaming at each other. I was screaming that maybe her vagina got fucked up from all the sex we had. She screamed at me that maybe I shouldn't have came in her so many times. If she got pregnant, she screamed, she'd kill me. She'd make sure she never fucked me again. Maureen heard our freak out and is now taking April down to the drugstore to get a pregnancy test.

I can't have a fucking kid right now. We can't have a kid. We barely have money for food and drink and drugs, how the hell are we going to have money for like, dipers and milk and shit like that?!

I can't have a fucking kid. I'm only 22. April's only 19. We can't be parents. I can't have a kid.

Where the FUCK is Maureen? I need to go have a drink. I need to smoke some pot. I need some fucking HEROIN but we don't have money for it. I don't get paid from the bar until tomarrow.

God, I can't have a baby. Please, god. Please don't let her be pregnant. This apartment can't have a baby in it. It's dirty and there's no heat and no hot-water and there's nothing that would make a baby a good idea.

God, I'm never fucking April without a condom again. Ever. Scouts honor. I hear April's voice, she's back. Maureen's back. They've got a test. Go piss already and tell me what the fuck it says!

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

December 17th, 1987

Um...so, when I said that I'm never fucking April without a condom again...well, look, I mean, I sat on the bathroom sink for like, three minutes smoking up a storm while she peed on a stick and then come to find out, she's not pregnant...so we had a party. There was alcohol at this party. Pot was passed around. And like...okay, you know what? NEXT time, mark my words, I will NOT screw April without a condom. No matter how much it may suck.

Did I mention April's not pregnant? I am the luckiest/happiest man on the planet right now. I still gotta figure out what April wants for Christmas. Maybe I can coax it out of her when she's high. She always spills things when she's stoned. April said we're gonna have a celebratory hit of heroin. I think she knows how much I like to screw her on heroin.

Okay. Remember. Condom. I'll steal one from Maureen. Condom, condom, condom.

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

December 20th, 1987

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

December 23th, 1987

I remember bits and peices of what happened. I remember screaming at her that she was a fucking whore and a bitch and I hope she went back to California. Her parents don't know that she's a junkie and she'd be completely and utterly fucked.

She screamed at me that she wanted to go back to California because I'm a stupid fucker who sleeps with anything that moves. I haven't fucked anyone but her and she knows it. But yet, she still pulls up all this shit and mkes me look like the bad guy. I'm not the fucking bad guy, she is. Collins heard us screaming at each other and basically locked us my room and told us to shut the fuck up. Get the fuck over it 'cause we know we love each other. We're just being stupid little bitches about the entire thing.

We're running out of money. Her parents have basically cut her dry after we went through all of their cut in two weeks. I know the guys know. I know they know, and I am so fucking tired of all this right now. I'm fucking tired.

We ignored each other for two days, until I wrote her a note and put it on the bedside table. Then I took a bath. I remember holding my head under water and screaming until I had no more air in my lungs. I held my head under and opened my eyes, listening to the sound of my heartbeat. I think I fell asleep after that because she woke me up by sliding in next to me. The water was still warm, so I don't think I was in there long.

She said she was sorry. The drugs are going to her head and making her say the meanest things. She didn't want to move back to California because she'd miss New York before she could unpack. She'd miss the Loft and she'd miss Maureen and Mark and Collins. She'd even miss Benny.

She'd miss me.

And I'd miss her too.

I told her that we needed to slow down. Take things slower. We need to cut down on the heroin and cocaine and we needed to just...breathe.

The others are starting to wonder. I think Mark already knows about the Heroin, but like everything in the Loft, if it's unpleasant, we try to push it under the rug. We don't like confrontations here.

Yesterday, we spent the entire day in bed, just talking. Finding out what we liked about each other. What made each other tick. We cut down our using to twice a day. April even mentioned going to the clinic for methadone.

It's two days until Christmas. I told April that her Christmas present was the promise that we're gonna get better. Life is gonna be different.

We're gonna live and not argue and fight and not hate each other. We're gonna do more shit with the guys and we're gonna kick smack for good.

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

December 25th, 1987

We all woke up at a decent time this morning. Presents were exchanged, though there wasn't much, given our low flow at the moment. Collins blessed all of us with alcohol. Benny managed to get food from the Moondance and we had a nice feast of turkey and instant potatoes. Mark's mom sent us all sweaters, which was awesome. It's fuckin' cold in the Loft.

Christmas is usually uneventful around here, 'cause we all feel like shit 'cause none of us can really afford anything. Mark screened a peiced together movie that he made. It was cool. April and I had been up all the night before, so she fell asleep halfway through the screening. She's adorable when she sleeps. Anyway, we made a deal with each other, the guys and us, we're gonna save all our energies for New Years. We're gonna blow the roof off of the Loft, just as we always do.

However, since I know no one is going to read this, I guess I can put what I think I can give everyone. Maybe someday, someone will read this. Hell, maybe I'll have kids one day (god forbid) and they'll read this and know how much I love and respect my friends who are more like family than my own.

God, that's pathetic.

To Mark:

My gift to you, if I had the money, would be a little tiny baby Jesus. You are the light to my dark, in a non-gay sorta way. My hetero-lifemate, I guess. You've been through shit with me, and I love you for it. Merry Christmas, you jew.

Maureen:

You sexy, sexy little she-devil. If you don't watch it, I'll fuck you ten ways from sunday. I don't care if you're dating Mark. I would wreck you.

Collins:

You're the best, most craziest motherfucker I've ever met. And you're my chaos twin. To you, I'd give you a magical christmas pot plant. You know, I'd just have a fuckin' unicorn shit in the soil or something, and bam, you have pure gold in pot form. I know he'd shit if I was able to do that.

Benny:

You're a dick, but you know what? You're family, what can I say. Besides, you're funny when you're drunk. Y'gotta just tone down the ego, man. Not everyone wants to fuck Benjamin Coffin the Third. Everyone wants to fuck Roger Davis. The sooner you get that right, the sooner your christmas and holidays after will become filled with happiness and joy.

April:

I don't even know where I can start. You're beautiful. You're funny. You're insane and you make me fucking crazy. You make me want to scream with happiness and bash my head against the wall in anger. I know we've been through bad times, baby, but our good times outweigh the bad. I know that I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, and if I'd gather up the fucking courage, I'd even ask you to marry me.

Yeah, like that's gonna happen. I don't have the fucking balls to ask April to marry me. I don't even know if I want to get married. But I think, if I did...I'd get married to April.

You're beautiful, baby. You're bitchin' in bed and you make me smile and you're the only one who can really get me. You know every single button to push, good or bad, and I love you for it.

I know I'd die without you.

I'm going to go before this gets anymore after-school special-y. Or gay.

I sound like such a girl. Soon I'm going to be painting my toe-nails and braiding my hair.

I guess we're going to the Life later tonight. Can't wait for New Years. Gonna tear this shit UP.

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

January 1st, 1988

I'm not EXACTLY sure as to what all happened last night, because most of it is a blur...but I think I fucked Maureen last night.

My head is pounding. I think I drank enough alcohol for a small army. I've already thrown up more than I can count. I need to go sleep. April's still passed out. I checked her breathing so I know she's not dead. Just still really drunk.

I don't think Mark knows. I know April doesn't know. I know if they found out, I'm totally fucked.

...God, I think I fucked. Maureen. last night.

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

January 1st, 1988

Okay, so...upon further reflection (and alot of sobering up) I've come to the realisation that I did, in fact, cheat on my girlfriend last night.

With my best friend's girlfriend.

So this is what I remember, okay? I remember coming up the stairs, completely and utterly shitfaced. April was worse off; she nearly passed out on the stairs and fell down. She could have broken her ass. I remember carrying her in and laying her on the couch. Collins was next to her, almost ready to pass out, too. Mark managed to find the green armchair and pass out. I remember telling April tht I had to pee, but I don't think she was awake, so it's not like she heard me.

Here's where things sorta...get weird. I remember peeing (actually, I remember almost falling and busting my head on the top of the toliet, but whatever. I pissed. Yay me.) and then nearly tripping over April's shoes. She likes to leave her shoes out, possibly as a booby-trap in case she wants to kill me at some point. I mean, it's not like I'm worth much, so killing me wouldn't really do her any good.

I'm getting off track.

So I fell on the bed. And of course, I'm drunk off my ass, so I'm laughing. My head is pounding, but I'm laughing.

Then, I saw her in the doorway. She was wearing one of my old CBGB shirts (I knew she had taken it and she probably knew that it turned me on) and nothing else. I managed to get up from the bed, but I stumbled towards the wall. She just happened to place herself between me and the wall. I remember there was little resistance, because she was right there and totally ready.

I remember bits and peices after that. I remember how she felt. I can still taste her on my tongue, feel her on my fingertips. I remember digging my fingers into every inch of her, and I remember how she shuttered against my ear, because she was trying not to scream. I remember the pillow muffled the sounds of my own screams. I don't know how long we went at it, whether it was 30 minutes or 30 hours, but at some point, we both passed out. I woke up and she was gone. I found her underwear between the headboard and the mattress.

I think she left it there on purpose.

She tasted like stolen fruit, but the worst part was, it wasn't from some random garden, it was from my best friend's.

April's out with Collins and Mark getting post-new year food. I went into Mark's room earlier. Maureen was sleeping. I woke her up and asked her if we fucked. She sorta looked confused, and then it all started to come back to her.

Yeah, she said. We did.

I reminded her that she was my girlfriend's best friend, and my best friend's girlfriend.

She told me everyone has secrets and I didn't really put up a fight last night. Besides, we should keep what we did a secret, because not even Mark did that shit to her.

Of course I didn't put up a fight. Have you seen Maureen? Her ass is amazing. Her legs don't fucking stop. I told her I was drunk and she had amazing tits and an bitchin' ass, and how could I say no? Wait, I asked with a slight frown that slowly turned into smile. Mark doesn't do that shit?

She merely smiled at me, that little smile that got both of us in deep shit to begin with. I have no class, that's why. I have no morals. I'm fucking scum of a human being...but fuck me, it was so fucking good. I think the alcohol was still in our bloodstreams, 'cause soon we were a sea of arms and legs and sheets but Benny knocked on the door, telling me that April had left her bra in the living room and he had sat on it and now it's sorta...bent. Benny bent the bra. Ha-Ha! Was that bad?

We promised never to talk about it again. Like it never happened, we told each other. We push it under the rug and nothing will ever come of it ever again.

But we told each other that if we ever wanted to ever again...we'd both be willing. We'd have to be really drunk, but we'd totally both be willing.

Do I feel bad? Yes. I guess I do. I'm still with April. I'll be with April until I die. And Maureen will be with Mark until he twitches too much and pops a blood vessel in his head and keels over or something. But there's something about Maureen and I. I don't know what it is. Maybe we're both evil wicked little children who don't know right from wrong. Maybe we're both sex addicts. Who knows.

All I know is that it was awesome and I also feel like shit.

April's home. Time to give her make-up sex for shit she'll never know I did.

Would it be wrong to ask for a threeway? They are best friends and all...

[/size][/left]

[ROGER DAVIS]

May 21st, 1988

I haven't written in a while. I knoew it's getting worse, even though we've both said we're going to stop. Mark actually brought it up last night while we were sitting talking at like two in the morning. He said he was worried about me. About April. He wanted me to quit. He wanted April to quit. We're so much better without the drugs.

I tried to play it off. Tried to tell him that we weren't using as much, but he knew we were. We slept more. We fought more. My memory's going, he says. Sometimes I don't remember fighting with April, even though it was only just last night. I'm 22, he told me, yet I'm acting like an old man with my memory and everything.

Please, he asked me. Please, just think about it.

I'm thinking about it all the time, Mark. You don't even know. I can't do it because...because I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified.

I don't think I can do it...because I don't remember who I was before this. Tht guy's a distant memory and that scares me. I know my memory is going. I know I'm killing myself. But I Can't. Stop.. Every time I even think about quitting, I get shivers. I break out in a sweat. It literally scares me to think about quitting.

Besides, I know April doesn't want to quit. She loves the rush and she loves the feeling and...I know she won't do it. Not even for me.

That's what it's turned into. We're fighting over hits. We love each other, sure. But we fight over who gets the last hit of Heroin. Our love for the drug overcomes our love for each other and it's fucking disgusting.

I'm disgusting.

But I can't stop.

[/size][/left]