Above These Indifferent Stars |(FINISHED!)

[renthead]

Mark looked at the younger man, if he wasn't still just a boy, and considered asking. He decided against it. What happened to the boy when he was thirteen was his business. But it was tempting. Mark was known for wanting to know about everyone he met. He loved knowing people's stories, loved knowing why people were the way they were. So, he went against his better judgement, and asked. "What happened? You don't have to tell me of course, I'm just being nosy." but he did want to know.

He listened as Curtis gave a monologue about how he wished he could go back in time, and live in one moment forever. Mark knew exactly what he meant, had felt the exact same thing. Several times. "I know what you mean. " was all he said, but he did keep thinking about it. If he could stop at any point, what point would he choose? He could go back to Scarsdale, where even though he had been an outcast he had Roger and money and food and a house and family... where he had been ultimately happy... or he could go forward.

There were the times when he had Maureen, and although he knew about Roger and April's drug use, he had let it slide. Before they had gone just one step too far, and when they were all mostly happy. Yes, he could go there. Or, he could go to the day when Mimi survived. When she came back, and even though he was alone everyone else was happy. Or all the way back before Roger even knew April. Yes, he decided, if he had to choose, he would choose then. When it had been him, Collins, Benny, Maureen, and Roger. No April, no Mimi, not even Angel. Because in the end, although Angel was an amazing human being, and even though Mark loved her and she lit up Collins' life, Angel would just bring sadness to the group.

Mark got so caught up in thinking about where he would go back too, he only snapped out of it when the boy started talking again. Well, whaddya know. It seemed like this boy had met Roger Davis. Was there anyone in the damn city Roger didn't know? He cleared his throat and nodded.

"Um, I think that's him. April... yeah, he's sick. What a coincidence. You say he got you out of trouble with the cops? Wow." Mark was shocked. Roger helping a random kid made him smile. He knew there was a reason he loved his best friend. "Yeah, that's Roger." he decided. He would have to ask his friend about it, the next time he saw him. Which would hopefully be soon. Mark had decided that he was going to spend more time around his friends, once he got a job. Then he'd have the money to go to places like the Life. Like Roger said, he could always just screw the rent. Benny was a douche bag anyways. He didn't need the money, but Mark did.

"He's sick..." Mark said this to himself. God, stupid Roger. Mark hated thinking about Roger's illness. It depressed him. Today was just not his day.

[eastsidesunset]

Honestly, I didn't really want to explain about my parents to yet another stranger who would almost certainly feel like they needed to apologize, like everyone did. Some people were solemn about it, some were awkward, others practically gushed their apologies, but nobody was ever genuine. This guy was obviously prone to saying sorry for no reason, and I was more than a little reluctant to tell him, knowing the clichéd words the story would end in.

I knew I'd kinda asked for it, though. Anyone would be curious. Heck, I would be, too. So I wandered over to an edge of one of the wide, wooden docks littered with candy wrappers and cigarette butts and crouched there, looking at the distant neon city lights and began quietly, almost as if I were talking to myself. "Want the short version or the long version? Short version's pretty simple. Basically, my parents died in a car accident on Christmas Eve when I was thirteen and left my oldest brother with a ton of responsibilities he wasn't really ready to deal with. He managed somehow, though, to keep us together. The long version's kinda complicated."

I sighed, then added, "Don't say you're sorry. Unless you knew them somehow, you're not really sorry." Even as I finished, I didn't look back at him and tried not to care what he was thinking. It was funny how tired I was all of a sudden. As if the brief story was physically draining to tell. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to picture my parents against the black background but not quite succeeding. Like it or not, I knew they were fading, slowly but surely.

Mark was talking about how the Roger he knew was the same Roger I met, and I almost smiled at the nice coincidence. Mark and Roger seemed to have at least one thing in common-- Not liking to mind their own business. In Roger's case, though, that characteristic saved me from a lot of trouble, and I was as grateful as you could be. So I guess I didn't really mind Mark doing the same.

"Yeah, he mentioned he was sick. AIDS, wasn't it?" I said quietly, then fell silent. What could I say? 'I hope he gets well soon'? I mean, it wasn't exactly the cold that Roger was sick with. I shook my head, wondering why life always gave some people the raw end of the deal while others were lucky without even trying. Just another question I'd never figure out.

(I tried. DX *is half brain-dead*)

[renthead]

Mark listened to the boy tell about his parents, and nodded slowly. It was horrible to think about. People were dying every God damn day for no reason. Yet, he was still alive. How, he pondered, did that make any sense. He was sure the boy's parents had been good people, and he and his brother, or brothers or sisters, didn't deserve to lose their parents. Mark thought to his own family, which he oh so casually ignored. He knew that he shouldn't take the fact that they were his family for granted, but when you have spent your whole life believing you aren't good enough for a group of people, you don't tend to want to spend even more time around them. It just makes you feel lousy.

"See, I don't get that. Why everyone says they're sorry when someone dies. Yes, it's horrible. But unless they murdered them... well... I guess I'm not really one to talk, am I?" he asked, pondering the question. When Roger died, he had no doubt people would tell him they were sorry. And then move on with their life. When Collins, Angel, Mimi... when they all passed, everyone would mutter that they were sorry, maybe not even to Mark himself because he was just always there, but then they would just move on. Maybe not forget, but at least try not to think about it. Mark thought back to April. He hadn't told Roger he was sorry. Maybe he should have. But he'd had to much to deal with. He hadn't spoken to anyone about April's death, except Roger of course, and never to express any apologies. She had died a selfish death, and there was no reason to be sorry. Accidents happened, and then you moved on. Unless it hit you hard. Then you didn't move on. Then you mourned, and cried until you thought you might as well just die too. Like Roger, after. Well, of course, that wasn't always the case. But if it was, someone you barely knew saying Sorry wasn't going to help much. Honestly, he'd never thought about that until this fifteen year old boy had stated that he wasn't really sorry that two people he'd never met had died. And honestly, he wasn't.

Mark shook his head, and smiled ruefully.

"Roger's a friend whore. I should have known." he wondered if he should have said the word whore in front of the boy. Then again, just a guess, but Mark figured he'd heard much worse. So, he didn't bother with correcting himself. He was fifteen, after all. Fifteen year olds did a whole lot worse then cursing. Yes, he was paranoid, but he decided to drop the no cussing rule. Not that he was usually that prone to it anyway.

"Yeah... AIDS." he muttered. Roger was screwed. That was true. And he knew the boy wouldn't say "I'm sorry." He smiled again at the thought.

Love heals when pain's too much to bear, when you reach out your hand, and only the wind is there. When lifes unfair, when things like us are not meant to be.

(sorry about the last little lyrics thing. they just fit the post, and they came on while writing. it's mark's part in the song, so i figure it works.)

[eastsidesunset]

"See, I don't get that. Why everyone says they're sorry when someone dies. Yes, it's horrible. But unless they murdered them... well... I guess I'm not really one to talk, am I?"

"I dunno," I muttered, "Can we just not talk about this any more?" My parents' death wasn't exactly a topic I loved to dwell on. Memories could be suffocating. It was hard, constantly walking the thin line between forgetting and being overwhelmed with remembering. It seemed like years and years ago that an accidental glance at a photograph would bring on an unstoppable tide of emotions and I'd have to fight tears again and again but it was only maybe half a year. Time sure worked in weird ways.

At his comment about Roger being a "friend whore", I just shrugged. "Never hurts to have too many friends 'round here. Of course, to me, a few buddies you know will always have your back is better than a huge crowd of people you barely know any day. Guess it depends on the person though."

There really was a difference. Pretty big one, too. I mean, I had school friends but I couldn't really talk to any of them about much more than what was for homework and whatever test or quiz was coming up. Either that or I'd pretend to listen while someone complained about a naggy ex-girlfriend or an annoying teacher. I think none of them really knew I didn't care-- I was kinda good at pretending. Something I can't say I'm proud of. But everything they babbled about was stuff I'd forget about the moment they left.

So I was almost always real quiet at school. Honestly, I couldn't imagine having to trust dozens and dozens of people at the same time. The only times I ever really opened up was around Soda or Johnny. Not even the rest of the gang. But I knew some people could manage a ton of friends and did manage. I didn't understand it, but then, there were a lot of things I didn't understand.

"Wish I could do something..." I said regretfully, shaking my head. "I guess I'm an idiot for thinking this but I wish there would be some big miracle cure and no one'd have to worry about AIDS or cancer or anything ever again."

[renthead]

Mark winced. Right, that had to be a sore subject. He imagined how he would feel if his parents had died, but he was an adult. Technically. He wasn't reliant on them anymore, no matter how much his mother denied this, and... well, he and his parents had never exactly been that close anyway. Yes, he would be sad if his mother or father died. He was not cold hearted, and he did love them in his own way. Just... it wasn't an up close and personal way. He thought about it, and realized that his parents dying should probably be a fear in his mind. They weren't necessarily the youngest out there anymore. They were getting up in age, grandparents even. He just had never really thought about it. His friends were the more immediate concern, and he figured that probably wasn't the way it should be. But to him, friendship was thicker then blood. You couldn't choose your family, but your friends chose you. That had to mean something, right?

"Sorry. Moving on then." he stated, smiling. He thought about the friend comment. Although Roger did know a lot of people, Mark wondered if they could be considered friends. No, it wasn't a jealousy thing. He knew that, although it was quite an arrogant statement, that he would always be Roger's best friend. He also knew that no one Roger met now could take the place of one of their group. Their group just... meshed. They would always be friends. It was hard to imagine not being friends with the core cluster. Yes, Benny and April had faded away, but Angel and Joanne had jumped in just as quick to take their spots. "I agree with you. I have this group of friends and... well, they've become basically my family. I wouldn't trade them for all the friends in the world." and he wouldn't either.

He thought about each of his friends. Roger, who had just always been there for him. Who was more like a brother then a friend. Who he was terrified of losing, but since that night in the loft, had been trying to get over it. Collins, who always tried to include him in everything he was doing. It was nice, knowing that he did care whether Mark was alone or not, but also it could be slightly annoying. Like he was a charity case. But Collins was always willing to share his weed, and had gotten a lot more fun to be around since he and Angel had gotten together. Speaking of Angel, he was so glad he knew him. Her. Whichever one. He was never quite sure what pronoun should be used to describe that mother hen of the group. He/She was always trying to cheer everyone up, and had given Mark money the day he'd met him/her. That showed true selflessness. Mark could have been a drug addict, and could have used to money for heroin. Angel had no idea. That's why Mark loved him/her. Speaking of love, he thought of Maureen. He figured he was slowly getting over her. Seeing her so happy, well most of the time, with Joanne made him happy. And it wasn't as if he'd thought they'd be together forever. He had never thought Maureen would be with anyone forever. Maybe Joanne would prove him wrong. Ah, Joanne. She was probably his least likely friend. After stealing his girlfriend, most people would think Mark would hate her. And at first, he kind of did. But she had grown on him, someone who actually understood everything Maureen had put him through. And she was logical, unlike most of his friends. It was nice having someone around who didn't think blow torching doors was a good idea. He thought about Benny then. He kind of missed the man. They had been good friends in their time, but money had turned him into a jerk. Or maybe he'd always been one, but hadn't shown it. And April. Poor, April. Or not poor April, depending on the way you looked at it...

"You're not an idiot. I think most people wish they could do that. I know I do. I want to change the world anyway I can. And I'm not smart, I'm not even close to being a scientist. So, my chances of coming up with a cure are low. But I'm hoping that I can help anyway..." he muttered, thinking about his films. He wanted the world to see what it was like, to be one of the people infected, or to be in love or friends or family to someone sick. He wanted the world to realize it sucked. And even though he couldn't do much, he hoped Today 4 U put that across.

[eastsidesunset]

When he talked about having a group of friends he wouldn't trade for anything, I looked at him more closely. Maybe we were more similar than I thought. "Yeah, me too. Sometimes I forget I only have two brothers, my buddies are around so much. They're not family, but they might as well be." Darry didn't give his food to just anybody.

I smiled at the thought. With all his budget cutting, he still let the guys take whatever they wanted. Especially Johnny. Darry always had the most trouble with trying to get Johnny to eat our food. I kinda admired that about him, though-- he had a real strong sense of right and wrong, and would rather go hungry than take something from someone else. None of us liked sympathy, Johnny most of all. Even though he was the one who was the worst off out of all of us.

I turned my attention back to Mark, who was looking lost in his thoughts. I stayed quiet, wondering what he was thinking about. Probably the friends he'd mentioned. It was kinda funny how people could get so attached to people they'd never known, at least at one point. But humans just didn't make sense sometimes. Most of the time.

"You don't have to be a scientist to help. Like that movie. "The Cure". The kid died at the end and they never did find the cure but that doesn't mean his friend didn't help." I was quiet for a moment then continued, "Maybe it doesn't matter how long you live. Maybe it's the quality that counts." I didn't know if I was making sense or not-- I probably wasn't-- but it was kinda dark even with the lights around the pier and I never made much sense when it was dark. I dunno why.

[renthead]

Mark looked at him and smiled. He nodded, knowing exactly how the boy felt. With the amount of times Maureen or Collins or Roger had just waltzed in and taken his coffee, food, pens... whatever they could find, it was like they were all family. Either that, or Mark was just really foolish when it came to letting thieves get away with his stuff. He liked the family explanation better. "I understand exactly." he said with a smile. Mark thought about why he let people get away with stealing his stuff, and decided one day he was just going to walk into one of their apartments and take their things. He nodded, satisfied with himself for making the game plan.

When the boy mentioned a movie, Mark tilted his head to the side. He'd never seen it, but now the ending was ruined. He doubted he'd ever seen it, now. Not that it really mattered or anything. Just a thought that popped into his head. "You know, you'd get along really well with my friends... well if you were a little older. That's basically what they say. They basically all have adopted this saying... No day but today." he stated, smiling at the thought of Mimi saying that to them all. Or Angel playing the drums and saying "Today 4 U, Tomorrow For Me." They really were good sayings.

"And I have this one friend... He's probably the most generous person... I mean, the first time he met me and Roger he gave us money, just because my other friend told him we needed some. He didn't know anything about us, and he had to work to get that money. But his motto is 'Today for you, tomorrow for me' and he really believes that." Mark stated, smiling again softly. "And he may be sick, but he lives the best life I can imagine."

Realizing he was probably boring the kid with his talks about Angel and Mimi, he went back to silence, but he was smiling now. If nothing else could be said, Mark loved his friends.

[eastsidesunset]

As Mark went on about his friends, I picked up a large, smooth pebble from the ground and skipped it over the glassy surface of the water. It bounced once, twice, three times before it sank, leaving circular ripples in its wake that faded real slowly. Repercussions. Every decision had them, for the good or the bad. I wondered glumly when the ripples left by the double death of my parents would ever fade. Maybe they never would. Would be just my luck if they never did.

I was still watching the water, probably looking like I wasn't paying attention to Mark's words, but I was. For the most part, anyway. I thought about his sayings, one by one. 'No day but today'. It sounded like something Two-Bit would say in his own wisecracking way. Not these words exactly, but something that came down to the same idea. Live like it's your last day. Don't worry about tomorrow. Make the most of what you've got. Stuff like that. It was good thoughts to live by. I knew that much. Optimism gave you hope. And nobody could live without hope. It's the last thing to go, but when it does, you're screwed.

'Today for you, tomorrow for me' was a tougher one to figure out. But I thought I understood the idea. Like the golden rule, but not as stiff. Loyalty and sticking with your friends and helping them when they need help while knowing they'd do the same tomorrow. But I got the feeling that that wasn't quite it. I didn't have time to think about it further, though. So I muttered the saying under my breath a few times, wanting to memorise it. Maybe Johnny'd see more into it. He was real good with this kinda stuff, something not a lot of people saw.

I realized the guy was quiet again, and I knew I should probably say something quickly. Just to be polite. But what could I say? 'Nice weather today'? It was getting to be so dark you could barely see the weather. Plus a slight chill was setting in, and I folded my arms across my chest.

"That's nice," I ended up saying, lame as anything. I wasn't great at keeping a conversation, that was for sure. I laughed at myself, and told him a bit sheepishly, "Sorry, that wasn't too great of a response, was it? There's a reason I don't talk a lot, I guess."

[renthead]

Mark shook his head, a smile still on his face. He understood how it was, not really knowing what to say. Actually, I couldn't remember having a conversation with anyone who wasn't my family or my group of friends in... well hell... a while. That couldn't be healthy. Maybe that was why he was spilling his guts to a fifteen year old boy on the street. Maybe he should consider therapy... or a pet...

"I understand. I don't usually talk... like Roger said... I'd prefer to hide behind my camera." he stated, shrugging calmly. Speaking about his camera... he looked down at his hands. They weren't shaking. That had to be a good thing, right? He moved his glasses back up his nose, and looked at his watch.

Oh. Life Support would be starting right about now. He wondered if Roger would be bothered to show up. Mimi. Collins. Angel...

He had grown to like the people at Life Support. Seeing them fade away... well, it was enough to make him stop going to every meeting. He had a feeling his friends felt the same way. And getting all that on camera... while it was so good for things like his videos.... it was not good for HIM really.

"I need to get out more."

[eastsidesunset]

Hiding behind a camera... that sounded familiar. I guess it was human nature to hide behind something every once in a while. I had my books, Soda had his smile, Two-Bit had his laugh, Johnny his silence, Darry his strength, Steve his sarcasm, and Dally his tough shell. We all had our hair grease and our labels as greasers. It was hard, sometimes, not to sink into that title. Sometimes it was too easy to forget why it was even important in any way to try and be yourself.

To be yourself. I nearly laughed out loud. Even in a world where the phrase was overused to the point of being cliche, I doubted very many people could really convince themselves to do so. I mean, I'd seen a few people in my school who'd really managed it, only to be called a freak or a loner. Me? I hadn't "been myself" in school or on the streets for ages. It was funny how idealized the thing had gotten.

He glanced at his watch, and I wondered if he had to be somewhere. Most people did have lives- some were too polite to say so. I smiled a half-smile, and said, "You know you can go anytime, right? It's getting kinda late anyway. Don't lemme keep you from anything."

A lone dog barked a few streets down, the sound echoing around and making the busy city sound for a split second like one of those old villages in the movies where everyone knew everyone. "I should probably get going too..." I said distractedly.

[renthead]

Mark looked at the boy, tipping his head slightly to the side. He nodded, and then sighed. Yes, it was time to wander around until he got home. Maybe Roger would be back for some reason, like Mimi had to work or... maybe Maureen or Joanne would show up... he really was in the mood for company.

"Well, Curtis... It was nice meeting you. I think I'll tell Roger about how I ran into you." he said, nodding slowly again. Maybe he'd re-watch some old clips. Maybe even back to his teenage days... or when Rog had April and everyone was happy....

"It was nice meeting you. Try and make it home before you fall asleep..." he said, smiling and re-wrapping his scarf around his neck, and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Goodbye."

[eastsidesunset]

"Was nice meeting you too," I said, grinning. "And I'll try not to." As he got up to walk away, I said a quick goodbye and rubbed my hands together. It was really starting to get cold. I stood up, stretched a little, and took one last look at the water still dimly sparkling from the lights of the city that never slept before starting to walk towards the bus station.

And as I walked, I thought. Because compared to Roger, compared to Johnny or Joan or even Mark, I was damn lucky. It was too easy to forget that sometimes. Too easy to wallow in a pool of your own self-pity, blind to the problems of the rest of the world. In Mark's eyes, I'd seen a kind of fear that I'd never really seen in anyone before. After knowing he was friends with Roger, I could kind of understand why. I hoped I'd never completely understand though. To watch someone you care about die slowly and painfully second by second... I was amazed the guy could still come out and talk to people. I doubted I would've been able to do the same.

I mean, my parents' death was nothing if not sudden. It was a total shock, and even today it was sometimes hard to believe because I'd never seen their bodies- not even at the closed-casket funerals. Maybe it was better that way. I knew I couldn't watch anyone I loved die slowly. I just wouldn't be able to take it.

It was definitely a thought that kept me occupied as I slowly made my way back home, leaving the pier and all its words behind. New York was such a big place that I was pretty sure I would never see Mark again. But I hoped I wouldn't forget that look in his eyes. I hoped I'd remember it so I'd remember how lucky I really was.