Ain't No Party Like Ours | Roger, INACTIVE

[ROGER DAVIS]

Seriously, Roger? Mark? Since when am I anything like Mark?

"Mark doesn't realise it, but he's very obsessive." Roger replied, watching as she crossed her arms over her chest. "So are you. You both are also head over heels in love with a one walking Sex Bob-Omb that is Maureen Johnson. You're both willing to walk over fire for her, which is funny 'cause they've been broke up for like what, three years now and if she says jump, he'll totally ask how high. Weird, huh?" He shook his head slightly. "But I wont give either one of you any shit. Maureen's hard to get over."

He paused and then narrowed his brows slightly in thought. "You also observe things. This also feeds into both of you obsession tendencies." Roger commented with a slight shrug. "If you get upset, you hide in your work. If Mark gets upset, he hides in his work. Or he focuses on something entirely. Like with me. He didn't want to deal with what happened with April, so he focused everything on me. You guys are more alike than you realise." he explained and then felt a small smile cross his face. "I'm just surprised we hadn't met you before Christmas. I think you would have gotten along. I mean, I get why MJ didn't introduce you to us; bringing a girlfriend over to her ex boyfriend's place isn't exactly kosher. Even for Maureen."

[joannejefferson]

Alright. The joke had long since stopped being a joke. As he spoke, Joanne wasn't quite sure she really wanted to hear what he had to say. I mean really, who wants to be compared to their girlfriend's ex? Joanne certainly did not. But, realizing that talking about this was keeping Roger rather calm she didn't protest. Rather, she tried to listen what he had to say without railing him down.

Wow. Maybe she should have drunken almost-sex with Roger more often. She's being nice. Huh. Moving On.

As the rocker continued on, she began to see his point, which was both frightening and enlightening at the same time. She'd always wondered what Maureen had loved about Mark, or for that matter, she often found herself wondering what Maureen loved about her. Thanks to Roger's insight, she could understand a little. Okay, maybe not understand, but she could see the similarities. It was actually a little frightening what they had in common, and to her mind, that was as much a problem as it was the source of their rather awkward chummy friendship.

"Part of that was my fault I think." She sighed and went back to leaning against the railing. "I liked having Maureen to myself, and as long as I didn't know you guys, I could pretend that I was the most important part of her life. Even if I knew that I wasn't." Down below them, she watched a few cars speed down the street. "You know, I used to be really intimidated by Mark. Sometimes I still am."

Now, things were really getting strange. She couldn't even believe she'd just said that. Even worse, it was an utterly true statement, and even as she said it she felt as though a small weight was lifting from her. She'd never actually paused to think about why she felt that way until now. Thanks again, Roger.

"I mean, it's different when you go through break ups and you know your other half is going to be just as miserable as you are. With Maureen, I've always known that she'd have someone there to pick up the pieces. There's this shadow of a chance that she might, you know, be able to move on and be happy with someone else." She looked over at Roger. "It's irrational and selfish, I know, but it's always so damn fucking hard to imagine Maureen being happy with someone that isn't me."

[ROGER DAVIS]

You know, I used to be really intimidated by Mark. Sometimes I still am.

Roger paused, leaning against the railing to look down at the cars below. They were high up, higher than the Loft and for a brief second, Roger felt a small twinge of vertigo cross over him. "I'll be sure to tell him that whenever he has a moment of low self esteem." Roger stated sarcastically with a smile before he leaned over the rail once again to look down. "Mark doesn't know it, but I'm always intimidated by him. Not like, scared of him...but in awe sometimes. He makes good shit. Beautiful shit, even, that can change lives. I make songs that make girls panties drop. There's a big difference, and he doesn't realise that. I'm serious about my shit...but Mark takes it to a whole other level. I admire that about him."

Roger frowned, listening as Joanne spoke about her relationship with Maureen. He let out a slight sigh, unsure of how he could explain it. "I've know Maureen for...a long time. I mean, I lived in the same apartment with her for years. Just watching her, I've learned almost everything there is to know." He pursed his lips and shrugged slightly. "I can't even begin to explain Maureen to you. I mean, you know all about her...but...okay, let's put it this way. If Maureen could have a clone of herself, she'd never come out of the bedroom. She's a beautiful, free-spirit of a little girl, but she's also narcissistic as hell. Maureen's happy for a moment most of the time. She's very ADD that way, 'speshally with sex. However, next to Mark, you are the longest I've seen her with and actually, you know...for the most part, happy." He looked over at her as he wondered if he was making sense.

"That's another reason why you and Mark are so much alike. You pay attention to her. Maureen thrives on attention. It's like her version of Heroin. Just keep giving her attention, and I doubt she'll get bored. Be like some shiny, dangle-y keys and she'll stay focused."

[joannejefferson]

It wasn't hard to understand what Roger was saying. Mark was a brilliant individual, and while Joanne often made it her mission in life to make him forget what an amazing individual he was, she couldn't deny that he was exactly that. Mark had a keen eye to see the world, and with his ever present camera he captured it. Sadly, Mark seemed to get trapped behind that camera sometimes. Of course, Joanne knew she was exactly the same way. Work always took over her life. Work always came first.

Roger's description of Maureen, while incredibly unnecessary, was a rather apt description. Joanne had never really thought her favorite brunette needed a description. Maureen simply was. She was impossible to tack down with pretty words, impossible to draw with plain metaphors and similes. Maureen Johnson was just Maureen Johnson. The woman was an idol in Joanne's eyes, and not in the sense that she lay upon a pedestal of perfection (Joanne knew Maureen's flaws better than most) but in the idea that she was unattainable, unreachable, a prize that even God himself would envy having. It was awe-inspiring that Maureen was even a part of her life, and on most days Joanne would question the other woman's sanity in choosing the boorish, anal-retentive, obsessive control freak, paranoid lawyer that she was.

Call her crazy, but there was no person on the planet that could love Maureen as much as Joanne did. At least, she thought so, and really, no one's opinion on the subject mattered.

"I'd give anything to make Maureen happy. Sometimes, I just don't know how." The sound of the buzzer indicating the arrival of the pizzas arriving interrupted her. She turned toward the balcony door, smiling as did so. "About damn time. I'm starving." She glanced back over at Roger. "You know, I'm pretty damn positive that Maureen is the drug in this relationship. That's the only way I can explain my addiction." Laughter spilled from her lips, and she danced back into the bedroom. "Come on, Rockstar. Let's feed our faces."

[ROGER DAVIS]

As Joanne stepped back, Roger brought the newly lit cigarette up to his lips. Sure, he needed to quit, but like he told Joanne, it wasn't like he was going to die of cancer anytime soon. She spoke, saying she'd give anything to make Maureen happy, and Roger smirked. "Pay attention to her. You'll keep her interest." Roger told Joanne, watching her dance into the bedroom. Flicking the cigarette over the balcony, he followed her, smelling pizza. His stomach actually grumbled, and he moved, sighing as he collapsed back onto the bed.

Her sheets were really soft. Probably five-billion thread count. Hearing the door open, Roger stood from the bed and moved to the living room, watching as she payed for the pizza. He wasn't sure if the pizza man was used to a girl clad only in panties and a bra standing where he was standing, but the slightly confused look on his face made him smirk slightly.

"I'm gay." he told the pizza boy as if giving an explanation for his being there, shirtless in a lesbian's penthouse. "We're doing gay stuff together."

[joannejefferson]

Joanne danced her way through the apartment and to her front door, some strangely familiar tune bouncing in her mind as she moved. It was a song no one else could hear, and she was in too strange a mood to really care what she looked like. Opening the door, she greeted the delivery boy, not even bothering to be upset by his leering eyes as she stood before him in a skin-tight t-shirt and form-fitting sweatpants. It wasn't until Roger showed up and started teasing the poor boy about his obvious shock at seeing a shirtless man in her apartment that she remembered that she needed to pay the boy. Grinning, she danced her way over to the counter and grabbed the cash from her wallet, including her usually large tip to the boy and sidled back over to the slack-jawed kid.

"Yeah, my girlfriend's not here for you to stare at, sorry. If you'd have come just a few minutes earlier, you'd have lucked out. I had less on then." She laughed and took the pizza box, before shutting the door on the kid as he walked away. Joanne then turned to Roger, still laughing, and began to walk into the living room to sit the pizza on the coffee table.

"You couldn't think of anything better to say than 'gay stuff'? Wow." She flipped the box lid up and ripped out a piece of the pizza. "Nothing like New York pizza. It's so yummy. God, I've been crazing this stuff for ages."

[ROGER DAVIS]

"The fact that the pizza kid eye-fucks your girlfriend every time she orders pizza amuses me." Roger stated as Joanne paid for the pizza and shut the door, setting the box down on the coffee table. "I mean, the kid has good taste. I've been known to eye-fuck Maureen once or twice. She's very eye-fuckable. However, if that kid every got to be alone with Maureen? I give him five seconds before he comes all in his jeans. She probably wouldn't have had to do much. Poor kid looks like he's on the verge of hitting puberty."

When she asked about the gay stuff, Roger smirked, stuffing his mouth with a piece of pizza, chewing and speaking at the same time. "You're a lesbian. He wouldn't have believed me if I said we were two seconds away from fucking, so I didn't even waste my breath. But, on the off-chance that he did believe that we were two seconds away from fucking, I didn't need him sprouting off to everyone in the neighbourhood that Joanne Jefferson had a young, handsome-yet-dangerous looking rockstar up in her penthouse. I mean, now-a-days it's the whole 'pictures or it didn't happen' type of thing, and no one has pictures of me with my tongue down your throat or my dick in your pussy, so as far as I'm concerned, it didn't happen." He bit off another piece and chewed. "But between you and me, baby? Our almost-sex was the best almost-sex I've had in a while."

He chewed and swallowed. "And hey, I could be gay. You never know." Okay, of course Roger Davis couldn't be gay. He knew he liked women far too much, but the thought, at least, was entertaining. "Okay, maybe I lied. You'd have to get me extremely drunk to even think about gettin' my gay on with some dude. And even then...I'd be picky."