We live in an Abandonded Loft (casual!)|Tag: Mark!

[ROGER DAVIS]

"Your dad's a Jew, dude," Roger said as if the statement said everything. "Of course he wanted you to be a lawyer. I'm surprised he didn't want you to be a fucking accountant first." Roger stated with a roll of his eyes. "Being a filmmaker is just as good as being a lawyer. You're helping people, and you know what? If I was your dad, that'd be cool enough for me." However, when Mark asked if Roger could imagine him like Joanne, Roger tilted his head slightly and then shook it. "You don't have the legs for a pencil-skirt, dude, sad to say. And I call shenanigans right here; I've heard you argue with Maureen plenty of times. You never won, but dammit, you gave it your all."

when the topic turned to Maureen, Roger felt himself smile slightly. "Maureen going butch. God, I have to tell her about that the next time I see her." When Mark continued, Roger arched his eyebrow slightly. "...because it's fucking hot?" Roger asked, wanting to slap his best friend upside the head. "And you know what? They could go right on ahead doing what they're doing without me. I'm cool with just watching. You can't honesty tell me that if Joanne and Maureen decided to dyke it out right here like, on the fuckin' table you wouldn't be like, freaking out. You would. I would."

"You know what? Fuck Benny. Benny can go choke on his own dick for all I care, it's not like he's getting play from Muffy. Or so I hear, at least." Roger told Mark. "Benny won't kick you out. If he kicks you out, I'll be the first one kicking his black ass up and down Avenue A." Roger moved, resting his chin on the armrest of the chair as he listened to Mark. "Hey, don't make me out to be a complete jerk-off." Roger said, lifting a finger as Mark talked about Roger's sexual habits. "All of my lays were not meaningless. Brief? Yes. When I slept with a girl, it was because we were both interested at the moment. I can't help it if the fire burned itself out the morning after. And you know what? Maybe that's your problem. Maybe mindless, meaningless sex will lead you to that perfect person. Look at me; it's how I both met April and, in a way, Mimi. Go forth, my good friend. Go forth and be meaningless."

However, when talk was brought back to April, Roger felt his lips purse at the words coming from his best friend's lips. "...she was beautiful, wasn't she?" Roger asked after a moment, letting a small smile cross his lips. "She looked beautiful any time. Even right when she woke up. I think--" Roger's smile widened slightly and he found himself chuckling softly. "I think she looked the best when she woke up. Some chicks look completely busted when they wake up. April was always beautiful." When Mark trailed off, Roger found himself smiling sadly. "April was too much of everything and not enough body to fit it all in."

However, when Mark started speaking, saying that he loved him and that he wasn't strong, Roger felt himself swallow the lump in his throat. He wanted to stop Mark from speaking, from saying anything else but he let him continue, if only to let the man get it out.

A breath escaped his lips as he felt his eyes close, and he fell silent for what seemed like ages. "We're all messed up." Roger said finally, keeping his eyes closed as he leaned his head against the back of the chair. A sad sort of laugh escaped his lips, and he brought a hand up, rubbing at his face. "If I had known...even for a second that this is where I'd be at twenty-five, I wouldn't have done any of it. Even all of the...fucking fantastic moments that I had, if I knew that I'd cut my life down to a few years, it wouldn't be worth it. The best high or the best orgasm on the planet means nothing if I'm not around to remember it." he said finally. "I can't lie to you and say I'm going to be around forever, because both of us know I don't have long." He took in a breath, bringing a hand up to wipe a his eyes. "But please don't let me die knowing that you're going to be miserable after I'm gone."

He felt himself swallow, and he shook his head slightly, sitting up on the couch. "I'm not April. I can't just...just close my eyes and let it all go and not care what happens afterwards. I realised that after I woke up in the hospital after April's funeral. I'm selfish. You know I'm selfish, but I can't be selfish about that. You have to take care of Maureen. I know she's gonna be a complete mess and she's going to be completely insane when I'm gone, and you've gotta take care of her, dude. You have to take care of her and Joanne. You have to take care of Maureen and Collins and Angel and everyone 'cause I wont be able to do it. You've gotta take care of Mimi." He felt himself swallow for a moment before he continued. "Look, Mark, I--I learned after April that just leaving is probably the most selfish thing you could do. She didn't realise what she was leaving behind. And--and dude, even though I'm dead it doesn't mean your life is over. I want to be a part of your life, but don't make me the center of it because it's only going to hurt you when it's over. After I'm gone...you're gonna be sad. And then...it'll get easier. It's always going to hurt, but it'll get easier, Mark, I promise. I still hurt. I still just lay in bed and cry because April isn't around...but it's getting better as the days go by."

He paused, picking at a stray thread on the end of his sleeve. "I don't think I was ever meant to grow old, Mark. I don't think I was meant to--to have that huge family by my bed when I'm like, eighty or ninety years old. I mean, could you imagine me all old and wrinkly? Gross, much?" Roger asked, glancing over at Mark before he looked down. "My life is gone. Other people go on with their life, knowing that they'll have forever to make up for what they did yesterday. I can't make up for it. I can't turn back time. I've completely and utterly fucked up my life, and you know what? Most of the time I'm okay with that. I'm not okay with death, Mark. I'm terrified. But I'm okay with the fact that the time I have here, I've done something. Even if it's just sitting on the couch here with you doing absolutely nothing but staring at each other. I'm here with you. But please, don't make me spend the rest of my days wondering if you're going to off yourself after I'm gone." He lifted his head to look at Mark. "And don't you lie to me, either. I know when you lie. You get nervous and twitchy."

[renthead]

Mark raised an eyebrow at his best friend. "Really? A Jew? Wow, how'd you know that. I never did." he muttered sarcastically. Of course, he probably shouldn't be being to mouthy, Roger was taking time to sit and talk to him, really talk to him, when they hadn't really had a real conversation in awhile. "I think he probably figured out I wouldn't be a very good accountant when I could barely pass Geometry. God, I hate math. I mean, I can understand it when there's numbers, but where the hell does the alphabet come in?" he wanted for a minute. Mark looked down at his legs, and tried to imagine himself in a skirt. No, no that was just not a good image. Delete, delete, delete! "Thankfully, I am perfectly comfortable in mens clothing. I don't know, I think it just works for me." he stated, smiling at his khaki pants and slightly worn out sweater. Contrary to popular belief, Mark did own jeans and t-shirts. His wardrobe changed day to day, depending on what he pulled out of his closet when he was still mostly asleep. It was just a coincidence that he was wearing that ensemble that day.

"Arguing isn't really my strong suit." Mark admitted, biting his lip gently. Not enough to hurt. "But, she did win. Each time. Which says something about our relationship, I guess." He listened to Roger talking about Maureen and Joanne going at it in their table. He shook his head. "No, I'd just find it awkward and most likely leave the room. I don't see why you think I'm secretly a pervert, like you. Well, minus the secret part." he teased, looking at the table in question. He was reminded of the fact that he was hungry. He got up, and came back with tea. It would help, for now at least. Coffee couldn't be all of a person's diet.

Mark shook his head. "Yeah, Benny is a douche, but he was our friend once, right? A good friend. The money just went to his head. It always does. I guarantee you, there are no people in the world that have money who aren't somewhat selfish. All those celebrities that donate to charities? They never do it in secret. No, it's always all over the news. Even if they act embarrassed, you know they grin every time they read 'So and So Gives Back!' It's all just a giant sham." he stated, leaning back against his chair. He thought Collins just might be proud of that speech. "Which is why I am perfectly fine being dirt broke, and living in a broken down loft. At least I know I'm not being a dick or pretending to care about things I don't give a damn about." which wasn't exactly true, but it would work.

"The only way I could probably have a meaningless lay, is if I paid for it. Otherwise, no one would be up for it. And, in case you didn't listen to my rant, I'm dirt broke. Not that I would do it anyway. I don't pay for sex." he stated, thinking back to something he'd heard from someplace or another. 'You think you don't pay for sex? You think that if you don't get married or get a girl you don't pay? Oh, you pay, but you never know if you're going to get.' "You know, that'd just be like... so embarrassing. 'Did you hear? That nerdy Jew can't get anyone and had sex with a prostitute.' I'd die." he decided.

Mark felt like one of the biggest jerks on the planet, when he noticed that Roger was crying. Who was he, to unload his troubles on his friend? He had it so easy compared to the man across from him, and Roger was living each day to the fullest these days. He had really learned from Mimi and the whole 'No Day But Today' life style she lived. But Mark didn't work like that. He tried, but he was always worrying about the future. It just was his personality. Nothing could change it. He would smile and laugh with his friends, but hours later he would be thinking about when they were all dead. It was probably destroying him. "Don't worry about me. Really, I'll get through it. It'll be hard, and I'll always miss you. You've been my best friend for... well, as long as I can remember. But I will get through it." he stated, leaning against the back of the chair he was in and closing his eyes. "Like I said, don't worry about me. I can get through it." but the thing was, he didn't really know if he could. He would try. Mark wasn't really the type to just give up. But he thought he might drown.

"I never have been able to lie to you. I wonder why that is. Everyone else falls for them hook, line, and sinker. Every time. I've been told I'm an amazing liar. I don't think you've ever let me get away with a lie." he stated, smiling lightly at his best friend. "And in your twenty-five years of life, you've done more then most people will ever experience. I guess it's like that saying... Live Free, Die Hard? Or is that a movie... Either way. It describes you well. You, April, Mimi... You lived life to the fullest. And you and Mimi will continue, I know you will. I'm just... well, I can be a bit depressed sometimes. Character flaw. But I'm fine." he stated, trying yet another lie. He tried not to twitch, or look away, now that he knew that was how Roger always caught him. He just met Roger's gaze evenly.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Really? A Jew? Wow, how'd you know that. I never did.

"I figured it out when your dad basically gave me a 'Go Jew or Go Home speech about a year after I met you. And jeez, dude, take your midol. No need to get bitchy." Roger said with a over dramatic roll of his eyes. "I don't know where the alphabet comes in, dude. I barely passed math. Too busy getting laid in 4th period." He paused, narrowing his brows as if trying to remember. "Either that, or I was--nah, I was getting laid somewhere. And I just suck at math."

"Totally, dude. You got the whole nerding-out thing going for you. Looks sexy." Roger teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips until Mark spoke of Maureen. "Dude, Maureen could win an argument with a brick wall and you know it. And you know what? If Joanne and Maureen decide to have take out right here on the table, you can go ahead and leave the room. I'm staying. It'd be the closest to a three-way that I'd never get with those two. And I'm not a pervert. I'm a man alive with a sex drive, as are you. Your's just...I don't know, seems all out of wack at times."

"If I had money," Roger started, as if making some grand statement, but it deflated slightly. "I don't know, man, if I had money, I'd like...do shit with it, to help people. I really wouldn't care if everyone knew that I was the one that did it, I'd just...do it. And you, my dear friend, just sounded like Collins. That's adorable. I wish I had a tape recorder."

Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Roger looked almost mock-sadly understanding, nodding to Mark. "You don't pay for sex." Roger echoed, and chucked slightly. "Dude, we all pay for sex. In some way, we all pay for sex, and whether or not we'll actually get shit after paying, well, that's totally not for sure." Roger said, and then lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "And dude, what's to say that sex with a prostitute would be bad? I mean, as long as she looks nice and is, you know, free of any sort of funk down there, who knows? I mean, I sleep with a stripper every night, and do I get all weirded out by it? Hell no." Roger stated with a shake of his head. "Being a stripper means that Mimi knows how to do what she does in every possible way to satisfy me, and she does it well, my friend. very well. Maybe being with a prostitute would get you some wild sex to work your ass out of this funk. Believe me, nothing's better than a wild night of just straight fucking.."

When Mark commented that he'd never been able to lie to him, Roger felt himself smile only slightly through the tears that burned in his eyes. "You may be an amazing liar, but I'm the word's best people-reader." Roger said, moving to wipe his nose with the back of his sleeve. "I can't lie to you, either." And that much was sadly true. After he and April had started slamming heroin more than once a day, Roger had given Mark had charming smile, patted his cheek and told him through a smile that he needed to stop worrying. He was fine. But then, slowly, he started shooting up and not hiding it. Slamming in the middle of the living room and not even bothering to hide the evidence. Maybe he had wanted to be found by his friend. Maybe it was his cry for help.

He sure the hell hadn't been able to lie to Mark during his withdrawals. Shaking and near puking, Roger had told him shakily that he was fine. Arms wrapped around a quivering torso, he had sat on the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth as his leg had bounced up and down up and down faster than he was sure Mark could see, he had told Mark he was fine, though in the next breath, Roger had lashed out, his hand clenching onto Mark's thin wrist as he shook his head. I'm not fine, he repeated over and over. Even after than, when he laid pale and still in his bed, Roger had tried to lie to Mark and tell him that he was fine. He knew Mark knew different.

Sometimes you needed to lie to people to go on living.

When Mark spoke, Roger looked over, meeting Mark's even gaze, and he felt his eyes close before he opened them slowly, the click of the metal lighter the only sound that passed between the Loft. He took a sharp drag in, chewing on the end of his thumbnail as he stared at Mark's even gaze.

"You're a fucking liar."

The words were said as a statement, void of any anger or hatred from the man sitting across from him. It held, instead, almost a sort of understanding. He looked away from Mark for a moment and Roger stood up, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve as he moved to the windowsill. He sat, knees curled to his chest as he watched the clouds roll over the New York skyline.

"You can't say to never worry about you." he said, his eyes steady out the window of the Loft. "It's like saying the pope can't do fuckin' mass or something. I've always worried about you. I will continue to worry about you, even if I'm on my deathbed." He took a deep drag in, pursing his lips before he blew it out. "Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if I could just...go back to the way things were. Before Mimi. Before April, even and before everything that completely fucked things up. I love Mimi, but god, things were so much easier back when it was just...us. Just you and me and Maureen and Collins. All we had to worry about was ourselves, you know? We were just innocent kids. I'd give anything to be that innocent again." Roger stated, looking at the end of his cigarette before he looked out the window. He paused for a moment, smiling slightly. "Do you remember...god, it had to have been like, that winter of '85 where it snowed like, ten feet in three hours? Maureen got stuck across town and you, me and Collins had to trek down to get her?" Roger asked, an almost sad smile crossing his lips. "We rode the subway back and cut through Tompkins. Somehow we got into a snowball fight in like, ten inches of snow." Roger let out a slight laugh. "And Collins launched this huge snowball at my head and it hit me and he thought for a second that I had brain damage 'cause I couldn't do 12 times 9 quick enough for him, but in reality I just am retarded when it comes to math?" Roger asked and smiled over at his best friend before it slowly slid away.

"I want those days back, Mark."

[renthead]

Mark smiled slightly. He wasn't a very good Jew, so he was fine with hanging around with people like Roger and Collins, but his father... oh, his father had been Jewish to the bone. He had hated Roger from almost the day he'd met him, but Roger had chose to neither go Jew or go home. His father had been kind of furious. But Mark hadn't cared, because Roger had been his best friend. "Way to stand up to the man, Roger, and do neither. God knows, he scares me and I'm his SON. It'd be way too suspicious if he killed me off." he said with a slight grin. Which then turned into a frown. "How many times do I have to tell you, Rog, I am not on any prescription, or non-prescription, drugs!" he stated, crossing his arms and pouting slightly.

"I'm still slightly surprised you graduated, you know." he stated, shrugging at the statement. Which was true, actually. Although, no one had been surprised when immediately following graduation, Roger had gone to New York to make a living. Hell, the only surprising part about that statement was that Mark had ended up joining him, after dropping out of college. Yes, that was the surprising part...

"Can we stop talking about Maureen? It doesn't really help my whole get-over-her plan." he mumbled quietly, ignoring the "nerding out" thing. He was not a nerd. He wasn't! So, he liked books and tea and scarves and sweaters and glasses and cameras... well, okay, he didn't like the glasses. He was kind of stuck with the glasses. He couldn't afford contacts, and thought of poking things into his eye on a daily basis was slightly nerve racking. So, yes, he had glasses too. That didn't meant he was a nerd.

Mark thought about Roger's statement about the money. Maybe he was right. Maybe Roger would spend it on other people. And maybe he wouldn't. "I'd like to think I would, if I suddenly came into a large amount of cash. But I probably wouldn't. I'd probably spend it all on things like, tea from India and first edition books and a white tiger or something. And then I wouldn't have anything left, and have to move back to a loft all by myself, just me and my tiger. Which would probably eat me, come to think of it." he stated, cracking a small smile. That was an idea. Buying a tiger... too bad he could barely afford a cat. Even if he wanted one. Which me might. He didn't really know. "Collins is my mentor, Rog. I'm becoming a mini pot-smoking anarchist." he teased. He agreed with some things Collins would say, but he wasn't anti-government like his favorite teacher.

"Yes, but I'm single, so I am not paying anyone right now. And I'd rather pay for a relationship, not like with money or whatever, then just sex. You know?" he stated, leaning his chin against his knees. "And at least with Mimi, you know she isn't like, having sex with all those guys. She just makes them wish she was. And I wouldn't sleep with anyone in this town I didn't know... Like no offense or anything, but that's just kind of a scary thought." As much as he sometimes hated being the only one out of his immediate group of friends without the disease, he was pretty sure he didn't wand AIDs, or any other STD actually.

"Maybe we just know each other too well." Mark said, that slight smile still playing on his lips. It was true, he usually knew when Roger was lying, even if no one else did. He'd just never really thought about it. So, he wasn't surprised when Roger caught on to his other lie.

He sat while Roger moved to the windowsill, and talked about how he wanted back the days where they had their friends and their futures stretched in front of them. Mark realized he was blinking back tears. There was nothing more in the world that he wanted, then those days back. He bit his lip, and nodded.

"I want them back too, Rog. But... they're gone. But that doesn't mean we can't make the best out of the days we have left. I'll worry about what I'll do without you when I have to. And Collins thought there was ice in the snowball, that's why, doofus. He knew you suck at math. He kind of figured you okay when you weren't bleeding, but knowing him, he probably still wonders... God knows I wonder daily if you're right in the brain. I've come to the conclusion that it was WAY before the snowball, when I first started noticing your craziness." he stated, trying to cheer Roger up. But it felt fake. Kind of forced. He held back a frown.

Yes, Mark wanted those days back... and it was kind of Roger's fault he couldn't.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Way to stand up to the man, Roger, and do neither.


"I pride myself at being a habitual line-stepper." Roger lifted a fist slightly into the air as he took a drag from the cigarette between his fingers. "Damn the Man." he said seriously before lowering the fist and arching an eyebrow. "C'mon. Your Dad's all talk and no action. All hat and no cattle." But when Mark went on about not taking any medication, Roger widened his eyes slightly before rolling them. "Sounds like someone needs a visit from the pot fairy to chill out." Roger mumbled, and then looked over seriously at Mark. "Oh my god, speaking of pot fairy. Collins owes me a sack, and that shit better be fucking fat, too. Collins brings over the pot, I'm getting you stoned. Loosen you up a little bit."

When Mark spoke of school, Roger rolled his eyes, taking a slow drag off his cigarette. "You and me both, man. You and me both. I think I just did it for my mother. You know she wanted to see me graduate. Not like it did me any good." he told him honestly. "Did you really drop out of college for me?" he asked after a moment, looking over at Mark seriously.

"Okay, fine." Roger said, nodding. "Fine, no more talking about Maureen." A silence crossed the Loft, until Roger spoke quickly. "Dude, okay, I just have to tell you that I saw her yesterday and she was wearing this really cute shirt that had a picture of a cow on it that said Mooooo-vin' right along!" Roger stated almost in one breath with a smile. "It was cute." He paused, and then nodded. "Okay. For serious. I'm done now."

"...a tiger." Roger stated, looking over at Mark as if he had grown five heads. "A tiger?" He paused, tilting his head as he actually thought about that. "That'd actually be pretty bad ass. Can I ride your tiger?" When he spoke of Collins, Roger smirked slightly. "Dude, you're too white to become Collins. And no one can become a mini-Collins. Except for Ma--She-who-shall-not-be-named. She's getting there."

However, as Mark continued, Roger pursed his lips before taking a drag from his cigarette. "Sleeping with people you don't know is one of the easiest things in the world, man. Because you don't even have to know their name if you don't want to. You don't get attached to anyone that way. You never have to worry about getting your heart broken."

Then, as he sat on the windowsill, Mark spoke of the days, how he wished he could get the days back and how he wondered if Roger was still sane. Hell, Roger himself wondered if he was still sane half the time.

"I wasn't crazy all the time." Roger protested, bringing a hand up to wipe at his eyes and his nose as he took the last drag of his cigarette and then flicked it out of the ajar window. Swallowing, he rested his chin on his knees for a moment. "Okay, maybe I always have been crazy. I mean, I was sorta drunk when I first met you.." he paused and looked over at Mark for a moment before he stood up, moving over to Mark, holding out his hand to help the man up. "C'mon. C'mon, get up. We're going out. We're going out and getting drunk. It's settled and don't try to convince me otherwise. It's been a while since we've just gone out, so c'mon. Up."

[renthead]

Mark rolled his eyes at his friends. If they didn't think he needed something like Prozac, they assumed he needed to be high. But then again, they were probably right. So he nodded. "Sounds good, I guess. Just, don't try and wear a dress this time. The mental images are still staining my innocence." he teased, leaning back against his chair and smiling sinisterly at his best friend,

"Well, I'm glad you graduated. Now you can proudly say you are not a high school drop out. And I don't know... not really for you. For me. Because, honestly, I did NOT want to be a business man. I am not Benny. And, I'm really happy I did. Even if it left my family pissed at me." he stated, shrugging slightly. Dropping out of college may have been one of the only things Mark had actually done for himself, without thinking about the consequences. But, Roger had been a big part of his decision. Without Roger having a place where he could easily move into, he never would have done it. Scrawny Jewish boys had no place on the street.

Mark groaned, dropping his head against his hands. He did not want to hear about Maureen's cuteness. Although he had to ask...

"What is her obsession with cows? I mean, she did that whole protest on Elsie the cow and it's just slightly... weird."

Mark laughed, as Roger seriously considered the tiger. "No, you can not ride my tiger. It will be put to sleep, or in a zoo or something, after it eats me. I'm writing that into my will. "If I get eaten by a tiger, Roger can not ride it." he decided, smiling brightly. "Collins is whipped now, man. I'm going to be BETTER then Collins!" he stated, smiling brightly and fist pumping a little. Yes, he was weird. Yes, he was fine with that. "And also, now you're making her sound like Voldemort."

Mark listening to Roger quietly, nodding slightly. But then shook his head. "No! No, Roger. I do not like going out and getting drunk. I get all giggly, and embarrassing and you always leave to go flirt with some girl, and then I get paranoid and assume everything that moves is trying to kill me and No!" he stated, shaking his head and clinging to the chair as a statement that he would not get up. Nope. Roger could not make him. He couldn't.

A/N: Finally, right? Sorry!

[ROGER DAVIS]

"I don't give a shit what you say, I looked pretty sexy in that dress. My girlfriend thought so." Of course, Mimi had wanted him after she had stopped laughing hysterically. But whatever.

"I am not a high school drop out," Roger repeated with a nod. "I am already better than my dead-beat dad." When he spoke of leaving college and being a businessman, Roger smirked. "You'd look funny in a suit. Besides, your mom still loves you. You're her baby boy. Of course she's gonna love you. You can do no wrong. Your dad, however, will probably want to put the fear of Christ into you. Or, you know, the fear of Jew-God."

When he spoke of Maureen, Roger smirked, leaning back into the large, green chair. "I don't know, but Elise was funny as hell." Roger stated, and then frowned deeply at Mark's protest that he was not able to ride the tiger. "What! Dude! Not cool!" Roger pouted. "And dude, your tiger will not eat you. You want to know why? You're skin and bones. There's nothing to eat, you twig."

However, as Mark sank down into the chair, firmly clinging to it, Roger narrowed his brows at his friend, pursed lips in thought.

"You know what?" Roger asked, and then a slow smile spread on his face. "You leave me no choice." Roger moved over to the phone, picking it up and dialing.

"Sunny-Bunny!" Roger said happily, looking over at Mark with a bright smile. "How is my beautiful little Lotus Blossom? I didn't wake you up, baby, did I? I didn't interrupt sex, did I?" Roger waggled his eyebrows, giving a suggestive waver in his voice before he smiled at her tone on the phone. "You are such a dirty little bitch. Anyway, baby, I have a serious problem. My best friend, Mr. Mark Cohen, is feeling a little down in the dumps." Roger dropped his voice to a childish, sad voice. "Yes, I know! Poor Widdle Marky-Poo. I'm activating our little Bohemian Phone tree. Yes. Yes, I need to get Mark laid. Turn his frown upside down, 'cause he's being even more depressed and shut in than me. No, actually, I was thinking Amelia. Hold on, honey."

Cupping his hand over the phone, Roger looked at Mark with a smirk. "Come and drink your face off at the Life with me and I won't put you in an awkward, yet possibly sexy situation with Amelia that I have a feeling you'll totally bomb anyway."

He uncupped the phone. "Oh my GOD! Amelia is there?!" Roger exclaimed, looking over at Mark with wide eyes. "Oh my god, really? Tell her! Yes! Tell her Mark Cohen totally wants to bang her like a screen--Wait! Wait, what is she wearing? No, wait, better question. What are you wearing?"

[renthead]

Mark rolled his eyes. "I don't care about Mimi's kinks. Think about the other people you scared for life. Think about your dear best friend who now has an image of you in a dress stuck in his lovely head." Mark stated, trying to look serious but smiling in the middle of the sentence.

Mark nodded his head calmly. "You are not a high school dropout. You also didn't fail out of high school. Your mama is probably very proud of you." Mark frowned. He looked funny in a suit? He'd worn a suit a few times. Roger hadn't told him he looked funny. "How funny? Should I burn my only suit? I mean, I know it's ratty and stuff but... how funny do I look?!" he took a deep breath, and then frowned. "Jew-God is regular God, Roger. After being friends with me for God knows how long, you'd think you'd pick up at least something about the Jewish religion. I mean I know I don't follow it too closely, but still." he said with an eye roll.

Mark raised an eyebrow at his friend, slightly worrying about him. "Rog... dude... you do realize Elsie does not exist, right? She is purely a figment of Maureen's imagination. Cows can't talk... or leap over the moon." he stated, calmly. He made a face when Roger said he was too skinny to be eaten by his very own tiger. "... Hey! It's not my fault. The money goes towards... other things." AZT, rent, and making sure Roger ate enough.

When Roger moved towards the phone, Mark watched with wide eyes. No. He wouldn't. He was doing it. He was such a horrible best friend! Horrible! Why did he even like Roger? He didn't. Nope, not anymore. He was officially whoring his best friend out over the phone. How mean could he get? Mark tried to come up with a way to calmly get his best friend to hang up the phone, and possibly hit him over the head with a guitar. But, not being very good at that, he stood and tackled Roger.

"I hate you!" he yelled as the tackling was taking place. He then grabbed the phone.

"Sorry, Roger is unavailable right now. He's too busy getting beaten up by his best friend. No, no services will be needed by any girls anytime soon. So sorry Roger bothered you. Yes, he is a pervert. I agree. Bye." he hung up the phone, and turned back to Roger.

"Bad!"

[ROGER DAVIS]

"I like Mimi's kinks. All of Mimi's kinks, actually." Roger protested lightly, settling himself into the worn chair. "Dude, seriously? Me in a dress is not the worst mental image you've seen of me. Let's be real."

"Too proud of me, yes, but yes, proud of me all the same. She's a very silly woman at times." Roger said, flicking the cigarette he held between his fingers before bringing it to his lips. "Nah, don't burn your only suit. You can look like a penguin at my funeral." Roger teased, and then rolled his eyes. "Untwist your panties, you girl. You look fine."

When Mark once again commented on the finer points of Jewish faith, Roger rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll give you the breakdown of what I know. You have no foreskin, there's a certain days of the month that you can't even think about getting laid or you go to hell, and you can't eat pig. Which sucks. 'Cause pork chops? Awesome. And you know what? Jew-God should think pork chops are awesome, too. My mom makes the best pork chops, ones that would even have HIM drooling."

Then, as he was on the phone, listening to Sunny and Amelia giggle, Roger's lips spread into a smile. "So what is Amelia-Bedelia doing over at your house? Are you guys pillow fighting and if so, can I come and join in?" However, a sound made Roger's head turn, only to see a thin blob of flesh heading straight for him. "Oh shi--"

Mark landed on top of him, and he tried to keep the phone out of the man's reach. "SUNNY! CALL THE COPS! I'M BEING ATTACKED BY A HUNDRED POUND ALBINO!"

I hate you!

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape!" Roger mock-wailed as Mark snatched the phone from him, talking loudly as Mark talked into the phone. "He totally wants your ass, Amelia! He told me so! He wants to have hot, mad, passionate JEWISH SEX WITH YOU! ME LOVE YOU RONG TIME, SUNSHINE!"

The phone was hung up, and Mark turned back to Roger, which made the man smirk and prop up on his elbows on the floor.

"I was so close to getting you laid, too. They were probably in their bras and panties comparing boob sizes and giggling about David Hasselhoff, or whatever girls do when they're together. There could have been a pillow fight, Mark Cohen. A Pillow. Fight. And probably hot lesbian sex because I know Sunny's always willing to have a side of fish on her plate at any given moment. You, sir, are a big, giant package of no-fun ramen. Extra crazy-Jewish flavoured."

[renthead]

[A/N: This post brought to you by Look Around, Model Prisoner, RENT OBC cast, and the movie cast. I love this playlist. ;] ]

Mark considered this for a moment. "I bet Mimi does have a lot of kinks. She is an S&M dancer, I mean... I think you met your soul mate Rog. Someone who likes sex as much as you do." he decided, nodding seriously. He frowned at Roger. He didn't want to remember his worst mental images of his best friend. He'd rather have the cross dressing one instead. He turned it into a joke. "You're right. You naked is totally worse then you in a dress." he joked, moving on to the next thing he talked about.

"Hey, I'm damn proud of you for not being a high school drop out, and I'm only your friend. Of course she'd be too proud. She's your mom, and no offense, but she probably thought you were going to end up on the street addicted to heroin. But you didn't. You ended up in a cheap loft in New York City, addicted to heroin. But then not addicted to heroin. So I'd say she has plenty of reasons to be proud of you. And pissed off at you, but still." he stated, nodding again. Sure, Roger had made mistakes in his life. Some of them had even been sort of deadly. But he wasn't a complete screw-up, and that was what mattered most really.

"Penguins are cute. Women all over the world adore penguins. I will gladly look like a penguin, fine sir." Mark stated, smirking lightly. "And I'm the girl, Mr. I Wear Eyeliner and Plaid Pants That Are Way To Tight? Not to mention the fingernail polish..." Mark listened to Roger's explanation of his faith, and sighed. He thought it best not even to delve into an argument about whether God would eat Roger's mother's pork chops. Roger wouldn't ever let it go. So, he ignored that. And moved on.

"First of all, I am NOT an albino. Second of all, no one in their right mind would rape you, and third of all, you are such a pervert! And I hate you now. I'm no longer your best friend. Nope, you'll have to have Collins be your best friend, cause I'm done." he stated, smiling lightly but crossing his arms. If only things could be as easy as when you were messing around. "Unless... you make me tea." he finally decided, nodding again. Time to see how much his friendship meant to Roger. He smirked.

[ROGER DAVIS]

"God, you would not believe." Mark replied to Mark's mention to Mimi's kinks. "And I thought April liked sex. She's actually worn me out. Like, she's put me in a coma at some points. It's fucking fantastic." Roger sighed almost dreamily. "She's fantastic." he murmured, resting his chin against his palm as he looked over at Mark, smirking slightly. "God, I wish I could say you've never seen me naked. Then again, Maureen managed to get your white ass out in the living room. That could have been a sight I could have lived without."

Then again, he was sure he had seen every Loftmate's naked form at one point or another; strip poker night had made sure of that, thought Roger had usually always been the one naked since he sucked at poker.

He paused when Mark spoke of his mother, and he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right, well, I'm not planning on seeing her anytime soon to see if she really is as proud as you say." he said after a moment. "She'll find out all the ways I've decided to fail in my life after I'm dead and gone. It's that simple. Keep her proud of me until I can't see her not."

"Well, I guess you can kinda compare yourself to a penguin. You live in a near sub-zero temperature area for most of your time." When Mark commented on his outfit choices, Roger rolled his eyes. "April liked the eyeliner. And Mimi likes my plaid pants, thank you very much. And my fingernail polish..." he paused, looking down at his black fingernails for a moment. "I get bored and the polish is lying around. That does not make me a girl. It makes me bored."

"You are an albino." Roger protested. "You're whiter than I am and I go out less than you! And my girlfriend wants to rape me every night, so suck it. And I hate you, too, how about that?" Roger asked, sitting up to cross his arms over his chest. "You know what? Maybe I will. Maybe Collins will be my new best friend. If I told Collins we were getting drunk right now, do you know how many seconds it would take for him to say yes? .0458th of a second, Mr. Buzz Killington."

However, tea did sound good, now that Mark mentioned it. He glanced over at the kitchen, pursed his lips, and stood up, moving to the small kitchen. "And before you start to gloat," Roger pointed out, turning to look at him slightly before he poured the old coffee out of the pot, filling it with water and placing it on the hotplate. "I'm not making you tea to re-weave our friendship. I'm making you tea so I can hock a loogie in it." Only when Roger glanced back could Mark see that Roger was smiling slightly. He opened the cupboard, glancing at the large amount of tea there.

"Hmmmmmmm, tea. Tea, tea, tea. What do you want?"

[renthead]

Mark laughed, and nodded. Mimi was gorgeous, and even though he didn't really want to hear specifics about her and his best friend's sex lives, he was glad they were both happy. "Maureen just wanted foot massages all the time. I could probably write a killer book about foot massages. Maybe even two volumes." he said, smirking slightly. It wasn't like that was all Maureen wanted, really, but it was the thing that she wanted most often. Even in public. Even though Mark sometimes complained about it, really, Mark was glad all of his friends were happily in a relationship. It meant less time for them to bitch to him about stuff, not that he really minded, and less time for them worrying about what was to come. It was a good thing. But the nakedness was not a good conversation topic. So he changed it. "No, we are not bringing that up. Let's talk about Cheetohs." He frowned, wondering where that'd came from. "On second thought, lets not. It'll just make me want some."

"Oh wow, Roger. That's lovely. You know, she really should find out from you. I mean, imagine her showing up at your funeral all sad and not even knowing you were dying. At least we have time to get used to it man." No, he didn't like sad topics. But this was probably a necessity. He felt bad for Roger's mother. And who would be the one to tell her her son had died of AIDs, if it came down to him never telling her? Mark certainly didn't want the job.

"That's true. Do you think we can ever get Benny to not shut off our heat every time he gets annoyed with us? One day I'm going to die of frostbite and it'll be all his fault. Then he won't feel all high and mighty..." he muttered the last part to himself, before looking up again. "The "Modern Sex God" look fits you, Roger. But you have to admit, all those qualities make you sound like a girl. So ha. You also dye your hair. You aren't a natural blond! Mwhaha! Blonds have more fun in life." stated the strawberry blond, smirking lightly. When he had been younger his hair had been red, bright red really, but as he had gotten older it had slowly gone to blond. Roger's was brown. So he could laugh. His was not dyed in anyway.

"It's not my fault I don't tan! And it's not rape if its consensual, dumb ass. So no, Mimi doesn't want to rape you every night. She wants consensual sex. And also, I can't "suck it." My mom told me to never put small things in my mouth. And good, because I hate you more then you hate me. And yes, Collins would go get drunk with you, but you'd both get about halfway back to the loft and confused and wind up in Canada or Wisconsin. There is a reason someone always goes with you. he explained, sticking his tongue out at his former-best-friend.

But then he grinned. Roger was going to make tea. "Ha! Liar. You're making me tea because you love me and don't want me to hate you." he stated back, keeping an eye on Roger anyway. Just in case he really did spit in the tea. "I don't care." he decided, watching the rock star in the kitchen... with Dina. Strumming on the old banjo.

[ROGER DAVIS]

"'Cause when got her feet rubbed on it made her panties all wet." Roger commented from the kitchen, however, at the mention of Cheetohs, Roger almost drolled. "Oh my god. Write it down. I want Cheetohs next time we go out. A big bag of Cheetohs and a big bag of Doritoes." His stomach growled and grumbled in responce, and he knew that probably next to some three-day old Chinese, there was nothing to eat in the Loft.

When he spoke of his mom, Roger scoffed slightly, pouring water into two mugs. "Well, she's not gonna find out from me. So that's that." Roger said, not looking back at Mark as he prepared the tea. "She'll find out how I died from the Voice. You can send her a copy if you want." He said as he dunked two teabags into the mugs. "I'm not hurting her like that. I've hurt too many people."

"Benny's just a prick riding a high horse. And as far as I'm concerned, he can ride that high horse off into the smog-choked sunset. You're going to die of frostbite and Mimi, Collins and I are all gonna end up with sitting in a hospital bed like Angel was. He doesn't realise that." But when the topic switched to his hair, Roger turned, glaring at Mark. "Hey! My hair colour is a forbidden topic in this Loft! It's blonde! Just because you've seen me with long hair once does not mean you can mention it to anyone, and so help me god, if you ever produce pictures or mention that to Mimi, I will kill you. I'll kill you dead." He turned back to the tea, turning the hotplate off. "And besides, blondes do not have more fun. It's all about the brunettes and redheads. And since you're no longer a part of the ginger race," Roger glanced over his shoulder at Mark, "You cannot have fun. And suck. Hard. So there."

"Is it rape if she ties me up? 'Cause she does that sometimes." Roger commented, turning with both mugs in his hands, rolling his eyes at the small things comment. "Fuck you, Cohen." he muttered, handing the man a cup of tea. "Oh no, I'm pretty sure that my hatred for you is growing by the second." The comment of Collins made his eyes roll again as he plopped down onto the couch. "Hey! That was one time, and we ended up in Muffy's neck of the woods. It was scary, dude."

When Mark commented about the tea, Roger rolled his eyes over the rim of his mug. "I hate you more, so it really doesn't matter how much you hate me."

His stomach rumbled again, and he frowned. "Seriously though, dude, can we put the hate-fest on hold and go get some food? My stomach's getting ready to eat itself."

[renthead]

Mark raised an eyebrow at him. "You talk about that an awful lot. I'm going to try to tune you out now. And stop worrying about why you seem to know so much involving sex and my ex-girlfriend." Mark decided, studying his best friend for a moment before turning his face away. The thought of cheesy goodness made Mark's own stomach grumble. He reached out for a pad of paper and a pencil, and quickly scribbled the junk food onto it. "Soon as we get some money, we'll hold a chip party." he agreed.

Mark sighed when Roger said he wasn't going to tell his mom. "That's a lovely way to find out, Roger. God, imagine hearing about her dying from, like, cancer or something. From a newspaper." he retorted, looking down at his hands. Death wasn't a fun topic. At all. But he wished Roger would get it through his head that he needed to tell his mom... he wouldn't have to talk about it anymore at least. "That is hurting her." he didn't say the last part very loud. He didn't know if Roger would even be able to hear it.

Mark sighed as Roger talked about Benny. "Maybe he will. Maybe he'll realize that he's being a prick, and come back to the side of good. Maybe we just need to... I don't know. Lure him back with cookies. Cookies are better then girls anyway." he decided, nodding his head and making a split second decision to add cookies to his list of junk food he would buy as soon as he could afford it. Mark smirked at Roger as they discussed his hair color. "Roger dyes his hair, Roger dyes his hair!" he teased in a sing song voice. "Well... at least I don't dye my hair!" was his only come back for Roger's "brunettes and redhead" joke. "And since you DO, the brunette race disowns you. So you don't get to have any fun either. And you suck too." he decided, waving his hands in a way to show authority.

"No, that's just kinky. It's only rape if you don't want it. And I have a feeling, that has never, and will never, happen to you." he stated, rolling his eyes at his best friend. "I thought you had Mimi for that? Is she finally getting tired of you? And good. Because I'm hating you more too. And it was only Alison's part of town because we FOUND you before Collins' convinced you to get on the bus. If we had been like, five minutes later you would have been on your way to Canada." Mark took his cup of tea, and nodded.

"You can't hate me more then I hate you. It's impossible. But sure. Do we have any money?" he asked, pulling out his wallet and seeing only a measly ten dollars. It would pay for him though. He raised an eyebrow at Roger. "And where do you want to go?"

[ROGER DAVIS]

"She tells me." Roger stated, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "And I'm perverse enough to just let her go right ahead and ramble on when she talks about what gets her off."

Roger sighed, looking down at his mug as if it held all the answers in the world that he needed. "Look," he stated after what seemed like years of silence. "When I first started going to Life Support, they said if we couldn't talk to someone face to face, we could write them a letter. I've been writing a letter to my mother for almost two years. Maybe someday I'll send it to her." Roger stated carefully, looking over at his best friend. He heard Mark say something, a bare whisper but he heard it faintly all the same, and Roger pursed his lips.

"It may be hurting her, but it's killing me." Roger stated, and then sighed. "Please, just drop it, okay? Just let it go."

"Yeah, maybe I'll sprout wings and start playing the fuckin' harp." Roger sighed as Mark spoke of Benny. "I remember when all you needed to convince Benny to do anything was a few six-packs of beer and a chick with a nice set of tits." Roger shook his head. "What happened to Benny?"

"...while cookies are fantastic, my friend," he started, "they are not better than girls." he paused, sighing out. "Mimi needs to be home, soon. I want some of her cookies.

Roger rolled his eyes at Mark's sing-song tone. "Shut up before I throw something at your head." And at Mark's comeback, Roger scoffed. "Wow. Awesome comeback, Cohen."

"No, you're right. That will never, ever ever happen to me. I like Mimi's cookies too much, remember? And please," Roger said, as if Mark had just offended him greatly. "Mimi has never said no to sex with me. Ever. The day she does is the day I know something is seriously wrong with her."

Mark dug into his pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill, and Roger sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "We've known each other for a long, long time, Mark." Roger said as he sat up, taking a sip of his tea. "And it still has not hit you that, with a few well place words, a smile or too, I can get us damn near anything? 'Speshally if Amanda is working. Amanda always wanted to jump my dick." Roger stated, and then shrugged. "But if she's not? We just eat and run."

Mark asked where he wanted to go, and Roger shrugged slightly. "Dunno. The Life?"