Alone

Roger say on the ragged couch, arm on his bent knee, chin on his arm. His unfocused eyes were aimed somewhere around the windows, which were open and letting in a fine warm, not seeing it.

“Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes,” drifted the singing voice from the other side of the sliding metal door, then it slid open with a protesting clang, revealing Roger’s roommate rumpled and wind-blown. “Five hundred, twenty-five thousand... hey, Roger!”

He shifted a little, eyes sliding over to look at the blond. “Hey.”

“I brought food,” Mark said cheerfully, holding up a box of Chinese.

Roger shrugged listlessly. “Not really hungry.”

Mark frowned, and hopped on the couch beside Roger, imitating the other’s pose. “What’s wrong, Rog?”

The other gave him a dry, pointed look, not bothering to answer.

“Oh, Roger,” Mark sighed, shifting a little so he could lean against the other’s side. “It’s not your fault, Rog. It was the drugs that did it, her immune system was shot all to hell anyway.”

Roger sighed. “Mark...”

“You haven’t picked up your guitar in months,” Mark insisted. “Maybe you could, I dunno, vent. Get it all out.”

“Mark.” Roger said coldly. “Mimi’s dead.”

Mark sighed. “So’s Angel.”

Roger smiled faintly, eyes soft. “That’s true.”

“So?” Mark bumped the other’s shoulder, smiling broadly. “You dealt with that, right?”

“Yeah,” Roger shrugged.

“So...?” Mark encouraged.

Roger just shrugged.

“They say life is short

And brother, you n me,

Ours are shorter than most.”

Roger peered at the other as he began to sing, quiet and low.

“You, I never told you

We were so much akin

I tried to hide it.”

He smiled faintly, then continued:

“I bet you never figured

Ol’ Mark had something wrong

But you’re not the only one,

No, Rog, not the only one.

I take AZT breaks,

I can’t give blood,

I can’t kiss my mom,

I won’t have children,

Rog, you’re not the only one.”

Roger grabbed Mark’s face in his hands, peering hard at his friend. “You-?!”

“I.” Mark nodded.

Leaping off the couch, he paced desperately around the room, shaking his hands in the air as he pondered this. Muttering to himself, Roger moved feverishly, almost frantically, before spinning back to Mark, and picking up the refrain.

“All I ever found in life

Was pain and hate

And love and fear.

I tried and lost

I lost my love to pain

And I’ll lose my life to it

I lost one love

Then I lost another

What do you want me to say?

That I wish you never told me?

That you told me sooner?

Why’d you tell me at all?”

“I wanted to tell you

I wanted you to know

You’re not the only one.” Mark jumped up as well, grabbing Roger’s shoulders. Gripping tightly, he sang: “I just wanted you to know,

Rog you’re not the only one,

Rog, you’re not the only one.”

“This is my life now!

I lost my loves, my life,

You want me to lose you too?”

Mark frowned. “Roger?”

Roger reached up to cup Mark’s face the same way he had before. “Mark,” he said slowly, weighing each word carefully. “I lost April. Then I lost Mimi. I... I’ve got HIV, Mark. I could die. I will die. Young. Early. Soon. You were safe, so I never said...” he hesitated. “I’m gonna die before you, Mark. I didn’t want to tell you...”

Mark reached up to grip Roger’s wrists. “Tell me what, Roger?”

“I didn’t...” Roger hesitated, then pushed his head forward, and kissed Mark, passionately, desperately, impatiently. Pulling back just enough that his lips brushed against Mark’ as he spoke, he whispered, “I didn’t want to risk it.”

Mark smiled, and reached up to run his fingers through Roger’s curls. Whispering, he sung again: “Rog, you’re not alone.”


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