The Loft: Late August 2000
"Alright. I've given you your space. Now you need to tell me what the fuck's going on." Roger looks up from the couch to see Mark standing with his hands on his hips.
"Enough with the dramatics, Cohen. It's none of your business."
"Like hell it's not. You're in this Loft, and you're moping again. Hell, I haven't seen you mope like this since..."
"Don't say it. For fuck's sake, don't say it." Roger winces. "ALright, alright. I should probably tell you anyway." He didn't want to admit that he'd wanted to talk to Mark anyway. It just wasn't how he went about things.
"So? What's going on? I need you to get better. Orlando can't seem to get...." Mark attempts a smirk, but all he really accomplishes is to look slightly less concerned.
"I slept with April." Roger sighs. "She still wants me, and... hell, Mark. I never stopped wanting her." He stares down at the boards on the floor, wishing he could fall through them into the oblivion below. "I don't know what she's going to do, though. I don't know if she's going to leave what's his butt the doctor or not. I don't think I would. Hell, Mark, she could have a life, a real life with him. I'm just a musician. I'm going to die..."
"Shut up, Roger, and listen to yourself. You're saying that you can't get back with your dead girlfriend because you're going to die? What happened to no day but today?"
"That was always Mimi's line, not me." Roger winces at the mention of Mimi. "That's the other problem. Mimi'll take off my balls with a rusty spork."
"There's one in the drawer, you know." Mark shrugs, idly. "Roger, man, you know that I've always tried to tell it like it is. Hell, I did even when you didn't want to listen." Mark sighs. "This one, though, I think you're going to have to do on your I can't tell you who you want to be with, I can't tell you who you love."
"I love them both, Mark. That's my fucking problem." Roger covers his face with his hands. "It's just... April was my first love. I've been writing more in the past couple days than I have in years, because she's around. Mimi is wonderful, she's sexy, she's amazing, but I just... I don't connect with her like I do April." Roger looks up at Mark, pleading in his expression. "You're all about connections, you should understand."
"I do." Mark smiles, a bit oddly. "Hell, I'm married to a woman technically seven years in the future, and Collins is still with Angel, who is quite obviously dead." Beat. "You're going to have to explain it to Mimi, though."
"I know, and that's the big problem. I don't relish the thought of...."
"You mightn't, but if that's your choice, wouldn't it be better for her to hear it from you instead of from April, or from someone else?" Mark pauses. "And don't you dare think that you can avoid it by just hiding from talking to her about it."
"Fuck you."
"I know you, Roger. I know how you operate. Hell, I've lived with you for over five years now. If you start moping again, I will kick your ass out of here until you stop it."
"You won't."
"Yes I will. Deal with it, Roger. Please. If we have to pick up Mimi's pieces, I'd rather do it before we finish Soul Music."
"Right, yes. Sure. I'll get right on it."
Mark sighs and shakes his head. "You'd better. I'll kick your butt until you do."
"Fine." Roger goes to the closet and picks up the guitar.
Mark just watches Roger for a moment, then goes back downstairs. He knows Roger'll work it out in his own time.