(Untitled)

[one__song]

For once, numbness wasn't setting in on its own. Two joints and a swig from a jug of moonshine long-ago commandeered from someplace or another, Roger was still feeling the guilt, the misery, the deep hurt. Fights with April had been either inconsequential or incoherent (especially the latter, toward the end), fights with Mark were... explosive,

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[drama_maureen]

Maureen walked into the hub because she recognized the back of Roger's head. She was immediately glad that she looked her best, because it was always nice to have a high confidence level when you were about to chew someone out. She was wearing her favorite red dress - curve hugging, lots of cleavage, and red high highs that did amazing things to her calves.

She slid onto the stool next to Roger, crossed her legs, and smiled sweetly.

"You are such a big fucking moron."

[one__song]

That was the wrong thing to say. Granted, there were hundreds of combinations of words that would have fallen under that same category, but the words and the person uttering them was the wrong one-two punch.

He was out on words- words were fucking retarded and never did what he wanted time to- so he just pushed off from the bar and headed for the door.

[drama_maureen]

"Roger," Maureen groaned, and slid off of the stool to hurry after him. "Look, given the condition that I just left one of my best friends in I felt kind of obligated to open with that. But now I want to hear your side. Okay? You look like shit!" When he didn't turn right away she added in an almost plaintive, pleading tone, "I know what it's like to be the moron remember?"

[one__song]

Best friend? All of a sudden she and Prior were best friends? Of course, that was Maureen for you, ever present in the face of the possibility of great drama. Of course Prior was her best friend, now, because it put her in an awkward position, and there was nothing Maureen loved more than thrusting herself in the middle of a situation so that she was a part of it.

Or maybe she'd been talking about someone else.

"Yeah, I know, which is exactly why you're not gonna be calling me a moron," Roger said, despite the fact that he was. He'd been reamed by Prior, was doubtlessly going to be reamed by Belize, and worst of all was the situation with Mark. Jesus fucking Christ.

His hands jammed through his hair, possibly tugging back a little too hard to be healthy. He wanted out. Worse than that: for the first time, he wanted off the island. Fuck three meals a day and fuck free meds and fuck everyone he knew that he would never see again because home may not be warm or free, but it was a place where none of this had ever happened.

[drama_maureen]

Actually, it was one of her best friends, and it wasn't as if there were many here to choose from on the island - but it was the sort of exaggeration that Maureen was prone to make anyway because, yes, she did enjoy being right in the thick of things.

However, in this case... she really was worried about Prior. And now she was kind of worried about Roger.

"Hey, at least I'm admitting I was a moron," Maureen pointed out. "Doesn't mean I'd change anything. You can't help who you love. You can help cheating, though. I'd take that part back if I could. I've just never been a particularly patient person."

She paused and added, "I really do want to hear your side of it. I mean, if you want to talk about it."

[one__song]

Oh, please. At this point, Roger just wanted to throw her a glare and leave, but that was useless, since she was going to follow him with her arms out and begging to know the scoop. Roger was just the cover of her latest National Enquirer, and while that was amusing when it was someone else, when it was him, it was downright obnoxious.

"What is there to talk about, Maureen?" Roger asked, whirling around a few steps from the door. It was becoming clear that his time to walk about was not then, at least not yet. "I'm a dick, I did the unthinkable, and worse than that, I did what you do. And you can't talk about it in the past tense like that, Maureen, because the only reason you haven't fucked up and fucked off is because you're not with anybody right now, so if you could just kick out of that saddle on your high horse, it would make this conversation a fuck of a lot less tedious." Not that he was having the conversation, but he would consider it- maybe- if she'd come the fuck off it.

[drama_maureen]

Maureen stopped following him, hanging back a little. She couldn't hide a slight expression of hurt at that as she said, "Well the reason I'm not with anybody is because no on wants me, so no, I'm not exactly feeling very high at the moment. Fine, don't talk to me if you don't want to. Sorry if I thought I might understand."

[one__song]

Another eyeroll and Roger was ignoring the pout and the big eyes.

"No, I don't want to talk about it. That's the whole point! And I don't take comfort in knowing we have this in common, which, by the way, we don't because I--" His hands jammed through the salt-wrecked strands of his hair, jaw clenched, never in a million fucking years planning on finishing that sentence.

[drama_maureen]

Maureen just looked at him for a second, as if only now realizing...

"You don't like me," she said, sounding surprised.

[one__song]

Well, that certainly got the frown off of Roger's face, and the self-pity rose to doubt and a face that suggested 'are you fucking stupid?'

"Are you fucking serious?" It was a legitimate question.

[drama_maureen]

And then Maureen did something that she rarely did.

She blushed.

"I - nevermind," she stammered, and then started walking again, pushing past him towards the door of the hub.

[one__song]

In the face of everything- the blush, the stammer, the initial question- Roger blinked, and then again, and then was off after her.

"No, really, Maureen, where the fuck did that come from?" When the time was right, he'd have to remember to applaud her for her startling ability to make this all about her.

[drama_maureen]

She spun around and faced him, something between embarrassment and frustration on her face. "Look, you don't have to talk to me! I thought you might want to talk to someone, but I get that you don't want that someone to be me. So go back and talk to the bottom of the moonshine bottle instead."

[one__song]

OK, that time had presented himself.

"I hate to break it to you, Maureen," he began, backing up a step or two, but not in fear so much as the intense desire to distance himself from the insanity, "but this has literally nothing to do with you."

[drama_maureen]

"I know that," she snapped. "Somehow I think I'd remember you consulting me about fucking around on Prior. I just thought you might want to talk to someone who knows what it's like to completely fuck things up. But you don't, so I'm leaving."

[one__song]

Leaving was a fine idea, but at this point, Roger was just stalking after her, chasing her out, making sure she checked her dignity at the door.

"And is that your personal objective opinion?" He scowled, practically flouncing after her.