Categories > Theatre > Rent > Good Intentions0 Reviews
Mark tests positive.
This isn't fucking happening.
Mark stares at the paper in his hands, Roger hovering over him, looking worried. That's familiar, in a weird, backwards way. Just a couple of years ago, he was here with Roger, looking over his shoulder at an identical piece of paper.
Only one word stands out, and it's just like then... Just fucking like two years ago, only this time it's him, not Roger, this time he can't just detach, trying not to feel relieved deep down that he's still okay.
He reads it again and again, trying to figure out when this could've happened... How this could've happened. He's been careful. He's been so fucking careful...
Maureen. It had to have been. He hasn't been with anyone else.
He doesn't realize he's crying until the first drops hit the paper.
Roger's arm is suddenly around his shoulders, and it helps. Roger knows, Roger's been there, and he won't be alone through this, and that makes things okay enough that he can look up and force words past the lump in his throat.
"Let's get home. I've got to call Maureen..."
Roger nods knowingly, not even pretending to be surprised. On reflection, it was probably obvious. He never could say no to her, and now he's going to die because of it.
As he looks up into Roger's concerned expression, all he can think is that at least there's one person in his life he can still trust. His best friend. His brother, in everything but genetics. Just knowing he's there is more of a relief than he could ever say.
Because, really, where the hell would he be without Roger?