Categories > Theatre > Rent > Songbook of Roger Davis
Deserted In Hell
0 reviewsRoger Arrives in New York, ah home sweet home...a special stranger enters his life..First of Two peices.
0Unrated
Deserted in Hell
Looking at the street signs Roger realized he was lost. He hadn't been to New York in a few years, he hadn't really ventured the city then. The huge and unfamiliar buildings loomed in the twilight like great steel monsters. He walked a few more blocks being pushed and shoved this way and that. He didn't notice. He never did.
He leaned against a lamp post, trying to catch his breath; which he'd lost despite not running. Looking around he tried to find a place or a person to get directions from. All he seen were sneering faces and closed coffee shops He was shivering despite the heat of the autumn night. He hadn't had a fix in days, he wanted one. Badly.
'No, cant get one can you Rogge..? No cash, No stash'
"Hey Hon, you lost?"
He looked around and seen... someone, a friendly and warm face staring back at him. He nodded , rubbing his hands together in an attempt to keep his hands from slowly turning into ice.
"Where you headed?"
He fumbled in his jacket pocket and handed the worn postcard over watching intently as this complete stranger stared at the address a moment, then flashed a grin and handed the postcard back.
"You're on the wrong side of town, need me to show you?"
He liked this person. Very nice, so far. He nodded again not being able to do much else, he stood on his wobbly legs and followed the black-haired person wearing a too bright red coat wordlessly through an endless maze of streets.
What seemed like hours later, he couldn't feel his legs and was using the corner of the dingy-looking music studio to hold himself up. He noticed there was an empty lot next door. Then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. Realizing he was being helped up the stairs he found his legs and tried to walk more firmly. Slowly they made their way up the stairs; around the third floor he finally found his voice.
"Thanks.."
Smiling again, the stranger tucked his..? her? Hair behind...her ear and helped him all the way up to Mark's door and left with an "Anytime Hon, anytime"
Roger knocked on the door and he heard a chair scrape across the floor and "Just a second!" from inside. His vision began to blur and the hall became a long shadow of brown and dingy light he grabbed the door frame to keep himself upright. Soon the door creaked open, as Mark let out a surprised cry of "Roger!" he was unable to hold the door any longer and collapsed into the loft unconscious.
Looking at the street signs Roger realized he was lost. He hadn't been to New York in a few years, he hadn't really ventured the city then. The huge and unfamiliar buildings loomed in the twilight like great steel monsters. He walked a few more blocks being pushed and shoved this way and that. He didn't notice. He never did.
He leaned against a lamp post, trying to catch his breath; which he'd lost despite not running. Looking around he tried to find a place or a person to get directions from. All he seen were sneering faces and closed coffee shops He was shivering despite the heat of the autumn night. He hadn't had a fix in days, he wanted one. Badly.
'No, cant get one can you Rogge..? No cash, No stash'
"Hey Hon, you lost?"
He looked around and seen... someone, a friendly and warm face staring back at him. He nodded , rubbing his hands together in an attempt to keep his hands from slowly turning into ice.
"Where you headed?"
He fumbled in his jacket pocket and handed the worn postcard over watching intently as this complete stranger stared at the address a moment, then flashed a grin and handed the postcard back.
"You're on the wrong side of town, need me to show you?"
He liked this person. Very nice, so far. He nodded again not being able to do much else, he stood on his wobbly legs and followed the black-haired person wearing a too bright red coat wordlessly through an endless maze of streets.
What seemed like hours later, he couldn't feel his legs and was using the corner of the dingy-looking music studio to hold himself up. He noticed there was an empty lot next door. Then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. Realizing he was being helped up the stairs he found his legs and tried to walk more firmly. Slowly they made their way up the stairs; around the third floor he finally found his voice.
"Thanks.."
Smiling again, the stranger tucked his..? her? Hair behind...her ear and helped him all the way up to Mark's door and left with an "Anytime Hon, anytime"
Roger knocked on the door and he heard a chair scrape across the floor and "Just a second!" from inside. His vision began to blur and the hall became a long shadow of brown and dingy light he grabbed the door frame to keep himself upright. Soon the door creaked open, as Mark let out a surprised cry of "Roger!" he was unable to hold the door any longer and collapsed into the loft unconscious.
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