After the End

Chapter 1

After the End chapter 1
March 21st 1994. 1148am Eastern Standard Time.
Mark sat on his dusty couch and wondered how he ended up like this, all alone, with his best friends gone for good.
He didn't need his camera to recall the memories, he remembered them just as vividly. He was afraid of this, he always had. Of being alone. There was no way around it, he knew the people he loved would leave, and he'd be the one to survive. Yet he wouldn't change it for the world.
Angel had been the first one to go, four years ago. Then it was Mimi, about a month after she came back. Collins, six months after. Then it was just him and Roger, fighting against the clock counting down to Roger's demise. Roger...Oh, Roger. Mark couldn't believe that his best friend, was gone forever. It was just a week ago when he finally succumbed to the virus. Mark had been there, Roger was all he had, and Roger only had him. Roger was pale and thin, he lost thirty pounds. His hair, then cut short, was always drenched in sweat. Mark held him as he died, never leaving his side.
He missed the raggedy blonde and his guitar, constantly playing Musetta's Waltz to procrastinate, and searching for the right chord and the right lyrics. By now, he was hunched over and had his head in his hands. He felt like his insides were crumbling, everything he knew was gone.
To feel closer to his friends, he decided to go to where they loved. He still went to Life Support, even though the group constantly changed. He went to the park Mimi used to spend hours at with Roger. He even began taking some classes at NYU, and decided to finally get his degree, where Collins used to teach, even though Collins would've been a 1000 times better teacher than his professors.
But Roger, there was nothing to do to feel close to him other than watching the hundreds of hours of film Mark had gotten of them. He gotten more shots of Roger than of anyone else. Maybe it was cause in the film, he could never truly lose Roger, his best friend. But having only the film made it over, officially. He was alone. And Mark didn't dare to touch his guitar. All of his possessions were in the exact place they were in the day he died. Except for his jacket, which Mark wore occasionally to maybe get a whiff of Roger's now fading scent.
He sat up and wiped the tear stains off of his face. Contemplating calling Maureen and Joanne, he walked over to the phone. But he changed his mind, they were probably busy uptown doing who knows what... Instead, he called Benny. He didn't pick up, which he figured would happen. He let it go to voicemail. "Hello you have reached Benny. Leave your name and number after the beep and I'll get back to you."
He hesitated a moment, choking on his words, unsure as to what he should say. "B-Benny. Hey, look. I know it's been a while and we left on bad terms but everyone else is gone and I'm all alone. It's only me and I really need someone. Please, Benny..." he could feel himself on the verge of a breakdown. He knew, that no matter what, he'd be the one to survive. He'd be the one to have all the ones he loved die. And hey, he wouldn't have traded them for the world.
"Mark loves his work, Mark hides behind his work, Mark lives for his work" Roger once yelled at him out of anger. But that was because he had to capture everything on film because he would be the one to live through everything, and needed to have it for when his 3D IMAX of a mind failed him.
Slowly, he made his way back to the couch, and grabbed Rogers coat off of his chair. He put the jacket on and laid down on the couch. Without the constant presence of his friends, the loft was cold and empty. It used to be so alive in friendship and laughter and fun. The walls were like a tomb now. A tomb he couldn't bare to be trapped in. He began to cry, his sobs and pleas echoing throughout the room. He remembered when Roger was like this, after April died and going through withdrawal and after Mimi died. And Mark had always been there for him, taking the punches and screams and crying. But who was there for Mark now? He just lay there, staring at the walls. If Collins was here, he'd tell him to get off his butt and film something. "There are stories to be captured and history in the making happening right now and you're in here sulking, go out there and get to it!"
Also, he made a promise to Roger. A promise that he would get out of that shit hole neighborhood, go make history, live his life to the fullest, live a life full of memories enough for the both of them. To live the life Roger couldn't.