A/N: And here's the last of my RENT one-shots for the moment, once again centered around Mark. Of the three I've posted, I think this one is my favorite. If you squint at this one you could see a slight Mark/Roger slash relationship, but it could just as easily be merely a friendship. Let me know if you find any errors and point them out to me! Enjoy!
He had never liked her.
Despite the fact that his best friend was in love with her, despite the fact that she had practically moved into the loft after they first got together, he had never liked her. She was an okay girl, bright, friendly, and he could see why Roger had loved her. But whenever he had looked at her, he only felt cold on the inside. Cold and hard.
She had turned his best friend into a stranger. Seduced him, corrupted him, gotten him addicted to crack. The first time he ever walked in on Roger inserting the needle smoothly into his skin, his stomach had churned and he had turned around, walking away, trying to erase the image from his mind.
He wasn't a fool. Roger had been far from innocent before her, and it hadn't been as though she put a gun to his head and forced him to shoot up. It had been a willing descent into darkness.
But he blamed her anyway, even if it wasn't fair, or logical, or reasonable. He blamed her for everything that had gone wrong.
When the test came back positive he had tried to comfort a shaking Roger, saying soothing words that meant absolutely nothing. That little piece of paper was a death sentence and they all knew it.
And when she killed herself, he cried.
But not for her.
He couldn't bring himself to give a damn about her, even after she was dead. He couldn't bring himself to shed a tear for her, and he certainly couldn't bring himself to forgive her. He cried for Roger. For the look on his face when he saw her body, for the broken, shell of a person he had been.
April showers bring May flowers.
But April brought only destruction.
And for that—for that he hated her.