A/N Hiya I'm back with chapter 2

Disclaimer – Not mine

He'd gotten used to it. He had to really.

Coming home to an empty apartment was torture for a company-loving guy like the one Brad used to be. Times change.

 Throwing his denim across the back of the easy chair Brad noticed two things, the broken window and his brother sitting on the couch.

 "Hey Brad." Mark greeted him hollowly.

 "Mark what the hell are you doing here?" Brad asked icily.

 "Gee don't welcome me or nothing nice like that big bro." Mark mocked him insolently.

 "Mark I'm serious why aren't you at home?" Brad asked standing in front of Marks black clad form slumped on the couch, his hands on his hips.

 Mark raised his brown eyes smirking cockily. "Because my moms crazy, my dads a drunk and my eldest brother ran out and left me, all because my selfish, perfect other brother decided to die!" Mark finished shouting now.

 Brad backhanded him across the face.

 Mark raised his head shocked, "No Mark don't look at me shocked you had that coming. I can understand you being mad at me I'm a coward. But I will not let you sit there and blame it on Randy. And frankly your drugs problem isn't anyone's fault – except yours."

 When Mark Taylor stood to full height he was as tall as Brad, maybe a little taller, and for Brad talking to a younger brother who could look you in the eye had never made him comfortable, he'd never had that problem with Randy.

 "Shut up Brad." Mark replied casually stepping away. Brad watched him disbelievingly where'd the meaningful conversation go?

 "Mark-" Brad started

 "Whoa, whoa, whoa who the hell and what the hell?" Jesse Hunter, Brad's roommate asked bewildered as he stepped into the apartment

 "Hey Jesse uh this is my brother Mark, Mark Taylor Jesse Hunter, Jesse, Mark and don't worry he'll fix the window. Won't you Mark." Not a question an order.

 "Sure Brad I'd be glad to." Mark drawled syrupy sweet

 "Hey Mark it's fine, my buddy Billie can fix it."

 "Yeah who's he?"

 "She. And she's in my Western Culture class, her majors carpentry though." Jesse explained tossing his backpack onto the opposite couch.

 "So what's yours Brad? Major I mean." Mark asked his eyebrows dipping inwards.

 "Pre-Med." Brad replied through gritted teeth.

 "How bout you Jesse?"

 "Art." Jesse replied simply

 "Wow I'd love to take film classes I wanna be a film director one day." Mark said playing the wholesome American teen, just here visiting his brother.

 "Yeah, our other roommate does that, Media Studies." Jesse informed him. "Nicky you should talk to him."

 "Yeah I think I will."  Mark replied. "So there are you, Brad and Nicky?"

 "Nicky Lawrence, yeah, and Jack Callaway he's a pre-law though."

 "That must make rent easy." Mark observed.

 "Yeah right, " Jesse laughed, "Between college courses and living, rent moneys kinda thin especially here in LA, and an apartment like this in the centre of town, we've all got jobs – which shit reminds me I've got a shift in twenty minutes and I gotta shower see you in a few!" Jesse called as he disappeared into the bathroom.

 "Yeah nice meeting you!" Mark called after him. "You got yourself set here Brad, good apartment good friends, no family to hassle you, and I bet you've got a girlfriend." Mark said mockingly. "Not like me huh?" And almost as a sadistic afterthought Mark added, "It's like you stole Randy's picture perfect life. Well the one he would have had anyway."

 "Shut up Mark" Brad replied casually mirroring Marks carefree tone he had before Jesse entered.

 Marks eyes flashed for a second before abruptly sitting down again, Brad watched him through narrowed eyes, "When are you going home Mark?" he asked levelly.

 "I'm not, I'll stay here with you." Mark looked at Brad, his eyes suddenly open and scared, and Brad saw the brother who died with Randy all that time ago, "I want what you've got Brad." Brad smiled and sat down next to him,

 "You can sleep on the couch, I'll enrol you in West LA High, you get in one fight, play truant, or get in any trouble you're going home got that?" Brad asked his hand on Marks shoulder.

 "Thanks big bro." Mark replied simply.

 "It's what Randy would have done." Brad explained.

 "Yeah maybe but now it's what Brad would do." Mark corrected sounding drained and tired.

 "Well I've got homework, I'll bet anything Jack'll stay at Nancy's tonight, Nicky won't be back for ages he's got a project due he'll probably be in the editing room until they physically remove him and Jesse's on the late shift at Strarbucks so you get settled in okay?" Brad told him.

 "Sure thanks Brad."

 "No problem, just promise me one thing Mark, you'll try." Brad asked.

Once again Brad saw that raw emotion shining in Marks eyes, that were the same blue as his own and Randys, "I'll try as hard as I can Brad I promise."

 "Good okay well I'm gonna hit the books." Brad told him standing up, "No I'm gonna go talk to Darla." He amended.

 "Darla?"

 "The girlfriend you mentioned."

 "Oh"

 As Brad turned to leave the room he thought of one more thing, swivelling round he frowned, "Mark?"

 "Yeah Brad?"

 "And no more drugs."

 "No more drugs, ever." Mark replied biting his lip, his eyes downcast.

 Brad smiled and entered his room, dialling Darla's number the smile was replaced by a frown, maybe Darla would know what the hell was going on, she was a phsyc student maybe she could explain Marks sudden huge change of heart. And maybe she could sort out his own head.

A/N Okay so is Mark faking it or is a real cry for help?

Next chapter hopefully soon (same for my other story)