1. Chapter 1 (1/2)

disclaimer: all jonathan's.

roger looked up from his guitar when he heard mark emerge from his bedroom. his face twisted in confusion that soon turned into laughter. "dork."

"what?" mark looked down at himself.

"what are you wearing?" roger stopped strumming, curious at his roommate's attire.

"pajamas," the filmmaker replied nonchalantly.

"why are they inside out?" roger inquired.

mark's blue eyes lit up behind his glasses and a smile decorated his face. "roger! it's going to snow tonight!"

roger just blinked. mark was so weird.

"you know, you wear your pajamas inside out to make it snow," he said, recalling his childhood.

"uh huh…" roger rolled his eyes. "are you three or twenty-three?"

"stop being such a funsucker," mark remarked. "c'mon, put yours on inside out." he seemed excited.

roger rolled his eyes and succumbed to mark's smile. "fine." removing the guitar from his lap, he yanked down his black flannel pants and flipped them inside out. he pulled them over his skinny legs quickly, the cold of the loft biting at his ankles. he pulled off his acdc shirt and turned it around before pulling it back over his head. "happy?"

"yes!" mark clapped his hands excitedly. "i really hope it snows."

"it snows every year," roger commented.

"yeah… but this year is… different."

--

"roger! wake up!"

roger opened his eyes to see mark hovering over him, a huge grin plastered on his face. "what?"

"it snowed!" the jewish boy sat down on the edge of roger's bed, shaking the musician until he looked out the window.

sure enough, white painted the entire street. cars were buried and the world was still. it was nearly impossible to get a car down the snow-covered street. "it's pretty," roger commented, turning towards mark. "are you going to film or something?"

mark shrugged. "i kind of want to… don't laugh okay."

"what?"

"i want to go play in it."

roger didn't laugh. instead he smiled. it was a reminiscent smile. he thought back to when he was a little kid and used to make snow angels with his big sister in their backyard. "where are you going to … play?"

"in the street, no cars can get by," mark replied, standing up. "well, i'm going to eat

eakfast and then go out." mark turned to leave.

"wait," roger climbed out of bed, "i want to come."

--

mark wrapped his blue and white scarf tightly around his neck before slipping on matching blue gloves. he pulled on his tan coat and a blue hat. "ready, rog?"

"hold on," roger pulled on his dark green scarf and gloves. he zippered up his black leather jacket and pulled on a green hat that went well his eyes over his growing

own hair. "ready… mark?"

mark had wandered into roger's room with his camera. "mark?"