Title: Today4U

Author: Logan M. (Lozateazer)

Disclaimer: Nope. Not the song, not the characters, nothing. All Jon Larson's. May he rest in peace, even though I'm fucking around with his life's work.

Summery: Another Mark and Angel reminiscence.

Notes: Not really a songfic, but more of Mark recalling things during Today4U

Rating: PG

~*~ Today4U ~*~

"A new member of the Alphabet City's avant-garde, Angel Dumott Shunard!"

***

"Nice camera…"

***

No… it couldn't be…

***

"Thanks… I'm Mark… and you are?"

***

She sashayed in, money in hand, and it all came flooding back.

***

Striking a pose, my new friend cooed, "Angel Dumott Shunard!"

***

I stared at Angel, completely in shock.

***

"Tell me, Mark, why have I never seen you in here before?"

***

She dared to glance at me.

***

"Because I've never been here before…"

***

Our eyes met, and we knew we both wanted our secret to stay secret.

***

"Oh really? And why not?"

***

"Today For You-Tomorrow For Me."

***

"Because I've always known I felt something for guys, but was always too scared to find out exactly what that was… I didn't want to be scared anymore."

Angel scooted closer, my pulse racing as she placed her hand on mine. "Mark… would you like to dance?"

Maureen's image pounded in my brain. She wouldn't approve. I couldn't expect her to. I mean, she was my girlfriend! Yet, with Angel's touch, the last thing that I wanted to think about was my girlfriend. Hell, at the time, she wasn't even my girlfriend! We had a fight, and were broken up… again. "I'd… I'd love to."

The pulse of the music sucked us in. We danced for hours, clinging to each other, swaying with the beat. After spending all that time with Roger's bands, I was able to tell that she was a drummer. Her movements, her mannerisms, it was obvious. It was beautiful. For the entire time we stayed at the club we didn't speak. We just danced, letting all of our frustrations melt away.

***

"Today For You-Tomorrow For Me"

***

Hot and panting, I gasped, "You-want-to-get-" I paused, catching my breath. "…out of here?"

She glared at me mischievously. "I was wondering when you'd ask…"

She grasped my hand, dragging me through the crowd. Finally we were free, laughing hysterically.

***

"And you should hear her beat!"

***

"So… tell me more about Mark…" She held my arm, leaning against me softly. We were walking through the park, and the moonlight shining down on her was breathtaking.

"Well, my full name is Mark Cohen. Yes, I'm Jewish. I grew up in Scarsdale with both of my parents and my older sister Cindy. I left home as soon as I could. I went to college at Brown University with my ex- friend and now-landlord Benny. About a month ago he got married, leaving all his morals behind for money." I took a breath, glancing at her. She was staring at me, not daring to speak. "And after school was finished, Benny and I moved here. I had-still do have-big dreams about becoming a filmmaker. The other guys living in my place are Roger, and he's my best friend. He plays guitar in a group called the Well Hungarians… and then there's Collins, who teaches at NYU. And on occasion there's a third person who stays with us…" I sighed, knowing I had to tell Angel. "My girlfriend… Maureen."

"Oh… you're… taken?"

"Not really… we broke up. I mean, we always break up… but this time I think it may be for good."

"Maureen, Maureen. OH! Ohmygosh! You're puppy!" I could only blink. She blushed, "Maureen's the diva at the lot, correct?" I nodded, laughing softly. "I've seen you there… always waiting on her hand and foot! It's like you're a puppy!"

"Yeah… that's me." I blushed, giggling. "So you're in the lot too?"

"Yeah. I'm the gu-one who plays the pickle tub."

My eyes were as wide as saucers. "I knew you were a drummer! I've seen you there… you're really good. So now that you know about me, tell me about you."

***

"You earned this on the street?"

***

Angel shrugged, "What do you want to know?"

"Anything… everything."

"Okay… everything. Let's see. When I was sixteen I left home. My parents found out that I was gay, and threw me out on the streets. Talk about unconditional love, huh?"

"Oh, Angel… I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, hon. I'm glad I'm gone." She smiled, shifting somewhat. "And since then I've been around… trying to survive and such… and as you discovered, my real passion is the drums. I couldn't afford any real ones, so I have my tub. I can get a pretty good beat on it. On a good day, I can get about fifty dollars."

"Wow… I'm impressed."

"Mark, sweetie, when it comes down to it, it barely let me scrape by. It's enough for food, an occasional hotel room, my AZT."

"Oh… AZT. You have AIDS, huh?"

"Um… yeah. How did you know? Not many people know what AZT is."

"A friend of mine is positive."

"I'm guessing you're going to want to go now."

"No. I know that everything will be okay."

***

"It was my lucky day today on Avenue A, when a lady in a limousine drove my way."

***

She leaned in and kissed my cheek. "Thank you."

Blushing like mad, I tried to be as Roger-y as I could. "So… your place or mine?"

"I don't exactly… have… a place."

"You're homeless?"

"In a word, yes."

I winced softly, taking her in my arms. "Oh, you poor baby… let's get you back to the loft."

She bit her lip nervously. "Will your friends be there?"

"No. Roger's out with the band, and Collins is at MIT giving a lecture… he's thinking about transferring there."

"Good… then I have you all to myself."

***

"She said 'Dahling-be a dear-haven't slept in a year! I need your help to make my neighbor's yappy dog disappear!'"

***

The next morning we awoke to find Roger and the rest of the Hungarians passed out on the living room floor. Angel wanted to leave, afraid to be discovered, but I assured her that the men… and occasional groupie… would not wake up for a long time… they were out cold.

***

"'This Akita-Evita-just won't shut up! I believe if you play nonstop that pup will breathe it's very last high-strung breath. I'm certain that cur will bark itself to death!"

***

"Thanks for the cereal."

"No problem… it's the least I can do." I took another bite of my Cap'n Crunch, blushing softly. After a moment of silence, I squeaked, "If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask. Do you need money for food or medication or anything?"

"No honey, you've done enough. And I know that if I need help you'll be here… you know, Today for me, tomorrow for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I laughed, mixing my cereal absent- mindedly.

"For your information, it means that if I help you, you help me."

"You helped me?"

"You ever happen to figure out your feelings towards men?" My face went red. "…And did I have anything to do with that?" Redder. "My point exactly."

***

"Today For You-Tomorrow For Me Today For You-Tomorrow For Me"

***

Suddenly Roger burst into the kitchen. Everything about him said he had a hangover. Red eyes, his brow furrowed in pain, moaning. At that moment I was glad that out of somewhere Angel had conjured some more normal clothing.

"Roger! Hey… you look like shit… you want some coffee? Tylenol?"

"Who the hell are you?"

Before Angel could speak, I answered. "A friend of mine… he's in a tough spot right now, and needed a place to crash. I figured it wouldn't matter, since everyone else in New York seems to be staying here too."

Roger glared at me, silent. Before he could think to react, I shoved a mug in his hand. He sat down at the table, grumbling under his breath.

"Nice to finally meet you, Roger. I'm Angel." My 'friend' extended a hand, which Roger didn't even turn to acknowledge.

"Angel's one fucking faggoty name."

***

"We agreed on a fee, a thousand-dollar guarantee-tax free-and a bonus if I trim her tree. Now who could foretell that it would go so well? As sure as I am here that dog is now in doggy hell!"

***

"Do you have a problem with that?"

He still had yet to look up since I gave him the coffee. He turned to me, taking the aspirin that I held out. Taking a long swig of the coffee, he downed the pills.

"I said, do you have a problem with my name?"

"Angel, please don't."

"No, Mark. I refuse to put up with this! If he can't deal with a faggot or two, then he can just go to hell!"

Roger mumbled into his coffee cup, "Meet you there, you queer." As if on cue, Angel's beeper went off. "See? You see, Mark? This one's already got one foot in the grave!" He turned to Angel, looking at him for the first time. "That's what you get for being a fag! AIDS cures homosexuality, you know."

***

"After an hour Evita, in all her glory, on the window ledge of that twenty- third story, like Thelma and Louise did when they got the blues, swan-dove into the courtyard of the Gracie Mews!"

***

"Fuck you. Fuck! You!"

"I wouldn't give you the pleasure!"

Tears were threatening to spill down Angel's face. "Mark, I'm leaving."

"No! NO! Angel, don't go! Please!"

"Can I talk to you, alone?" Together we headed to my room.

***

"Today For You-Tomorrow For Me Today For You-Tomorrow For Me"

***

I was crying. "I am so, so sorry. Roger's not usually like that… we have so many gay friends, and friends with AIDS… I'm just so sorry… I didn't mean for him to hurt you."

"Mark Cohen, I get shit like that all the time. I never let it get to me. That time it got to me. Do you know why? DO YOU KNOW WHY? Because you didn't fucking stand up for me! You just let it come!"

"When Roger's in that condition you can't-"

"Save it, Mark. I'm going."

***

"Back on the street, where I met my sweet, where he was moaning and groaning on the cold concrete. The nurse took him home for some Mercurochrome, and then I dressed his wounds and got him back on his feet!"

***

"Angel, please-"

"No. I'm not going to stay."

"But-but-Will I ever see you again?"

"No, Mark. You knew as well as I did when we came here last night that this was only a one-night thing. You'll move on, probably get back with the diva, forget about me…"

"I could never forget about you!"

"But you will. And that's okay. It was fun, but all things must come to an end. Our end is now." Then she picked up her things, and kissed me one last time. "Goodbye Mark."

"Good-goodbye, Angel."

Then she was gone.

***

"Sing it!"

***

"That fag gone?"

I wiped the tears from my face, laughing bitterly. Roger hadn't even noticed my tears when I returned. "Yes, Roger… he's gone."

"Good."

"What is with you? You're never like this around Collins!"

"Well Collins does a good job of playing it straight… that boy you had in here was an all-out fairy." He took another swig of his coffee. "I met a girl last night… her name was April." He reached out an arm to grab the bottle of aspirin, an angry red needle mark on his arm. I pretended not to notice.

***

"Today For You-Tomorrow For Me Today For You-Tomorrow For Me"

***

As the days went by, I was almost glad I never heard from Angel. I was even more relieved when I got my statement from the bank, saying that an Angel Shunard had cashed a $300 check that I had stowed in her things. Eventually Collins came back. He told us that he loved MIT, and that he would be going there in about five months, meaning he was leaving us. And I did go crawling back to Maureen, like usual. Our relationship lasted months after that. Roger, though, kept getting worse and worse. The drug use, April, everything. April moved in for a while, and the two of them spent all day in their happy little high. Roger's band broke up, he stopped playing guitar, and his life began to revolve around the smack. I just stayed back and watched, afraid of what would happen if I did anything.

***

"I said Today For You-Tomorrow For Me Today For You-"

***

A little over a year after I first met Angel was when she came back into my life. As Collins' boyfriend. I had never told Angel that Collins was gay. I probably was secretly hoping that if she never found out, she wouldn't pick him over me. But she did find out, and she did pick him. I don't blame her, though. Collins was perfect. Smart, funny, good-looking, loving… they were perfect together, and so much in love. I envied Collins.

***

Maureen's protest was about to begin. We were having sort of a 'get-to-know-each-other' type of thing. Collins and Roger were meeting Joanne, and I was meeting Angel, since we 'didn't have time at the Life Support meeting.' I found out later that Collins actually knew Joanne, and that they were old friends. Funny, huh? But Roger didn't remember Angel. I wasn't surprised.

"Hey…"

"Hey…"

Blushing, I stammered. "I'm Mark… and you are?"

Her face attempted to equal the scarlet that mine was. "I'm Angel."

I sighed softly, "Angel… how have you been?"

"Good… good… I never got to thank you for the money."

"It was no problem… you needed it more then I did."

"Yeah, but how much money did it leave you with?"

"Enough for Roger to get a bunch of smack…"

"Oh no! When did that start?"

"The night we…"

"Oh… Is he still…?"

"Six months of withdrawal. This is the first time he's been out."

"That's good. But… How are you, Mark? I haven't been able to spy on you and the diva for the past week or so! Where have you been?"

"Spy?"

"Spy, keep an eye out for you… same difference." She winked, laughing softly.

I couldn't help but laugh along. "Maureen's decided she's a lesbian. But besides that, I've been indifferent… taking care of Roger… he tested positive six months ago."

"So I guess he's not going to talk now, huh?"

"He's totally changed since you last saw him. I wouldn't worry."

"I won't."

"It's good to see you again, Angel… are you sticking around this time?"

"Yeah. I think that Collins might be the one."

"Good."

Murmurs softened, people started to get situated. The protest was starting. I gave Angel's hand a reassuring squeeze, and lifted my camera. "Maureen's performance…"

***

"-Tomorrow For Me!"

~fin~