Rrrrring. Sighing, Joanne reached for the phone next to the bed, not wanting it to wake
Maureen.
"Hello?"
"Joanne, it's Mark."
"Why, pray tell, are you calling me at 1:30 in the morning?"
"It's Roger. I - I think he may be . . . " The filmmaker's voice trembled.
The lawyer didn't need to hear the end of that statement. "Have you called Mimi?"
"I tried, but I kept getting a recording that says the phone's disconnected."
Joanne snarled. "Okay. Maureen and I will be right over. Then I'll go to Mimi's. Give us ten
minutes."
"Alright. But hurry, Joanne."
Hanging up, she reached over and shook Maureen. Groggy at first, Maureen perked up at
Roger's name, said in the tone Joanne used for bad news.
Ten minutes later, the couple pounded up the stairs to Mark and Roger's apartment. Leaving
Maureen there, Joanne returned to the car and headed for Mimi's, dialing Collins' number on her cell
phone at the same time.
"Collins? It's Joanne. Mark thinks Roger's almost gone. I'm on my way to Mimi's because we
can't get through on the phone."
Collins growled. "I'll meet you at her place. If I find Benny there, I swear I'll kill him."
They hung up. Joanne agreed with Collins. And Benny was just low enough to do it.
Fifteen minutes and countless epithets later, Joanne swung her car into a parking space and
sprinted to the elevator. The doors were barely open when she forced her way through and dashed
down the hall to Mini's door.
No one answered the breathless lawyer's persistant knocking. Deciding it was worth a shot,
she tried the knob. Disturbingly, it swung open, giving Joanna an unobstructed view of Mimi's living
room. Calling her friend's name, Joanne slowly entered the room. Pausing, she looked around.
Nothing seemed out of place.
"Mimi?" she called again, heading for the closed bedroom door. It, too, swung open at her
touch. And what she saw shocked her beyond belief.
Handcuffed to the bed in a spread eagle position was Mimi. To Joanne's eternal relief, she was
alive.
"Mimi, what the hell happened?" Joanne removed the gag before searching for some way to get
the handcuffs off.
"It was my old dealer. I've been clean for months, but he doesn't like that. So he broke in
yesterday while I was in the shower. He said I was his best customer and there was no way he was
letting me go. I resisted, so he left me here like this." The lawyer could hear the impending tears.
"Joanne, I think me may have broken my rib. It hurts to breath."
Finally finding a hammer and screwdriver, Joanne started attacking the bedposts. "I'll take you
to the hospital, hun. But I think you'll wanna come with me to Roger's first." Working furiously, Joanne
soon had Mimi free of the cuffs and helped her stand up.
"What's wrong with Roger? Is he okay?" Slowly and painfully, they got out of the apartment
and into the elevator.
"Mark doesn't think he has much time left. Maureen's there." Just as she was about to mention
Collins, the doors opened up, leaving them face to face with Collins himself.
Not asking any questions, Collins carefully picked up his injured friend and carried her to
Joanne's car. Placing her safely in the back seat, the computer genius hopped in the front seat. The
lawyer threw the vehicle into reverse and they were on their way.
Fifteen minutes, and three times as many epithets as before, later, Collins, Joanne, and Mimi
arrived at Roger's door.
"How is he?" Collins asked as Joanne got Mimi settled into a chair next to Roger.
"He has an incredible fever and drifts in and out of consciousness." Maureen shook her head
sadly. "He's done for. And between Mimi and Mark, the three of us have one hell of a task on our
hands."
Collins nodded. It was safe to say that keeping Roger's girlfriend and his life-long best friend
sane after his untimely death was going to be difficult. The computer genius pondered his two friends'
personalities.
Mark was ultrasensative, though he pretended not to be. It didn't take much to hurt him, and
when you did, he usually hid it. The young filmmaker was totally dependant on Roger for emotional
support.
Mimi was usually very independant. But it came to Roger, she was all about him. When they
fought, which was fairly often, it was pretty awful. But when they got along, they were the picture of
bliss. Mimi without Roger would be an awkward sight.
Bringing himself back to the present, Collins joined the others at Roger's side. The songwriter
was conscious at the moment, but Collins had a gut feeling that it'd be the last time that he was.
Joanne, her arms wrapped around Maureen, watched as Mimi tried to keep herself together for
Roger's sake. Mark cried openly, trembling with sobs he was barely suppressing. The lawyer
motioned with her head for Collins to come closer.
"Make sure that when this is over, you stay very close to Mark. He's likely to throw himself
from the window as soon as he realizes that Roger's gone for good." Collins nodded.
About ten minutes later, it was over. Maureen stood behind Mimi as she cried quietly. Both
Joanne and Collins moved to stand next to Mark.
Placing one hand on Mark's shoulder, Collins tried to comfort the filmmaker, who was quickly
coming apart at the seams. Wrenching away, Mark turned and tried to leave, but Collins caught him in
his powerful arms.
"No, Mark. Don't run away, don't hide inside yourself. You hafta deal with this now or it'll eat
you alive." He kept his grip despite Mark's constant struggling.
The distraught filmmaker was totally losing. "Get your hands off, you fucking faggot!"
Everyone froze. Collins blinked, torn between concentrating on Mark and reacting to his own
pain at the insult.
Releasing the smaller man, Collins turned away. "Fine. Joanne, Maureen, let me know when
you schedule the funeral." Patting Mimi on the shoulder, he left, Mark kneeling on the floor, hysterical.
In the wake Mark's explosion and Collins' departure, Maureen Joanne had their hands full
dealing with Mimi and Mark, and didn't have time to worry about the hurt computer genius. Maureen
stayed with Mimi, who simply cried without ceasing. That left Joanne with the task of controlling Mark.
After he finally cried himself, he stayed where he was, staring at the floor in front of him.
"Mark?" The lawyer carefully put one hand on the filmmaker's shoulder. "Mark, talk to me.
We're still here for you." No matter how much she coaxed, he would not talk. She sighed. This was
certain to be more challenging than any court case.
Maureen.
"Hello?"
"Joanne, it's Mark."
"Why, pray tell, are you calling me at 1:30 in the morning?"
"It's Roger. I - I think he may be . . . " The filmmaker's voice trembled.
The lawyer didn't need to hear the end of that statement. "Have you called Mimi?"
"I tried, but I kept getting a recording that says the phone's disconnected."
Joanne snarled. "Okay. Maureen and I will be right over. Then I'll go to Mimi's. Give us ten
minutes."
"Alright. But hurry, Joanne."
Hanging up, she reached over and shook Maureen. Groggy at first, Maureen perked up at
Roger's name, said in the tone Joanne used for bad news.
Ten minutes later, the couple pounded up the stairs to Mark and Roger's apartment. Leaving
Maureen there, Joanne returned to the car and headed for Mimi's, dialing Collins' number on her cell
phone at the same time.
"Collins? It's Joanne. Mark thinks Roger's almost gone. I'm on my way to Mimi's because we
can't get through on the phone."
Collins growled. "I'll meet you at her place. If I find Benny there, I swear I'll kill him."
They hung up. Joanne agreed with Collins. And Benny was just low enough to do it.
Fifteen minutes and countless epithets later, Joanne swung her car into a parking space and
sprinted to the elevator. The doors were barely open when she forced her way through and dashed
down the hall to Mini's door.
No one answered the breathless lawyer's persistant knocking. Deciding it was worth a shot,
she tried the knob. Disturbingly, it swung open, giving Joanna an unobstructed view of Mimi's living
room. Calling her friend's name, Joanne slowly entered the room. Pausing, she looked around.
Nothing seemed out of place.
"Mimi?" she called again, heading for the closed bedroom door. It, too, swung open at her
touch. And what she saw shocked her beyond belief.
Handcuffed to the bed in a spread eagle position was Mimi. To Joanne's eternal relief, she was
alive.
"Mimi, what the hell happened?" Joanne removed the gag before searching for some way to get
the handcuffs off.
"It was my old dealer. I've been clean for months, but he doesn't like that. So he broke in
yesterday while I was in the shower. He said I was his best customer and there was no way he was
letting me go. I resisted, so he left me here like this." The lawyer could hear the impending tears.
"Joanne, I think me may have broken my rib. It hurts to breath."
Finally finding a hammer and screwdriver, Joanne started attacking the bedposts. "I'll take you
to the hospital, hun. But I think you'll wanna come with me to Roger's first." Working furiously, Joanne
soon had Mimi free of the cuffs and helped her stand up.
"What's wrong with Roger? Is he okay?" Slowly and painfully, they got out of the apartment
and into the elevator.
"Mark doesn't think he has much time left. Maureen's there." Just as she was about to mention
Collins, the doors opened up, leaving them face to face with Collins himself.
Not asking any questions, Collins carefully picked up his injured friend and carried her to
Joanne's car. Placing her safely in the back seat, the computer genius hopped in the front seat. The
lawyer threw the vehicle into reverse and they were on their way.
Fifteen minutes, and three times as many epithets as before, later, Collins, Joanne, and Mimi
arrived at Roger's door.
"How is he?" Collins asked as Joanne got Mimi settled into a chair next to Roger.
"He has an incredible fever and drifts in and out of consciousness." Maureen shook her head
sadly. "He's done for. And between Mimi and Mark, the three of us have one hell of a task on our
hands."
Collins nodded. It was safe to say that keeping Roger's girlfriend and his life-long best friend
sane after his untimely death was going to be difficult. The computer genius pondered his two friends'
personalities.
Mark was ultrasensative, though he pretended not to be. It didn't take much to hurt him, and
when you did, he usually hid it. The young filmmaker was totally dependant on Roger for emotional
support.
Mimi was usually very independant. But it came to Roger, she was all about him. When they
fought, which was fairly often, it was pretty awful. But when they got along, they were the picture of
bliss. Mimi without Roger would be an awkward sight.
Bringing himself back to the present, Collins joined the others at Roger's side. The songwriter
was conscious at the moment, but Collins had a gut feeling that it'd be the last time that he was.
Joanne, her arms wrapped around Maureen, watched as Mimi tried to keep herself together for
Roger's sake. Mark cried openly, trembling with sobs he was barely suppressing. The lawyer
motioned with her head for Collins to come closer.
"Make sure that when this is over, you stay very close to Mark. He's likely to throw himself
from the window as soon as he realizes that Roger's gone for good." Collins nodded.
About ten minutes later, it was over. Maureen stood behind Mimi as she cried quietly. Both
Joanne and Collins moved to stand next to Mark.
Placing one hand on Mark's shoulder, Collins tried to comfort the filmmaker, who was quickly
coming apart at the seams. Wrenching away, Mark turned and tried to leave, but Collins caught him in
his powerful arms.
"No, Mark. Don't run away, don't hide inside yourself. You hafta deal with this now or it'll eat
you alive." He kept his grip despite Mark's constant struggling.
The distraught filmmaker was totally losing. "Get your hands off, you fucking faggot!"
Everyone froze. Collins blinked, torn between concentrating on Mark and reacting to his own
pain at the insult.
Releasing the smaller man, Collins turned away. "Fine. Joanne, Maureen, let me know when
you schedule the funeral." Patting Mimi on the shoulder, he left, Mark kneeling on the floor, hysterical.
In the wake Mark's explosion and Collins' departure, Maureen Joanne had their hands full
dealing with Mimi and Mark, and didn't have time to worry about the hurt computer genius. Maureen
stayed with Mimi, who simply cried without ceasing. That left Joanne with the task of controlling Mark.
After he finally cried himself, he stayed where he was, staring at the floor in front of him.
"Mark?" The lawyer carefully put one hand on the filmmaker's shoulder. "Mark, talk to me.
We're still here for you." No matter how much she coaxed, he would not talk. She sighed. This was
certain to be more challenging than any court case.