December 25, 1989. The day she danced her way into my life it changed forever. Everyone's life changed once Angel had become a part of it.
She must have been waiting outside the loft for ages in that costume, fielding all sorts of looks from our neighbors, but she didn't care. She never let other people's opinions get her down. All she wanted to do that day was make the best damn entrance she could, and damned if she wasn't going to do it. So she waited, for who knows long, until Collins gave her intro and she made her grand entrance, and performed a routine that I would never, could never, forget.
It's incredible, even when talking about the death of someone's dog, she could make me smile and laugh. She could bring the joy out of anything, no matter how depressing, and we were all drawn to that. It was almost intoxicating, watching her dance through the loft, and I could only hope that no one noticed how my eyes lingered as she moved, or how intently I watched her.
"Angel, why do you do this?"
"Do what honey?" her stilettos clicked against the sidewalk in a soothing rhythm as we headed towards the Life Café. Angel had just bought a homeless man a meal with what little money she had managed to earn on the street that day.
"Give everything away, all the time. I'm not against it, I think it's great." I amended quickly, not wanting to sound like a selfish prick, "but why? Oh wait a sec." I wound up my camera and pointed it at her, waiting her answer. I could never get enough footage of her.
She struck a pose, looking fresh from a clothing magazine before relaxing. "Honey, I give because I can. I won't be around forever and I want to make sure I've done some good in the world before I go. No day but today." She reminded me as she grinned, and continued to walk down the street.
I stood there with my mouth hanging open, the camera whirring away while I watched her walk happily down the street humming to herself. Realizing I had stopped moving she turned around with a bemused expression.
"You coming? Or do you feel like catching a cold?"
I shook my head clear of thoughts and stored them away for later, running after her, and laughing at myself.
She was always so selfless, so caring, always putting everyone else before her own needs. I loved her, how could you not? When she gave, and sang, and danced through the world; she made everyone feel so good, so valuable, so worthwhile.
We were standing on a street corner, I was filming Angel drumming as well as the crowd that had gathered to watch her. She was wearing this outrageous neon yellow dress that just dragged your eyes right to her and made her seem so full of energy. Collins came running up the street and swooped her into his arms right in the middle of a complicated number, making her squeal in delight as he pulled her through the air before kissing her passionately.
I always felt guilty for that rush of jealousy I always felt, that cold ball in the pit of my stomach. I knew that Angel was Collins' angel, and would never, could never, share my feelings for her. Could never love me like I loved her and so I made sure she never found out.
The year she came into my life was the best I'd ever had, the dancing and laughter she brought was precious. She was the laughter and joy; and when she died, it did too. When she collapsed in the subway, we knew that this time she would not be leaving the hospital. We all knew it, but none of us wanted to admit it.
Angel lay on the bed, his fingernails a shiny blue, with Collins laying beside him, arms wrapped around his thin frame. I sat in a chair across from them, feeling awkward without my camera. Even if I could have steadied my hands enough to hold the camera, there was no way I'd have been able to film these last painful moments. I didn't want to have to remember Angel like this, sick and dying in a hospital bed.
Slowly, I reached out and gently took his hand in mine. I was trying to be reassuring and to show him that I cared, although not how much I cared. I had long ago promised to myself that Angel could never know, could never see just how much her death was tearing me apart inside.
At my touch, he turned to me and smiled. Even wracked with pain he could make me feel special, even while he was dying he could make me feel wanted.
"Oh, honey… don't cry." He shifted his hand slightly under mine, giving it a weak squeeze that probably contained all the strength he could muster. Trying not to break, I gave him that dorky grin of mine to show I would be alright, to show that I was an idiot.
"You'll be fine." Never, not a possibility without him. "Someone's gotta sing Mark. Someone's gotta sing, and someone's gotta dance. You don't need me for that, you just needed me to show you all how."
When she died, it was as if my world had collapsed. I locked myself away from everyone emotionally and cried like a child whenever I was alone, slamming myself against the walls of my room to try to stop the pain. To this day, I can't even fathom how much Collins died inside that day, she was his light and he was hers. I was just a bystander, so how could I possibly understand his pain. I stayed as strong as I could for Collins and Roger, the camera a beautiful shield against the world and I thought I had them all fooled. I was the fool. When Roger threw my actions at me, he struck deeper than he'll ever know, and Angel's words came back to me.
Someone had to sing, someone had to keep our family together, and Angel, my love who was never mine, had passed that job onto me.