"Mail call!" Mimi said, coming through the door of the loft. Collins, Angel, and Roger were already inside, sitting around doing nothing in particular. Roger had his guitar on his lap like a security blanket, and Collins and Angel were sitting on the couch, Angel in Collins's lap. Mimi plopped herself down on the armrest of the big, squashy chair that Roger was sitting in, leafing through about five or six different letters.

"What'd you get this time, another misdirected letter from Iowa?" Angel asked, leaning forward to take a look at the mail in Mimi's hand. Mimi snickered and shook her head.

"Magazine subscription, magazine subscription, bill for something or other," she crumpled the bill without opening it and dropped it casually on the floor, "raffle tickets, a tempting offer to get my back shaved," the others laughed, "and this." The last envelope was square instead of oblong, with a handwritten address and light stains of something. Mimi glanced at the address, then looked back as her eyes narrowed with recollection. Angel, still leaning forward, caught a glimpse of the address.

"Hey chica, I know that address from somewhere…hmm…wait, I remember! That's your old house!" Angel exclaimed just as Mimi stuffed the letter into her pocket.

"Hey, read it!" Roger said, snagging the tip of the letter and drawing it out of her pocket. Mimi grabbed for it, but Roger moved it out of her reach, digging his fingertips under the seal.

"Roger!"

"Rog, you can't do that, it's Mimi's," said Collins, rolling his eyes and snatching the letter from Roger. He offered it to Mimi and she took it, glaring at Roger.

"C'mon, chica, just open the damn thing. Maybe someone died and you're getting money." Mimi sighed, but heeded Angel, opening the seal and drawing the badly folded paper out. Straightening it, she started to scan the cramped, rough handwriting. At first her expression was one of scorn, and she was already planning to throw the letter away after a couple sentences. But as Mimi read, her eyes got huge and her mouth dropped open.

"Mimi, everything ok? What's up?" Roger asked, but she ignored him. Horror flitted across her face, and then she crumpled the letter, throwing it to the floor and burying her hands in her face. Alarmed, Angel touched her shoulder.

"Girl, what did that thing say?"

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit shit shit shit!" Mimi stood up suddenly and started pacing back and forth, her face buried in her palms. Angel, Collins, and Roger watched her, concerned.

"Mimi, what's wrong? Sit down and tell us, girl, it can't be that bad." Roger got up and took Mimi's arm, bringing her to the chair she had just left. She rocked back and forth, muttering "oh shit" under her breath.

"Honey, calm down. You're okay, it's—"

"No Angel, I'm not okay, oh fuck, I am in so much trouble." Mimi started slamming her hand into her forehead, saying in time with the smacking, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Roger jumped up and grabbed her hand, keeping her from smacking herself again. Mimi was breathing hard now, and her eyes looked wild.

"Mimi, for god's sake, tell us what's wrong!" Collins said, eyeing her like she was a lunatic. Mimi looked at him, then took a deep breath and, in a voice like she was watching the Apocalypse, said, "My mother's coming to visit."

Silence. Then Angel said tentatively, "Honey, your mom's not that bad. She let you stay after you came to New York, and as far as I remember, she was really nice. Why are you stressed?"

"Oh god, Angel, you don't know my mom. I mean, you don't know my mom. She's…she can make you do stuff." Mimi knew she sounded stupid, and her friends were looking at her like they were considering finding a straight jacket. Mimi took a deep breath and tried to explain.

"My mom has this thing…if she's not happy with something, she can become Satan on earth until she thinks it's good. And if she comes here and finds out that things aren't what she thinks they are, I swear to god she'll make me go back home. She'll make me!"

"But why, Mimi? Does she even know what you've been living like for the last four years? Cause if I were her, I'd have come and gotten you ages ago."

"No, Collins, see…okay, the truth is, I've been writing letters to my mom every six months ever since I moved here. You know, just let her know everything was okay. And, well…I might have lied a little in the letters." Angel raised an eyebrow.

"A little being what?"

"Fine, a lot. But not about most stuff. I told her I was a dancer and all that, and that I lived in a loft, but…" Mimi trailed off, looking anywhere but Angel. Roger and Collins were sharing looks now that said 'here-comes-another-episode-in-the-life-of-Mimi'. And considering Mimi's life so far, this looked like it would be, shall we say, a little wilder than a walk in the park.

"Mimi, what the hell have you been telling your mother that's so bad?" Angel asked. Mimi took a breath and, bracing herself for the certain reaction, mumbled something.

"What? Speak up, girl."

"Tht yr mybrigfd."

"Huh?"

"That you're my boyfriend, ok?" Mimi said, burying her face in her hands.

Silence for about three seconds.

"WHAT THE HELL, MIMI!" Angel looked like she was seriously wanted to drop-kick Mimi out the window. Mimi cowered under the raging glare. Collins and Roger, meanwhile, were looking from Mimi to Angel to each other and back to Mimi with stunned faces. Understandably.

"I'm sorry, ok? But it was all I could think of when she wrote to me the first time, and I couldn't tell her something else after that…" Mimi shrank away from Angel, half-afraid for her life. Angel's glare could have made a bull rhino, a game hunter, and politician fall to their knees and beg for mercy.

"Mimi Marquez, you better tell me why you told your mother that. Start talking. Now."

"Ok, ok, ok." And Mimi started talking. Then .