From New Years until Spring, Collins tried his best to keep his Angel busy. Preoccupied with not dying. New Years Day, Collins looked at her and knew things were coming to an end. And, oh, he tried to deny it. Tried to convince himself it wasn't happening. But it was.
He just didn't know how long the end would wait. And, if Collins was being honest with himself, he didn't want to know. Angel refused medical attention, no matter how high her fever ran or how many hours she spent in front of the toilet, hacking up everything in her stomach. And though he wanted her to be helped in any possible way, Collins counted her reluctance to see a doctor comforting. Doctors would only give Angel bills and an expiration date. Two things that Collins never wanted Angel to have to suffer through.
So, the man went to every length to keep Angel happy and fulfilled. They dined at the five-star restaurants around town, danced on the rooftops of the finest New York hotels, and shared the loveliest beds the city had to offer. Collins didn't care if the thieving and the conning to get those things landed him a lifetime sentence in Sing-Sing. If Angel had to endure the world, Collins would make it the best world possible.
But one day, he found himself helpless. During their daily walk through The Park, Angel couldn't keep herself up anymore. She collapsed in Collins' arms.
Weeks later, the genius found himself at a lass as he stumbled into room 208. Days, the doctor said. The Angel finally got her expiration date. Days. Collins pulled a chair up at his love's bedside. Angel lolled over to look at him, a sleepy, weak smile tugging on her lips.
"Have they told you when I can put my face back on?" she asked, referring to her normal drag make-up. She felt naked without it.
Collins shook his head, faking a smile as best he could. Angel sighed and looked over Collins' shoulder and out of the hospital room window.
"Well, how many days until Halloween, Thomas? Because you know, I can feel it. I'll be out of here by Halloween."
A pounding began in Collins' heart as he looked down at his watch. The 28th, it said.
"Three days, Angel," he said, struggling against his voice cracking.
Angel smiled and rolled on her back.
"Good, only three more days of these pajamas. Thomas, on Halloween, I want to wear my good dress. The pink one that Mimi and I made. Do you understand, Thomas?" Angel looked at Collins for a long moment, and their souls spoke to one another, revealing what neither could say out loud. Angel would be dead by Halloween.
"I've got you, Angel. I won't forget."
Holding out her hand, the young drag queen looked at her lover.
"Well, what did that old Quack want?" She asked, referring to the doctor.
Collins looked at his shoes and lied to Angel for the first time in their relationship. But there was something he had to ask, and he couldn't own up to it.
"He wanted to know why you won't let our friends come."
Eyes shutting, Angel grimaced.
"I told him you didn't want them here."
It was true. Every time one of their friends stopped by, Angel asked Collins to stop them before they reached the door. After a while, most of them stopped coming all together. A beat passed between the two.
"Why is that, Angel?" Collins asked.
The grimaced passed from Angel's face, only to be replaced with that glittering smile that Collins never got enough of.
"Well, honey, I don't let the important people see me when I don't look fabulous."
She chuckled, a fit that nearly charged a coughing spell. Collins helped her gulp a swig of water to clear the tickle in the back of Angel's throat. When finally she settled down, she looked a whole new shade of pale, and seemed to almost match her sheets' color as she sunk back into them.
"Really?" Collins began, "What about me? I'm not important?" he teased, nervously.
White arms extended themselves out to the man. Collins took Angel's hands in his own before the pair locked eyes.
"Darling, I may look fabulous when I'm around them. But when I'm with you, I feel fabulous."
The sun peeked through the blinds of Angel's window, lighting the color in her face. For a moment, she looked like herself again.
"I love you, Collins," she murmured, her eyes sliding closed.
For a moment, Collins forgot the expiration date. For a moment, Collins forgot the seemingly unpayable hospital bills growing with each passing moment. Because for a moment, her love and hand in his was all Collins needed.
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